It wasn’t what I was thinking at all. “How did you find out?”
“My daughter is a featherhead-I may be her father, but I’m not deluded-she left enough hints that anyone would have known. I see that I must tell you the whole story, but you must never reveal what I’m about to say.”
“I’m sorry, Exelon, I can’t promise you that. Not if it proves Timodemus is innocent.”
“You have no choice,” he said. “I remind you, young man, that you swore an Olympic Oath.”
“I could hardly forget it. I must discover this killer no matter what the consequences.”
“You’re wrong,” said the Chief Judge of the Games. “Nothing in your oath requires you to catch the killer. But you are required to obey the orders of the Judges of the Games.”
It took a moment for it to sink in. Then I almost shouted, “You deliberately wrote the oath so that I must obey you!”
“No,” he said. “You spoke the standard oath. But it so happens in your case the words take a different meaning from any other event. I therefore order you, Nicolaos of Athens, not to reveal my daughter’s activities.”
I was honor bound by oath to Zeus to obey.
Angry, I said, “You realize, don’t you, Exelon, that this makes you a suspect.”
“It does not.”
“A man whose daughter was despoiled by the victim and the accused? You must hate them both.”
“On the contrary. I called Arakos and Timodemus to my house in Elis on the day before the procession.”
I imagined the scene, the two bitter rivals, standing side by side, facing the man who would soon decide their fate in the Games, the event for which they’d trained since they were boys, the event they’d been born to contest, and both knowing they’d been screwing this man’s daughter.
“I suppose you tore strips off them?” I said
“I was the voice of reason, after I finished shouting at them. I told them that I knew what had been going on. They both turned a distinct green color.”
“I can imagine. They both probably expected to be disqualified. It would have ruined their lives.”
“And the life of my daughter, too. She could never survive the scandal and find a husband. But equally I did not dare let them go unpunished. One or the other of these two over-endowed idiots was certain to win the pankration, and when he did, he would be untouchable. The winner could boast that he’d despoiled the daughter of the Chief Judge and be immune from my revenge. Happily, I had the perfect punishment.”
“I can’t imagine what it was.”
“I congratulated them and said that one of them was about to become my son-in-law. I told Arakos and Timodemus that whichever of them won the Olympic crown would also win my daughter in marriage.”
He paused.
“So you see, one of them would lose the Olympics, and the other would be stuck with my daughter. I’m not sure which is the worse fate, but either way, why should I wish to kill my future son-in-law? Especially when he’s about to become an Olympic champion.”
“When Dromeus advised you to have regular sex, he probably didn’t mean with the Priestess of the Games.”
Timo shrugged. “Can I help it if I’m irresistible to women?”
I’d marched to the makeshift prison via the fire pits, where I’d snaffled a rib of succulent meat that dripped with fat, maybe the best I’d ever tasted. Timo and I sat on the dirty floor and ate it. I needed to confirm Exelon’s statement with the only man left alive who would know. Also, I had a few bones to pick with my supposed friend, the one who’d sworn he’d told me the truth.
“Besides,” Timo went on, “Klymene is good in bed.” He paused. “She’s really good.”
“Oh?” I said, deeply interested. “What does she do?” Then it occurred to me Diotima might not approve that line of questioning, so before he could answer, I said, “You’re going to be really dead if anyone finds out the Games are being blessed by a ritually impure priestess. Timo, why did you lie to me?”
“I didn’t want to get Klymene into trouble.”
“So instead you thought it might be a good idea to die?”
“When you put it like that … perhaps I wasn’t thinking straight.”
Or perhaps my friend was more in love than he knew.
“What’s this story about Exelon pulling you and Arakos up in front of him?”
Timo sighed. “It’s true. There was Arakos and me, side by side, in Exelon’s private office. I’ve never been scared of anything, but I was shaking in that room! I thought to myself, this is the Chief Judge. If he wanted, he could find some way to destroy my chances in the Sacred Games. Then, when Exelon announced the winner of the pankration would wed his daughter, I was almost relieved. It meant my chances in the Games were still good.”
“What about Arakos?”
“I hated him then, knowing he’d been with Klymene.”
“And he hated you.”
“He was insanely jealous.”
“I’ve heard about the accusations of witchcraft at Nemea, Timo.”
“Oh.” He was crestfallen. “It’s not true, Nico. I swear it isn’t.”
“Did you cheat at the Nemean Games?”
“No.”
“Did you kill Arakos?”
“No.”
“After the way you’ve lied to me, is there any reason why I should believe you now?”
Timodemus paused, then hung his head and said, “No.”
I reported back to Diotima what Exelon had told me. She was in her tent, reading.
She focused on the issue closest to her own heart. “You mean he allowed his daughter to have affairs?”
I nodded.
“Why couldn’t I get fathers like that?”
“It’s rather the reverse of our problem, isn’t it?” I paused. “Diotima, is being really good in bed a basis for a marriage?”
“Hmm? How would I know?”
“Thanks a lot!”
“Oh Nico, I didn’t mean it like that.” Diotima put down her scroll. “What I mean is, we have so much more in common than merely sex.”
“Merely sex?”
“We have our common work. We get on-mostly. We respect each other. You’re good to me, Nico. You listen to what I say.”
“That’s because you’re right more often than I am,” I admitted.
“You see? How many men would admit that? Why are you asking these questions?”
“You heard Klymene say Timo was the man to see for an orgasm. Later, Timo told me that Klymene is really good in bed.”
“Oho!”
“Yes. Of course, their fathers would have to agree.”
“Which as we know all too well isn’t certain.”
“Right. But I wouldn’t want Timo to make a mistake. I don’t know what sort of wife Klymene would make.”
Diotima considered. “She doesn’t seem marriage material at first glance, does she?”
“No, and to top it off, she’s not a … er …”
“Not a citizen of Athens?” my non-citizen metic wife finished in a frigid tone. “And is that a problem, husband?” She picked up one of the throwing knives beside her and balanced it on a finger.
“Not for me, and well you know it, wife. But for most men, yes, it is.”
“Well,” said Diotima, “it won’t do either of them the slightest good if Timodemus is executed.”
“But we’ve proven he didn’t do it. He was in bed with Klymene.”
“An alibi we can’t use.”
I nodded unhappily. “The only way to save Timo is to find the real killer.”
“Then let’s review the possibilities.”
“All right,” I said. “One-Eye and Festianos. They killed Arakos to give Timo an easy run in the Games. The hemlock is suspicious.”
“Maybe,” Diotima said. “But it leaves us with the problem of how they could poison Arakos with hemlock before they beat him.”
I nodded glumly.
“Dromeus has the same motive,” Diotima said. “I don’t trust Dromeus. He makes a living teaching young men how to beat up other young men.”