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  Melitta had regained consciousness and was attempting to rise. They helped her to her feet, but she was too weak to walk. Some in the crowd had stayed to watch Nikodemos’s friends carry his body into a nearby shop, away from curious onlookers.

  Seb knew they needed to move from there as quickly as possible. He lifted Melitta into his arms and carrying her firmly led them away from the marketplace, through the busy streets, without once looking back.

  Alexios lived in one of the quieter areas of the city. His family’s house was large and austere, the house of an aristocrat. Seb knew from Andreas that Alexios’s father was one of those responsible for the governance of the polis, and that the family was well-known in intellectual circles.

  As they approached the entrance a servant rushed forward to help them, followed by Alexios’s mother, Korinna. Melitta was placed on a low bed and immediately attended to by the women. Korinna ordered warm water, clean cloths and a salve for the girl’s injuries. She ran a practised hand across her brow, stroking her hair and speaking to her quietly and soothingly. Melitta relaxed and closed her eyes. Korinna waited until she was comfortable, then rose and gestured to Seb and Alexios to leave her in the care of the servants.

  The three walked together to the family’s private quarters across a central courtyard, where Korinna saw to her son’s and Seb’s injuries.

  “Tell me what happened later,” she said. “These injuries need to be washed and treated with oil, and covered. I’ll have bowls of water brought to your room. Kyros will attend to you both and arrange that Sebastian has a bed for the night. I will inform Andreas that Sebastian is here.” Her voice softened. “Then I would like you both to get some sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.”

  She had called him by name. She remembers me from the shop.

  Korinna left the room and Alexios looked at Seb. “What form of combat is that?” he asked. “Where did you learn to fight in that way?”

  “It’s called karate,” Seb said, grinning. “You wouldn’t have heard of it, but it’s popular where I come from. We study it for self-defence. I’ve never had to use it in a real fight before but I knew I’d find the training useful one day.” He sliced the air with his arm and with a relieved sigh sank into a chair, his energy fast waning.

  Alexios laughed, and then said seriously, “Thank you for saving my life. That thug was about to kill me. I’m in your debt.”

  “And I’m in yours,” Seb said.

  * * *

  The assembly had lasted most of the day and Andreas arrived back at the shop tired. He had decided they would close early and go home.

  Seb was not at his bench and his work was unfinished. It was unlike Seb to leave it like that and Andreas felt a chill of fear. He checked the pouch under Seb’s workbench and then hastened to the small area outside the back of the shop where Seb had hidden his pack. Andreas had understood Seb’s need for privacy and had never mentioned the hiding places. He had simply noted they were there.

  Seb’s belongings were intact but Seb was nowhere to be seen. Andreas checked the street. He reminded himself Kleitos had placed Seb in his care, under his protection‌—‌in truth, he had been well paid for the task. But now Andreas feared for Seb as he would for a son. He berated himself for his carelessness.

  Now Seb was missing. After searching nearby streets Andreas decided to contact Kleitos as arranged. He walked quickly to the corner shop where earthenware water containers and pots were displayed in untidy groups close to the street. He wrinkled his nose in distaste as he went inside. Leontios kept pigeons at the back of the shop despite objections from nearby stallholders, and one or two of the birds were allowed to wander the shop. Andreas wondered how Leontios managed to sell anything. Nevertheless, he was relieved to see him working at the wheel inside.

  Andreas didn’t waste time. “Sebastian is missing. Have you seen him?”

  The old man regarded him through failing eyes. “Andreas, have you not heard the news?”

  “What news?”

  “Not two hours ago the magistrate Nikodemos was murdered in the marketplace. Such a crowd! And such a fight! I myself saw part of it,” Leontios said. “Sebastian was there. They’re talking of prosecuting him and another boy who was involved.”

  Andreas was pale with shock. He knew Nikodemos‌—‌the man was boastful and cruel, handing down harsh punishments in his role as a magistrate. He and his friends were part of a political faction known for its corrupt practices. Andreas knew these people would be powerful enemies. How did Seb get involved in this?

  “Where is Sebastian now?” he said.

  “He disappeared not long after, with the other boy. They were carrying the poor girl with them‌—‌the slave who was beaten by Nikodemos.”

  “Leontios, I must contact Kleitos. He told me you can arrange this.” Leontios looked blank. “Kleitos brought Sebastian here, some months ago. Remember? It’s important.”

  “Of course I remember,” Leontios said mildly. “I was to pass on to him any message you had.” He gave Andreas a sharp look. “You can trust me to send it.”

  Andreas sighed, exasperated. “Tell him Sebastian is missing! Tell him I wish to talk to him.”

  Leontios nodded. “Now go,” he said. “Kleitos will contact you shortly.”

  Andreas had to be content with this.

  A young girl was waiting nervously in the shop, with a message for him: “Sebastian is well and resting the night at my mistress’s house. She said you will see him tomorrow.”

  “Who is your mistress?” asked Andreas.

  “Korinna, the wife of Zenon,” the girl stammered.

