“Joy to you,” he said, glancing at me then focusing on Thetis, naturally. He was naked, apart from the hat and the sandals. It was usual to exercise naked, though most of the palaestras had been enclosed and heated a long time ago. (The few that hadn’t were only popular in the middle of summer.) Being naked in the street was unusual though, and what was especially odd was the way he seemed comfortable naked outdoors on a chilly evening. He was out of context, and not only in that way. We had gods, of course. Half Thetis’s family were gods, as she’d said. But Hermes was different. We worshipped him! And he hadn’t grown up here. All of this went through my mind while he was still greeting us, and then as Thetis started to speak and introduce us I thought that there were ways he was more like an alien, and maybe that was a useful way to think about him. He spoke Greek; well, so did the Saeli, that didn’t mean they really understood us. He was a Greek-speaking visitor from another culture, like they were.

“Joy to you,” Thetis said. “I am Thetis of the Hall of Florentia and the Tribe of Apollo, Iron of the Just City. This is Jason, Silver of the Just City. And you, no doubt, are Hermes the son of Zeus?”

“The tribe of Apollo?” Hermes echoed, smiling. “Is there a tribe of Hermes too? Or does that mean you’re one of my brother’s descendants?”

“Yes, Pytheas was my step-grandfather,” Thetis said, calm and self-possessed. “I suppose that makes you my step-granduncle. No, step-half-granduncle. This could get confusing.”

“Don’t call me step-granduncle, it makes me seem so much older than you!”

“When in fact you’re thousands of years older than me?” Thetis countered. He looked younger than either of us, barely more than an ephebe, perhaps twenty.

“And yes, you have a tribe too, and I belong to it,” I said, as boldly as I could. This was not the way I had imagined interacting with my patron god.

“Charming, delightful,” Hermes said, smiling and looking around at Thessaly and the other nearby sleeping houses with appreciation. He patted the trunk of an olive tree affectionately. “What a lovely place.”

6. Marsilia

6

MARSILIA