The Athenian Murders by José Carlos Somoza Page A

threatening her? (T.'sN.)
     

    Swathed in a long dark shawl and tunic, she had the l oose stride of a wild animal in the forest. Her bangles and bracelets jangled with every step. Just as she was about to be swallowed by the darkness, she turned and said to Diagoras: 'I didn't want to strike you.'
     

    It was late at night by the time they returned to the City, following the Long Walls.
     
    'I'm sorry you got hurt,' said Heracles, a little guiltily. The philosopher had been silent since their conversation with Yasintra. 'Are you still in pain? I did warn you . . . I've come across that type of hetaera before. They're very agile and quite capable of defending themselves. When she ran away, I knew she'd attack if we got near her.'
    He paused, expecting Diagoras to say something, but his companion walked in silence, head bowed, chin resting on his chest. They had left the lights of Piraeus behind some time ago. The great paved road (which, according to Heracles, though empty, was safer and quicker than the more commonly used route), lined by walls built by Themistocles, destroyed by Lysander only to be rebuilt again, rolled on smoothly in the dark winter's night. In the distance, to the north, the walls of Athens stood out like a dream, gleaming faintly.
    Heracles went on quickly: 'Now it's you, Diagoras, who has said nothing in a long while. Have you lost heart? Didn't you say you wanted to help with the investigation? My investigations always begin like this: we seem to have nothing, but then . .. Maybe you thought it a waste of time questioning the hetaera? Pah! I can tell you from experience that following up a lead is never a waste of time, quite the opposite. Hunting is knowing how to follow a trail, even though it seems to lead nowhere. Then, contrary to what most people believe, shooting the deer with the arrow turns out to be the easiest—'
    He was interrupted by Diagoras' muttering: 'He was a boy ...' he said, as if answering some question from Heracles.
    'Still too young to be an ephebe. His gaze was pure. His soul seemed as if burnished by Athena herself.'
    'Don't blame yourself. Even at that age we seek outlets.'
    The philosopher raised his eyes from the dark road for the first time and glanced disdainfully at Heracles. 'You don't understand. We teach the boys at the Academy to love wisdom above all else and to reject dangerous pleasures and their fleeting rewards. Tramachus knew virtue, he was aware that it is infinitely more useful and profitable than vice. How could he ignore this?'
    'And how did you teach virtue at the Academy?' asked the Decipherer.
    'Through music and the enjoyment of physical exercise.'
    After another silence, Heracles scratched his head and remarked: 'Well, let's just say that Tramachus thought the enjoyment of physical exercise more important than music'
    Diagoras ignored him and began to speak quickly and pedantically, as if reciting a tedious lesson to a group of dull students. 'Ignorance is the root of all evil. Who would choose the worst while fully aware that it was the worst? If reason, through learning, made you see that vice was worse than virtue, falsehood worse than truth, immediate pleasure worse than the lasting kind, why would you consciously choose the former? You know, for instance, that fire burns. Would you, of your own free will, hold your hand over flames? It's absurd ... An entire year visiting that... woman! Paying for his pleasure! I don't believe it... The hetaera lied to us. I assure you that... What are you laughing at?'
    'Forgive me’ said Heracles. 'I was remembering someone I once watched hold his hand over flames by choice. An old friend from my deme, Crantor of Pontor. He believed quite the opposite: he claimed that reason is not enough to make a man choose the best, since he lets himself be guided by desires not ideas. One day he felt like burning his right hand, so he held it over the fire and burned it.'
    There was a long silence. Then, Diagoras said: