Empire of Ashes: A Novel of Alexander the Great Read Online Free PDF Page A

him.
    “Big trial today. It’s listed right in the middle of the dais. And it’s not just some crappy inheritance case…”
    Deuteros downed the wine, looked around nervously. Swallow had been going to the courts with him for years, shared the cup with him countless times, and yet never known him to show the slightest effect of drink. He was always sober, always with that subtly hunted look. The reason may have had to do with marrying a girl far too personable and pretty. While this seemed enviable to Swallow (and, indeed, would to most men), Deuteros had contrived to be out of the house virtually all the time since his marriage. Even then, he still seemed to be keeping a permanent watch on the streets, as if expecting to see his wife humiliate him by going out in public.
    Swallow poured out another two fingers. “Tell me why I’m buying you drinks, Deuteros, when you live in a nice house up on the hill?”
    “The defendant is Machon.”
    “Alexander’s boy?”
    “The same. And the prosecutor is Aeschines.”
    “What, he’s back?”
    “Apparently. The charges are ‘betrayal of the public trust’ and ‘impiety’—or something.”
    “Sounds like Aeschines. But he must be very long in the tooth by now. And to come back from such a long way…”
    As his friend was standing and thinking and not drinking, Deuteros tipped more wine from Swallow’s cup into his own.
    “A trial like that has big stakes. What, to try somebody from Alexander’s staff, with his regent’s army breathing down our necks? It’s stupid if you ask me, dear Deuteros. Antipater could bring his rabble right down here. What can the old man have in his mind?”
    The other issued a resonant snort through his nose as he drank.
    “Or maybe that’s the whole point,” Swallow went on. “If Machon ran afoul of the Boy, maybe Aeschines thinks his indictment will keep us in Antipater’s good graces. It seems like a big risk to me, anyway. Nothing can stop those Macedonian dogs! Just to be safe, we should probably vote ‘guilty’ if we get on the jury, right?”
    Deuteros looked around furtively. “You asking me?”
    “Who else is standing here?”
    “Sure, guilty—I guess.”
    “There he stands, an adept of Themis herself!” Swallow laughed, clapping his friend on the shoulder. “Athenian justice is safe with men like you, Deuteros!”
    They made their way across to the courthouse. There already seemed to be a throng of men milling outside, though only a few could have been eligible for service. The spectators’ box would be filled today.
    “Good luck!” said Swallow loudly, and then leaning in to Deuteros’s ear, whispered, “Remember the verdict.”
    They parted, each proceeding to the entryway designated for his tribe: Swallow to ‘Kekrops,’ Deuteros to ‘Erechtheus.’ Just inside, the former dropped his juryman’s tag in the box. The archon’s assistant immediately fished the tag out, scrutinizing the name.
    “You again! The state can’t afford your civic-mindedness—unless we start charging you the cost of fumigating the place!”
    “I resent that,” Swallow replied, adjusting his blanket in a manner reminiscent of one of Demosthenes’ dramatic pauses. This got a big laugh from the other jury candidates.
    “Get out of my sight!” the secretary cried, dropping the tag back in the box.
    Before the allotment began, Swallow encountered someone he’d find less welcome on the jury than little Deuteros. Eteocles of Kikynna saw him at the same moment, registering his recognition with a scowl. At that, of course, Swallow had to go over to welcome him.
    “My dear Eteocles! It’s no surprise to see you here, for this event. And not alone, it seems!”
    Eteocles was standing with two other well-kitted nobles, all sweetly redolent of leather and horseflesh. Neither of them would even look at Swallow. With proper reverse snobbery, Swallow despised anyone who rode in on a horse—the conveyance of the old guard,