held her wrists tightly.
“What my lord?”
“To get a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow morning do two things: hunt down the Oracle and find a way for me to secure that bloody
Crown!”
CHAPTER 6
M IRIAM RETURNED TO the citadel just after dawn, ruefully realizing she had broken Alexander’s first request because her sleep had been plagued
by dreams and nightmares. It was a cold gray morning, and a mist had seeped in over the charred remains of Thebes, reminding
Miriam of some image of Hades with the black and twisted timbers, the ankle-deep ash, the occasional smoldering fire. She
found some of the soldiers had drifted back to the citadel, and drew some comfort from their presence. She had to kick her
heels while a servant went looking for Memnon’s five principal officers. Cleon was the first to arrive, bright-eyed and clean-shaven.
He insisted that Miriam join him for breakfast. He took her to the mess hall and brought out two dishes of fragrantly smelling
meat and some rather stale bread, for which he wryly apologized, and a jug of beer.
“It’s Theban,” he declared, “but it tastes fresh and tangy. Best thing to clean the mouth in the morning.” He sat on a bench
opposite and offered Miriam a napkin. The meat washot to the touch. Miriam had to blow on it as well take hasty sips of beer.
“You are a good cook,” she teased. “You’ll make someone a wonderful husband.”
“Captain Memnon was a stickler,” Cleon replied between mouthfuls. “He said he had starved enough during sieges and had eaten
his fill of army rations. So, in a place like this, he would demand all the luxuries.”
“Was he a good officer?” Miriam asked.
“Excellent. Loyal, brave. A kindly man, I never saw him hit anyone. Oh, he could curse and he’d rant, but unlike his dog,”
Cleon grinned, “his bark was infinitely worse than his bite!”
“Did he know that Alexander was marching on Thebes?”
“Yes, we all did,” Cleon replied. “Shortly before Memnon was found at the foot of the tower.”
“And Memnon was happy with this news?”
“He said he had it on good report, though he was still worried that Alexander had been killed. He was also terrified that
the Thebans might suddenly launch a surprise attack and take the citadel before the Macedonian army arrived.”
“And that was possible?” Miriam asked.
“Yes certainly! If the spy among us had opened the gates, we would have been massacred.”
“And why didn’t that happen?”
Cleon narrowed his eyes and wiped his fingers on the napkin.
“To have achieved that the Thebans would have had to mass behind the palisade. Our guards would have seen them.”
“Was there a guard at the top of the tower when Memnon died?”
“No.” Cleon shook his head. “It’s far too high; it only serves as a lookout post during the day. Our sentries were on the
ramparts along the curtain wall.”
“I am sorry for my interruptions,” Miriam apologized. “You were talking about a sudden attack.”
“The Thebans would have had to mass,” Cleon declared. “And that would have become apparent. The spy or traitor, whoever it
was, would have had to open a gate. Now, the citadel has two gates, the main one you came through this morning and a small
postern door.”
“And both were closely guarded?”
“Oh, yes. Footmen in full armor, archers; the garrison was on full alert. If the Thebans had broken in they would have shown
no mercy.” He cleaned the bowl with a piece of bread and popped the bread into his mouth. “And don’t forget that the spy or
traitor would have been worried. If the Thebans had broken in they wouldn’t have known friend from foe; he might have been
killed along with the rest.”
“And Memnon’s state of mind?” she asked.
“He was very anxious, worried.” Cleon’s voice dropped to a whisper. “He really did believe the spy was one of his officers.”
“Not you?” Miriam asked.
“The Thebans
“What my lord?”
“To get a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow morning do two things: hunt down the Oracle and find a way for me to secure that bloody
Crown!”
CHAPTER 6
M IRIAM RETURNED TO the citadel just after dawn, ruefully realizing she had broken Alexander’s first request because her sleep had been plagued
by dreams and nightmares. It was a cold gray morning, and a mist had seeped in over the charred remains of Thebes, reminding
Miriam of some image of Hades with the black and twisted timbers, the ankle-deep ash, the occasional smoldering fire. She
found some of the soldiers had drifted back to the citadel, and drew some comfort from their presence. She had to kick her
heels while a servant went looking for Memnon’s five principal officers. Cleon was the first to arrive, bright-eyed and clean-shaven.
He insisted that Miriam join him for breakfast. He took her to the mess hall and brought out two dishes of fragrantly smelling
meat and some rather stale bread, for which he wryly apologized, and a jug of beer.
“It’s Theban,” he declared, “but it tastes fresh and tangy. Best thing to clean the mouth in the morning.” He sat on a bench
opposite and offered Miriam a napkin. The meat washot to the touch. Miriam had to blow on it as well take hasty sips of beer.
“You are a good cook,” she teased. “You’ll make someone a wonderful husband.”
“Captain Memnon was a stickler,” Cleon replied between mouthfuls. “He said he had starved enough during sieges and had eaten
his fill of army rations. So, in a place like this, he would demand all the luxuries.”
“Was he a good officer?” Miriam asked.
“Excellent. Loyal, brave. A kindly man, I never saw him hit anyone. Oh, he could curse and he’d rant, but unlike his dog,”
Cleon grinned, “his bark was infinitely worse than his bite!”
“Did he know that Alexander was marching on Thebes?”
“Yes, we all did,” Cleon replied. “Shortly before Memnon was found at the foot of the tower.”
“And Memnon was happy with this news?”
“He said he had it on good report, though he was still worried that Alexander had been killed. He was also terrified that
the Thebans might suddenly launch a surprise attack and take the citadel before the Macedonian army arrived.”
“And that was possible?” Miriam asked.
“Yes certainly! If the spy among us had opened the gates, we would have been massacred.”
“And why didn’t that happen?”
Cleon narrowed his eyes and wiped his fingers on the napkin.
“To have achieved that the Thebans would have had to mass behind the palisade. Our guards would have seen them.”
“Was there a guard at the top of the tower when Memnon died?”
“No.” Cleon shook his head. “It’s far too high; it only serves as a lookout post during the day. Our sentries were on the
ramparts along the curtain wall.”
“I am sorry for my interruptions,” Miriam apologized. “You were talking about a sudden attack.”
“The Thebans would have had to mass,” Cleon declared. “And that would have become apparent. The spy or traitor, whoever it
was, would have had to open a gate. Now, the citadel has two gates, the main one you came through this morning and a small
postern door.”
“And both were closely guarded?”
“Oh, yes. Footmen in full armor, archers; the garrison was on full alert. If the Thebans had broken in they would have shown
no mercy.” He cleaned the bowl with a piece of bread and popped the bread into his mouth. “And don’t forget that the spy or
traitor would have been worried. If the Thebans had broken in they wouldn’t have known friend from foe; he might have been
killed along with the rest.”
“And Memnon’s state of mind?” she asked.
“He was very anxious, worried.” Cleon’s voice dropped to a whisper. “He really did believe the spy was one of his officers.”
“Not you?” Miriam asked.
“The Thebans
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