An Ancient Connection: Time travel to Ancient Greece

By J M Newsome

It's 417 BCE in ancient Athens, Greece. Themistokles is married and in love with his intriguing new wife. Spying to uncover treachery in the City, sculpting and farming, are all more important, more exciting now. His eerie mental Connection to his mysterious Nymph, has new meaning.

And it's 2017 in modern Lancaster UK. Suzanne (aka the Nym

• Language: English
• Publisher: Birkby Books
• Release date: Jul 4, 2023
• ISBN: 9781838413651

J M Newsome

Julia grew up in England and was an English as a Foreign Language (EFL) teacher and publisher in various countries for more than 30 years. Now she writes fiction and scripts for EFL learners and general readers. As a student, she drove from London to Athens, Greece, in a very small car. When she saw the dazzling blues of the Mediterranean for the first time and ate her first cheese pie, she knew she had to live there. This led eventually to her having two bicultural children there (now adults), and two homes, one in Cumbria and one near Corinth. Her other loves include exploring and researching country-sides and coasts, and spending time with cats. But her normally nomadic lifestyle means she can't look after a real cat (or two or three). So she has a stuffed toy leopard who reclines near her desk, and HE looks after HER, in his own unblinking, undemonstrative way.

Book preview

Also by J M Newsome

Fiction:

Maria’s Dilemma (Richmond Readers, level 1)

Saturday Storm (Richmond Readers, level 2)

Nelson’s Dream (CUP, Cambridge English Readers, level 6)

Winner of 2009 Language Learner Literature Award

Dragons’ Eggs (CUP, Cambridge English Readers, level 5)

Winner of 2011 Language Learner Literature Award

Better Late Than Never (CUP, Cambridge English Readers, level 5)

The Connection Trilogy (Birkby Books)

1. The Boy in Two Minds

2. The Girl in Two Worlds

3. An Ancient Connection

Translation:

Europa

(Ammos Editions, Athens)

(Modern Greek to English)

Vergina: Treasures, Myths and History of Ancient Macedonia

(Ammos Editions, Athens)

(Modern Greek to English)

AN

ANCIENT

CONNECTION

Time travel to Ancient Greece

by J M Newsome

The Connection Trilogy

The Boy in Two Minds

The Girl in Two Worlds

An Ancient Connection

Birkby Books

Imprint information

Copyright © J M Newsome 2023 An Ancient Connection

J M Newsome has asserted the moral right to be identified as the author of this work under the Copyright, Designs and Patent Act 1988

Published by Birkby Books

print: 2023 ISBN 978-1-8384136-4-4

e-book : 2023 ISBN 978-1-8384136-5-1

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The characters and incidents portrayed in it, while at times based on historical events and figures, are wholly the work of the author’s imagination.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, and in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency as appropriate.

Cover design: ©Kate Jensen: www.katej.uk

Original artwork: ©Fliss Watts: blog: flisswtts1.wordpress.com

Instagram: @flisswatts

Maps 1

City of Athens & The Port of Piraeus

Maps 2

Peloponnese and Central Greece & Mediterranean and Black Sea

Maps 3

Delphi

Characters

The spellings used here are almost all based on Modern, not Ancient, Greek pronunciation. The debate as to what the Ancients sounded like continues. So, rather than try to resolve a centuries-old academic controversy, I’ve used modern versions of the ancient names, except for the few most well-known.

People who really existed are marked with an asterisk (*).

Ancient Greek gods and mythical figures are in a separate list after the mortals. The name Themis can be either male or female, referring to someone called Themistokles (male), or to Themis, the goddess of natural law (female).

Athens and the Peloponnese, 418 BCE

Abydos, farmer near Argos, brother of Gelon

Adrasteia, Anthoussa’s personal slave

Agatha, apothecary, Popi’s sister

*Agis, King of Sparta

*Agorakritos, sculptor, onetime student/colleague of Phidias, Melissa’s father

*Alkibiades, Athenian celebrity, politician and sometime general

Amyntor, Commander of Athens City Watch 417 to 416 BCE

Androklos, Athenian healer, army friend of Themis

Anthoussa, Agorakritos’ wife, Melissa’s mother

*Antiphon, Chief Athenian Archon 418 to 417 BCE

Apollodorus, Commander of Athens City Watch 419 to 418 BCE

Arianos, former physical training tutor, then farm steward, deceased

Ariphron, Photios’ cousin, now living in Miletus

Armodius, apprentice sculptor in Delphi, son of Milos the carter

Asterodia, priestess of Athena and Demeter, mother of Xenovia, deceased Autumn Leaf, chestnut filly with one white front foot

Canthus, Chloe’s eldest son

Chloe, Themistokles’ younger sister

Damianos, superintendant of Naval Shipyards, Piraeus, deceased

Damon, Scythian archer

*Demosthenes, Athenian general

Diokles, sculptor from Miletus

Diodotos, Themistokles’ older brother, deceased

Eirini, Themistokles’ mother

Eteokles, son of Adrastos, member of Themistokles’ supper club

*Euphemus, Chief Athenian Archon 417 to 416 BCE

Evdaemon of Naukratis (see Phidias),

Frog, Themistokles’ personal slave and friend

Gelon, farmer near Argos, brother of Abydon

Glykon, member of Themistokles’ supper club

Gulkishar, former scribe to Phidias

Halius, healer at the Argive Heraion

Hermione, Agorakritos’ sister from Paros

Hierax, or Spider, street-living friend of Melissus

Hipparchos, Chloe’s husband

Hipponicus, security guard

Hlin, slave woman

Hyllos, an Athens Planning Department boss

*Hyperbolos, Athenian politician

Ilarion, member of Themistokles’ supper club

Iasos, ex-Olympics judge, Anthoussa’s father, living in Elis

Io, slave in Themistokles’ city household, see also Skionian

Isidorus, Photios’ older brother

Ismini, Eirini’s friend, wife of Phidias

Itheus, acolyte at the Kastalian spring, Delphi

Kalamaras, scribe at Apollo’s sanctuary, Epidaurus

*Kallikrates, Athenian sculptor and architect of parts of the Akropolis

*Kallimachos, Athenian sculptor

Kalliope, female slave in Themistokles’ country household

Kallistos of the Diomea, Themistokles’ father, deceased

Kapaneus, Athenian citizen

Kephalos, symposium guest

Leokratis, Zephyros’ and Eirini’s brother, Themis’ uncle in Massalia, deceased

Leontis, Photios’ father, Athenian trierarch

Lidha, sex worker at up-market massage parlour

Litus, Chloe’s youngest son

Lysikles, Commander of Athens City Watch 418 to 417 BCE

Melanas, male slave in Themistokles’ country household

Melissa, daughter of Agorakritos and Anthoussa, wife of Themistokles

Melissus, Melissa’s alter ego

Menestratus of Milesia, suspected criminal

Meriope, midwife at the Argive Heraion

Mestor, army commander under Demosthenes

Mika, female slave of Themistokles city household

Mikro, male slave in Themistokles city household

Milos, carter of Kirrha and Delphi

Myrto, Themistokles’ older sister, deceased

Nereus, Athenian general, trader

*Nikias, prominent Athenian general, politician and peace-maker

Nothon, sea captain, brother of Stomio

Nurse (Old) employed intermittently by Anthoussa

*Panainos, Themistokles’ uncle, Eirini’s cousin, Phidias’ brother, master painter

Parilios, Themistokles’ gelding horse

*Phidias, Themistokles’ uncle, Eirini’s cousin, famous sculptor and architect

Photios, Themistokles’ classmate and friend

Phrynondas, Athenian citizen, accuser of Themistokles

*Polykleitos, sculptor from Argos, Phidias’ rival

Polyxene, senior priestess of Athena at Delphi

Popi, shopkeeper and apothecary, Xenovia’s ex slave

Protos, boy slave, son of Melanas, in Themistokles’ country household

Psyllos, member of the City Guard, Scythian Archer

Rodha, Mother, elderly farmer near Argos

*Sappho, Archaic love poet

Scythian Archers, the security forces of the City of Athens

Skias, Scythian Archer

Skionian (the), Io, slave in Themistokles’ city household

Skopas, Melissa’s younger brother

*Sokrates, Athenian philosopher and mason

Spider, or Hierax, street-living friend of Melissus

Stomio, sea captain, older brother of Nothon and Theodoros

Straton, Themistokles’ school-days enemy

Tanu, onetime groom slave in Themistokles’ city household

Terpsichore, Photios’ betrothed

Theano, Pythia, priestess and seer at Delphi

Themis/Themistokles, son of Kallistos, Athenian citizen, sculptor, farmer

*Themistokles, son of Neokles, Athenian general and politician, long deceased Theodoros, wealthy inhabitant of New Chrissa, brother of Stomio

*Timasarchus, brother of Nikias the statesman, symposium guest

Timon, Frog’s and Io’s son

Tithonos, sparring partner of Themis, former Olympic boxing champion

Tryfonos of Athens and Tomis (on the Euxine Sea), wealthy merchant

*Thukydides, son of Melesias, Xenovia’s uncle, now probably deceased

Xenovia, onetime priestess of Athena, daughter of Asterodia

Yellow, Themistokles’ dog

Zephus, Master potter, factory owner

Zephyros, Eirini’s brother, Themistokles’ uncle from Massalia

Zosime, Melissa’s personal slave

England, 2017 CE

Bernie, friend of Suzanne’s from school, her BFF

Cassie, athletics trainer in Carlisle

Dan Short, Suzanne’s father

David, athlete, Suzanne’s boyfriend

Donna, Dan Short’s wife, Suzanne’s step-mother

Karen Jenkins, Suzanne’s mother

Kier, Suzanne’s onetime trainer

Natasha, Suzanne’s second- and third-year housemate

Olivia (Olly), Suzanne’s step-sister

Olwen, Richie’s sister

Paul, athletics trainer at Mid-Lancashire Athletics Club

Penny, Suzanne’s third-year artistic housemate

Ray, Suzanne’s onetime boyfriend

Richie, Suzanne’s mental health counsellor

Sears (Mr JH), consultant neurosurgeon in Durham

Steve Jenkins, Suzanne’s step-father

Suzanne Short, sometimes called Suzz, student at Lancaster University

Theo, Natasha’s boyfriend

Wendy, Dan and Donna Short’s live-out housekeeper

Ancient Greek gods and mythical figures

Aphrodite, goddess of love, married to eiatos, daughter (or sister) of Zeus

Apollo, god of the sun, the arts, prophecy, twin of Artemis, son of Zeus

Artemis, virgin goddess of the moon, hunting, twin of Apollo, daughter of Zeus

Asklepios, god of healing

Athena, goddess of wisdom, handicrafts, guardian of Athens, daughter of Zeus

Demeter, goddess of agriculture, harvest, the seasons, fertility, sister of Zeus

Dionysos, god of wine, madness and theatre

Hades, god of the dead and the Underworld, brother of Zeus

Hephaistos, god of crafts and metalworking, son of Zeus

Hera, goddess of marriage, patroness of women, wife of Zeus

Herakles, mythical hero, demi-god, one of the Argonauts

Hermes, messenger of the gods, conductor of souls to Hades, son of Zeus

Nike, goddess of victory

Pan, god of the wild

Persephone, daughter of Demeter, abducted by Hades

Poseidon, god of the sea, brother of Zeus,

Themis, Titan goddess of natural law, justice, and custom

Zeus, god of the sky, weather, fate, father of the gods

Greek words used in the story

Agora: open space in a city used for a market and other municipal functions. Acroterion, acroteria: roof ornament(s) on corners and ridges

Amphora, amphorae: large, earthenware storage jar(s); some larger than a man.

Andron: room used only by men for eating and socializing and as a study. Apovates: competitors who were passengers in a chariot race who jumped on and off at speed.

Archon: magistrate/city official. In Athens, one of nine chosen by lot each summer. Generals, and a small number of other officials dealing with security and the treasury, were elected.

Chiton: pronounced ‘kite-on’, hitona in modern Greek. This is the main garment or robe worn by men and women. It fell from the shoulders almost to the ground, hitched over a belt or sash tied round the waist or hips. Slaves, children and men working, fighting, hunting or riding, wore shorter versions. Chlamys: short cloak, a rectangle of woven cloth pinned on one shoulder, often part of a soldier’s uniform.

Drachma: unit of currency, worth six obols which were originally bars of iron before coins were made. The word drachma comes from the Ancient Greek for hold or grab. An average man could hold six of the bar obols in his hand. Drachma coins came in values of 10, 4, 2 and 1.

Heraion: sanctuary to the goddess Hera, usually with a main temple, administration and domestic buildings within a wall.

Hetaira: paid female companion for discussion and company as well as sex.

