Philandros looked at Eirik and tried a smile that still came a bit brittle but was genuine nonetheless. The big Northerner sat on a stool drawn next to the bed; the young Greek was propped up to a comfortable position, leaning against a veritable mountain of cushions, his splinted arm resting on a separate cushion. Eirik smiled in return. “I haven’ got the faintest idea”, he admitted, “I’m going to need another clue.” Philandros’ green eyes blazed in amusement as he tried to come up with a useful hint that wouldn’t make it too easy for his friend to unravel the creature’s identity he was supposed to guess – after all they were playing riddles. “This will be the third clue then! Let me think …”

As Philandros thought hard how to phrase the final clue he gazed at Eirik’s face as if in search for inspiration. “Where’s Olaf?” he suddenly asked, his thoughts distracted by the strange and yet so familiar features. “He’s met a young man at the markets today”, Eirik said off-handedly and smiled. “He’s taking him out for dinner; it seems he’s found himself a new friend.” “Oh, really?” Philandros’ eyes sparkled with curiosity. “Who is it?” Eirik laughed and shook his head. “I don’t know the man”, he said, stretching the truth as far as he was willing to do. After all he really didn’t know his son’s new friend, and after the cook’s passionate reaction he thought it wiser not to mention Aristogeiton’s name.

“I haven’t seen Spurius for quite a while”, Philandros observed. “He went into town”, Eirik said after a slight pause, and the following smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. The Greek’s eyes narrowed. “When did he leave?” “A few hours ago.” Philandros waited for more, but his friend didn’t elaborate. “You don’t think he was … arrested, do you?” For a moment Eirik frowned thoughtfully. “No”, he finally said, “actually I don’t. So what about that clue now? I hope you don’t think I’ll let you win only because of a few broken bones?”