Arata gazed at her son steadily. "That's not all," she concluded.
She had always known when he was trying to deceive her. Broken pots blamed on the wind, the kitchen mortar or the loom weights he'd borrowed for a machine and then claimed never to have touched- none of it had ever fooled her. He sighed and lifted his hands in a gesture of surrender. "He wants to keep me in Syracuse. The other night, Mama, I asked him exactly the question you just asked me, and he admitted that he has been deliberately inflating my reputation in order to make it difficult for me to leave. He thinks that before long Ptolemy will offer me wealth, honor, and a position at the Museum."
There was a long silence. Arata's face flushed slowly. "You're that good?" she asked at last, breathless from sheer pride. So good that kings vied for his services?
"Yes," agreed Archimedes. "At least, Hieron thinks so. It's not something I can judge. Compound pulleys still look obvious to me. I'm sure Ktesibios at least would have thought of them."
Philyra's face, too, was crimson, but in her case not with pride. "You wouldn't go back to Alexandria!" she exclaimed.
"I don't know," said Archimedes honestly. "I'm not going anywhere until the war's over, so why worry about it now?"
The attempt at evasion was doomed; Philyra began worrying about it at once. She did not want to go to Alexandria; what was more, she believed that if he was really as good as the king thought, he shouldn't go either. She said it would be treachery to Syracuse, and for Archimedes to tell her that this was exactly what Hieron had intended her to say made not the slightest difference. She loved her city and was furious that he could contemplate deserting it.
Arata was more restrained, willing to postpone an argument that might never be relevant- and yet, she too made it plain that she did not want to leave Syracuse. Archimedes' tentative suggestion, however, that if it ever came to such a point, Philyra could marry a Syracusan and Arata live with her, while he himself went to Egypt, did not appease anyone. Arata, like her daughter, thought it would be wrong for her son to leave the city, though she was too much of a peacemaker to say so before the issue had come to the crisis.
The quarrel was eventually suppressed by Arata's diplomatic suggestion that they eat some supper, but it flared up again after the meal. In token of peace they tried to play some music together, but as Philyra tuned her lute she remarked to her brother, "The king's sister loves the way you play the flute," then stared to see him beam delightedly.
"Oh, Medion!" Philyra burst out, as something else became clear to her. "You're not going to tell me she's interested in engineering, too?"
"No," said Archimedes evasively. "In auloi. She's very good, isn't she?"
"When did you ever hear her play?"
"At the king's house. She was in the garden, and…"
Philyra jumped to her feet, holding the lute as though she meant to hit him with it. "You never said anything about that, either! You go and do things that change everything for all of us, and you don't seem to think we have any right even to know about it!"
"I haven't done anything!" Archimedes protested feebly. "I've only spoken to Delia a few times!"
"Delia! O Zeus! Why did she keep asking about you?"
Arata looked at Archimedes in startled concern. "Medion!" she exclaimed. "You don't mean that the king's sister…"
Archimedes fled upstairs and buried himself in calculations on the abacus.
He was relieved when Dionysios invited him out to supper the following evening: it was an escape from the questions at home. But it turned out that Dionysios, too, wanted to talk about Alexandria- and about Philyra.
"I'm sorry to bring this up at a time like this," the captain said apologetically, when they were reclining at the table in the Arethusa. "I know your house is still in mourning, and there's the war as well. But I heard that you were thinking of marrying your charming sister to an Alexandrian, and I thought I'd better put in my own offer before it's too late."
Archimedes choked on his mouthful of tunny-fish and had to be pounded on the back and fetched a cup of water. By the time he'd recovered his breath, the captain was telling him seriously that it was his duty to remain in Syracuse. "I would not presume to dictate to you who your sister should marry, of course," Dionysios went on. "But as a loyal citizen, I must urge you not to leave our lovely city. The king-"
"Who told you I was thinking of marrying my sister to an Alexandrian?" interrupted Archimedes.
Dionysios was taken aback. "I believe your slave said as much to one of my men," he admitted. "Isn't it true?"
"There was never any Alexandrian," said Archimedes doubtfully. "My friend Conon and I used to talk about becoming brothers-in-law. But he's a Samian. And we never… that is, I never said anything about it at home. Oh, by the gods, don't spread it around! I'm already in trouble with my sister because of some other things I didn't tell her about, and if she thinks I was trying to marry her to a foreigner without consulting her, she'll brain me with a kithara. Are you really saying you want to marry her?"
It seemed that Dionysios really was. He began listing his qualifications: his rank, his prospects, his property. He apologized for his lack of fine breeding: he had been born poor and worked his way up through the ranks, and he had not thought of marrying until his most recent promotion gave him the standing to make a good match. But he had acquired some land to the south and a third share in a merchant ship, and he had every hope that after the war he would do very well. He was well thought of by the king and respected in the army. He had noticed Philyra at Archimedes' house and again at the demonstration, and he thought her quite charming. He gathered, too, that she was musicaclass="underline" he had always loved music, and wanted to marry a girl who could share his enthusiasm. Naturally, if he was so fortunate as to acquire her, he would treat her with all the respect that was due to the sister of a man like Archimedes.
Archimedes listened in astonishment. It seemed incredible that Philyra should marry, and that he should be the one who decided whom. He supposed that she was of marriageable age, and that he was the head of the household- but still it seemed incredible. Daydreams with his friend Conon had not prepared him for this. And Dionysios! He quite liked the man- good company, intelligent, capable; a fine voice; he was sure that what the fellow was saying about his prospects was quite true. But did he want such a man for a brother? And suppose he got it wrong, and Dionysios made Philyra miserable? How could he possibly make such a decision?
"I can't give you an answer right now," he said, when the captain had ground to a halt and sat blinking at him anxiously. "As you said, the house is in mourning. It would be quite wrong for my sister marry with her hair still short from the funeral."
"Of course," said Dionysios hastily. "But- afterward?"
"I need to think about it." He sat still for a moment, trying to imagine how his mother and sister would react to this news. Arata would consider the captain of the Ortygia garrison a catch, though she'd want to meet him before making up her mind whether to say yes. Philyra would certainly be excited. Not at all eager to leave home, he thought, but thrilled that such a man had asked for her- and assessing. She would want to know more about Dionysios. He met the captain's anxious gaze and declared suddenly, "I don't know what you think about women, but I've always felt they're just as capable as men, at least in everyday matters. My sister's a very sensible girl. She and my mother are really much better at arranging practical matters than I am, so I'm going to consult them before I answer anything. I don't know what you think of that." He held Dionysios' eyes. Many men would find it deplorable that he allowed his women to dictate his decisions. He was aware that his admission had just confronted Dionysios with a test, and wondered what the other man would have to say to pass.