Hellas: the name for Greece in Ancient Greek. The modern Greek for Greece is Elladha, a different form of the same name. Hellenic is the adjective, and Hellenes are the people.

Himation: outer garment or cloak usually fastened round the neck or on the shoulder, sometimes long, sometimes shorter, often with a hood.

Hundred-foot temple: was known by this name at the time it was built (in Greek Ekatopedon). Later called the Parthenon.

Kithara: stringed musical instrument similar to a lyre.

Klepsydra: timer using measured volumes of water, name of a water fountain.

Kottavos: drinking game involving flicking the lees of wine at a target.

Kylix: drinking cup, usually for wine.

Metic: welcome immigrant without citizen’s rights.

Naos: main chamber of a temple.

Nike: Victory. The abstract quality, and the goddess believed to crown victors.

Obol: (see Drachma) one sixth of a drachma.

Paean: song or hymn of triumph or thanksgiving.

Panathenaia, or Panathenaea, annual festival in Athens in honour of the goddess Athena. The Lesser Panathenaia was held in most years with the Great Panathenaia every four years.

Peplos: full-length garment worn by women, hanging from the shoulders, with a deep outer layer to the belted waist.

Peripato: path aound the Athenian Akropolis, near the bottom of the cliffs.

Petteia: a board game of strategy played with black and white pebbles or carved pieces, portrayed on vases, possibly a forerunner to chess.

Propylaia, the great, columned entrance to the sacred space on the Akropolis.

Prytanos, prytaneis: senator, senators, members of the standing committee of 50, in rotation from the 500 members of the Council (see Vouli).

Prytaneion: round building where the 50 prytaneis lived while on duty.

Stade, stades: measure of length. 1 stade was approximately 200 yards or metres, the length of a stadium, which varied. Five stades were approximately equivalent to our kilometre, 8.8 to our mile.

Symposium: a drinking party for men, usually involving an evening meal and discussion of serious topics, at least to start with.

Trierarch: donator and/or commander of a trireme.

Trireme: war ship powered by three tiers of rowers and sail(s).

Vouli: (Boule) the Council of 500 selected by lot each year (50 from each tribe) to prepare business for the Assembly, sometimes used here instead of Council.

Ancient Greek place names

as they often appear, and as they appear here:

Many place and building names are spelled differently in English from the Greek. This is a list of spellings I have chosen. They are as close as possible to the modern Greek pronunciation, followed by ‘traditional’ spellings in English.

Egina - Aegina

Elefsis - Eleusis

Evia - Euboea

Korinth - Corinth

Lakonia - Lacedaemonia

Lavrion - Laurion

Lykavito - Lycabettus

Massalia - Marseilles

Mykines - Mycene

Viotia - Boiotia

Vravron - Brauron

Ydra - Hydra

Ymittos - Hymettus Mt

Some place names have changed altogether:

Athmonon - Maroussi

Great (or Hundred foot) Temple - Parthenon

Mounichia - Kastella

Mounichia Harbour - Tourkolimano

Schinos - Kalamaki

Stalis Island - Koumoundourou Island

Tomis - Constanta

Zea Harbour - Pasalimani

Quotations & Dedication

IMMORTALS ACCOMPANY MORTAL MEN

… AND MAKE THEIR WILL KNOWN.

Inscribed on a building block of Apollo’s temple at Didyma, now in Turkey, the god’s message to Alexandra, priestess of Demeter Thesmophoros, 2nd C CE,

translation Joseph Fontenrose

The world is full of magical things patiently waiting for our wits to grow sharper …

Bertrand Russell (or W B Yeats, or Eden Phillpotts)

For

Andrew and Kanella

Alexandra and Dimitris

Orion and his brother

Hilary, John and Janet

Madison and EJ

and in memory of JWN, JN and EPN

PROLOGUE

Quayside warehouse, Kyme, Anatolia, Winter 417 BCE

‘Exquisite,’ breathes the Persian. ‘A gift fit for a god.’

He is holding a shining silver bowl in the shape of a tortoise shell. It is heaped with pearls gleaming in the torch-light, a pool of beauty in the gloom of the empty, echoing storehouse.

‘Moonlight in my hands,’ he murmurs. ‘Your taste is impeccable.’ He hands the bowl to a slave, one of his large retinue, and turns to the Athenian. ‘But your timing, unfortunately, is not,’ he adds calmly. ‘What news of the fire chests? The King of Kings values them highly.’

‘The fire chests are in a very safe place,’ says the Athenian, certain that the King of Kings himself knows nothing about them. He is sure that they were ‘borrowed’ by this palace official – or whoever is bribing him – for private financial gain.

The Persian continues, his voice lazy, almost a caress. ‘We do, of course, have eyes everywhere. After all, we cannot allow such treasures out of our hands without supervision. You say – and my eyes confirm – that they are as yet unused. I and my master would feel … more comfortable, if they were now returned, as originally agreed.’

‘We are preparing a new offensive,’ says the Athenian soothingly while gesturing to the two men standing behind him. ‘We will use the chests to their greatest potential. Your investment will be multiplied a hundred fold.’

‘Ah, but when?’ drawls the Persian, glancing at the three guards by the closed doors. ‘The delay is already long. As you aspire to becoming the Great King’s representative in the future Persian province of Attica, you would do well to travel with me to the provincial capital tomorrow.’ He fingers the golden brooch on his shoulder and lifts his silver pomander to his nose. Both are in the shape of the imperial lion’s head. He goes on, ‘There you can explain this new offensive to His Excellency, the Satrap, personally appointed by the King of Kings. He is impatient for your news.’

‘There’ll be no need for that.’ The Athenian matches the Persian’s now pointed gaze with a confident smile. ‘The next step is already underway, as I said. Our new team is in place.’

The Persian looks at the doors, his pomander to his nose. ‘Including the man with the famous name? His Excellency will be amused by that.’

The Athenian inclines his head, remembering the ‘eyes everywhere’. ‘Any day now,’ he says quietly.

The Persian murmurs, ‘Underway. Hmm,’ and he nods to the guards.

The Athenian turns at a sound from behind him. The three guards have knocked out his two companions with the hilts of their curved swords. The Athenian steps back hastily, watching as the two unconscious men are rapidly bound together. When that is done, the guards stand to attention, swords drawn.

The Persian shakes his head slightly. ‘Not now. Just the cage today.’