  Andreas thanked the girl, gave her a coin and sent her home. Maybe I was too hasty, he thought. Kleitos might react by removing Sebastian from Athens‌—‌the worst that could happen. He corrected himself firmly. No, the worst that could happen is if Sebastian were to be found responsible for Nikodemos’s death. He would be banished for such a crime‌—‌even, as a slave, put to death. Andreas knew that Seb would not have killed Nikodemos without justification, but while he believed in the Athenian justice system, he decided Seb would be safer away from Athens after all.

  Too late now, anyway. He scarcely had time to think further on the events of the day before he heard someone enter and turned to face Kleitos.

  Andreas was astonished. How could Kleitos have got here so soon? Surely he could not live so close to the shop? Andreas knew all the locals and Kleitos was not one of them.

  He said quickly, “Sebastian is in trouble.”

  “I know what happened and where he is,” Kleitos replied. “The time is not right for him to leave Athens. Sebastian will have to deal with this himself.”

  Andreas tried to hide his conflicting feelings. Seb was to remain here, but face prosecution and possible banishment or death. The important thing now was to know how he, Andreas, could help him. He was surprised to find himself confiding in Kleitos. “I have no son, Sebastian is like a son to me,” he said.

  “Sebastian will find his own way, Andreas. When he has to leave, you’ll know it. But not today, not now. Trust me in this. Conflict makes men of boys.”

  Andreas hesitated. The words came out unchecked. “Why is he here?”

  “Sebastian himself does not yet know the reason. Maybe when he does he will tell you. But for now he needs protection from those who wish him harm. He may need to spend time away from the shop, but I’m sure you were prepared for that. You will continue to be well rewarded.”

  Andreas frowned and shook his head. “I’m not interested in the money,” he said, “I’m concerned for Sebastian. Take your money back.”

  Kleitos smiled. “Sebastian appears to have won your loyalty. One day he will be glad of it.” As he turned to go, he said, “You know how to contact me.”

  * * *

  The next morning Korinna and her husband Zenon came to their son’s room. They brought figs and goat’s cheese and sat with Alexios and Seb to hear their account of the previ
ous day’s events. The death of Nikodemos had been the only topic of discussion the previous night. At the evening symposium Zenon had been informed of the situation. His manner now was serious, and his face clouded when he heard their account.

  “We must be prepared for more trouble from this,” he said, “Nikodemos was a powerful magistrate with friends in the council. His death will not go unmarked. Alexios may yet be brought before the jury court for his murder.”

  “Murder!” Alexios was astonished. “How could it be murder when he was about to kill us?”

  “Nevertheless, his family can choose to prosecute a case against one or both of you,” Zenon said, “more likely Alexios, since he dealt the final blow. If this happens we need to find an orator to speak in your defence. I’m confident we can gain an acquittal with testimony from Melitta and from you, Sebastian, if we’re sufficiently prepared.” He frowned. “We can be sure the prosecution will be well prepared.”

  After his parents left, Alexios turned to Seb. “My father will help us. He knows good people.”

  Seb heard the uncertainty in his voice. “We were right to do as we did,” he said. “Melitta would have been killed if we hadn’t stopped him. Remember that, if we’re wrongly accused.” He prepared to leave. “Andreas will be waiting to see me. We’ll meet again in a few days.”

  Alexios watched him go. Out of all this, he thought, he had found a friend, and he knew without doubt this friendship would prove important in his life.

  As Seb left the house to walk back to the shop, Korinna caught up with him and walked a short way with him along the street.

  “Thank you for saving my son’s life, Sebastian,” she said. She placed her hand on his arm, halting their progress. “Stay a moment.”

  They stood facing each other.

  “Remember to keep track of time,” Korinna said. “Don’t abandon hope. And don’t forget where you came from.”

  She turned and walked away, leaving him to consider her words.

  12

  It was a further two months after the death of Nikodemos that the case against Alexios was brought before the central jury court. The prosecution, led by Theron, a kinsman of Nikodemos, had evidently decided that a better chance of conviction was to be gained by prosecuting Alexios alone for the murder of Nikodemos.

  Zenon was silent on the undisclosed reasons for the prosecution’s decision‌—‌that they considered Sebastian an unknown foreign slave and Alexios a more important target, and that Zenon’s own status as leader of a radical reform group exposed his family to attack. Alexios was vulnerable. It was clear the prosecutors saw the case against him as an opportunity to make political gain.

  The prosecutors had hired a well-known orator, Stephanos, to present their case to the jury. According to information supplied to Zenon, they had sought out and found witnesses ready to support their version of events, either for money or favour. Zenon knew the jury would be swayed by skilful orators, and that their opponents had the means and determination to win. He summoned Seb and Alexios and the rest of their team, including Korinna and Kyros, to meetings at all hours to discuss their case.

  Over the weeks of preparation Seb absorbed all the information that came his way, becoming adept on all matters regarding the governance of the polis. His growing knowledge of different factions and their power bases, together with the strategies he proposed, gained him the attention and respect of Zenon and his friends. Many agreed Sebastian possessed unusual tactical ability and that, slave or not, he would be a key figure in the defence of Alexios.

