Free Legacy of Blood by Michael Ford Page A

living”.’
    â€˜She sounds like a good woman,’ said Lysander as they set off again. He couldn’t be sure, but he felt that Chilonis had tried to help his tortured heart in the only small way she could. By sharing experiences.
    They reached Agion late in the afternoon. It was little more than a collection of fishing boats and small houses clustered by the water. The sun, dipping to the west, cast a trail of golden fire over the water. One man was unpacking the tackle from his boat on a narrow jetty.
    â€˜We need to get over to Delphi,’ said Chilonis. ‘Can you take us?’
    â€˜Not I,’ said the man. ‘It’s late for setting out now. You’d be best to wait for morning.’
    â€˜Is there no one who might cross this evening?’ Lysander pressed. Now he was so close, he didn’t want to wait to speak to the Oracle.
    The man stroked his beard. ‘There’s old Ankises,’ he said. ‘He knows these waters well. Lives in a hut four or five stadia up the shore. Try there.’
    Chilonis thanked the man and they followed his directions.
    â€˜Slow down,’ said Chilonis, as Lysander marched off along the shoreline path. ‘If he’s in, he’s not going anywhere.’
    Ankises’ cottage came into sight. Lysander ran up to the door and pounded it with his fist. There was no sound of movement within. Lysander hammered again, and the door creaked open to reveal a tall, lean man who looked older than anyone Lysander had ever seen. Deep wrinkles were carved into his cheeks and forehead, and his big hands were knotted like the roots of a tree.
    â€˜Yes?’ he said.
    â€˜We were told you might be able to take us across to Delphi,’ said Lysander. ‘Tonight.’
    â€˜Tonight’s a night for staying indoors by the fire,’ said Ankises.
    â€˜We have money,’ said Lysander, pulling his coins from the pouch.
    The door shut in his face.
    â€˜Charming,’ said Chilonis. ‘Come on, let’s head back to Agion.’ They turned to leave.
    â€˜Where are you going?’ asked a voice. Lysander glanced over his shoulder. The old man was stood beside the hut, dressed in a hooded cloak. ‘You can tieyour horse up behind the house. I’ll feed him on my return.’
    Lysander smiled at Chilonis, who led Hector to the rear of Ankises’ hut.
    They followed the old man down to the water, where a small rowing boat was moored. Ankises climbed in, surprisingly agile for such an elderly man.
    â€˜Come on then,’ he muttered. ‘The sooner you get there, the sooner the Oracle can give you a confusing and costly answer.’ He laughed.
    Chilonis climbed aboard, and Lysander unlooped the boat’s tether from its post on the shore. As he settled beside her on the wooden plank that served as a seat, he began to doubt his mission. If the Oracle didn’t give him an answer he could understand, would he ever find peace within himself? Hadn’t that been his mistake before? He’d blindly trusted the prophecy on the Fire of Ares, and so far it had brought only hardship and suffering to those he loved most dearly.
    Ankises pushed the boat off with one of the oars, then pulled in long strokes away from the shore.
    It was the middle of the night when they reached the far shore, and Lysander paid Ankises his fee. As they stepped off the boat, the old man began rowing back towards his home.
    â€˜Don’t you need to rest?’ called out Chilonis.
    Ankises laughed. ‘I’m eighty-eight years old. Soon I’ll have a very long rest indeed.’
    Lysander watched as the oarsman was swallowed up by the darkness. Then he turned inland.
    Is this where I’ll find my life again?
he wondered.
If the Gods are here, will they guide me?
    Most of the small hamlet was asleep. The only sound above the lapping of the waves on the shore was the whirr of the cicadas, trilling out their midnight