He turns to the Athenian, gesturing with a slight smile to the gift of pearls that the slave is still holding. ‘Even the shell of a tortoise, silver or real, cannot protect its inhabitant completely. If what you promise has not come to pass within fifteen days, your men will finally die, and I will ensure, in whatever way necessary, that you appear before the Satrap.’

‘As you wish,’ replies the Athenian, sweating slightly. ‘As you wish. But believe me, that will not be necessary.’

PART ONE

Followed

Chapter 1: new day

Lancaster, England. October 2017 CE

‘What you laughing at?’ David whispered as he opened his dark eyes too wide. ‘It was … funny?’

Suzanne turned to him. ‘It was perfect,’ she said, and snuggled deeper into the duvet beside him. ‘Best ever.’

‘Ah, of course.’ David grinned. ‘It was so good that you are still happy, even so long later… per’aps because of my French manners, and because I’m such a sensitive man of Sudan?’

Suzanne looked at him, her head tilted. ‘No-o, it’s not that,’ she said. David ran a hand down her thigh. She grinned. ‘Well, not only. But while you were snoring there, I spent a few minutes with Themistokles. He’s also happy, and he’d just woken from a dream at a … um … similar moment.’

David’s elegant black face went from mock-disappointment to relaxed understanding. ‘Ah, your Ancient Man. He doesn’t mind you visiting him at such moments?’

Suzanne giggled. ‘It’s not something I can control. And I don’t think he knew I was there – not this time, at least.’

‘And are you going to write it all down as usual? Alors! Poor man.’

‘Of course. But it’s secret and no one except me will ever see it, so not such a poor man.’

‘If I steal into your computer, I’ll find ’im, no?’

‘No. He’s well hidden. Even a hacker would have trouble.’

‘This I doubt. But now, explain to me …’ said David thoughtfully, ‘you can see ’im … but – and this is ve-e-e-ry important – can ’e see us?’

Suzanne shook her head seriously. ‘Only if I’m looking in a mirror, and even then most likely not.’

David looked around Suzanne’s sparse bedroom. ‘No mirror. So … I am safe,’ he said with a grin.

Suzanne whispered, ‘Not from me.’

<<<

Diomea, Athens, late Winter, 417 BCE

(Breeds of Sheep 41)

Themistokles knew it was a dream even as he watched the masked figure on the circular stage shouting up to the empty theatre. ‘Make her yield!’ it thundered.

Looking up to the top row of curving wooden benches, Themis saw two men tip a body down the long central aisle. It rolled silently over and over down the steps between the seats. He expected blood, twisted limbs, but it was breaking apart as it fell. At last it lay in pieces at the feet of the masked figure, like a shattered doll.

It was not a body. It was – had been – a statue of the goddess Athena.

A wild laugh echoed round the theatre.

As it reverberated, Themistokles, suddenly a mere arm’s length from the jeering figure, reached out his left hand, steady as a rock, to pull off the mask.

The face was warm and smooth and shivered slightly at his touch.

He opened his eyes.

The dream dissolved on a wave of wonder. Birds were calling to greet the dawn. Two green eyes, long-lashed and almond-shaped, gazed at him with unwavering adoration – and was that … triumph?

His wife!

His new, beautiful, young, headstrong, unsuitable (according to his mother), perfect (according to him), wife, was finally beside him.

‘At last,’ she whispered. ‘I’ve been awake for ages. I was watching you sleep. You dribble, you know.’

Themistokles felt he would explode with joy. ‘And you don’t?’ he countered. Their wedding night had all but undone the plaits and decorations of her unruly, chestnut-brown hair. He reached out and stroked her cheek, softer than the breast of a song-thrush.

Melissa wrinkled her nose at him. She said, ‘Lovely present, your dear friend Photios gave us – rotting fish under the bed. It stinks even more this morning. But it does sound like the guests have all gone.’

Themis said, ‘Maybe we’ve just been making our own fishy smell.’ He laid a gentle hand over her mouth, and pulled her into his arms.

In fact, not everyone had left after the wedding. Later, when Themis opened the door with the basket of stinking fish in his hand, his mother, Eirini, was waiting in the courtyard.

‘Where is Melissa?’ she asked, glaring at him. ‘I want to talk to her privately before I leave. And if we don’t leave now, we won’t make it to your sister’s house before dark.’

Themis handed the basket to his slave, Frog, who weighed it in his hand and murmured, ‘Five shots is the norm they said / for a wedding night of bliss. / But I’d wager, when it’s weighed, / There’ll be ten or more in this.’

Themis had to laugh. ‘Maybe even fifteen, not including Photios’ rotting fish,’ he whispered, clapping Frog on his shoulder as he turned for the kitchens. Themistokles’ dog, Yellow, got up from a sunny spot on the other side of the courtyard and came over to sniff his master’s crotch.

Themis fondled the dog’s ears, then stretched hugely towards the clear blue sky. He smiled down at his exasperated mother. ‘You taught Melissa and her peers so well at Vravrona, I don’t think she needs any more advice. Anyway, she’s gone to the shrine of Hera to make an offering.’

‘Through the storeroom to avoid me, I suppose,’ said Eirini.

Themis was edging his mother towards the street door where his sister, Chloe, waited. He winked at her over their mother’s elaborate, wedding-guest hairstyle. Chloe tilted her head and gave him an impatient stare.

‘Come along, Mama,’ she said, gesturing at the street outside. Her husband and children were already in the family cart. ‘We really must set off. The boys are getting restless and torturing the mules.’

Eirini looked sternly back at Themis and said, ‘What I wanted to say to Melissa was to warn her of the rumours about you. Don’t imagine I don’t hear them. Men say you insist there are saboteurs in the City, that they are trying to destroy it from inside. But you cite no proof, no evidence, and so you are ridiculed. You may even be risking arrest. I wanted to say to her that she should persuade you to change your opinions, at least in public, so that there is nothing for your enemies to accuse you of. And you do have enemies. There is always jealousy when a person – man or woman – is outstanding in some way … ’ She sighed in frustration. ‘That’s all I wanted to tell her – and you.’

She was right of course, although she didn’t know the whole story, and he couldn’t tell her any more. He stood and watched her as she looked around the courtyard. Her eyes rested on the two colonnades, on the inner window to her husband’s andron (now his, as her only remaining son), and on the shuttered window to the room where he and his older brother Diodotos had slept as children and where he had just spent his wedding night. Her gaze went to the wooden stairs that led up to what had been her own domain, and was now Melissa’s. She sighed gently as she looked at the vine that her husband had planted more than twenty years before, when Themis’ twin brother had died of a fever. It was gnarled and leafless now in midwinter.

