Back then, the people of Naxos were still unfamiliar with the Temple of Hades, so Corinthus was responsible for spreading Hades' teachings. After seven years, the people here have entirely accepted Hades, the benevolent king of the underworld, and the number of people worshipping him every day became much greater than that of Demeter, which shows Corinthus' ability and the hard work he had put in over the years.
Although Corinthus had been to the jail many times, he still couldn't get used to its dark, damp and smelliness. Corinthus continued to walk through the passage while ignoring the cries of other prisoners in the prison cells on both sides. Finally, he stopped at a cell.
The jailer then removed the lock and pushed open the iron gate.
Corinthus walked inside, but a smell of blood struck his nose and made him frown. He then continued to walk a few more steps and saw a naked man lying down in the corner through a faint light coming from a narrow window. The man lay there motionless as the blood oozing from the numerous scars outside his body dried up, and the only thing they could hear was the faint sound of breathing…
Corinthus then turned to look at Theokases, who was following him and rebuked him, “Why did you strike him so hard?!”
Facing the priest's reproachful gaze, Theokases became a bit ashamed as he replied hesitantly, “He…he doesn’t want to tell the truth…”
“All of you go out; leave us here.” Corinthus said deeply.
“Esteemed priest, it's too dangerous here!” Warned the jailer.
“Don't worry; With Hades' blessing, he won't hurt me!” Said Corinthus firmly.
Then Theokases and his men began leaving.
“Also, bring me a few pots of boiling water.” Corinthus made another request.
After they left, Corinthus and the two priests who came with him carefully carried the slave to the simple bed next to him.
Corinthus had gained a great deal of experience from visiting the jail many times, so he had made his subordinates carry two large medicine boxes, one containing medicine for external wounds and one with clean linen when coming here. Once the guards delivered the boiling water, he and his subordinates first dipped the linen in the water and began wiping away the blood from the slave's body. Then they would gently peel off the hardened blood mixed with dirt and grass on the wound. Afterwards, they would remove the pus from the wounds bit by bit…
Back then, Davos instructed Herpus to send physicians to train the priests of the Temple of Hades in basic first aid skills. And Corinthus was considered one of the priests that studied hard, and coupled with years of practice, his level of treatment could be comparable to a Theonian physician.
But no matter how gentle they were, cleaning up the wounded part was still painful that it woke up the slave. When the slave saw a man squatting in front of him in a white robe with a simple black letter ‘A’ drawn on his chest, he subconsciously struggled to sit up.
“Stop moving; wait until I finish treating and bandaging your wounds.” The kind voice made the slave shiver slightly. He then felt that the voice was familiar as if it was the voice he heard during the slave liberation ceremony of Naxos during Hades' Day on September 9 every year.
“…benevolent priest Corinthus?!” He hoarsely shouted in uncertainty.
“It's me.” His answer was like a warm ray of sunshine shining into the slave's cold-dying heart, making his eyes moist with tears in an instant. He struggled to prop up his head and stare in awe at the old man who was rubbing a cold and comfortable medicine on his wound and then covered the wound with a clean linen strip… The old man didn't even care that his face, covered with beads of sweat, had stained the white robe with his blood and dirt.
After Corinthus finished his treatment, he reached out to wipe the slave's sweat and asked, “What's your name?”
But the slave didn't respond, so Corinthus looked at the slave and saw tears fill his eyes. The slave was looking at him straight while biting his lips hard, trying not to make any sound, which relieved Corinthus as it seemed he would be able to talk to him.
Corinthus looked at the slave seriously and said, “You know how to cry at this time, yet you murdered so many people cruelly!”
“I didn't-” seeing the man he respected the most misunderstood him, the slave almost blurted out the truth; He then hurriedly shut his mouth and said reluctantly, “Once I die, I would face the three judges, and they would give me a fair trial.”
“A fair trial?” Corinthus briefly pondered and said, “Even if you didn't kill anyone, you are lying. Aren't you afraid to have your tongue pulled in hell and face endless sufferings?! If you hide the truth and let the real criminal escape punishment, you would become an accomplice, and the three judges will have you bear half of the responsibility for his crimes. By then, it wouldn't be just having your tongue pulled. Are you prepared?”
After hearing those words, the slave's expression changed considerably, and he quickly lowered his head. Then he saw his hands clenching, which caused his blood to ooze on the newly bound linen.
“Don't clench your hands too much; else your wound would open again!” Corinthus immediately patted his arm with concern. Seeing that he was still clenching his fist, he asked softly, “What's your name?”
“…Lakse.” The slave squeezed out his name.
