"Calchas!" Marinus cried, "the pig-keeper is your father, Pelleus?"

  He blushed after asking this question, fearing he had said something offensive.

  "He was," Pelleus answered soberly. "He passed away two days ago. I managed to reunite with him before the end, but his health had failed on him. No doubt in other conditions he would have lived a long, healthy life."

  Hippolyta let out a low groan and sank into a seat, pressing a hand to her temples. Agon, however, seemed hardly to be listening. He was watching Pelleus with some inscrutable expression on his face, lost in thought.

  "Thus, naturally, Pelleus will inherit what was his," Onesimus said, some minutes later.

  "You don't mean the contract still stands? I can't be obligated to a dead man..." Agon hissed, attempting to draw Onesimus aside confidentially.

  "On the contrary, you are bound by your word, and since Pelleus lives as Eustathios's heir, the estate now belongs to him," the old man stated firmly, resisting Agon's appeals. The man cast an imploring look at Pelleus.

  "Pusanella – Pelleus – whoever you are," he cried out in desperation, "will you not have pity on me? After what we have shared, surely it must mean something..."

  But Pelleus held his peace and would not meet Agon's eyes. The poor man was desolate; with no one to turn to, his fear turned to rage.

  "You deceived me! Tell me, Onesimus, is our law silent on the crimes of cross-dressing and fraud?"

  "It is not silent, but the remedy for these abuses is left to the discretion of the judge," Onesimus replied, unruffled. "I think it only fair that Pelleus make some restitution for the wrongs he has done in thus deceiving you. He ought, I think, to make provision for your future here in Arcadia. Perhaps in the capacity of a tenant? I believe the estate is in need of a pig-keeper, now that dear Eustathios has departed this life..."

  Agon's eyes bulged as if they were about to pop from his skull.

  "You wouldn't dare!" he choked.

  "It is only fitting," Onesimus said coldly, and turned to Pelleus. "What do you think, Pelleus? Can you bear to keep this wretched man here, or would you prefer to send him on his way, and pay damages for your offences?"

  "I am afraid he would do something reckless if cast out on his own..." Pelleus said at length. "I think it would be best if we kept him here, as you say."

  "Spoken as your father's son," Onesimus said approvingly. He turned to Agon again. "You may, of course, appeal to the other judges in Arcadia, but something tells me you would rather take this olive branch extended by two friends."

  "N-no," Agon stammered, "I will accept your offer, Onesimus. D-do not hand me over to the others, I pray you..."

  "I thought not," Onesimus said, and his mouth twitched.

  "There is just one thing I wish to ask," Marinus spoke up.

  "By all means..."

  "Well, it's a question for mister Agon. Just why were you so willing to abandon not only your wife, but your daughter, at the drop of a hat?" he asked, expecting Agon to writhe in shame under the enquiry, but the man only cast him a weary look and reached into a pocket to pull out a scroll.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  "I have been doubly betrayed," he muttered, "I received this letter two days ago – it was the final straw."

  Marinus took the scroll and unfurled it eagerly, and moments later his face fell in horror.

  "What is it, Marinus, what is the matter?" Pelleus asked in concern, but he received no answer. Marinus was frozen in shock. Pelleus took the scroll gently from his hands and read over the contents.

  "Ah..." he said, turning to Onesimus and Hippolyta. "It is Chrysanthe – she has married a friend of her cousin, over in Megara. They managed to elope and are now husband and wife. She means to remain there with her mother's side of the family..."

  Hippolyta's face lit up with mingled hope and suspicion, and she snatched the note to read it herself. Onesimus shrugged and reached out to pat Marinus clumsily on the shoulder.

  "There there, it was not to be, eh?" he said, while the youth struggled to compose himself.

  "I'm sorry, Marinus." Pelleus said, as his friend buried his face in his hands.

  "It's alright," he said some moments later, looking up with dry eyes. "I must say, it hurts a lot less than I would have expected. I think I have been so worried about the pair of us these past couple of weeks that I hardly had room to think about Chrysanthe... and, well, perhaps I am not missing out on all that much..."

  He nodded towards Hippolyta and Agon who stood apart from one another, gazing fixedly in different directions.

  "My lady Hippolyta," Onesimus went on, "I am truly sorry for these disruptions to your family life. What will you do now, may I ask?"

  The lady of the house dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief, but her expression was cold and calculating when she looked at the old man.

  "I shall return to my relatives in Megara," she said. "After all, Chrysanthe will need her mother at her side in all that she is going through now."

  "I think that is wise," Onesimus said, nodding. He then turned to Marinus and Pelleus.

  "That leaves us with you two. Pelleus, this estate is now your rightful property. Marinus, you are a free man, though if I might make a suggestion: stay here with Pelleus for a little while yet. I think your friend will need some help finding his feet in his new role as lord of the manor."

  He smiled broadly at them both, placing a hand on each lad's shoulder.

  "I wouldn't dream of leaving him now – if he'll have me, that is. It's my fault we got into such hot water, after all..." Marinus said shyly.

  "I wouldn't have it any other way, Marinus," Pelleus said, beaming. He was not exactly joyful, since he had so lately found and lost his father, but he felt lighter now that something had been done to right the wrongs done to him. And whatever the future held in store, he had his friends behind him now; they would face it together.

  THE END