Since Salamis, Nikander had been a most powerful figure in the Council, ardently loved, sincerely feared. The lovers spoke first.
“You know your daughter, Nikander. Tell us what you think of her.”
“I think she can do it. Whether I am willing for her to go is another matter. Oh,” Nikander added, “I was as unwilling as you are to acknowledge this power in my daughter. Like you I thought it insulted my sons who should have it in her stead. But hers is the gift of mind. I have been taught that, obstinately fighting. I have been punished until I saw.”
“Punished by herself?” sneered Melas.
“No, by some unrelenting god,” he answered with the love of Theria shining in his eyes.
“Remember,” spoke Timon again. “She has seen Apollo. We want Delphi kept alive in the hearts of her colonists. Could we do better than send one who has beheld the god?”
This argument won.
It was as if Apollo himself were bestowing the leadership upon his ardent young priestess.
Nikander and Timon left the Council together. Each gazed for a moment into the other’s face.