Then she looked up again at her son’s face. ‘I shall pray every day to all the gods that will listen that you will see sense.’ Her voice hardened a little. ‘And … that your new wife becomes worthy of you and gives you ten strong children.’

Themis laughed with relief. The sound echoed round the courtyard. He leant close and whispered in his mother’s ear, ‘At least two from this night alone!’

Eirini pushed him away from her and stroked a finger down his bearded cheek. ‘Ach! You have your father’s personality, but your face is from my family.’ Her smile was tight, but then it softened. ‘May the gods bless you in your new life.’ Her light brown eyes deepened as she looked directly into his for a long moment. Then she turned away and walked out into the street.

Themis kissed Chloe’s cheek, then helped his mother and sister into the cart. He waved dutifully as it set off down the street, then crossed the courtyard in long strides to the kitchen. Whatever he might have to deal with later, now he had one more gift for his new wife; a gift that would have caused outrage if he’d given it to her in public. Now he was free to fetch it.

‘Don’t tell Melissa I’m out if she comes back before me,’ he said to Frog. Frog looked round. He was helping his wife, Io, stack the crockery to be returned to the wedding guests. Melissa’s slave, Adrasteia, would take it to the relevant houses later.

Frog chanted, straight-faced, in an imitation of Melissa’s voice, ‘Have they gone? Is he here? / I hear no moans, no groans or shouts. / They have gone. He’s not here. / And I’m left alone with my doubts … ’ He finished with an exaggerated expression of apprehension.

Io smiled proudly at her feet.

Themis shook his head in mock disapproval. ‘Doubts? About what?’ he queried. Then he said, as Frog took a breath to answer, ‘On second thoughts, don’t answer that. Just don’t say where I’ve gone.’

‘But you haven’t told me – us,’ said Frog, his eyes wide and innocent, as he gestured at Io.

Themis smiled to himself as he ran along the street to the horse dealer’s. Melissa had never been allowed an animal of her own in her father’s house. Even when she’d dressed as a boy and ridden on errands, or worked in her father’s sculpture yard, it had never been suggested. Now she would be one of the few young women in Athens with her own mount.

He’d put down a deposit on the best that Tanu, his previous groom, could find – a chestnut filly with one white front foot. Now he paid the dealer the rest of the price and led the pony home via the stable door from the back alley.

Tanu had bought his freedom and left for Thessaly, where it was said the horses were cleverer than the people. So Mikro, who had been body slave to Diodotos’ until he was killed at the battle of Mantinea, had been promoted.

‘Mikro!’ Themistokles called as Yellow came out to examine the filly. Mikro appeared from the stall where Themis’ own horse, Parilios, whinnied at the sound of his voice. ‘Ah, there you are,’ said Themis. ‘Here at last is my wife’s pony. She’s called Autumn Leaf – she answers to Leaf. Give her a bit of sweet hay, and some water.’

‘Shall I put on her new bridle, the green one?’ asked Mikro, stroking Leaf’s soft, warm nose.

‘Always that extra touch, eh, Mikro?’ said Themis, fending off Parilios’ butting chin and Yellow’s foot on his sandal.

‘And there are some jonquils just opened down by the river. I could thread some into the bridle …’

Themis shook his head with a grin. ‘Later,’ he said. ‘Is Melissa back?’

Mikro gave his birdlike nod.

‘She’ll probably want to ride Leaf immediately, so just be ready to saddle her.’

Mikro bobbed his head again and turned to Autumn Leaf. ‘Welcome to your new home, girl,’ he whispered.

Yellow suddenly growled deep in his throat, and a familiar voice called from the stable door, ‘Themis! You in there?’

Themis stepped out into the alley, Yellow at his side. ‘Photios! What are you doing here? You look terrible. You should be sleeping after all the wine you drank here last night.’

‘It’s not the wine,’ croaked Photios. His eyes were appalled as he looked up into Themis’ face. ‘It’s … ’ He took a shaky breath. ‘I … I tripped over Popi the apothecary’s body on my way to Terpsichore’s house.’ He gagged and bent over.

Themis led him to the mounting block and sat him down. ‘Don’t move while I get a bucket,’ he said quietly.

Mikro handed him one from inside the stable.

Photios stared at the leather bucket between his feet with unseeing eyes. ‘I was going to say goodbye to Terpsichore, then come on here. I’m off to Epidaurus tomorrow. Oh, Themis!’ He was controlling sobs. ‘They’d left her in a heap on the doorstep of her shop. Who knows how long she’d been there? I tripped over her feet – her poor mangled feet. I thought she was dead. Her face was all blood – one arm broken like a doll – blood all down her legs – chiton in shreds.’ He bent over and vomited into the bucket.

‘Hades, Zeus and Poseidon!’ Themis swore, as his dream flashed through his mind. ‘Why!? Why kill Popi? … Have you told the Scythians?’

Photios coughed and Mikro handed him a clean rag to wipe his face. ‘I sent Terpsichore’s father, then tried to lift Popi into the shop.’ He looked up at Themis with horrified, brimming eyes. ‘But she wasn’t dead,’ he sobbed. ‘She spoke.’

Themis’ stomach contracted. ‘Flay the Furies! No wonder you’re puking. Did she say who did it to her?’

‘No. She just said, Didn’t tell again and again. I shouted for help. Her sister appeared and started to scream. That brought Terpsichore’s uncle. He got the sister away. I heard Popi sort of groan. She said, "He wrote that tablet, not she. He! Curse him! Curse him to Hades!" That was her last word – Hades … Came straight here. Thought you should know.’ Photios bowed his head to the bucket again.

Mikro had brought a beaker of water. Themis took it from him and said, ‘Run to Photios’ house and bring one of his brothers or slaves or someone to help him home. Take Yellow with you.’

Mikro nodded and he and the dog ran out of the alley.

His mind in turmoil, Themis held Photios’ head as he vomited again. Which tablet did Popi mean? His life-long enemy, Xenovia’s? Or one he knew nothing about?

And who was the ‘he’ Popi was so angry with? Perhaps the man who killed her, though it sounded as though there must have been more than one. Impossible to know. His own stomach heaved.

Photios drank from the beaker. With Themis’ hand on his shoulder, he’d begun to calm down when Isidorus, his older brother, hurried up.

‘They’ve taken the body away and are questioning the neighbours,’ Isidorus said, helping Photios to his feet. ‘The word has gone out that anyone with information or questions should report to the City Watch as soon as possible.’

