There is always a way, Nikolaos spat.
And so she looked north, down the brush and rock slopes leading to the shore. The deep blue waters lapped gently upon the thin strip of shingle down there. One edge of her lips flickered in loathing acceptance as she realized that Nikolaos was right. Thumbing the cork from her waterskin, she tipped it upside down and let the precious water trickle away into the parched golden earth.
Keeping low and watching the closest of the four outlying sentries, she picked her way carefully down to the shore. There, she wrapped her spear and bow in oiled leather and strapped both across her back, before wading into the bracing shallows. When the waters rose to her breasts, she launched herself prone, stretching out with her arms, kicking back with her legs to corkscrew through the water, westwards, along the peninsula coastline and toward its tip. Weeds and tiny fish stroked and brushed at her legs and belly until she was out in the deeper sections. With every second stroke of her arms, she glanced up at the shoreline on her left. No sign of the nearest outlier. Suddenly, dolphins leapt and chattered, out in the deeper waters. She heard the scrape of boots on the shore and saw the tip of a wide-brimmed hat, coming to investigate. With a full breath, she plunged under the surface. Through the undulating blue, she saw the dolphins speeding along like her. Looking toward the shore, she saw the shins of the guard, wading into the shallows for a better look. Up through the water’s surface, she saw the distorted outline of the man, the shape of his spear held across his chest. But he waded no farther than knee-deep: he had seen nothing but dolphins at play, and he seemed quite happy to stand there and bask in the sunlight… all while the breath in Kassandra’s lungs grew stale and then fiery. If she surfaced now she was as good as dead. If she did not, the same fate awaited. Black spots burst and spread around the edges of her vision as the spent breath escaped from her lips in a flurry of bubbles like rats fleeing a sinking skiff. The cold hand of panic tried to seize her, yet calmly, she took her thumb from the mouth of her air-filled drinking skin, sucked a deep and full breath and swam on, revitalized.
He had watched her from afar, seeing how she had taken time to judge her approach to the Cyclops’s den. Now he watched her surface gracefully, just downhill from the peninsula tip and the estate’s northern gateway, and not too far from his vantage point either. So far, she was living up to her reputation.
“And soon we will see if she is as skillful and deadly as they claim,” mused the watcher, folding his arms and letting a grin rise across his face.
Kassandra levered herself from the water and onto a flat, sun-warmed shelf of stone. She picked her way up the rocky hinterland, keeping low behind bushes as she went. Within a stretch of a hundred strides or so, she was almost dry from the sun. Nearing the estate’s northern walls, she settled down behind a boulder then peeked up to gauge the two guards flanking the gateway. They wore leather corselets and one sported a red headband. One gripped a good spear diagonally across his chest and the other carried a small ax in his belt. Through the gates she saw no movement around the villa itself, none patrolling the rooftop terrace or standing at the entrance vestibule. The Cyclops had taken most of his men with him, she realized. The outer walls were the key. If she could slip by the watch here… she was into the unguarded interior. These gate sentries had to be dealt with, but how to do so without alerting the dozen or so others strolling the parapets? A gentle shuffling sounded right beside her and her heart almost leapt from her mouth in fright. “Ikaros, by all the Gods!” she hissed. Ikaros gave her a hood-eyed look, then lurched up into flight. Kassandra ducked, one eye peeking over the boulder to see the spotted eagle glide toward the gate. The two sentries didn’t notice until he was close, and with a flap of his wings, he sped up and over the head of one guard, talons extending to snatch the red headband.
“Malákas!” the guard yelped, grabbing at his own scalp and howling at the bird as it sped on inside the estate. The pair lumbered inside after Ikaros. A few of the men on top of the wall laughed and heckled as they watched the spectacle.
Kassandra’s eyes stayed on the backs of the distracted two as she rose and sped low, cat-soft on her feet. Just as she slipped through the gateway, the pair gave up their chase of Ikaros and turned back toward her. As if caught by the swing of an invisible boxer, Kassandra threw herself to her right and from their line of sight, landing in a tangle of wild gorse sprouting near the base of the walls. The bush settled and she held a burning breath in her lungs, watching through the undergrowth as the two guards walked right past her… and back to their places at the gateway. The other men on the walls turned to face outwards too. She was inside, unseen.
Heart thumping, she rolled her eyes toward the villa. The main entrance beckoned like a shady maw, the twin red pillars flanking it like bloody fangs. She picked her way across the compound, ducking behind wagons, strewn barrels, piled hay and wooden outhouses until she was a short arrow shot away. Her legs shook, primed to sprint inside. It was only bitter experience that chained her there, on her haunches: Can’t see a damned thing in there, she mused. There might be a dozen of the Cyclops’s men standing in those shadows. She looked up instead—the roof terrace sported a doorway into the upper floor. Creeping forward, she seized an ivy vine and walked herself up the villa wall. A foot slipped, kicking a terra-cotta tile on the porch roof. The tile cracked and slid, spinning away toward the ground. Kassandra let go of the vine with one hand and caught the tile, exhaling in relief.
Stealth, Nikolaos hissed in her head. A Spartan must be nimble and silent, like a shade.
“I am not a Spartan. I am an outcast,” she growled to chase away the voice, then hopped up over the marble balustrade.
The arched doorway leading into the villa’s upper floor was just as shady as the main entrance. Sucking in a deep breath, she edged inside, one hand poised near her spear haft, the other extended for balance should she need to roll or leap clear of any attack. For a moment, she was blinded by the darkness, her head flicking in every direction and her braided tail lashing like a whip. In her mind’s eye she saw grim-faced sentries rushing her, silvery blades chopping down… and then her eyes adjusted and she saw just a quiet, deserted bedchamber. The pale-washed walls were licked with bright paint, depicting a scene of battle, with a one-eyed champion triumphing over many smaller foes. A grand bed lay at one end of the room, laden with plush silk blankets. Nothing in here, she mused… until she turned around and saw the plinth of Parian marble by the chamber hearth. The trophies resting upon it chilled her to her marrow.
Three desiccated heads, mounted on wooden stands like prize battle helms. Kassandra paced over toward them, guardedly, as if they might sprout bodies and attack her. But these three were long dead. One, a bad-toothed man with long hair, had clearly died in pain, going by the death rictus fixed on his face. The next, a young lad who had had his nose sawn off going by the ragged mess at the center of his now-peaceful face. The third, a middle-aged woman, was locked in a sightless scream, mouth ajar as if crying out: Behind you!
A floorboard groaned.
Kassandra spun around, partly drawing her spear, fright lashing her like a tongue of fire.
Nothing.
Her heart thundered against her ribs. Had the noise been her imagination? She returned her spear to her belt and flicked a glance back at the heads. None of them was Skamandrios, she was certain. Perhaps the weasel had stolen whatever he was after and escaped—fled to the north to live the life of a rich man? The thought instilled a bravado in her, and she crept to the bedchamber doorway with a degree of confidence. Edging her head out the door to the landing to look around, she saw nothing to the left, nothing to the right and then, straight ahead… two guards!