“If it were from some good source, you would tell me.”
Theria dragged herself up to her knees. “It was a good source. Oh, Father, the truest, the best, the kindest.” Poor Theria; even to speak of her lover set her white face aflame.
But Nikander was pushing further. “Theria, I begin to believe what the slaves have been telling in the household, that you have a lover. Now do not lie to me. Your lover brought you this news.”
Theria was utterly broken down. She could only moan, “But he told me the truth. He told me in order to save them. He told me because he loves my house and you and he wants to save us from ruin.”
“Great Paian, what a heap of sins on one girl’s head! She has deceived on the tripod, not once, but twice. She has a lover—she a priestess of Apollo. Now she has fled the Pythia House (which she ought never to have left) to bring a monstrous lie against her brothers.” To Nikander the shock of all this was terrible beyond belief. But worst of all, he feared that the vile tale about his sons was true. Oh, if he could crush that fear out of his mind. It must not be true. It could not——
He paced up and down the room beating his hands together weeping, sobbing, as only those can who, but once in a lifetime, give way to grief.
“My children all against me. But no, it cannot be true. Ruin for them, ruin for me. It cannot be. No!”
Theria crept weakly to her feet and followed him, but as she touched him he reeled from her.
“Don’t touch me!” he cried.