Photios was still shaking and pale. Themis watched Isidorus help him away, then went back into the stable and leaned his face against Parilios’ warm cheek. The gelding made a sound in his throat.

‘What’s it all about, Parilios?’ Themis murmured. ‘Why would they murder Popi? How was she a threat? Had she guessed who the saboteurs are? If her last words were about the tablet she gave me, she must have learned who the he is who wrote it. A man. Not Xenovia, the dead priestess, as we thought. Which would mean it wasn’t Xenovia who wanted me to work for our mysterious traitors in the City – at least, not any more. So who?

‘Is it the same he who was the benefactor who bet that I couldn’t swim under the harbour net? If so, he had the perfect opportunity to offer me permanent work then. Or perhaps later, when they kidnapped me. But nothing further happened when I escaped. Why not? Who in Hades is behind all this?’ He reached up, grabbed the horse’s ears and gently rubbed their cheeks together. Parilios pushed back and shook his head a little.

‘Whoever it is, there’s no sign that they know that I found that great chest under the water in the bay,’ Themis thought silently. ‘I should ask Commander Lysikles if there’s any news about that – and maybe they already know something about Popi’s killer. But not just now … ’

He said out loud to Mikro, ‘Better not mention Photios’ news to Melissa yet – today of all days.’ Mikro was now cleaning out the mule’s stable while Yellow sprawled in the clean straw. He bobbed agreement.

Themis stood back and looked deep into Parilios’ huge, calm eye. ‘Look after Leaf,’ he said, turning towards the house door.

Out in the courtyard Themis called, ‘Where are you, Melissa? I have a present for you!’

But instead of Melissa, a portly visitor got to his feet from a bench in the sun.

Uncle Zephyros.

Themis sighed.

‘Themistokles, my boy!’ boomed Uncle Zephyros, his great voice bouncing off the courtyard walls. ‘Your house is too quiet for the day after your wedding. Where is everyone? I came to wish you long life and happiness before I set off for Thurii, but there’s no one here!’

Themis saw Frog’s face at the kitchen door disappear as soon as he’d greeted his uncle. ‘There’s a lot to do when you start a new life, Uncle. You know that better than I.’

Today his uncle seemed less intimidating than usual. But then, in spite of Photios’ horrific story and his constant state of heightened apprehension, Themis was invincible today. He’d probably sired a son during the night and if not, was looking forward to lots more attempts.

He grinned and clapped Zephyros on both shoulders. ‘Melissa has a new household to manage and I had business that wouldn’t wait.’ He turned his uncle towards the street door where Zephyros’ skinny slave dithered. Yellow appeared and helped herd them out. ‘Thank you for your wishes. I shall pray to Poseidon to give you a smooth voyage back. The seas can be treacherous at this time of year.’

Zephyros stopped at the door and turned to Themis. ‘I want you to consider my offer very carefully,’ he said. ‘You are established here, of course: a well-thought-of citizen, farmer, painter, sculptor, Olympic boy champion. Warms my heart to see you prospering. But the cities of Greater Hellas are expanding rapidly. You can live as you decide to live, not as dictated by the City of Athens, with its back stabbing and deadly intrigues. And you can get rich! Thurii is thriving, full of new enterprises, clever people and bright ideas. The skirmishes with other cities are inconsequential there, unlike this ridiculous, exorbitant war between Athens and Sparta. Now you’ll be having children, and you really must consider the broader world. It’ll be thirty years before such opportunities will be possible again in Athens – if they ever are.’

‘You are right, Uncle. It is something to think seriously about,’ said Themis, ushering Zephyros out into the street. ‘I will certainly discuss it with my wife.’ He laughed. ‘Yes, my wife and I will think it over together. I appreciate your offer very much and wish you good journeys.’

As his uncle was driven away, Themis stood waving and thinking, ‘But I won’t be leaving till I know who the ship-burning, woman-murdering traitors are.’ He turned to go in, patting Yellow’s head with one hand and the stone-carved hair of the new Herm with the other. He’d carved it to celebrate his marriage. Its phallus was markedly larger than the old one.

In the courtyard, he saw Melissa at the top of the stairs to the women’s rooms, looking down at him.

He ran up the first few steps to meet her, excited by the thought of her reaction to Autumn Leaf.

But Melissa’s expression stopped him dead.

‘What’s this?’ he said, stepping down a step. ‘Don’t look at me like that. Tell me what’s wrong. If you need something else, we’ll get it.’

She was clenching her fists to control her temper. ‘I have found something that needs explanation,’ she said deliberately. She turned briskly, her long, married-woman’s robe swishing round her ankles.

He followed her into his workroom. It had once been his mother’s weaving room and now was where he made his colours and stored his painting materials, pictures and sketches. No one except Frog came in here with him. His jaw tensed with anger. ‘What were you doing in here?’ he asked, keeping his voice even. ‘This isn’t one of the women’s rooms anymore.’

Melissa stopped in front of the table where a painting on a thin board was propped up and covered. ‘I thought we’d shown each other everything we’d made,’ she said. ‘But you never showed me this.’ She pulled the flimsy cloth off and stood back.

In the picture, a nymph knelt by a pool among sparse rocks and shrubs, under an empty sky. A twisted tree leant over part of the pool. The nymph was wearing a strange kind of loincloth and a tight bodice that revealed the exact shape of her breasts and waist. The style was not like the vase paintings or murals that Themis did for money. It was more fluid, with subtler colours. The nymph had very short, light brown hair and a child-like profile. She was looking into the mirror-smooth pool at her reflection. But it wasn’t a reflection of her own face that she was gazing at.

It was the face of Themis himself.

Themis had never shown this painting to anyone. Frog had seen it by accident, but Frog didn’t gossip.

Melissa turned to Themis, her face pale, her clenched hands shaking. ‘So who is that?’

Themis sighed. ‘She’s not here,’ he said. ‘You needn’t worry. She may not even be real, and she is certainly not in competition with you.’

Melissa was bewildered, but still angry. ‘Is it a goddess, a dryad, a naiad?’

‘No. I think she’s a real person, a mortal human, but I’ve only … ’ How could he explain this intruder, this Visitor to his inner mind? He’d never told anyone about her except Frog.

‘Come and sit down a minute,’ he said. They sat on two stools, facing each other. Themis took Melissa’s hands in his. She didn’t stop him, but her eyes were wary, ready to ignite.

