“Yes,” she said, biting her lip. “But as he hates me just as much as he hates you, I can’t imagine it doing much good.”

At sunset Arete insisted everyone leave me to rest before the competition, and she and the boys and I walked off up the beach. She had brought food from the city, roast lamb with herbs and colored eggs for Easter, but wise Neleus had brought dried meat and raisins from the ship which he shared with me. I had brought a jar of wine. We built a fire of driftwood and sat down by it

“You’re not accepting their hospitality, then?” Arete said. “I thought not.”

“They’ll forget the name Lucia,” I said. “This place was called Mithymna.” The sun was sliding into the sea before us, lighting the clouds a thousand shades of red and violet and gold. I looked along the curve of the hill where the moon, two days past full, was due to rise. I opened the wine and took a sip. Neat, it was as sweet as honey, and as strong. I handed it to Kallikles, who was on my right.

Arete looked sideways at Neleus. “I can tell when people are telling the truth,” she said.

Kallikles and Phaedrus looked interested. Neleus grunted, taking the wine. “Useful ability,” I said, carefully.

“Kebes thought he might well win,” she said.

“I noticed that,” I said. “Interesting, isn’t it? He was never known for his musical ability. But he didn’t act as if he was committing suicide, and the Lucians in the crowd didn’t act that way either. He said he had a new instrument. I wonder what it is?”

“What happens if he wins?” Neleus asked, passing the wine on to Phaedrus.

“He kills me, then he’ll get a real surprise when I kill him immediately afterward.” I smiled. I almost wanted it to happen. It would make everything so much simpler.

“Isn’t that cheating?” Kallikles asked.

“He raped Mother!” Neleus said.

“Right, not cheating,” Kallikles said.

“What will you do to him if you win?” Arete said. She was holding the wine jar, but she didn’t drink. Plato said nobody under the age of thirty should drink unmixed wine.

“I’ll cut his throat. Get it over with as fast as possible.”

“Why would he suggest this?” Phaedrus asked. “The winner doing what they want?”

“I expect he wants to torture me to death,” I said.

To my surprise, they were all shocked.

“Kebes hates me,” I explained. “He always has. It’s partly because Simmea loved me, and partly because he hates excellence.” I knew this was right. Simmea had explained it to me.

“How can anyone hate excellence?” Arete asked.

“Ah, you didn’t realize quite what a wound your name was to him?”

“I did, but I thought that was because of Mother choosing it, choosing you and the City and excellence over him and his choices.”