Saxa said. Even half-dazed by the dream of his conversation with the corpse, Varus felt his lips lift in a tiny smile. His father was so proud to be able to claim Priscus as a friend. A man as wealthy as Saxa could easily have scraped acquaintance with military, political, or social leaders. What he had wanted, however, was to join those whom he regarded as truly wise, the only group which could not be bought with money. The disasters threatening his family and the world had at least allowed Saxa to achieve his greatest ambition. “He pointed out that Hedia’s disappearance,” Saxa said, “and that of Master Pandareus as well, of course, weren’t the start of this business. It started with the vision of the monster that we saw in the theater.” He cleared his throat and added in a small voice, “I talked to Meoetes, you see. The climax of the mime wasn’t his doing after all. It was a real vision that surprised him as much it did the rest of us. In fact—” Saxa smiled ruefully.