  The defence had approached several orators in the city who, after becoming informed of the case against Alexios, turned the commission down on the basis it was too hard to defend, or from fear of reprisal. Eventually a respected orator and teacher, Dareios‌—‌himself a student when young of the great Antiphon‌—‌expressed interest in helping them. After meeting with the core defence group, Dareios offered to present their case.

  Like Zenon, most in the defence group were skilled advocates of law reform and lent authority to the defence case. Of the rest, Sebastian and Kyros were known to be slaves and therefore did not qualify for citizenship. Seb was in no doubt their inclusion was in recognition of the respect accorded them by Zenon, who daily demonstrated his belief in the emerging idea of merit as a judge of men. Seb wondered why Zenon’s achievements were unnoted in history.

  As a trusted member of Zenon’s household Kyros was considered his closest advisor. He was never far from Zenon’s side during the group’s lengthy discussions, and his words were always considered and kind. Dareios, the hired orator, proved diligent with a talent for analysing every possible course of action, his zeal sometimes causing unnecessary delays. With this in mind, Zenon decided that Sebastian would assist Dareios in finding evidence and preparing the case.

  As the weeks passed, however, it became clear that, of them all, Sebastian was the most vocal and impassioned in his defence of Alexios. As the main witness, he was crucial at every stage of planning.

  They met regularly at Zenon’s house. Each week the defence team would present their findings to Zenon and Korinna. Seb had quickly become aware that despite the absence of women in public debate, in private groups they played influential roles in the practice of government. Korinna’s reasoning was astute, but sometimes her reserve failed her and she would excuse herself from further discussions regarding the trial her son was about to endure.

  Alexios, still at classes until he joined the military, was present at the meetings only to receive instructions in his address to the jury. At these times he looked to Seb for guidance, and would agree to a strategy only with his approval.

  The time leading up to the trial passed rapidly. With growing interest in the case evident on the streets and in symposia, Andreas had accepted Seb’s comings and goings from the shop and from his home as necessary to the success of Alexios’s case. He had noted with pride and interest the change in Seb. Kleitos was right‌—‌Seb was no longer a boy and had lately taken on the responsibilities of a man.

  On Seb’s part, there were moments he felt almost fearful at the extent of his involvement in the life and society of his adopted timespace, and he longed to be back home. Some of his memories had faded to pale dreams in the night and he would wake to hold them in his mind before they were gone. But these thoughts did not occupy him for long. He was concerned with the upcoming trial, and it was the privilege of living in Athens during eventful times that sustained him.

  * * *

  The law court was located in the agora, the civic centre of Athens. As Seb entered the building with Alexios and his defence team, he was astonished at the size of the courthouse and the assembled jury panel.

  Hundreds of Athenian citizens‌—‌men over the age of thirty, selected by lot to be members of the jury‌—‌were gathered for the trial. They sat on benches facing the magistrate and court officers, the prosecutors and the defence. The rest of the space, separated from the jury benches by a rough wooden barrier, was for the public and today was filled with spectators, standing and jostling for a position with a view of the proceedings, their talk and muffled laughter a constant resonance.

  It was early in the morning. The trial was expected to take most of the day. A written notice had been posted in the marketplace and already public opinion was divided as to the likely outcome.

  Seb glanced across at the prosecutors. Theron sat with the orator Stephanos, deep in discussion and occasionally conferring with others in their group. Seb turned again to his notes, and confirmed with Dareios the order of judicial procedures about to commence. The prosecution was to present its case first, followed by the case for the defence. Both sides had an allotted time‌—‌Seb estimated about three hours‌—‌measured by a klepsydra, an earthen water clock. Following the arguments, the jurors were required to vote immediately on the guilt or innocence of the defendant. Majority ruled. If found guilty, the defendant would be punished by exile, the automatic pen
alty in cases of homicide brought against Athenian citizens.

  Alexios regarded his accusers calmly. It was Theron who had called upon him at his home, as required, to inform Alexios of the charges to be brought against him and of the date of the trial. Alexios had recognised him immediately as kinsman to Nikodemos‌—‌the same confidence and swagger, the same physical strength.

  He looked at the man seated beside Theron, the orator Stephanos, small and quick with sharp features. Among those seated with them were witnesses from the crowd present on the day of Nikodemos’s death. Alexios turned to Seb to see if he had noticed them as well.

  Seb was uneasy. He too had recognised some of the witnesses seated with the prosecutors, and he was aware of the defence’s weakness in this area. They had few witnesses to call, despite approaching several citizens they knew to have witnessed the fight. All had been reluctant to testify in support of Alexios. Melitta had not fully recovered from her injuries and Seb and Kyros had both wished to spare her the ordeal of appearing in person. Women were rarely called upon to present evidence, and a slave’s evidence could be seen by the jury as doubly compromised. Seb had transcribed her statement to present to the court as a witness account, but now he felt ill-prepared. He himself planned to testify but he could hardly be considered an impartial witness.

  Theron was to open the case for the prosecution. He rose and mounted the elevated platform from where the speakers addressed the jury. The court fell silent. A herald of the court stepped forward and filled the water clock. Theron cleared his throat and started to read from prepared notes, clearly uncomfortable in the role of public speaker.