Reaching the bustling agora, filled with folk dressed in a multitude of styles and colors, Chloe weaved through the throng, crossing to the far side to climb the marble steps that led to the lyceum. As befit a place where laws were made and trials conducted, a stern bronze statue of Aldus, the god of justice, stood tall and imposing outside. The god wore a long robe and carried two tablets in his arms. He appeared to be looking at the writing on the tablets but they were arranged so that only he could read what was inscribed.

The lyceum was the largest structure in Phalesia. A long building with an entrance in the shape of a horseshoe, it had no walls and essentially consisted of row after row of columns holding up the high triangular roof. In the center was a rectangular gallery, sunken into the floor in a series of tiers. The consuls sat on the lowest tier and the city’s citizens seated themselves on the tiers above. Only one man was allowed to speak at a time from the central floor. No women were allowed to participate.

This was the first proper Assembly since the week-old wrath of the gods, and there were men on every level of the gallery, all facing the consul who was speaking, so that Chloe was able to reach the back of the crowd without anyone noticing her.

The crisp voice of round-faced Consul Nilus filled the air. As she stood on her toes to look, Chloe saw him turning at regular intervals to address all present.

‘That the gods are angry there is no doubt,’ he said in a voice designed to fill the lyceum. ‘We must make offerings to all. Perhaps it is time to visit the Oracle at Athos, for we need to shed light on what we have done to bring such wrath down upon our city.’

Another consul, a heavyset old man with a gray beard, stood and waited impatiently to speak. Chloe recognized him as Consul Harod; her father said he was a troublemaker.

‘I yield the floor to Consul Harod,’ said Nilus, nodding at his colleague.

Harod moved to the middle of the floor, while Nilus seated himself on the lowest tier, gathering the folds of his white tunic in his lap.

‘Offerings are not enough,’ Harod’s voice boomed. ‘The gods have shown their displeasure. We cannot simply appease them. We must do more.’

A chorus of assent greeted his words. Chloe frowned. She had an idea what was coming next.

‘The cause is clear,’ Harod said, his full beard wagging as he nodded sagely, eyes roving over the gathered assemblage. ‘The gods are angry because we have allowed eldren into our city.’

This time the voices of agreement were forceful. Harod waved for calm before he continued.