A Murder in Thebes (Alexander the Great 2) by Paul Doherty

relief as her fingers clutched a dagger. She pulled this out, threw away the battered sheath,
     and went to the door.
    “Who is there?” she called. Her own voice echoed down the stairwell. She heard a door opening and closing. “Castor, Pollux!”
    Someone was coming up the stairs. Her blood chilled, yes she was sure, one foot dragging after the other; something smacked
     against the stone wall time and again as if a drum were being beaten.
    “Who is there?” she called.
    “I am the shade of hell!” A voice echoed, hollow, up the steps.
    Miriam’s mouth went dry. What could she do? She felt the thickness of the door and stepped back into Memnon’s chamber. The
     key was gone but she drew the bolts across. Outside, though more faintly, she heard the sound of the intruder,lame foot dragging after him, as he climbed the stairs. The awful drumming against the wall grew louder. Miriam recalled the
     words about Oedipus, the swollen foot, ancient king of Thebes. And what had Alexander said? That Oedipus’s ghost had been
     seen in Thebes. The sounds grew nearer. Miriam drew in her breath, grasping the dagger more firmly. The door was tried. A
     loud rapping and then a crashing, as if someone were beating it with a club. Miriam stood transfixed, torch in one hand, dagger
     in the other. She heard her name being called but this came from the courtyard below. The crashing grew louder; the door was
     shaking.
    “Who is it?” Miriam screamed. She hurried toward the shutters, pulled off the bar, and threw them open. The cold night air
     rushed in. Miriam was only aware of that terrible crashing against the door. She turned, dagger in hand, and then the knocking
     ceased.

CHAPTER 5

    “M IRIAM ! M IRIAM !” S IMEON called. “What is the matter?”
    She moved to the door. Was it Simeon? she thought. Or someone mimicking his voice?
    “Go away,” she called.
    “Miriam Bartimaeus, it’s your brother. I was concerned about you.”
    She drew back the bolts. Simeon stood there on the stairwell; behind him she could make out the shadowy outlines of two soldiers.
    “Miriam, what is the matter?”
    She backed into the room, throwing the dagger onto the bed.
    “There was someone else,” she declared, “someone with a lame foot. He came up the stairs. He was banging at the door.” She
     brushed by him; outside, the soldiers were smirking.
    “It’s a mausoleum of ghosts,” one of them remarked. “Mistress, there’s no one here.”
    “I know what I heard and saw,” Miriam retorted. Shestared down the stairwell. Of course, it could have been a ghost. But, then again, if the intruder had heard her brother calling
     her name, he could have slipped down the stairs into another chamber and, when Simeon and the guards passed, slipped quietly
     out.
    “How many are here?”
    She went back into the room.
    “Just the three of us. I was in the camp,” Simeon replied. “Alexander asked where you were? I realized the soldiers had come
     in from the citadel. I asked these two to follow me. We found the Cadmea deserted; we’d passed the last of the guards on the
     road. I saw the shutter open and glimpsed the light.”
    Miriam closed the door and sat down on a stool.
    “There was someone here,” she whispered, “and I don’t think they meant me well.” She then described what she had read in Memnon’s
     manuscript. Simeon whistled under his breath.
    “The specter of Oedipus!” he joked. His face became serious; he stared owl-eyed at his twin sister. She was so different from
     him, tall and resolute. Simeon liked the comforts of life. He felt at home in the writing office, sifting through parchments,
     drafting letters, listening to the gossip, reveling in the excitement that always surrounded Alexander. Miriam, that determined
     look on her thin face, was always wandering off to places where she shouldn’t.
    “Come on,” he urged. “You haven’t eaten. Let’s leave this benighted place. Alexander is holding a