Roma Victrix by Russell Whitfield Page A

up.’
    Lysandra frowned. ‘That is strange,’ she observed. ‘My Deiopolis is vastly profitable. Though we are quite far from the city, many of the Hellenes travel to worship there. I imagine part of it is because of my fame, and you have to admit that the Deiopolis has much more to offer than any of the inner-city places of worship, including this one. People tend to make a holiday of their trip there and duly their expenditure goes up.’ She was pleased to be able to inform the Athenian of the economics. Evidently, he had much to learn.
    â€˜I’m sure it must be wonderful not having to worry about money.’
    â€˜Yes, it is,’ agreed Lysandra. ‘Of course, Spartans do not placemuch value on material things but I will admit that not having those concerns is certainly an advantage.’
    Telemachus set his cup down rather too hard on the table and rose to his feet. ‘Excuse me, Lysandra,’ his voice was taut with petulance. ‘I will return presently.’ Without another word, he stalked off, leaving the room and almost slamming the door behind him; she noted that he stopped at the last instant and shut it gently. His inexplicable tantrum had her at a loss and, she conceded to herself, it had hurt her feelings. It was most inconsiderate of him to act in such a way when she was trying to heal herself both mentally and physically. Lysandra eyed the wine krater for a moment, and the all-too-familiar fire ignited in her mind. She squeezed her eyes tight shut and willed the urge to drink it away.
    Perhaps she should go to him. Athenians were well known to be sensitive souls – it came from too much philosophising and debate or, more accurately, navel-gazing as she saw it. Yet despite his unreasonable behaviour, Telemachus was her friend and she decided that she should be the bigger person and see what was wrong with him.
    She found him outside in the temple’s modest courtyard. He was sitting on a stone bench, bent low, his forearms resting on knees.
    â€˜What is the matter with you?’ she asked. ‘We were having a perfectly civil conversation and you storm out in the middle of it.’
    â€˜By the Goddess!’ he shouted, rising to his feet with startling speed. Despite herself, Lysandra took a step back. ‘Lysandra, I love you like my own sister but the world does not only revolve around you!’ She opened her mouth to respond but he pressed on before she could speak. ‘I have my own problems, and now you and yours to add to them. We are supposed to be friends, yet all you do is take. When you were younger, I could understand it. But time it seems has not changed you. Your arrogance I can understand and forgive, but your selfishness is something else again!’
    Lysandra felt the binds that held her temper in check snap. ‘I am selfish?’ she screeched. ‘ I ? Lysandra, who builds a temple to honour all the gods, Lysandra, who raised the self-esteem of all Hellenes in this province by spilling her blood on the sands, Lysandra, who brought great riches to this temple. Your temple. Your friendship to me – so-called – was bought by Lucius Balbus and you call me selfish. How dare you! How dare you !’
    â€˜Riches!’ Telemachus took a step towards her, eyes blazing in fury. ‘Aye, your fleeting fame and time here turned a profit. And now look at the place. Look at it!’ He threw his arms wide to encompass his shabby domain. ‘It’s in ruins!’
    â€˜I told you before and back then it was in jest, but it was also true. You Athenians are effete snobs, and there is nothing but rhetoric in your so-called lessons from the goddess,’ she hissed. ‘It is no wonder your coffers are bare, as they were before my ill-fortune came to your rescue all those years ago. The fact is, Telemachus, that you are not a very good priest.’
    The retort of the slap was whip-loud in the small courtyard. She