The Marathon Conspiracy Read Online Free PDF Page B

the rest of his life by getting himself elected to strategos and re-elected year after year, which given his abilities he surely could.
    “That’s brilliant. It’s almost like being a tyrant, without being a tyrant,” I mused.
    “It’s no such thing!” Pericles shouted in horror. “And don’t you dare say those words outside this room. I tell you this only so you will understand the importance of your actions. With all this talk of Hippias and Marathon going around, people’s minds are fixated on the older men, the heroes who fought at Marathon. It means the old men are more likely to be elected. Again. That’s wrong, Nicolaos. Athens needs younger men to guide her. Men of the next generation.”
    By which he meant himself. Apparently, being the son of one of our greatest war heroes wasn’t enough. Xanthippus, the father of Pericles, had died three months before. I’d attended his funeral, and not out of politeness. I’d come to like Xanthippus, and was sad to see him go. He was a crusty old war hero, demanding, difficult to get on with, but honorable as few men are. I was glad he’d lived to see his son become leader of Athens.
    “I need all this talk shut down. As soon as possible. So voters will stop thinking about the past and start thinking about the future.”
    “There’s another problem, Pericles,” I said. I told him the evidence of Doris the priestess. “So you see, your suspicions about the girls are almost certainly correct. Whoever killed Hippias probably attacked the children.”
    “But Nicolaos, a gap of thirty years? No killer hangs around the scene that long.”
    “Then they must be associated, somehow. Nothing else makes sense. Either way, as long as there’s a chance she’s still alive, finding the girl must be the priority.”
    “She’s only a girl. Affairs of state come first.”
    I barely prevented myself from shouting, only by grinding my teeth and reminding myself that Pericles’s attitude was normal. I’d known he’d take this view and come prepared. I said, “Then think of it this way, Pericles. The death of Hippias is so old, it’s almost impossible to trace. I could beat my head against that case for months and get nowhere. The recent action against the children must be an easier path, and will surely lead to the same person.”
    Pericles paced for a moment, as he liked to do in private, while he thought about it. “Very well, I can see the logic of that. Yes, the girls are the quickest route to the mystery of Hippias, which has implications for the coming elections. I see your plan. I suppose you intend to go to Brauron?”
    “Yes. But I’ll need some fast transport. I must be back and forth to Athens. I have an appointment with fate.”
    “Oh?”
    “I’m getting married,” I said proudly.
    Pericles pursed his lips in distaste. “That Diotima woman, no doubt.”
    “Of course.”
    “You’re young to be marrying,” he said.
    I shrugged. It was true, but I was happy. Most men married at thirty. I would be wed at twenty-one.
    “A man of your station, with your prospects, you could do better.”
    I knew Pericles had never liked Diotima, but his words made me angry. So much so that I raised the thorny issue between us. “There’s another matter we must discuss, Pericles, before I continue. My pay.”
    “You’ll be paid,” he promised.
    “I meant payment for the
first
commission you ever gave me.” If Pericles had any skill greater than his rhetoric, it was his ability to avoid spending money. “You offered me a small, steady incomeif I succeeded. Well, I succeeded, but you never paid me. This can’t go on, Pericles. Soon I’ll be a man with responsibilities. If I’m to take on this new commission, I must have payment for the first.”
    “Oh.” Pericles sat down and drummed his fingers on the desk. They made a loud sound in the silence. I waited, knowing he couldn’t rightly deny the debt, especially not when he needed me now. Eventually he said,