In the morning Marinus woke first, and would not let the matter rest, bringing it up again as soon as Pelleus was up.

  "Did I mention Agon, her father, doesn't let her out? I mean, really! What is his problem?" he rambled, while they folded up their net hammocks.

  "I wouldn't go around talking like that about his lordship," a voice said, taking them both by surprise. It was Anneus, who was leaning out of his hut looking puffy-eyed and tousle-haired from sleep.

  "We're only a stone's throw from his estate, you see, and he has all sorts of servants to tell tales on other people to him," he said, and gave a massive yawn.

  He offered them some breakfast – fried fish and flat breads – and they all crowded round his little table in the hut.

  "What was that you were saying about mistress Chrysanthe, anyway?" he asked, with another of his shrewd looks at Marinus, his eyes twinkling. The youth nearly choked on his bread.

  "Oh, that's right!" he said. "I meant to tell you: she was the one stealing figs, Anneus! I spotted her, clear as day..."

  The fisherman did not seem surprised.

  "I should have guessed..." he said, with a sullen shake of the head. "It's bad news for us anyway. The young mistress isn't allowed in the orchard, so I'll be blamed."

  "But I saw her sneaking in – Mopsy was there too, her maid."

  "Mopsy?" the fisherman repeated, "Oh! old Mopsuestia, you mean?" he leaned back and gave a great bleat of laugher. "You're on intimate terms with her, are you now?" he asked. But he was soon restored to sobriety by thoughts of punishment.

  "It's no good there, Marinus – that only means the girl's old handmaid will be blamed, for not preventing her in the first place. Agon's very strict, and his justice is severe..."

  "But that's nonsense!" Marinus protested. "Chrysanthe – I mean, she's not a child! She can take responsibility for herself, surely!"

  "You may see her that way – as the young woman she is – but to Agon, it was only a handful of summers ago that she was still his little girl, and he still treats her as such, though she's hardly a day under 17 by now, I guess. Coddled!" he said, with a knowing nod.

  "She does sound a bit immature, Marinus," Pelleus chipped in, "I mean, stealing figs? Has she got nothing better to do?"

  "No, I daresay she doesn't!" Marinus retorted, flaring up defensively. "She's trapped in there by that mean old father of hers, who won't even let her wander in her own back garden! 'I'm his prisoner', she said!"

  "And are you going to rescue her?" Pelleus asked coldly.

  "Hold on, friends! Let's have no talk of rescuing; you don't know who you're dealing with!" Anneus interjected, imploring them with his eyes.

  "Well please, fill us in then!" Marinus said a little tetchily. "Let us know who we're dealing with, since you're the local here."

  Anneus looked from one lad to the other, but they each seemed determined to avoid the other's eyes. Pelleus was staring at an uneaten sardine on his plate, and Marinus was glaring at the fisherman, who gave a tragic little sigh.

  "Where shall I begin?" he said, running a hand through his hair as he collected his thoughts. "Agon Hermenides – that is his family name – was not always the top dog here in Kithera." he said, lowering his voice slightly so that the two young men leaned in. "As I have heard, he was a fairly middling member of the gentry here, until he came into a fortune some years ago by suspicious, maybe illicit means. I suppose that is why the other nobles took issue with him, and many who were unhappy with his new, superior status withdrew to other parts of the island.

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  "They say he has become proud and protective of his honour. You've seen, Marinus, how jealously he guards his household against anything that might bring it into disrepute. It may even be that he has some guilt on his conscience, that has caused him to shut himself up in that lonely palace. That is what Onesimus thinks, and he says Agon is to be pitied..."

  "It sounds as though he brought this misery on himself, at least in part," Marinus ventured.

  "I agree. His own people are not over-fond of their master, and my own experience of his justice has left much to be desired... he takes out his frustrations on others, I suspect," Anneus replied. "Fear and loneliness can warp a man's character, Onesimus says, and he's right. So you two need to be careful, if you have any mind to approach him or his daughter."

  He gave Marinus a significant look.

  "I take your point," the lad replied, "but I thought you would have more confidence in me. I am of noble birth and upstanding character; I am quite capable of courting Chrysanthe honourably, with Agon's consent."

  Anneus shook his head with an exasperated look, and was about to contradict him when Pelleus spoke up.

  "There is something very fishy going on here, and you know, Marinus might have a point about Chrysanthe," he said in a quiet voice. "I mean that her father's repressive attitude can't be good for her."

  "It's none of our business!" Anneus objected, throwing his hands in the air.

  "At least let me meet these people – Agon and his family," Marinus pleaded. "If they choose to throw me out on my backside that's my problem. But I won't just ignore what I've seen and heard."

  "I wouldn't try and argue with him, Anneus," Pelleus said with an apologetic look at the fisherman, who had opened his mouth to make a retort. "When Marinus gets an idea in his head, there's no persuading him otherwise..."

  "Oh, very well!" the fisherman said, relenting in his admonishments. "But you must speak to Onesimus first. He at least might be able to talk some sense into you two!"

  This proved easier said than done, for when Anneus called on his old friend, the housekeeper explained that he had gone to the other side of island to make an appointment, and would not be back for a couple of days. Anneus reported this news with a satisfied smile on his face, thinking that the delay might cool some of Marinus's fervour, but in that he was mistaken.

  The fair youth occupied himself all that day in dreaming up schemes of how he might win over Chrysanthe and her ghastly guardians. Pelleus, meanwhile, accompanied the fisherman back down to the eastern shores to fish, leaving his friend to his plotting.

  "If only I could contrive a way to make a good impression without raising the man's hackles..." Marinus muttered to himself, walking up and down the avenues around Anneus's hut, and coming as close as he dared within view of the Hermenides estate.

  "If I had someone on the inside, even, making good reports of my character... someone undercover..."

  He was still thinking of potential disguises when dusk arrived. As he walked back up the lane he saw a figure approaching over the top of the ridge by the cliffs – just a face at first, framed by dark brown hair: the fair and gentle face of a maiden. Then the figure's eyes met his, and Marinus recognised his friend Pelleus. Somehow his first glimpse, in the soft, dusky light and at a distance, had deceived him – but the long and lolloping strides and tall frame were a dead giveaway.

  "Pelleus!" he called with fresh enthusiasm, running forward to meet the lad. "Pelleus, you've given me an idea!"