Alcon, with the casual familiarity of one well-acquainted with dark alleys, led Rober and Phylas to a secluded corner where the torchlight from the main street cast only weak, flickering patterns. It was discreet enough for a nobleman like Phylas to change clothes without fear of being accidentally spotted and recognized.
"Here you go, Phylas"
Alcon said, holding out the worn, rumpled clothes he had recently "acquired."
"Change into these for now. They look a bit shabby, but at least they won't attract attention like your silk finery."
Phylas shrugged, seeming unconcerned. He removed his luxurious crimson cloak, then the tunic beneath, revealing the somewhat untoned physique of a nobleman unaccustomed to strenuous activity. He took the clothes from Alcon, wrinkling his nose slightly at the rough fabric and lingering smell of sweat, but quickly put them on. The clothes hung loosely on his frame, making Phylas look rather disheveled and stripping him of his usual dignified air.
"There, done"
Phylas said, brushing off his sleeves.
"How do I look?"
Alcon grinned broadly.
"Perfect! Now no one would recognize you as a distinguished nobleman. You look exactly like some old fisherman who just lost all his money gambling!"
Phylas laughed, showing no anger at Alcon's teasing.
"You truly have a tongue sharp as a razor" he said, then turned to Rober.
"Let's go, Linus."
They resumed their journey, winding through the dark, damp alleys of the seaport district. Finally, they arrived before the entrance of Demas Tavern. The place was a rather plain, even dilapidated, single-story building. Its walls were constructed of sun-dried mud bricks mixed with straw, cracked and peeling in many places. The roof was flat, covered with rough wooden planks that didn't look particularly sturdy.
In front of the tavern was a low doorway, completely lacking a door, revealing the dim interior. Outside, a few simple wooden benches, worn smooth and riddled with wormholes, sat under a small awning, likely meant to shelter outdoor drinkers from rain or sun. Above the doorway hung a small wooden sign, faded by time, bearing a simple, crudely painted image of an amphora, a common symbol for taverns in this era.
The three of them stepped inside together. The air within was dim, damp, and stuffy. Light came mainly from the open doorway and a few earthenware oil lamps placed on wooden tables or hanging precariously from the walls. These lamps were very basic, small dishes filled with cheap olive oil, with wicks of linen or straw burning sluggishly, casting a weak, yellowish glow.
The furniture was equally rough and old. There were only a few low, heavy wooden tables, their surfaces covered in knife carvings, scorch marks, and stains from spilled drinks. Surrounding the tables were wooden stools or long benches without backs. Along the damp, moldy earthen walls stood large pottery amphorae, used to hold wine and water.
Demas Tavern was quite crowded at this hour. Most patrons were ordinary working folk: soldiers just off duty, fishermen and sailors fresh back from the sea with sun-darkened skin, farmers from nearby villages in town to sell produce or find extra work. They wore simple clothes of coarse cloth or worn leather, faded with time. Every face showed the clear marks of fatigue after a hard day's labor.
Their conversations revolved mostly around daily work, fishing hauls, crop yields, market prices, complaints about the weather or high taxes, boasts of past exploits or long sea voyages. And, inevitably, there were rumors and discussions about current events in the kingdom: the terrifying sea monster Cetus, the beautiful Princess Andromeda, the brave hero Perseus, and their upcoming wedding tomorrow. There were fearful whispers, resentful grumbles, and also words of defiance against fate, curses aimed at the gods.
Rober found an empty table in a secluded corner, where they would attract the least attention. He, Alcon, and Phylas sat down. A few curious, appraising glances came their way from other patrons, but quickly shifted away, showing little interest. In a place like this, the appearance of strangers was hardly unusual.
A server, who looked more like an apprentice boy than an adult, with a skinny frame and ragged clothes, quickly approached their table, asking in a small voice "What will you gentlemen be having?"
Rober didn't need a menu. He ordered clearly "Wine, dark rye bread, and salted dried meat for three."
He knew these were the most common offerings here. The serving boy committed the order to memory, then hurried off to prepare it.
As soon as the boy left, Alcon turned to Rober, his voice impatient and suspicious:
"Hey, Linus! What are you dragging us to this dump for? There's no damned arena here! You're acting pretty shady, you know!"
Phylas, sitting beside him, placed a calming hand on Alcon's shoulder.
"Easy now, Alcon. Let's hear what Linus has to say."
Rober smiled, a calm and slightly mysterious expression. He shrugged, replying "Well, I was hungry."
He paused briefly, then continued "Besides, we need to pretend to be ordinary customers, drink a few flagons of wine, eat something, before we can start digging for information about that illegal underground arena, don't you think? If we just barge in aggressively, we'll definitely raise suspicion!"
Alcon, hearing this, conceded the logic and didn't press further.
But, in truth, that wasn't Rober's only reason. He wanted some time, a private space, to talk with and extract more information from Phylas, this fun-loving nobleman who seemed to know a great deal about palace secrets and hidden matters.
A short while later, the serving boy returned, carrying a wooden tray bearing three rough pottery cups, a large jug of wine, loaves of dark rye bread, and a plate of salted dried meat that looked blackish and possibly quite old.
Rober invited Alcon and Phylas to eat.
"Come on" he said "let's fill our bellies first. We'll need energy later to cheer enthusiastically while watching the fights!"
He took a piece of bread, broke it, and took a bite. It was hard as rock and slightly sour. He took a sip of wine; it tasted watery and somewhat astringent. He tried a piece of the dried meat; it was tough as leather and incredibly salty.
