She refused to run. She must not appeared flustered when she met Kimon. The seafarers were increasing the pressure on her aunt. She would have only a few more days until her condition became known. And then what? She paused just before the entrance, drew a deep breath and adjusted the folds of her gown so that the folds fell in even pleats and her belt was snug about her hips. She had to appear the picture of calm and control. ‘Ah, Helena, you appear. I had expected to see your aunt.’ The tall pirate captain was in shadow, standing next to the libation bowl. Helena’s eye widened. He retained his sword. The gleam of the hilt. ‘I had requested to see the sibyl.’ ‘Weapons are not permitted in the temple grounds. It is sacrilege. You will not pollute this place.’ ‘These are dangerous times. There are dangerous men about.’ And you, one of the most dangerous. Helena held back the words. With an arrogant swagger, he walked over to the altar, lifted the lid of a jar and peered in.
