‘I haven’t heard of the Lenaia,’ Aurelia said.
‘It’s held at the temple of Dionysos, and is celebrated by all married women. The whores-’ Kleitos looked embarrassed. ‘My apologies. I should have said hetairai. Courtesans. They are involved too.’
‘What do the women get up to?’ There was a mischievous glint to Aurelia’s expression and Hanno hid his amusement. She did know something about the Lenaia.
Kleitos coughed. ‘The proceedings start with a procession led by various priests, which is followed by the sacrifice of a goat. Some say that the women tear it to pieces, although I’ve never believed that myself. Maybe in the past, but not now.’
‘And after that?’
‘I couldn’t really say.’
Hanno grinned. He’d never seen Kleitos so discomfited.
Aurelia giggled. ‘Are you embarrassed, Kleitos?’
‘A little.’ He threw a glance at Hanno. ‘Damn, but you picked a spirited one, didn’t you?’
‘I wouldn’t have her any other way,’ replied Hanno, smiling. Nonetheless, he was relieved when Aurelia gave up on her interrogation. According to his soldiers, who were congregating in inns near the temple complex, there was far more to the Lenaia. After the women had finished drinking and celebrating, men would be allowed into the sanctuary, whereupon priests and priestesses supervised an all-night orgy. It was one thing to consider that he, Hanno, might partake (if Aurelia hadn’t been part of his life), but the notion that she might also set a jealous fire in his blood.
The rain and wind that they encountered on their journey put paid to any further conversation about the Lenaia, or anything else. If it continued, Hanno reflected, it would be further protection from any ill fortune befalling them on the way home. His lanolin-soaked cloak kept out the worst of the water, but he was still glad to reach the inn. ‘This lamb had better be worth it,’ he grumbled.
‘I’m paying, so what do you care?’ retorted Kleitos.
A quartet of muscled, gormless-looking men flanked the entrance. The lead one did his impression of a smile, which would have terrified most children, but told the three that they were being allowed in.
Kleitos held open the door, releasing a cacophony of noise and a blast of warm, fuggy air. ‘Get your arse inside and stop complaining. Find us a table.’
As Hanno entered, he slipped his free hand under his cloak to the hilt of his dagger. Old habits die hard, he thought, scanning the packed room. There were casual glances from the nearest customers, but no one else seemed interested, which was reassuring. The patrons were a mixture of well-to-do types, from local merchants to officers from the garrison, Hippocrates’ forces and Himilco’s army. There were some women present, although they looked to be whores. When Hanno spotted two men leaving a small table by the left wall, not too near the bar, he made a beeline for it. Kleitos and Aurelia arrived a moment later. ‘Sit here,’ he said to her, indicating the single stool. ‘Kleitos and I will take the bench against the wall.’
‘I won’t be able to see what’s going on,’ she complained.
‘Maybe so, but we will. And fewer people will notice you.’ Hanno had no need to explain further. Despite the peaceful atmosphere, the mix of customers was a recipe for potential violence.
‘Relax,’ said Kleitos, slapping his knee. ‘Every man here is likely to have his mind set on one thing only. The Lenaia.’
Hanno could see that Aurelia was on the point of quizzing Kleitos again. ‘Let’s get some wine in,’ he said loudly. Alert to danger, he scrutinised the room again.
Most customers appeared to be listening to a group of musicians with lyres and flutes, who had arrived accompanied by a singer with a reasonable voice. Others were eyeing a pair of heavily made-up whores who were working the crowd, batting away men’s roaming hands and murmuring promises in their ears. Relaxing a little, Hanno caught the eye of a barmaid.
The wine that she brought soon after was excellent. Hanno began to enjoy himself. The company was convivial, the nearby fire’s heat relaxing. Even Aurelia consumed more than normal. Kleitos drank as if he were dying of thirst, downing cup after cup of wine. Two more jugs of wine were ordered, and an hour or more had passed before they got around to ordering some of the famed roast lamb. A massive plate of it finally arrived, swimming in juices, and bordered by hunks of fresh, flat bread. They devoured it in complete silence, like small children who’ve unexpectedly been given a whole pastry.
‘Gods, but that was tasty. This place’s reputation is well deserved,’ said Hanno. ‘Well done, Kleitos.’
‘It was good, eh?’ Wiping his lips, Kleitos burped. His eyes shot to Aurelia’s. ‘My pardon.’
‘Stop worrying about me,’ she ordered. ‘I grew up listening to my brother fart and belch at every opportunity.’
Kleitos grinned. ‘If you hadn’t spoken for Aurelia, my friend-’
‘I’m a lucky man,’ said Hanno, moving to kneel beside Aurelia.
‘You’re not the only one who’s lucky,’ she replied, leaning her head on his shoulder.
Kleitos’ eyes grew sad.
‘You will find another woman,’ said Aurelia gently. ‘It’s obvious from a mile away that you’re a decent, good man.’
‘Maybe, one day.’ Kleitos poured himself more wine. He raised the overflowing cup. ‘But for now, my lover is this.’
An awkward silence followed; Hanno and Aurelia waited to see if Kleitos wanted to talk further, but he didn’t.
‘If the truth be told, I’m ready for bed.’ Hanno stifled a yawn and glanced at Aurelia, who nodded. ‘I’m no longer in your league when it comes to drinking, Kleitos.’
‘Who said you ever were?’ retorted Kleitos, but with an affectionate grin.
‘That sounds like a challenge, yet it’s one I’ll have to answer another time.’
‘If you’re sure?’
‘I am.’
‘I’ll walk back with you.’
‘Don’t you want to stay on for a while?’
‘Aye. I’ll return when I’ve seen you to your door.’
‘The Lenaia is calling him!’ said Aurelia with a wink.
‘Maybe it is,’ Kleitos admitted, the wine having banished his earlier embarrassment. ‘These type of events don’t come around too often, especially during a war. A single man must make the most of his opportunities, eh?’
Aurelia got to her feet. ‘Come on. We mustn’t delay Kleitos.’
Chuckling, Hanno led the way towards the door. The others followed, but Hanno didn’t notice that after a few steps, Kleitos had stopped to talk with an officer he knew. Aurelia’s shocked gasp also took him by surprise. ‘Don’t touch me!’ she cried in Greek.
‘I’ll do as I damn well please,’ said a man’s voice. ‘You’re good-looking for a whore, I have to say. Why don’t you and I go somewhere more private?’
Hanno spun, taking in Aurelia’s outraged face and, over her shoulder, a pox-scarred local soldier in a wine-spattered tunic whose hand still rested somewhere on her. In two steps, he had moved around Aurelia to stand chest to chest with her assailant, who looked none too happy.
‘What’s your problem?’ the soldier snarled.
‘She’s no whore, and she’s with me,’ growled Hanno. ‘Piss off.’
Pox Face’s lip curled. ‘I think she’d prefer my company.’
‘Come away, Hanno. Leave it.’
He caught the warning tone in Aurelia’s voice; his eyes flickered to a nearby table. Pox Face had three friends, all of whom were watching proceedings with an intense, predatory interest. Where the fuck is Kleitos? Finally, he saw him, deep in conversation about fifteen paces away. Hanno cursed inside. If it came to a fight, that distance was as far as the moon. He decided that diplomacy was a better route to take. ‘She’s my wife, friend.’
‘You’re full of shit. No one takes their wife into a place like this during the Lenaia.’ He leered. ‘Unless you’re planning to take her to the orgy afterwards!’
‘Why don’t we get started now?’ asked one of his friends, standing up. Pox Face and the others laughed.