He said, ‘Do you remember when you told me you often hear voices telling you things that don’t seem important, and there was one that mentioned lightning from the sea? And that helped me stop the second attack on the war ships?’

Melissa nodded. ‘Of course! I was in Vravrona, and the goddess told me that Athena needed to watch out for smoking lightning from the sea.’

‘Well,’ said Themis, ‘this picture is a … well, a celebration of the only time I’ve ever seen the person I think is my own … er … voice in my head.’

Melissa’s eyes opened wide in disbelief and surprise, but she didn’t speak, so Themis went on. ‘It was a long time ago, and at first I did believe she was a goddess, or some kind of naiad. But over time it became clear she isn’t. She’s not with me constantly, but sometimes she makes suggestions, or leads me to new ideas. At least, I think she does.’ He shrugged. ‘I call her my Visitor.’

Melissa tilted her head thoughtfully with her eyes on the painted girl’s face. ‘You don’t think it’s the voice of your twin who died?’

‘We were only five years old. I don’t think he had much experience of the world. And anyway, I did see her, just that once, and she is quite clearly someone with much wisdom. Like your voices.’

Now she looked accusingly into his eyes. ‘You never mentioned her before.’

‘No. I didn’t tell anyone in case they thought I was possessed. I thought I might be possessed for months. Only Frog knows about her, and then only part of it. But I did tell you that I fell off my horse and hit my head when I was twelve, before I went to Olympia, didn’t I?’

Melissa nodded. Themis went on, ‘What I didn’t tell you was that people believed then that I’d been … changed by the accident – or the gods. I had no memory at all at first. It was as though someone else was living with me, inside my head, helping me make sense of a world I couldn’t remember. And apart from that, there were dreams. I saw terrible things in my dreams.

‘And everyone was saying I was different – quieter, more thoughtful of others. I still remember her gentle ways, and I try to see things from more than one angle. At least, I hope I do. Anyway … with time, my own memories came back, and she started to come and go – not be with me all the time. Eventually she seemed to have left altogether and I didn’t feel her for years and almost forgot about her. But then I went to Elefsis and was initiated.’ Themis smiled at Melissa. ‘And there I learned I wasn’t the only one who heard voices, though no one seems to have quite the same kind of Visitor as I do.’

Melissa’s eyes opened wide. ‘They tell you about this kind of thing at the Mysteries?’

‘You learn about … various things,’ said Themis. ‘You know we’re not allowed to talk about what we do or see at Elefsis. You’ll learn yourself one day. But I met other people, men and women, who obviously hear or feel the presence of beings they don’t otherwise know. They feel a connection with a world that seems to be inside us, a different world to this, but still ours. It’s hard to explain. But it was a great relief and I wished I’d known before.’

‘That’s just it!’ exclaimed Melissa. ‘Different, but still me! I’ve always assumed it was gods that I hear. But I’ve never seen anyone. You saw her?’

‘Yes. And I haven’t met anyone else who admits to seeing their voices. So I keep quiet about her,’ Themis gestured at his painting, ‘in case people believe that that old injury still affects me. Which in a way it does, I suppose.’

Melissa stood up in frustration. ‘Why didn’t you say something when I told you about Athena and the smoking lightning? All this time, I thought maybe you didn’t believe me but were just being nice.’

‘Think about it, Melissa,’ said Themis. ‘When you said you’d heard a voice, I didn’t say you were crazy, or get jealous like other people, did I?’

‘N-no … , I suppose not.’

‘Well, that’s why. Something similar happens to me.’

‘Still? Now?’

‘Yes, at times I can tell she’s here.’ He tapped the back of his head.

‘So,’ said Melissa, looking down on him, half closing her eyes against the sunlight streaming in the window, ‘we both have voices – or visitors. D’you think that’s because we both paint and sculpt?’

Themis stood up and put his hands on her shoulders. ‘Perhaps. Or maybe it’s why we paint and sculpt.’ He began to put his arms around her, but she danced away from him with a teasing twirl and stood to face him from across the room.

‘Alright, then. What’s this present you were shouting about? Is it a portrait of me?’ she said, striking a pose.

Themis strode over to her, caught her hand and said, ‘Come and see!’

‘Oh – she’s perfect!’ said Melissa, stroking Leaf’s soft nose. ‘She’s the best present you could ever give me!’ She flung her arms round his neck and kissed his beard.

Themis unwound her arms and held her away from him. ‘I’m glad you like her,’ he said seriously. ‘She looks, as you can see, exactly like you, so I didn’t need to make a portrait.’

Melissa made a sign and mouthed a word learned from her street urchin friends, then turned to Mikro. ‘Is she ready to go out?’

Mikro nodded with wide eyes. ‘All ready,’ he said. He took the green bridle off its hook on the wall and began to fit it to Leaf.

‘Oh! I’ve just thought,’ Melissa said, looking at Themis. ‘I’ll have to dress as a boy to ride, won’t I?’

‘It would be easier,’ said Themis. ‘Just this first time.’

Melissa grinned. ‘Can I borrow a cap and a chiton from Frog,’ she said. ‘Yours would be huge on me.’

A short time later, Themis and a ‘groom’ rode out of the stable door into the street. They set off at a walk for the nearest bridge over the Ilissos River that led to the wilder slopes of Mount Ymittos. Yellow, ordered to stay, sat by the new Herm and watched them go with knowing eyes.

>>>

Lancaster, England, Friday, October 13th, 2017 CE

Suzanne closed the carefully disguised ‘Breeds of Sheep’ file on her laptop, still feeling sick from typing up Photios’ description of Popi’s death and the anger and confusion it had caused Themis. She tried to imagine why someone had done that to Popi. Had she refused a drunken rapist? Or not paid her protection money?

‘There are times when I find it really hard keeping the horrors of your life out of my own,’ Suzanne whispered to Themis across the millennia, and to her own reflection in the screen. She closed the laptop and began getting ready to go out with David. ‘But then sometimes,’ she went on, ‘something great happens in your life, like the painting! I got a good look at it. It’s the one of me!’ She opened a drawer and took out her makeup and magnifying mirror. ‘You finished it, and it’s almost modern, way ahead of your time!’ She stood the mirror up so she could see her face and spoke to him as if he were there. Perhaps he was …

‘And who are those other people you said have visitors? I didn’t remember you’d had the same kind of shit storms I get from people thinking I’m mental – especially my mum. I thought in your time this kind of telepathy was more common. You don’t give away anything about the Mysteries even to me, do you? And there’s nothing much I’ve been able to learn about them except the bits to do with fertility – always a secret.’

