Oracles of Delphi - Chapters 1 - 6

"As you wish," Theron answered. 

"Are you finished?" Kleomon sputtered.  

"Quite." Philon said. 

"Then why don't you tell me what we're going to do about this." Kleomon pointed to the body. "About them."  

"Who is 'them'?" Theron asked. 

Kleomon glared. "Don't play ignorant with me,"  

"Kleomon," Philon purred, "Theron is our guest in the Sacred Precinct of Apollon and we should treat him as such." 

"I'm afraid I must disappoint you," Theron said. "I have no idea who or what you're talking about." 

"Who are you trying to fool?"  

"I assure you, I have no intention of fooling anyone." 

Aithera and Praxis looked at each other. Why was the old priest baiting Theron? And why was Theron taking the bait? 

"Tell me, Theron of Thessaly, who would benefit most from discrediting the Sacred Precinct of Apollon?" 

"Kleomon, no one profits if the Oracle of Apollon is discredited," Philon spoke up. "Even the pirates in Kirra and the bandits along the mountain roads depend on the pilgrims coming to Delphi for their livelihood." 

"You both know who would benefit. There can be no doubt-especially since the murder took place on the very night of their naming ceremony." 

Naming ceremony? What in the world was the old man going on about, Aithera wondered. 

"If you are implying-" Theron began. 

"I'm not implying anything. I don't have to. It is perfectly clear that this is a human sacrifice and it is perfectly clear that those women, those priestesses, they're the ones behind it." 

"Human sacrifice? That's ridiculous," Aithera muttered. 

"Ridiculous?" Kleomon rounded on her. "What do you know about this? Or are you one of them, too? Is that why you're in Delphi? To join them?" 

"Who is 'them'?" Aithera spoke without thinking. 

"Your tutor must have schooled you in their ways, taught you all their secrets." 

"I don't know what you're talking about." Aithera said before she could stop herself. "Besides, you would think a priest of Apollon could tell this is no sacrifice. Where is the blood offering? How can it be a sacrifice when no blood is spilled?" She felt Theron's eyes on her. He always warned her to watch her mouth.  

The priest's face purpled as he advanced on Aithera. "Who are you to instruct me about sacrifices to the gods?"  

With his blue eyes glaring, Praxis stepped in front of Aithera and faced the old man down.  

Philon grasped his counterpart's arm. "Kleomon," he said in a voice as soothing as warm honey, "this conversation is doing us no good. Heraklios will track down the woman's kin and find someone to pay the blood price for her murder. It is our task to make sure she gets a proper burial, to re-sanctify the sacred altar of Dionysos, and purify the theater that the body has defiled. As priests we must do our duty and let Heraklios do his."  

"Do not tell me how to do my duty." Kleomon wrenched away, and turned on Theron. "Is that why you're here with your acolyte? To do your duty, Theron of Pytheion?" Kleomon turned to Philon, "Do you honestly believe it is a coincidence that the son of a known priestess of Gaia turns up in Delphi the very night of this terrible murder?"