Erigone, now slipping into Hermione’s chamber, handing her a goblet; Hermione drinking, and choking, foam spattering her gentle mouth; Hermione slumping onto her dressing table, knocking over a jug of clear water.

The stones were relentless. They were now in Erigone’s chamber. They saw her meeting with an old wise man who passed her a bottle of poison. They saw her spreading the poison on the tunic. They saw her putting it into the chest in Tisamenos’s room.

That was enough.

Tisamenos, drained, released his grip on Erigone, leaving her holding hands for a moment with Orestes. He left his palm on the door, his lips moving in thanks.

Husband and wife parted.

Erigone was trembling, like a tree in the breeze. She lifted up her skirts. ‘I will go back to the kinghouse now, and I will raise the alarm. These are enemies, helped no doubt by those who hate us. What we saw was some kind of trick, some vision made by a dark wizard.’

Orestes regarded her. He said, softly, ‘I took you in. I married you. I wanted an end to all this! Our son Penthilos, he would be a sign of peace between our branches … But you killed my wife, you exiled my son …’

‘It’s mine,’ said Erigone, unexpectedly softly. Tisamenos saw that her expression had altered. Gone was the pleading innocent; now there was something harder. ‘This citadel, this kinghouse. By holy right, it’s mine. Aegisthos was king here, and I am his daughter! I did only what our family has always done.’

‘It has to stop!’ cried Orestes. ‘It’s like a slaughterhouse … Every day I battle with it …’

‘It cannot stop. Kill me, and in time Penthilos will take his revenge on Tisamenos.’

‘I will not kill you,’ said Orestes.

‘I don’t understand.’ There was a stillness, and both seemed to Tisamenos to be trapped by the weight of the past, by the horror of the present.

In a moment she had turned, and was running out of the tombs.

‘Quickly!’ Tisamenos sprang after her, and the others followed along the stony path.

‘She’ll try to raise the kinghouse against us,’ called Orestes.

They were catching up with her. Soon she was stumbling up the broad steps of the kinghouse, and into its dark, torchlit corridors.

‘Keep her from her women,’ called Orestes.

‘I know where to take her.’ Tisamenos blocked her off from the women’s quarters. She headed down the dank-smelling corridor that led to the cellars. The logic of his mind was taking over, pushing them onwards towards the only possible ending. His kinship with the kinghouse now felt total, as if it was inside him, as if he was also at the same time the house itself, leading Erigone on and on.