The singer from Memphis

Review by Booklist Review

*Starred Review* It is 456 BCE and 100 years before the birth of Alexander the Great. Athenian special agent Nicolaos has accepted an assignment to escort Herodotus to Egypt to collect data for his history books. Nico has also been assigned by Pericles to make contact with a Pharaoh wannabe named Inaros. We sweep across a pirate-infested Aegean and arrive in an Egypt at war, encountering a crocodile-infested Nile, a displaced Trojan with a serious case of ancestor worship, a Spartan assassin who would rather be a stand-up comic, treacherous cat-worshipping public officials, mummy curses, and not a drop of wine to be had. Just beer. Inaros, it turns out, is in the midst of a power struggle and needs Nico's help to establish his right to the throne of Egypt and unseat the Persian occupiers. An excellent blend of historical and fictional characters and events lends an authenticity to Nico's witty, first-person account. His contemporary tone moves the action along at a stunning pace. This sixth in the series is sure to amuse Lindsey Davis and Elizabeth Peters fans. Corby provides a generous endnote that enhances the reader's understanding of a complex man in a complex time. Despite Nico's cynical camouflage, he is a true humanist, perhaps due to the influence of both his wife, Diotima, a venerated philosopher, and, of course, his younger brother, Socrates. Diotima also functions as an Athenian Wonder Woman on an as-needed basis. Even if she can't swim.--Murphy, Jane Copyright 2016 Booklist

From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.

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Review by Publisher's Weekly Review

Early in Corby's exceptional sixth novel set in ancient Greece (after 2015's Deus Ex Machina), Pericles, the most powerful man in Athens, asks Nicolaos, "the only private agent" in the city-state, to accompany the historian Herodotus on a trip to Egypt. Ostensibly, Nicolaos will serve as a bodyguard, but his real mission is to aid Egyptians rebelling against Persian rule. The rebels' leader, Inaros, who claims to be descended from the last pharaoh, has asked for a "man of cunning and resource" to help take the city of Memphis, the last stronghold controlled by the enemy. Pericles shares his suspicions with Nicolaos that Herodotus may be a spy in the employ of the Persians. Later, pirates almost scuttle the journey to Egypt, and Nicolaos nearly loses his client to a master Spartan assassin. Eventually, Nicolaos must solve a murder, but this is more spy thriller than whodunit. Corby's trademark blend of humor, fascinating historical detail, and accessible presentation of the politics of the time has never been better. Agent: Janet Reid, FinePrint Literary. (May) © Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.

(c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved

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Review by Library Journal Review

Historian Herodotus hires Nicolaos and his wife, the priestess Diotima, to assist him in writing a book. They travel to Egypt to do research, but is Herodotus's true purpose espionage? Egypt is in revolt against the Persian Empire, and Nico has to evade assassins. Corby's sixth sprightly outing (after Death ex Machina) blends humor with fascinating details about the ancient world. © Copyright 2016. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

(c) Copyright Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

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Review by Kirkus Book Review

A wry sleuth accompanies a historian on the brink of fame to Egypt, where rebellion, murder, and wisecracks are in full flower in 450 B.C.E. Nicolaos, "the only private investigator in ancient Athens," gets a surprise visit from aspiring historian Herodotus. He plans a research trip to Egypt, where, backed by Athens, the locals have risen up against their Persian overlords and need a bodyguard. Nico's mentor, the politician Pericles, warns him that Herodotus might be a Persian spy but advises taking the job. If Herodotus is a spy, Pericles advises, "kill him." And so the journey begins, Herodotus accompanied by a large retinue and Nico by his wife, Diotima, a priestess. Their course takes them into the colorful heart of the conflict, richly depicted in Nico's arch first-person narrative. They run afoul of pirates and require rescue by the Athenian fleet, interview the rebel leader Inaros, who claims to be the prince of Libya, and receive aid from Maxyates, a surprisingly erudite barbarian who claims Troy as his homeland. Nico is none too happy to run into the duplicitous Barzanes, the eyes and ears of the King of Persia, an established nemesis from his previous adventures (Death Ex Machina, 2015, etc.). The murder of a general, tied to the pharaoh's valuable crook and flail, adds a new wrinkle to the excursion and raises its stakes. Is it just a coincidence that both Barzanes and Max are on the scene as Nico investigates? Corby's latest is brisk, cheeky, and full of well-researched historical tidbits. Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

