The day after Pelleus's arrival in the Hermenides household, Marinus was due to make his first visit.
Supper with the family had gone well, and Pelleus had been able to smooth over a few queries from Agon.
"That name, it isn't Greek, is it? Pusanella... I don't think I've ever heard it before," the man had said.
"It is Oscan, my lord. I hail from the island of Syracuse, and have Italic blood in my veins," Pelleus explained, to general satisfaction.
I guess the Italians are a big-boned people – that would explain things – Agon thought as he sipped his soup, though he said nothing. I wonder what kind of man this fiancé of hers is! Still, every man has his own taste...
Agon hadn't had to wait long to find out just what Marinus was like. The young man arrived at around midday – accompanied by (or rather accompanying) Onesimus, who walked with a cane – and he had received somewhat of a makeover of his own, though it was not half as extreme as Pelleus's. His hair had been neatly trimmed and slicked back; his tattered clothes replaced by some fine old garments of Onesimus's; and he had been washed, oiled, and perfumed all over. Even Pelleus was impressed at how well his friend scrubbed up – he looked very handsome in a chiton of sky blue that matched his eyes and complemented his tan, and Pelleus felt a surge of pride just as if he really were Marinus's fiancée, especially when he saw Chrysanthe's reaction. She looked stunned; perhaps she had not seen another young man (besides Pelleus) in years, for she was wide-eyed with admiration.
Agon introduced each family member in turn, and when Marinus greeted Chrysanthe with a smile, her mouth fell open vacantly in response until, recovering her self possession, she bowed her head very prettily and gave a curtsey.
This is going to be too easy! Pelleus thought, but then, he only knew half of the situation. They still had a job to do filching a certain necklace or – what was harder – finding a way not to have to steal it.
Then there was Hippolyta – Pelleus recognised the familiar appraising look she was giving Marinus, her nostrils flaring, but there was something else in the look she gave him that Pelleus couldn't quite place. Was it desire? If so, the mother and daughter differed as much in the expression of this as they did in physical type – Hippolyta dark and sensuous; Chrysanthe fair and virginal.
Perhaps we should call them Scylla and Charybdis, Pelleus thought, sensing a danger to be found in each. Marinus, however, looked blissfully at ease. He shook Agon's hand and received a hearty slap on the back for making some humorous remark – it appeared as though his plans were playing out to perfection. The two men had to be something alike, in temper as well as appearance, if they could already share a joke and a sense of familiarity.
Pelleus watched them talking amicably, and as he did he felt Hippolyta watching him, and he stiffened.
The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
"Marinus," he called – very self-consciously – and the party averted their eyes as the two friends greeted one another in low murmurs. Sweet nothings were the perfect pretext for their exchange of intelligence.
"How are you getting on?" Marinus asked.
"Pretty well, thanks; no one suspects me, at least, but I'd better not say any more now. Let's just stick to the plan, all right?"
"Of course! I couldn't ask for anything more..."
Marinus grinned, and feigned planting a kiss on Pelleus's cheek while Chrysanthe looked on with great interest.
"Now, if the two love birds are ready and willing, we shall go in and have some dinner," Agon announced, leading the way with Hippolyta on one side and Onesimus, his peer, on the other. As he followed behind with Pelleus, Marinus recognised Mopsuestia, the old matron, who was fussing over Chrysanthe now as they made their way inside.
Over dinner, the subject of the two youths' engagement naturally came up in conversation, and the lady Hippolyta asked what was the cause of delay.
"Why can you not be married at once? We would be happy to witness the union from the legal point of view," she said, with a smile which did not reach her eyes.
"It is not a lack of eagerness that prolongs our engagement," Marinus answered her. "We are waiting to be reunited with Pusanella's father, Actaeon, who was separated from us in the wreck. We last saw him half a mile or so out to sea, and he may have run aground on another part of Arcadia."
"I see," Hippolyta said, her face impassive.
"For the present, our plans hinge on finding him," Pelleus put in. "We only mean to remain here a short while, before seeking for safe passage to Delos."
So far, so good – all was part of the script they had agreed upon as their pretext for staying in the area. But Marinus, perhaps because he had been so well received in the Hermenides household, yielded to a sudden impulse – a spontaneous stroke of inspiration – and went off script.
"Incidentally, Pusanella's father mentioned that he had a close friend here in Arcadia," he said, looking around the table. "He might have sought out this friend once he ran aground."
Pelleus shot him an enquiring look, but Marinus gave nothing away.
"And who might that be, this friend of your father?" Hippolyta asked Pelleus.
"Why, a countryman of yours: Eustathios of Kithera," Marinus blurted out.
Agon broke the glass he was holding, spilling wine and cutting his hand in the process. At this, Chrysanthe let out a squeak, but neither she nor anyone else seemed to register the name – only Agon, and he quickly glossed over the awkward moment.
"Eustace, you say? I cannot say I know the man. Is he a nobleman, this friend of your father?" he said, his glance flicking between Marinus and Pelleus shiftily.
"I really don't know," Pelleus replied, kicking Marinus under the table. He was struck nonetheless by Agon's reaction. Clearly the man knew more than he was letting on, and the silence from the rest of the party seemed forced. Onesimus stared straight ahead, chewing his food mechanically, but Pelleus was sure he was listening intently.
