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Chapters (62)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Page
  3. Dedication
  4. CONTENTS
  5. MAP
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. 16
  22. 17
  23. 18
  24. 19
  25. 20
  26. 21
  27. 22
  28. 23
  29. 24
  30. 25
  31. 26
  32. 27
  33. 28
  34. 29
  35. 30
  36. 31
  37. 32
  38. 33
  39. 34
  40. 35
  41. 36
  42. 37
  43. 38
  44. 39
  45. 40
  46. 41
  47. 42
  48. 43
  49. 44
  50. 45
  51. 46
  52. 47
  53. 48
  54. 49
  55. 50
  56. 51
  57. 52
  58. 53
  59. 54
  60. 55
  61. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  62. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

For some reason Sophia looked as if she was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. But then she suddenly hugged Dion, her head buried in his chest, before pushing herself away.

‘I’d best be going,’ she said. ‘I’m happy for you.’

21

21

Nilus, first consul of Phalesia, was at his villa, hosting his closest allies. The loftiest in the city, Nilus’s residence crowned a hill close to the agora, and the view from the terrace was unrivaled among all the homes in the city. His home was elegant and understated, with two stories – one for the lord and his family and a downstairs level for the servants – and flowering plants framing both sides of the winding path that led to the streets below. It had significance in the minds of the people he ruled.

He’d always loved this villa . . . had desired it for himself. He’d spent many evenings here as a guest before it finally became his.

It had once belonged to Aristocles. But Aristocles was dead, and now Nilus occupied his home.

A plump, round-faced man, he had a short crop of neatly trimmed gray hair on his crown and wore a white tunic and a belt that matched his heavy gold necklace. He knew he was supposed to be slimming down, and he also knew that after his guests left, his wife would be nagging him, but he was anxious, and when he was anxious he ate and drank compulsively.

‘Slow down, First Consul,’ Consul Harod said. A big man with a gray beard, he reached out and tapped the side of the goblet in Nilus’s hand.

Nilus scowled at him and tilted the cup back, taking a large swallow of sweet Sarsican red wine.

‘Lord Harod has a point. The people do like a good-looking candidate,’ Consul Anneas said. A haughty, athletic lord with fair hair who claimed that exercise sharpened the mind, he raised an eyebrow.

Consul Leon, a shorter and plumper man even than Nilus, pulled his seat forward. ‘Ignore them, First Consul. Life is to be lived.’ He picked up a bunch of grapes and lifted them high, biting them off the stem one by one.

The pleasure Nilus usually felt at hearing his title on other men’s lips was tainted by the guilty secret he shared with these men. By habit, he glanced at the doorway, checking to see that his guards were posted and at attention. Two on the inside. Two on the terrace. A further pair at the bottom of the steps.

Nilus turned to glare at Anneas. ‘I don’t think I’m going to be making any sudden changes in my weight in time for the election.’

Anneas shrugged. ‘It is never too late to start.’