Wrath of the Furies Read Online Free Page B

laughed. “You sound like a Roman lawyer, splitting hairs! Though you hardly look like one.” The soft light of the lamps picked out glints of many colors amid her black tresses, and the creamy smoothness of her forehead and cheeks shone like ivory. “The point is clear: Antipater desperately needs someone to help him, someone he can trust. Instead, he finds himself alone, and in terrible danger.”
    â€œWhose fault is that?” asked Kettel. “From what you’ve told us, Gordianus, the whole time the two of you traveled together, your old tutor was secretly spying for King Mithridates. And no sooner did he reveal the truth to you here in Alexandria than he vanished, leaving you to fend for yourself. Well, now you know where he ended up. He’s in Ephesus, residing with this old pupil of his, Eutropius—another supporter of Mithridates, from the way Antipater describes him. So he’s hardly alone, is he? He and his host should both be happy, since the king has virtually driven the Romans out of Asia.”
    â€œAnd yet,” I said, “Antipater doesn’t feel safe, even in the house of Eutropius. He fears for his life, and the source of his fear appears to be the king himself—or else the ‘vicious little queen,’ as Antipater calls her. Somehow Antipater must have offended them, and now he fears he may be killed at any moment.”
    â€œIf your old tutor has been swept up in the dangers of court intrigue, that’s not your fault, Gordianus,” said Kettel. “Spying is a dangerous profession. It requires deceiving people. What is a spy, but a master of deception—and who can trust such a man, or ever be certain where his loyalties lie? Believe me, no one is more suspicious and distrustful than a king. When Berynus and I served in the royal palace under King Ptolemy, we saw many a shady character come and go. Some received great rewards at the whim of our master. Others lost their heads. Not a few met with both fates—first the reward, then the beheading.”
    An image flashed in my mind: Antipater with his neck on an executioner’s chopping block, and the blade descending, hewing his head from his shoulders, sending his white-bearded, white-haired head tumbling off in one direction while blood spurted from his decapitated neck. I gasped and gave such a jerk that Bethesda clutched my feet to steady me.
    â€œThere are other questions that need to be asked,” said Berynus, frowning and training his beady gaze on me. “If this ‘fragment,’ as you call it, wasn’t sent to you by Antipater, then who did send it, and how did the sender come into possession of it? And why was it sent to you, here in Egypt? This odd, orphaned scrap of parchment was sent to you by an unknown person with an unknown agenda. There’s court intrigue behind this, I’ll wager. And you, Gordianus, would do well to stay clear of it.”
    Kettel nodded sagely, compressing his multiple chins. “Or it may be that this scrap comes not from a secret diary but from a letter written by Antipater—a letter not addressed to you, Gordianus, and therefore none of your business. Or…” He narrowed his eyes until they were almost lost between his fat cheeks and the furrows of his forehead, and his pupils glinted like shards of glass reflecting the starlight. “Or could it be that Antipater is behind the whole thing—that the master spy contrived this ‘fragment’ as ruse to stir your sympathy, and sent it to you anonymously.”
    â€œBut for what possible purpose?” I said.
    Kettel and Berynus answered in unison: “To lure you to Ephesus!”
    I shook my head. “Such an idea is … utterly fantastic. If Antipater wanted me to join him, he would simply write to me and say so.”
    â€œAfter the things he did to you?” said Kettel.
    â€œLying to you, betraying you, making a fool of you?”