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Chapter 1 AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR "Master, there's a man at the door who wants to see you. He says his name is Herodotus."      I looked up from my cup of wine. The house slave stood over me, awaiting my instructions on what to do with the visitor.     I relaxed on a dining couch, under the stars in our courtyard, on a fine evening, in the quiet company of my family. I had no wish to be disturbed. I especially didn't want to be disturbed by a stranger.     "I've never heard of him," I said. I turned to my wife and asked, "Honey, do we know a Herodotus?"     My wife, Diotima, lay on the dining couch beside mine. She looked up from the wax tablet on which she scribbled notes, because she had taken it into her head to write a book of philosophy. Diotima chewed on the end of her stylus while she thought about it.     "Never heard of him," she said.     I turned to my younger brother. "How about you, Socrates?"     He was reading a scroll. He tore his attention away long enough to say, "No." Then he returned to his scroll.     The slave spoke up again. "Master, the man says he's from Halicarnassus."     Ah, that explained it. Halicarnassus is a city far away, on the other side of the Aegean Sea.     "He's a tourist to Athens then," I said. "Give him directions to the agora and tell him to go away."     But Master, he says he has work for you!" the house slave said.     That made me sit up.     "Then why in Hades couldn't you say so at once? Show him in." The visitor sat opposite me, in our andron , the room at the front of the house reserved for male guests, which I also used for business. He had a glass of wine in his hand and a bowl of olives by his side. He sipped the wine but ignored the olives. I studied him closely, because it is always wise to know a client, or a potential client.     Herodotus was a man not much older than myself. He could not have been more than twenty-six. He wore a beard of a conservative cut, which oddly he had ringleted in the Persian manner. His clothes were of fine linen. He wore the ankle-length chiton of a gentleman who had no need of manual labor to earn his living. Yet his sandals were of the heaviest workman leather, and his feet showed the sort of calluses that you would expect to see on a veteran soldier.     The overall effect was a man who was both young and old, Greek and Persian, rich and poor. This man, I decided, cultivated contradictions.     I asked our visitor what I could do to help him.     He said, "I require an escort for my safety. You were recommended to me."     I am the only private agent in Athens. I was used to hearing requests like this. I had once gained some notoriety when I protected a woman who sought a divorce. Her violent husband had proven a genuine threat. Yet it seemed odd to me that a healthy man like Herodotus should admit he couldn't defend himself. Nor did he look like a coward. I asked the obvious question.     "Do you have any enemies?"     "None," Herodotus said. "But where I am going, I will require protection nonetheless."     "And where is that?" I asked.     Herodotus set down his cup. He leaned forward, and said, "I want you to be my personal escort when I travel to Egypt."     I was startled. What Herodotus proposed was a very long journey. I knew right away that I would have trouble avoiding this commission, even if I wanted to. Diotima loved to travel. Besides which, my wife was a philosopher, and Egypt was the land of ancient wisdom.     There was only one problem. I voiced it.     "But there's a war on there."     Everyone knew about the war. The people of Egypt had risen up against their Persian overlords. When the rebels had called for help, Athens had instantly dispatched a fleet of two hundred triremes to assist our new friends, because anyone who kills Persians can't be all bad. We'd done enough of it ourselves, when the Persians had attacked Hellas thirty-five years before. Now there were three armies roaming across the land of the Pharaohs.     "Yes, precisely. That's why I need the escort," Herodotus said.     "Sir, I'm a private agent, not a small army."     "But it's you I need," Herodotus said earnestly. "If you are with me, then I'll have a safe passage through any territory controlled by the Athenians. The Egyptians are your allies and I am a Hellene; they will not trouble us."     "What about the Persians?" I asked.     "My native city might be Hellene, but Halicarnassus is a client state of the Persian Empire," Herodotus said. "I am technically one of their citizens. Thus with you to escort me, I will have safe passage everywhere."     I thought about it for a moment.     "Where do you want to go in Egypt?" I asked.     "Everywhere," he said simply.     "The place is bigger than all of Hellas!"     "Everywhere that I reasonably can," Herodotus corrected himself. "You need to understand that I am embarking on a noble course, for I am writing a book."     I wasn't impressed. "Isn't everyone?" I said, thinking of Diotima in the courtyard, scribbling away.     Herodotus looked at me strangely. "This is a book of . . . histories , I suppose you would say."     "A book of inquiries?" I repeated.     "Just so." Herodotus nodded.     "You're a playwright then," I said.     "No," Herodotus said. "The stories I'll be telling are all true." Herodotus spoke more quickly, with excitement. "My plan is to set down in writing the history of the wars between the Hellenes and the Persians!"     He spoke as if I should instantly recognize the genius of this idea.     After a short pause I asked, "Why bother?"     "So that the deeds of men will not be forgotten in time," he said. "This conflict between us and the Persians is the greatest war since the Trojan. It deserves to be remembered."     I had my doubts. Why would anyone care about our war more than any other? But that wasn't my problem. "Let me see if I understand. You want to go to a war zone, not to fight, but so you can write about it?"     "You understand," Herodotus said, unaware that with those words he brought his sanity into question.     "How did you hear of me?" I asked. I wanted to know what person thought I was crazy enough to do this.     "You were recommended, as I said before," Herodotus told me. "I was speaking to your head man here in Athens--"     "Pericles?" I said, surprised. Pericles had never in his life done a man a favor that didn't have something in it for himself. The mention of Pericles made me instantly suspicious.     "Yes," Herodotus said. "I met Pericles the other night, at a symposium. I told him of my plans and asked his advice. Pericles said you would be just the man to lead me around Egypt. He was most helpful."     "I'm sure he was." I rubbed my chin. "Well, Herodotus, I thank you for your proposal. To travel to Egypt is a long undertaking. I'm sure you understand that I must think on this. Does it suit if I give you my answer tomorrow?"     "That would be wise." Herodotus nodded gravely. He indicated my cup of wine. "I recommend that you get drunk tonight."     "Oh? Why do you say that?" I asked, for though I thought his advice sound, it did seem a little unusual.     Herodotus said, "I merely suggest to you the custom of another land. In Persia, when a weighty matter is to be decided, the men consider it first when they're drunk, and then again when they are sober the next morning. If their plan seems good when both drunk and sober, then they proceed with it."     I had lived among the Persians. Not once had I ever seen them do such a thing.     "Thank you for your advice, Herodotus," I said, showing him to the door. "I will give this assignment every consideration."     What I didn't say was that first thing in the morning I would be at Pericles's house, to find out what he was up to. Excerpted from The Singer from Memphis by Gary Corby All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.

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