Page 11 of Sword Dance

Damiskos frowned at him.

“You agreed with me,” Helenos continued undaunted, “that no Pseuchaian should own a creature so contrary to nature. I believe the word you used was ‘repellant.’”

Damiskos carefully said nothing. Behind Helenos, Gelon was looking as if he wished he was dead. Aristokles was looking rather queasy too, come to that.

“Repellant!” Kleitos exclaimed. “That’s a polite word, especially coming from a soldier.” He laughed heartily and looked as if he would have slapped Damiskos on the shoulder if he had been standing nearer.

“What exactly are you speaking of?” Damiskos asked severely. It would be bad form—and giving up a tactical advantage—to admit he had overheard any of their conversation.

“Ah.” Kleitos took over eagerly. “Gelon here appeared this morning with a bruised face, as you can see, and when I asked him about it, he said the Boukossian’s eunuch lay in wait for him last night and launched a cowardly attack. I naturally sought out the slave’s master and laid the matter before him, but he refuses to take action—perhaps because he doesn’t believe Gelon’s word, or perhaps—”

“He shouldn’t believe it,” Damiskos interrupted, “because Gelon is lying.”

Kleitos gaped, but Damiskos thought it clear he was enjoying himself. He was obviously a busybody.

Damiskos had been told that he had no flair for the dramatic. He went on stolidly: “It may have been Aristokles’s servant who gave Gelon that bruise, but I think it more likely I did it myself. I came upon the two of them fighting last night, and it was very clear to me that Gelon was the aggressor. He ran when I took away his knife.”

Kleitos turned on Gelon. “Is this true?”

“No! I mean, I did have a knife, and I was—but I didn’t start it. He attacked me—or, anyway, I thought he was going to. I was defending myself.”

“You interrupted the eunuch in some suspicious activity, didn’t you?” Helenos prompted.

“Well, I—that is, I—we’re not going to talk about that?” It was an appeal to the older student, as if Gelon feared they were veering off some script agreed beforehand. That was interesting.

“I’m sure we can all imagine the sort of thing,” said Helenos delicately.

Kleitos shuddered. “Well, however it got started, it ended with a Sasian eunuch laying hands on a Phemian citizen, and I remain firm in my opinion that he should be whipped.”

“I feel bound to say,” said Damiskos, “that I saw nothing to support that judgement. If we were in the city and the matter were taken to law, I would testify to it.” He would also mention the fact that Varazda was apparently free, which changed the legal character of the matter considerably.

“Thank you,” said Aristokles with a pathetic dignity. “I shall consider what you have said and decide what to do with my own slave, as is my right.”

After a little more muttering and blustering, the two students and Kleitos left the dining room. Aristokles lingered as if anxious to let them get well ahead of him. He glanced back at Damiskos with a wan smile.

“Much obliged, I’m sure.”

“What are you doing pretending that Va—Pharastes—is your slave if you’ve freed him?”

“What am I … oh, well, it’s just easier. Everyone assumes, you know.”

Damiskos frowned. That didn’t make much sense. “Still, you were there last night. And surely Pharastes told you what happened. I am surprised you did not defend him more strenuously.”

“Surprised” was maybe not the right word. “Disgusted” might have been a better one.

“I—I don’t know what happened,” Aristokles protested—nervously, Damiskos thought. “I mean, Gelon’s a monomaniac, isn’t he? Perhaps he saw Pharastes outside that philosopher’s door and thought he was sneaking in for an assignation!”

This was such a strange answer that it took Damiskos a moment to absorb it.

“Was Pharastes outside Eurydemos’s door?” he said finally.

“Well, I don’t know! He might have been.”

“He’s your servant. Shouldn’t you know where he is?”

“Not all the time! I can’t keep track of him all the time!”

“I see.” Then Damiskos remembered something. “He can’t have been having an assignation with Eurydemos last night—at least not in Eurydemos’s room—because Eurydemos wasn’t in his room. I saw him in the garden, and then I met him coming in from the garden on my way back to bed.”