The Ionia Sanction Read Online Free

the wall. There were a hundred tiny wooden splinters sticking out of my flesh, each one a painful red dot of blood.
    On the other side, men lay with wounds, or stood in simple shock. I ignored them.
    Araxes veered away from the streets of Piraeus. He headed right, to the commercial docks.
    I felt a small surge of relief. If he tried to hide in the warehouses, he would be trapped, and a small army would eventually root him out.
    I was exhausted and shaking, but surely he had to be too. Araxes staggered and came to a stop.
    I’d run him down.
    Araxes stood on the wooden docks and waved to me as if he hadn’t a care in the world.
    Suddenly I was aware of the sea-salt air, the crisp breeze tossing my hair, the wash of the sea against the wharves, and the large ship docked right next to where Araxes waved.
    It was stern-to-wharf, which some ships will do when they’re ready to depart. A gangplank led from the wharf to the stern.
    Araxes turned and walked up. They didn’t even stop for the gangplank. A sailor kicked it crashing to the wharf.
    I heard the call, “Oars out!” A single row of oars appeared over both sides.
    I came to a juddering halt at the gangplank, gasping for breath. The ship was five paces away. I thought about jumping, but it would have been suicidal. Even if I made the leap, there was a boatful of sailors to fight.
    The ship on which Araxes slipped away was long, but with only a single row of oars. She was either a diplomatic boat, the sort that belonged to a city, or … and this seemed all too depressingly likely … before me was a Phoenician warship, or maybe a pirate.
    Araxes appeared at the stern. He waved cheerily, and then, with his left hand, held up the scroll for me to see. He cupped a hand to his mouth and shouted, “So pleased you made it. Take care, dear fellow. Bye!”
    I gritted my teeth, but couldn’t prevent myself from screaming in frustration. Araxes had escaped, and taken with him the information that had killed at least three men, maybe more, plus he’d made me look incompetent. I watched as whatever fledgling reputation I had for investigation departed on that boat.
    I swore on the spot, by Zeus, by Athena, by every God that knew revenge, that I would track down Araxes.
    Then a trickle of sweat and a cold shiver ran down my back. I’d promised Pericles success.
    I’d actually said, “He can’t escape.”
    What was Pericles going to say?

 
    3
There is a strength in the union even of very sorry men.
    “It’s a disaster, Nicolaos, a bloody disaster.”
    Pericles stalked back and forth in his office, as if he could find the source of his anguish underfoot and grind it out of existence.
    I shifted in my seat. My arms were on fire from the splintering they’d taken. They had a crust of blood over them, but the scabs broke and bled every time I moved. My forehead sported a lump—I had no idea how it got there—and my chest muscles ached with every breath.
    “How could you have let him get away so easily?” Pericles demanded.
    “We did our best,” I muttered. “I didn’t get these injuries sitting still.”
    “Don’t whine,” he said testily. He turned his back and gazed out the window.
    “There are men worse off than you. Two of those guards are dead. One has his kneecap shattered and will probably never walk straight again. He was chosen to run at the next Olympics. How am I supposed to explain this to their fathers?” He turned back to me.
    “And how in Hades did a Phoenician ship get alongside the commercial docks without anyone noticing?”
    “I’ll ask the harbormaster, but Pericles, is there a law against it?”
    “If there isn’t, there will be now!”
    I decided not to point out that horse had bolted. In fact, any mention of a bolting horse would probably be a bad idea.
    “I’m disappointed, Nicolaos. I trusted you with a vital, delicate mission, and this is the result you bring me. I’m reconsidering our arrangement.”
    Disaster. If Pericles