“‘He has more lives than a cat, and he has changed the war.’ ‘Isokles will kill him for me. You have failed,’ Phiale said. She was on a swing, well over his head – one of the divertissements of Lycurgus’s new Temple of Aphrodite. Sophokles was practising his knife pass, over and over, and apparently talking to the wall – or to the statue of Aphrodite as a war-goddess.‘Isokles may be a dab hand at terrifying prostitutes, but he’s not exactly a man-killer,’ Sophokles said. ‘He’s quite mad. Perhaps... god-possessed. Who knows?’ Phiale’s voice was dreamy.‘Well, if so, perhaps he has a chance, because Satyrus and Melitta are, between them, quite the most god-helped pair I’ve encountered. I look forward to killing them’ – Sophokles flicked his dagger from right to left hand before making his lunge – ‘because it appeals to my highly developed sense of hubris.’Phiale leaped from her swing and landed like the dancer she was. ‘Satyrus has a lover,’ she said.‘That’s not really surprising,’ Sophokles put in.‘Shush, you are ingracious.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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