Arms of Nemesis by Steven Saylor

Author:Steven Saylor [Saylor, Steven]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Historical Novel
ISBN: 9781845292461
Publisher: Constable and Robinson
Published: 2008-05-12T07:00:00+00:00

Part Three

Death in a Cup

XIV

‘Will this day never end?’ I peered at the ceiling above my bed and rubbed my face with both hands. ‘My backside will ache tomorrow from all this riding. Up hill and down, through the woods and across the wastes.’ I babbled, the way that weary men do when given a chance to rest in the course of a long day and they find themselves too overwrought to relax. It might have helped if I closed my eyes, but whenever I did I saw the horribly decayed face of Zeno staring at me from a gaping mouth of flame.

‘Eco, could you pour me a cup of water from that ewer on the windowsill? Water!’ I slapped my forehead. ‘We still have to find someone who can dive down into the shallows around the boathouse to see what was dropped from the pier last night.’ I sat up to accept the cup from Eco, and peered past his shoulder through the window. The sun was still up, but not for long. By the time I found Meto, assuming he was fit for the task, and trundled down to the water’s edge, the shadows would be growing longer and the evening chill would have begun to settle. We needed bright sunlight piercing the water if we were to find something amid the rocks on the bottom. The task would have to wait.

I groaned and rubbed my eyes – then quickly snatched my hands away when the face of Zeno loomed up before me.

‘Not enough time, Eco, not enough time. What’s the point of all this scurrying about when we can never hope to get to the bottom of things before Crassus has his way? If only Olympias hadn’t cast the head into the lake and then raced back to the villa alone, we would at least have had something to show Crassus – proof that we had found one of the slaves. But what would that have served? Crassus would see it as just another proof of Zeno’s guilt – what better way for the gods to show their fury at a murderous slave than for Pluto himself to swallow the miscreant feet first?

‘For all our work, all we have are questions, Eco. Who attacked me on the pier last night? What was Olympias up to today, and why was Dionysius following her? And what part does Iaia play in all this? She seems to have some agenda of her own, but towards what end, and why does she play her part behind a veil of secrecy and magic?’

I stretched my arms and legs and suddenly felt as heavy as lead. Eco dropped onto his bed, his face turned toward the wall. ‘We shouldn’t lie here any longer,’ I murmured. ‘We have so little time. I still haven’t spoken to Sergius Orata, the businessman. Or Dionysius, for that matter. If I could catch the philosopher off his guard . . .’

I closed my eyes – for just an instant, I thought.

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