The Godless Man (Telamon Triology, Book 2) by Paul Doherty

Author:Paul Doherty
Language: eng
Format: azw3
ISBN: 9780755395750
Publisher: Headline
Published: 2013-06-06T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 7

“In Greece alas! How ill things ordered are.”

A quotation from Euripides, Andromache,

cited by Plutarch: Lives: “Alexander”

“I am sorry to rouse you from your slumber.”

Telamon sat in the main room of the House of Medusa. Once upon a time it might have been opulent, even elegant, with its wooden columns and high ceiling, but now the plaster and woodwork were cracked, cobwebs hung from corners, dust soiled every ledge. The air was musty and stale. Built in the Egyptian fashion, with a dais at one end and a central fire on a raised hearth, it was now a soulless, tawdry room. The two officers sitting opposite him reflected their surroundings. Both wore soiled tunics, their faces unshaven. The taller of the two, Agathon, with narrow eyes and pitted cheeks, simply smirked, dismissing Telamon’s sarcasm with a flick of his fingers.

“The army’s orders have been posted.” Agathon scratched his thin reddish hair. “We fought at the Granicus, we marched on Ephesus. We now have a month’s leave to enjoy the fruits of our victory. Isn’t that correct, Sallus?”

His companion was squat with a broad, ruddy face under a shock of black hair which looked as if it hadn’t been washed since he had left Macedon.

“That’s right.” Sallus bit deeply into an apple and chewed noisily, leering at Cassandra. She glared back. Sallus laughed, opened his mouth in a fine display of half-chewed apple and bit again.

“You certainly don’t keep this place tidy.”

“We’re soldiers, members of the Raven Squadron. It’s not our job to clean someone else’s house.”

“Did Leonidas believe the same?” Telamon asked.

“No, poor drunken sod. He was in his cups most of the time. Couldn’t walk a straight line, let alone get off a horse.”

“He was a fine cavalryman,” Telamon declared. “I knew him when I was a boy.”

The apple chewer paused, a calculating look in his eyes. “Who did you say you were?”

“Telamon, personal physician to Alexander, a member of the royal circle. I am here to investigate Leonidas’s death.”

Sallus sneered. Agathon got to his feet, stretched, plucked an apple from the bowl and came back. He rubbed it on his tunic, winked at Cassandra and bit deeply.

“So why are you here?” Agathon asked, his harsh accent blunted by apple pieces. “To investigate Leonidas’s death? So what? He was drunk, staggered out of his bed, went downstairs to the garden and drowned in a dirty pool.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. Nor does Sallus. Perhaps he was sleepwalking. Perhaps he had a nightmare. Maybe he thought he could find a wineskin.”

“He was your commanding officer?”

“Aye, and a good one. When the army came into Ephesus he seized this house and got the quarter-master’s approval to stay here. We’ve now been released from duties and haven’t to report back till the full moon. We eat, we drink, we wander the city.”

“Where are your horses?”

“Oh, don’t be stupid,” Agathon sneered. “You know the orders. Cavalry mounts are with the army, they were too precious to waste here. Anyhow, we haven’t got enough fodder for a long stay.

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