Tisamenos watched as she poured him a goblet of wine and added water to it. She pushed the heavy gold goblet towards him. It was carved, he noted, with the image of a lion. She was using his father’s emblem as if it were hers. He grasped it by the stem and brought it to his lips, taking as small a sip as he dared so as not to get drunk. Then he set it down again.

‘I heard you visited Electra,’ she said, quietly. She was smiling, her eyes lit up. But Tisamenos could hear the ice in her voice.

‘Yes, of course – I always visit her.’ The lie came to him surprisingly easily.

‘A fine thing, to be so close to one’s relatives.’

Tisamenos realised she must have a spy among Electra’s women. He’d been stupid. He should have known. Did that mean she knew that they had been talking about revenge? Did she know what was in his heart? Now he must act the innocent, maybe even pretend to be on her side. He wondered how long it would be before she made her move.

Orestes was slapping his good leg, as a bard had appeared and was singing about the great deeds of his father Agamemnon at Troy.

The wide-ruling king, beloved by all

Set sail with a thousand black ships

To rescue fair Helen, the bride of his brother,

Whom weak-hearted Paris had stolen …

‘Have you thought about being king?’ Erigone was speaking softly, twisting her fingers in her hair.

Tisamenos remained mute. Act dumb. That was the way.

‘Things don’t always turn out as you’d expect,’ said Erigone. ‘My father was king here, you know. For a while. Whilst your grandfather sat on his haunches on the shores of Troy.’ She was silent, and there was no mistaking the look in her eyes now. It was calculating, cool, the words a veiled threat.

She clearly suspected that he knew about Hermione, and fixed him with her gaze. It was penetrating.

He did his best to appear completely innocent, and looked away first.

Then she clapped her hands.

‘Sing the song of Cassandra!’

The bard faltered.

‘Bard!’

He began again, singing of how she was dragged from the steps of her altar and taken as a slave by Agamemnon. A frown passed across Orestes’s face.

Tisamenos immediately looked about to see if Hero was there – and she was, in the corner, half in shadow, watching. Her own mother, sung about in the halls of her enemy. But Hero made no sign of annoyance, or even of recognition, and simply folded her arms.

Tisamenos knew what she was capable of now, what the Swallows could do, what their magic could do. He wanted to go and talk to her, to find out more, but couldn’t let Erigone see him do so.