“Are you a Numidian?” Corinthus looked at the slave's dark skin and said, “I heard from the constable that four of the girls killed were Numidians, which are all your countrymen!”
Lakse's body shivered.
“From what the constable said, the six skeletons were buried neatly, and each one had an obol on its mouth. The murderer wouldn't have been so kind as to do that…Lakse, it was the kindness in your heart that prompted you to do that, was it not?…” Corinthus sighed and said with certainty, “I believe you aren't the murderer. Rather, the real murderer had simply forced you to obey his command!”
Lakse's shoulders shook more. Then they heard a low sobbing sound.
“It must be painful for you to live like this, my son…” Corinthus sighed again, but his tone became stern, “But…now that there is a chance to catch the murderer and have him severely punished by the law, you had instead taken the blame for him and gave him a chance to hurt more Numidian girls in the future. Could you really put up with that?! And are you really willing to do that?!”
“I am not!” Lakse raised his head. He then roared with emotion as tears filled his eyes, “What can I do? I am just a slave while he is a powerful man! And my wife and two daughters are in his hands! What can I do?!!!”
“Hades was the most just among the gods. Whether slaves or statesmen, he would treat them all equally. Following his will, his majesty Davos created the Law of Theonia to protect the good and punish all the evil people in the kingdom of Theonia. There is nothing for you to worry about, and tell the truth! O Hades, I, Corinthus, your pious devotee, swears that I would protect Lakse's wife and daughter and never let any harm come to them!”
Lakse was surprised to watch Corinthus place his left hand on his chest while raising his right hand and piously pledging an oath. Feeling endless gratitude, the wall in Lakse’s heart melted. He then knelt down in front of Corinthus with a ‘plop’.
. . . . . . . . . . . .
Theokases walked into the waiting room of Naxos' city hall and said excitedly as soon as he saw Stromboli, “Milord, your suggestion truly worked. The slave finally confessed!”
Stromboli then said with complacency and emotionally, “All I know is that the slaves of the kingdom are the ones who believed in the Temple of Hades the most. After all, slaves from everywhere would run to the Temple of Hades from time to time to cry out their grievances. Speaking of which, it had something to do with that case related to Pollux that rocked Magna Graecia more than a decade ago…”
“Milord.” Theokases stepped forward and whispered with a slight tensed expression, “That slave also revealed another thing about Ladician…”
Stromboli looked at Theokases' expression and said, “What is it?”
Theokases didn't speak. Instead, he handed him the note in his hand.
After carefully reading the note, Stromboli was startled that his two white eyebrows tensed up. He then slammed the note on the table and asked in a hurry, “Is what he told the truth?!”
“He said he didn't do it. It was the slave, who had killed himself, that had been doing it secretly and confided it to him when he got drunk…I can't confirm the truth of this matter now.” In a rare display of hesitation, Theokases said, “This matter directly involves elder Ladician…so I came here to ask for your instructions.”
“You've done well on not acting without authorisation.” Stromboli nodded in approval of Theokases' approach. But his mind recalled some of the rumours he had heard vaguely during his years in Naxos.
With his hands on his hunched back, he walked slowly around the living room with a solemn expression. On the other hand, Theokases just waited for him quietly.
A moment later, Stromboli pondered and asked, “Who else knows about this?”
“Me and my two most trusted men…and priest Corinthus…”
“Tell your men never say anything! Otherwise-” Stromboli's eyes flashed with fierceness.
“Understood, milord.”
“The priest is a smart man; I will speak with him about this. Not to mention that there is a law forbidding the priests from interfering in political matters.” Stromboli stroked his beard. He then looked at Theokases and ordered, “Drag this case for the moment and keep Phragres in custody. However, do not interrogate him. Moreover, keep that slave in prison for the time being…I will go and speak to judge Ardalus and ask him to give you some more time; I believe he would still give favour to this old man… Now, I am going to write a letter to his majesty, so you should hurry back and take care of your guard house.”
After seeing Theokases leave, Stromboli gazed down at the note on his desk with a sneer appearing on his wrinkled face, “Ladician, will you become the second Pollux?”
. . . . . . . . . . . .
Meanwhile, Antonios, the chief of the military of the kingdom of Theonia, sat in the courtyard with his nephew in his residence, talking with each other while enjoying delicious food.
By now, it was already evening, the night had just fallen, and the moon had risen. But in the courtyard were a dozen candles as thick as a toddler's army illuminating Antonios' residence. The crisp sound of laughter could be heard as three children chased each other and frolicked in the surrounding passages by the bright candlelight as the crisp sound of laughter continued.
