‘Eudora saw a man come to you, a hunchback with a foreign accent. You ordered your house evacuated while you and this man spoke.’

‘And what of it?’ Nilus said. ‘I have many visitors.’

‘You admit seeing him.’ Chloe nodded. She made sure her next words could be heard by all. ‘My sister Sophia, who was aiding the high priestess, saw the same hunchback confirm Lord Philippos’s identity before having him killed.’ She scanned the room. ‘You all know the motive. Only with Lord Philippos dead could Nilus win the election.’

This time the cacophony was deafening. The men of Lord Philippos’s faction roared and surged forward. Chloe was suddenly surrounded by men in white tunics on all sides, almost knocking her off her feet in the sudden tide. Cries and shouts filled the chamber as fists started flying. The floor became a sea of roaring men, old and young, snarling and grabbing hold of each other, rolling and grappling on the ground while the few consuls who’d kept their heads vainly cried out for order.

Chloe whirled, looking for Nilus, but she was shoved to the side and lost her balance until one of Amos’s soldiers helped her regain her feet. She pushed through when she saw Nilus’s balding head and finally grabbed the back of the man’s tunic in desperation, but when he turned she realized he wasn’t Nilus after all. She looked for Amos, but he was busy trying to restore calm.

Finally he bellowed, ‘Order!’

He teamed up with his men and they pulled consuls apart from each other, tossing them back toward their seats until he had claimed the speaking floor.

‘Order, order! All of you, by Aldus! Take your seats!’

Accustomed to commanding men on the field, his shout was like the roar of the god of justice himself. Fully armored, he paced the center of the floor.

‘Back in your places!’

As Amos gradually restored a semblance of normality there was a new outcry around the tall, gray-bearded figure of Consul Harod. He was still seated, looking surprised, a knife protruding from his ribs. His unseeing eyes didn’t blink as crimson blood bloomed on his tunic.

Nearby, Consul Anneas, a savage mark on his temple, was being restrained by one of Amos’s men, who stood behind him with a muscled arm around his neck. Consul Leon writhed in the grip of another soldier and pointed at Anneas. ‘It was his idea!’ he yelped.

‘And Nilus? Where is Nilus?’ Amos demanded.

‘He’s gone, sir,’ one of the soldiers called back.

‘Go to his home. Search the city,’ Amos barked. ‘Find him!’

Cloaked soldiers ran from the lyceum. With the floor now empty except for Amos and Chloe, she again raised her voice. ‘Does anyone here doubt what I am saying? Nilus murdered my father to become first consul. He then had Lord Philippos killed to hold on to power.’