Rober frowned slightly. Although not a picky eater, his palate truly couldn't reconcile with the rough fare and simple preparation methods of this era. He decided not to eat further, just nibbling a little for show. He began to steer towards his main objective: gathering information from Phylas.
He turned to Alcon, initiating the conversation: "Hey Alcon, are you going to watch the union ceremony for Princess Andromeda and the hero Perseus tomorrow?"
Alcon, who was busy gnawing on a tough piece of dried meat, looked up at the question and replied enthusiastically "Of course! The princess and the hero getting married! How could I possibly miss it? There's bound to be lots of fun stuff happening, and good food too!"
He swallowed hastily, then boasted "And did you know, Phylas chose me as his attendant for the ceremony! I'll get a chance to see the princess and the hero up close! Heard they're both stunners, beautiful as paintings!"
Rober feigned surprise. He turned to Phylas, asking "Is that true, Phylas?"
Phylas nodded confirmation, looking slightly proud.
"Indeed" he said.
"Actually, according to custom, ordinary nobles, even close relatives of King Cepheus or Queen Cassiopeia, don't easily get close access to the royal family during important ceremonies like this."
He paused briefly, then continued with a somewhat mysterious tone:
"But my case is different. I am not merely a nobleman; I am also a disciple of the Goddess Athena, goddess of wisdom, strategy, and war. Therefore, my standing in the eyes of the royal family is somewhat different from that of other ordinary nobles."
Rober, receiving this valuable information, pretended to be impressed.
"Oh! I had no idea Phylas was a disciple of the goddess Athena! Truly respectable!"
Alcon, hearing this, chimed in proudly "See! I told you! Our Phylas is no ordinary man! Even though his rank and class are very high, he's very friendly and approachable. First time in my life I've met a noble as kind and generous as him!"
Rober nodded in agreement:
"Indeed!"
Then, Rober deftly steered the conversation in another direction. He turned to Phylas and asked, his tone full of curiosity:
"Phylas, I have a question, if you would indulge me. Is it true that Queen Cassiopeia is also a disciple of some god?"
Phylas looked surprised by Rober's question. He studied him for a moment, then nodded confirmation:
"Yes, that's correct. Queen Cassiopeia is a disciple of the Goddess Hera, goddess of marriage and family. But how did you know that? It's not common knowledge. Not all disciples publicly declare their faith. Many, like Queen Cassiopeia, simply worship the gods and keep it private."
Rober smiled, replying "Well, my guess was that disciples of the gods, and perhaps prophets, often have special ways to communicate with the divine, correct?"
He leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret:
"Coupled with the incident that occurred previously, where Queen Cassiopeia inadvertently spoke arrogantly, comparing her beauty to the Nereid sea nymphs, and was overheard by the sea god Poseidon, leading him to punish the entire kingdom..."
He paused, looking directly into Phylas's eyes, then continued:
"From these points, I deduced that Queen Cassiopeia might also be a disciple of some god. Only then could she potentially use a divine language to utter those words, making it possible for Poseidon to hear and become enraged."
Phylas smiled, looking impressed.
"Ha ha! Your reasoning is excellent, Linus! Very logical and astute! I must commend your intelligence!"
He nodded thoughtfully, adding "It is indeed so. The languages disciples use to petition the gods are diverse and complex. But ultimately, all gods, regardless of their pantheon, share a common origin. Therefore, it's natural that the gods can understand each other's languages."
Rober gave a rueful smile.
"In that case, Queen Cassiopeia was exceedingly careless and overconfident. She didn't consider that possibility and unintentionally let Poseidon overhear her arrogant words in a moment of vanity."
Phylas nodded in agreement.
"Indeed. It was a costly lesson, not just for the Queen, but for all of us."
He looked at Rober again, praising him:
"But I must admit, you are very intelligent, Linus. You have keen observation skills and excellent analytical abilities."
Rober skillfully feigned humility and disadvantage:
"Phylas, you flatter me. I too wish I could study diligently, to become useful, someone talented like yourself. But I don't know where to start, how to proceed. I just wander aimlessly, from place to place, doing hard manual labor..."
Phylas smiled encouragingly.
"With your intelligence and reasoning ability, I believe you would do well. At the very least, with these skills, you could become a fine preacher, or perhaps an erudite scholar."
He paused, then continued enthusiastically "If you are truly interested, after tomorrow's ceremony, I will take you to the temple of the gods. I shall introduce you to the priests and help you get an opportunity to become a disciple, an acolyte of some god. What do you say?"
Rober, hearing Phylas's unexpected offer, couldn't hide his joy and emotion. This was exactly what he wanted, the opportunity he had been seeking. He quickly stood up and bowed his head to Phylas in thanks:
"Truly, Phylas? I... I truly don't know how to thank you..."
Phylas waved a hand dismissively.
"Think nothing of it, Linus. I merely wish to help a talented and ambitious young man."
Mentioning the temple and disciples seemed to jog Phylas's memory. He frowned suddenly.
"Ah, speaking of which, a new girl disciple just arrived at the temple today. I hear she's very talented, but also quite mischievous, and has already caused quite a stir."
He sighed, then added:
"Her mischievous streak isn't unlike yours, Alcon..."
Alcon, who had been engrossed in wolfing down his food, looked up at the mention of his name, confused.
Phylas's face turned serious again as he reminded Alcon:
"Tomorrow, when you attend me, you'd better watch your tongue! You can't just speak carelessly everywhere as you do here. If you say something inappropriate, don't come crying to me for help!"