Chapter 10
Ledgers and Liars
The blast of horns vibrated through Danae’s teeth. They must be nearing Athens. Thank the gods. After several cramped hours, she longed to stretch her legs and be free of her cage of stinking cheeses.
The ship shuddered as it jarred against something hard. Then the vessel dipped as someone climbed ashore. She heard the merchant instructing his son to unload the stock. Her pulse quickened. Any moment now.
The tarpaulin shivered. Then it was peeled away, and she rushed to push upward, her elbows sinking into cheese as she pulled herself onto the side of the ship.
The merchant’s boy stared at her like she was a creature from the deep.
Her legs screamed in protest, but she seized the moment and sprang.
The boy lurched out of her way and toppled into the sea as she leaped from the boat, onto the jetty.
For a heart-stopping moment she thought her legs would give way, then she stumbled forward, sprinting as fast as her tingling body would allow.
“Stop!” The merchant wheeled around. “Stowaway! Stop her!”
The harbor was vast, at least five times the size of Naxos Port.
She barely had time to take it in as ships blurred past her.
The vessels on either side of the wide jetty were so tall, it felt as though she were running down an avenue of giant, leafless trees.
The great painted hulls were punctuated with three layers of oar holes, like hundreds of eyes, watching as she whipped past.
She dodged around merchants unloading their wares, skirting crates of silks and barrels of olives, amphorae of scented oils and packs of smoked meats.
The ships and their merchants all brought with them the scent of their homes, and the air was so overladen with different aromas she could barely smell the sea.
People, so many people, talking, shouting, more people than she’d ever seen in her life.
A dash of blue caught her eye. She glanced to the left and saw a fleet of warships gliding into the harbor.
They were magnificent—enough to momentarily arrest the fear pumping through her limbs.
They moved as one, their prows curved like swan necks, and their uniform cerulean sails were emblazoned with the royal crest of Athens, the twelve-pointed sun.
Thanks to those visits from Philemon she knew a great deal about the city she’d never seen.
She tore her eyes from the ships a moment too late, and crashed headlong into someone standing at the entrance to the jetty.
“Watch it,” the man growled and wrinkled his nose at the lingering smell of cheese.
“Guard, stop her!”
Danae glanced back and saw the puce-faced merchant pursuing her down the gangway. She tried to lunge past the guard, but he was quicker and grabbed her by the arm. The harder she struggled, the tighter his grip became.
The merchant finally caught up to them and slumped against a pile of crates, wiping the sweat from his brow.
“That girl,” he panted, “is a stowaway. And she’s ruined half my stock!”
The guard looked down at Danae as though she were a mosquito that had just bitten him.
“I see. You’d best follow me.”
The merchant drew himself up. “I hope this won’t take long. I should be in Athens already.”
“Aren’t we in Athens now?” asked Danae.
Both men laughed.
“She’s soft, this one.” The guard continued slowly, “This is Port Phalerum. Athens is six leagues that way.” He pointed east. “Not that you’ll be going anywhere near it.”
She twisted, trying to squirm out of his grip, but the guard was as strong as a bull. He yanked her arm up behind her back, and pain spiked through her shoulder.
“Where are you taking me?” she gasped.
The guard pulled her away without an answer.
In front of the jetty was a bustling road.
Carts and riders on horseback hurtled past in both directions.
The guard dragged Danae with him, holding up a large hand to halt the traffic as they crossed the road.
She looked around wildly, searching for someone, anyone who might help her.
But the passers-by averted their eyes, as though it was a common sight to see a young woman being hauled through the street.
Once they reached the other side, she was marched up the steps of a long stone building topped by terracotta tiles. Sun-bleached pillars ran along its open front in an orderly crescent, and long tables littered with scrolls and ledgers nestled behind the columns.
The guard pushed past a queue that stretched up the steps. Ignoring the disgruntled mutterings, he shoved Danae in front of a clerk, who peered at her over a precarious stack of licenses. The man was thin and almost completely bald. He reminded her of a walnut.
“Graeculus, we’ve got a stowaway.”
The clerk shifted ever so slightly to glance at the growing line behind them. “I see.” His voice was as dry as his skin.
The merchant stepped forward, said the sacred greeting, then declared, “I am Memnos, a purveyor of fine cheeses from Naxos. This girl stole aboard on my ship and ruined my stock. I seek reparation.”
Graeculus sighed, returned the greeting and surveyed Danae wearily.
“It seems you owe this man for passage aboard his vessel and the cost of the stock you damaged. How will you pay?”
She gaped. “I can’t, I have no coin.”
The only item of value she had was the brooch, and she needed that to gain entrance to the oracle.
“Hmmm.” Graeculus’s fingers itched toward a scroll. “If you can’t pay then I will have to send you back to the authorities at, Naxos, was it?”
She couldn’t let them send her home, she had to get to Delphi. “I can work off the debt, I’ll do anything, please just don’t send me back.”
Graeculus’s hand paused. He met her pleading gaze, then his eyes slid down, crawling over her body. She stiffened. The clerk looked at the guard. Something unspoken passed between them.
With the scraping of wood on stone, he unfolded himself from under the desk. The merchant followed him through a doorway behind and the guard pushed Danae after them.
The room was cool and musty. It smelled of dust and parchment, and the walls were lined floor to ceiling with stacked scrolls.
“Off the record,” Graeculus said in a low voice, addressing the merchant. “You’re not going to recoup your losses. The girl evidently has nothing, and port officials bear no responsibility for stowaways.”
The merchant’s expression darkened.
“However,” Graeculus lowered his voice further. “There is a way you can make a profit from this unfortunate situation.”
Memnos’s lip curled. “Go on.”
Fear pulsed through Danae. She was very aware of how large the guard was, his hulking frame towering behind her.
“My colleague here, Elias, and I, have an arrangement. Not strictly by the book, but I’m sure a man of your business acumen will appreciate that sometimes steps need to be taken outside of what is strictly legal.”
Memnos made an open gesture with his hands.
The clerk smiled. “A healthy young girl like this would fetch an excellent price at the flesh market.”
Danae stared at Graeculus. “You can’t do that!”
Elias clamped a hand over her mouth.
“We would take our cut of course, but I’d wager she’s worth at least ten drachmas.”
Memnos folded his arms. “What exactly would that cut be?”
Blood thumped in Danae’s ears. She writhed against Elias’s grip and bit down on his palm. The guard swore but didn’t let go. He tightened his hold, his fingers digging into her cheeks.
Through the panic, she remembered something her mother told her when she and her sister were blossoming into womanhood. “Be wary of men, always go about your tasks with your sister, never alone, and if anyone lays a hand on you, kick him between the legs and run.”
Her struggles appeared to grow weaker as she feigned exhaustion. Elias loosened his grip, ever so slightly. She glanced down to gauge the position of his feet, then kicked back with all her strength. Her heel connected with something soft, and the guard let go, groaning like a wounded bear.
Quick as a minnow, she darted toward the door, pulling a flurry of scrolls off the shelves as she ran. Pulse racing, she pelted out into the sunlight. White pillars flickered past, and merchants dived out of her way as she sprinted down the row of customs desks.
Finally, she reached the end of the building and dodged around the side. She bent over, hands clutching her knees for support, sucking breath into her aching lungs. Glancing back, she was relieved to see she was alone.
She straightened up, then a fist collided with the side of her head.