She heard the front door open and Penny and David’s voices. Then David called out, ‘Hi, Sooz. You in the loo?’

‘No. In my room. Doing my face,’ she called. She loved the way he said Sooz, not Suzz. She went on quietly addressing her own face in the mirror. ‘I wonder why David doesn’t feel threatened by you. D’you think he has a visitor himself? There’s this counsellor and psychotherapist I see called Richie, and he says he’s met and read about other people who hear voices regularly.’ She began pulling on her boots as she heard the toilet flush. ‘But, like me – and you – they don’t usually tell anyone, and I don’t feel it’s right to ask him.’ She checked her bag for what she’d need at the nightclub. ‘Bad things can happen when you do tell, of course. Look at Melissa getting beaten up by her fellow teenagers at Vravrona. And Joan of Arc! She was the same age as I was when this all began.’

The following evening, Suzanne and David were training together, running out of Lancaster on the towpath by the disused Lancaster canal. High up on the aqueduct that led the canal over the River Lune, they stopped to look down at the curve of the river as it ran towards the sea. The trees on either side were turning orange, brown, yellow. The reflection of the sunset sky and their colours set the two levels of smooth waters aflame.

‘England can be quite nice in autumn,’ said David.

Suzanne stifled a memory of the spectacular colours in the woods round Themis’ farm in autumn, after the grapes had been harvested and pressed. ‘But not usually?’ she said with a grin. ‘Nice’ was a word she’d told him was imprecise and out of fashion. So of course he used it a lot.

‘England is perfect,’ he said, ‘if you like wet weather, and food with no taste, and smelly forgotten canals … ’

Suzanne wasn’t quite sure how much he was joking, so she said, ‘Let’s go and see my mum next week – the Lake District with autumn colours.’

David gave his slow, happy laugh. ‘This … would be very nice – not only quite nice.’ They set off again beside the aqueduct. ‘And your father?’

‘He lives further north, near Carlisle, so maybe another time.’

‘He pays for your studies, no?’

‘Mm hm. Why?’

‘Per’aps he likes to know how you spend his money, huh? Do you give ’im a breakdown – is that how you say it?’

‘He’s never asked for one.’

‘Ah. Another nice thing about England.’

<<<

Chapter 2: first ride

(Breeds of Sheep 42)

Themis reached over to take Melissa’s hand as they rode. But she kept it out of reach and glanced at him sideways from under her cap with a wicked smile. ‘There’s a time and a place for that,’ she said quietly.

Themis sighed ruefully and patted Parilios’ shoulder with his spurned hand. ‘Are you sure you really want to ride all the way up to Aphrodite’s precinct?’ he said.

‘Of course!’ Melissa’s eyes were wide and excited.

A line from an old song came into Themis’ mind: ‘Floating in the shine of your eyes.’ He smiled at his obsession with Melissa’s eyes.

But she was still speaking. ‘We have a lot to thank her for. And I’ve never been inside the precinct. They say you can see forever to the west – beyond Korinth. Why would you want to cut short my first ride?’ She patted Leaf’s neck.

The horses’ hooves drummed on wood as they crossed the bridge where he’d fallen and hit his head so long ago. The road ahead had less traffic. It followed the little valley beside a makeshift stadium where athletes were training, then zigzagged up a sharp slope and out onto the mountainside. From there, it wound and climbed between rocky outcrops and single farmsteads to Aphrodite’s small but perfect temple, part way up Mount Ymittos. Themis kicked Parilios into a canter. ‘You want to ride? Let’s see what Leaf can do,’ he called over his shoulder.

At the entrance to the sanctuary he brought Parilios to a skidding halt and jumped down. He looked back along the road where it came out of the trees. There was no sign of Melissa. He led the horse down the short slope to the stream that ran out from under the precinct wall. Others had been there earlier, churning up mud. Parilios refused to drink but began to crop the grass under the wall. Themis sat down with his back against the mottled bark of a naked plane tree. Its leaves still covered the ground in faded crimson and yellow, though the year had turned a month earlier.

The last time he’d been here, he thought he’d seen Xenovia, the ex-priestess who had murdered his father. At that time, he had seemed to see her everywhere and had believed she was stalking him.

But she was dead now and he was a different man. He was in love for the first time in his life. ‘This,’ he thought, ‘must be what they mean when they call it the madness of Eros. Nothing else seems to matter. Even what has happened to Popi doesn’t change it. I want to sing, to fight, to crow like a cock, to paint everything in gold and purple, to show all the men of Athens that I have the most beautiful, most intelligent girl in the world as my wife.’

He shuddered suddenly, stood up, and rubbed his forehead against Parilios’ damp cheek. ‘And I hope you’ll forgive me, but all the time, I want to be riding her, not you!’ he whispered into the horse’s ear. ‘I know it’s irrational, but those vases I decorate, the memorial for my brother that I’m working on, the farm I need to oversee, they’re are all so much more attractive, more important, more valid now.’ Parilios shifted his feet and snickered quietly. Themis stood back as he caressed the horse’s nose. ‘And all because of Melissa. And yet she hasn’t changed. She’s just herself, and I’ve known her since she was a baby. How can she have the power to affect every aspect of my life? She’s not a goddess!’

Parilios snorted.

Something landed in Themis’ hair. He brushed a hand across his head and looked up. In the tree, a little further up than he could reach, sat his beautiful, intriguing wife, tossing bits of twig at him. Behind the tree stood Leaf, motionless, her reins trailing. ‘Not a goddess,’ Melissa said thoughtfully. ‘More like a fury!’ She giggled as she loosed handfuls of twigs at Themis.

He grinned up at her, brushing away the debris. ‘You weren’t supposed to hear that, of course. How did you get up there so quietly? I’ll remember your clandestine street-gang ways in future! Come down and let’s go in and talk to a real goddess. What have you brought her?’

Melissa didn’t answer, but swung down and gathered up Leaf’s reins. They tethered the horses under the covered colonnade by the gate sheltered from the breeze, and went into Aphrodite’s sanctuary.

It was built on a series of three wide terraces in the steep mountainside. A forest of tall trees surrounded it, but inside the wall, the terraces were paved with coloured marbles in intricate patterns. The stream cut through them in its man-made channel, running down to exit near the gate. The sound of its little waterfalls was almost drowned by the birdcalls and the sigh of the trees in the wind. The temple was on the top terrace, its painted columns and carved reliefs glowing yellow, red and blue