Akenon had the impression that something sad was running through the master’s mind, and it had something to do with Ariadne. He repressed the urge to ask more questions about her, and Pythagoras continued talking.
“Damo is two years younger than Ariadne. She has always been extremely obedient and disciplined, as well as brilliant. You could say, that together with my wife, Theano, she’s in charge of the female contingent of the community. Theano is an excellent mathematician and has great healing powers, and Damo is making swift progress with her in both areas. I’d say she could end up surpassing her mother. She has already achieved great things for someone her age.”
“Thelauges is my only male child. He’s just twenty-seven, but for some months now he has been in charge of the small community in Catania. I had great hopes for him when I sent him to Catania, and he has never let me down. That said, in spite of his undeniable progress, he lacks too much experience to be considered a candidate to my succession.”
Akenon raised an eyebrow inquisitively. It was the first reference Pythagoras had made to his succession.
The master didn’t clarify the point. He was planning on addressing that later.
“I take it for granted,” he continued with sudden good humor, “that you’ve heard of my legendary son-in-law, Milo.”
Akenon frowned when he heard that Pythagoras had a son-in-law.
Who is married to Milo: Damo o Ariadne?
CHAPTER 14
April 18 th , 510 B.C.
Glaucus’ eyes were wide open, as if in permanent surprise, but those around him were aware he couldn’t see them.
Two days earlier, after ordering Yaco to be punished for his betrayal, the Sybarite had drunk the potion Akenon had given him and fallen into a deep sleep. The following morning, a secretary called Parthenius found him asleep on a triclinium in the banquet hall. He closed the doors to the hall and gave instructions that Glaucus was not to be disturbed. However, several hours later, realizing uneasily that his master wasn’t waking, he had ordered some slaves to transfer him to his bed in his private chamber.
There he had remained for a day and a half without leaving his bed.
The first afternoon, when Parthenius had discovered his master was beginning to show signs of fever, he ordered a sacrifice at the Temple of Asclepius, the god of medicine. The sacrifice had been splendid, but the god hadn’t been moved to help Glaucus, and the fever continued to rise.
Parthenius observed his master and shook his head, demoralized.
What more can we do?
Next to the bed were two slaves who kept their master’s forehead covered with cold cloths. They also moistened his lips with an herbal infusion Asclepius’ priest had given them.
Suddenly, Glaucus sat up in bed, dripping perspiration, his gaze fixed on images only he could see. He stretched out his plump arms and opened his hands as if trying to catch something that was almost close enough to reach with the tips of his fingers.
“Yaco, Yaco, Yaco…!” His cries were heartrending.
Parthenius looked at his master, his face tense.
By Zeus and Heracles, he’s going to start with this again .
He turned and hurriedly left the room. It was too much to bear. Every few minutes, Glaucus would begin to shout his lover’s name until he collapsed once more, spent.
Parthenius passed the altar of Hestia and crossed the courtyard toward the main doors. There, he met the chief of the palace guards, a stern and efficient man.
“Any news?” grunted Parthenius.
“We’ve just finished questioning everyone. A slave girl claims she saw the Egyptian investigator enter the banquet hall when the only person left there was our lord Glaucus.” The chief guard looked at Parthenius more deliberately. “She says he was carrying a goblet, swirling its contents.”
A horrific thought suddenly struck Parthenius.
Our lord has been poisoned!
“By the gods!” he exclaimed angrily. “We have