Then fearing that he might have omitted some act, he went out and fetched in the priests to look at her. They gazed, awestruck. “Yes, you are doing all you can,” they said. “The maid is certainly in a vision. But she is far gone toward Hades.”
So Nikander resumed his post. Sitting there, patiently playing, he was the more convinced that she would die. Even his anxiety for Lycophron faded before this unlooked-for sorrow. Nikander’s two sons were only by some physical chance his children. This girl was the child of his mind and heart. She loved what he loved, hated what he hated. She was his nearest of kin. His own! Why had he not known it before?
At last, as Theria’s wide-open eyes half closed, he tried to believe she slept. So he lay down on a couch near at hand while the old slave Baltè watched.
It was full morning when Baltè woke him.
“Karamanor and Agis are in the andron to speak with you.”
These were the young kinsmen whom Nikander had sent in pursuit of Lycophron. Nikander rose and went to hear what he must hear.
The two young men waited solemnly.
“It was midnight, Nikander, when we came up with the spies on the north road,” said young Karamanor gently. “They gave battle so quick that we had just time to fend ourselves even though we so outnumbered them. And Lycophron, even though we called and kept calling to him to come over to our side, that we had only come to save him, Lycophron laughed us to scorn. And, oh, Nikander, he fought splendidly, fiercely, like a wild boar. And so he fell. Two of the spies fell. The rest fled to the hills.”
“He was fearless always,” said Nikander in a low voice.