“The problem is that it’s a subtle complex thing and hard to explain,” she said to me as we sailed toward Marissa. “Matthias was in the wrong, and he started the attack. But you did destroy the Goodness, and that does destroy our civilization. And we were doing so much good.”

“The Goodness would still be safe if Matthias hadn’t attacked us,” I said. It felt strange to call Kebes by his other name.

“Indeed,” she agreed. “That attack was wrong and unprovoked. And you didn’t destroy the Goodness on purpose. The wind changed. It was Matthias’s fault for using a fireship and trying to destroy this ship. God punished him. But he has punished all of us for Matthias’s hubris.”

It was strange. I knew Kallikles had made the wind change. In one way that did make it unquestionably a divine action. But I was much less ready than Aristomache to see it as part of Providence, or being inherently just. To Aristomache, even though she had known Athene, the actions of the gods were something that happened on a different moral plane. To me they were not, they couldn’t be. “Kebes—Matthias—was one of your leaders,” I said.

“One of them, yes, but one among many. You saw how we didn’t all follow him.”

“I did. But he wasn’t acting alone, either.”

“The other conspirators, those who survived, were condemned to iron for ten years. I thought you heard that.” A cloud passed over the sun, and in the changed light Aristomache looked old and frail, though she was nowhere near as old as Ficino had been.

“I heard it, but I didn’t understand it.”

“They’re reduced to iron, the fourth rank,” she said.

“We have irons, but it isn’t a punishment.” The idea was very strange to me. “Do you mean that they’ll be slaves?”

Aristomache winced. “Not slaves. But the irons do all the hardest work. They mine, and do all the things nobody else wants to. Especially in the new cities it’s dangerous and difficult work.”

I thought about it. It seemed almost like slavery. And the way Kebes behaved seemed like putting pride above the good, exactly as Plato said timarchy began. Sparta had been a timarchy, valuing honor above truth. But saying this to Aristomache would hurt her without helping anything, and she was among the best of the Lucians. I was glad she was coming to the City with us as one of the envoys, and glad that Auge was another—though poor Auge was seasick, even in these calm breezes.

We set people down and picked up more envoys at all eight Lucian cities. I wasn’t allowed ashore anywhere, though I sometimes had a chance to swim. Maecenas wasn’t taking any more risks with the ship.