The New Achilles by Christian Cameron

Author:Christian Cameron
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9781409176589
Publisher: Orion
Published: 2019-04-17T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FIVE

Lentas, Crete

220 BCE

He landed on the beach at Lentas without any ceremony, having given them no warning. Instead, he paid off the boat that had run him down the Dodecanese and walked up the beach like any pilgrim, sick or well, with his bag over his shoulder, and Leon at his side. They used the baths to cleanse the salt and sweat of the voyage away, and both of them watched the slaves, who were stony-faced, and the attendants, who were timid.

The massage was ineffectual; oddly tentative, as if the man rubbing them down was afraid of breaking them.

Alexanor had intended to announce himself as soon as he was clean, but after a whispered conversation, he presented himself to the priests, showed the wound in his side, and asked for the priests’ intercession with the gods.

Alexanor’s first impression wasn’t helped by the long line he had to endure waiting for the single priest on duty.

It was also, perhaps, unfair that Alexanor immediately judged the duty priest for being fat. His weight made Alexanor question the man’s devotion, as priests of the god were supposed to pay attention to their own bodies; but equally, it was possible that he had a disorder and he struggled with it. Alexanor was aware that his anger from Rhodes was making him petty.

‘And what have you brought as an offering to the god?’ the man asked.

Like the man’s obesity, it was possible that the man merely had a poor bedside manner. Rich pilgrims were requested to make donations at every temple of Asklepios. But the request for a donation should never have preceded the man’s diagnosis of a new patient.

‘My wound,’ Alexanor snapped.

The fat priest smiled. ‘Bless you, lad, but I don’t need your attitude. Why don’t you go out and wait a while and start through the line again. Perhaps you’ll find some manners.’

The priest snapped his fingers and a pair of large slaves appeared with staves.

Alexanor allowed himself to be escorted out.

He found Leon, not in the portico of the elegant baths, as he’d suggested, but on the beach.

‘Slaves are only welcome when their masters are paying customers,’ he said bitterly.

‘You are no slave,’ Alexanor said.

‘I wasn’t exactly going to announce myself as a priest, was I?’ Leon shrugged. ‘I said I was your slave. Bastard hit me with a stick.’

‘Something’s wrong,’ Alexanor said. ‘I shouldn’t have gone home,’ he added.

Leon was nursing a bruise.

‘Want to talk about it?’ he asked.

Alexanor was looking at the magnificent stone formation, the ‘Lion’, which towered over the sanctuary. The beach was very small – only big enough for three or four ships – but the water was clear and remarkably blue.

‘I think that I just discovered that my father betrayed me,’ he said, and his voice choked. ‘Somehow, that’s worse than imagining that he thought me a coward.’

Leon clasped his hand for a moment.

‘Mine sold me as a slave,’ he said.

Alexanor laughed bitterly. ‘That puts it in perspective, doesn’t it?’

‘No. Betrayal is betrayal.’

Alexanor was looking up at the sanctuary, and the magnificent round temple.

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