“Whatever she may have said later, she didn’t report it as rape at the time,” Kebes said, speaking the whole truth now. “There were procedures, if she had wanted to complain about me. You know that. Did she tell you about this, or are we taking Pytheas’s word, and his daughter’s? This was all twenty years ago.”

“But Kebes—” Klymene began.

“Matthias,” he interrupted. “That’s always been my name.”

She waved this off. “Matthias, then. This contest is insane. Pytheas—”

“We’ve agreed,” Father said. His hand was still on my shoulder. “He suggested it himself. A musical contest. What could be more civilized?”

“But the consequences—one of you is going to kill the other one!” Klymene sounded appalled.

“That’s going to happen anyway,” Father said, gently.

“I could tie you up until we’re back on Kallisti,” Klymene said, and she meant it. “You always take too much on yourself, you always put yourself forward, you think you’re the best and that gives you the right to do whatever you want, but it doesn’t. You’re not sane, Pytheas, and I can’t let you go ahead with this. It’s unjust!”

“It doesn’t involve anyone but the two of us,” Father said.

“He has always hated me, it’s not the madness of grief,” Kebes said, to the crowd. “But I have proposed this fair contest. It’s the best way. The winner to do what they want.” He seemed so sure that he could win. There was a kind of gloating in his voice.

Klymene shook her head. “We want peace and trade with your cities,” she said.

“That can happen without Pytheas or myself being involved,” Kebes said. “We can give assurances. This is a personal matter.” Then he turned to me. “You may not believe me, but your mother and I loved each other. Nobody answered my question, and I have a right to know. Do you have older brothers?”

I didn’t believe him. He wasn’t lying, he believed what he said, but it was something he had convinced himself of, not the truth. I knew my mother. “I have lots of older brothers, but none of them are your sons,” I said.

“You wouldn’t necessarily know. She said she’d give it up to philosophy,” he said, half to himself.

“Simmea didn’t have a child after that last festival,” Maia said, forcing her voice out.

Kebes nodded, looking disappointed. He looked at me again. “And what’s your name, little girl?”