Tyrant (31 page)
Authors: Christian Cameron
Kineas sighed. He had enjoyed days on the plains without any burden of command beyond his handful of promising boys. He felt as if all of Niceas’s burdens had shifted squarely on to his own shoulders. He kicked his heels and his sturdy pony, one of the king’s gifts, trotted back down the hill towards the column.
‘How are the rest?’ Kineas asked.
‘Pretty fair. Bored. This patrol had everyone volunteering. Diodorus put everything off limits except the gymnasium and the hippodrome until your return.’ Niceas chuckled. ‘We’ve acquired some whores. Diodorus bought the services of a hetaera.’
Kineas congratulated Diodorus in his mind. ‘Where’d they come from?’ he asked. They were approaching the king and Marthax, who were laughing with Ajax and Eumenes.
Niceas glanced away. ‘Oh - here and there, I guess,’ he said evasively.
Kineas made a note to himself to find out, and then saluted the king. ‘O King - I am required in the city.’ Ajax made room, and Kineas brought his horse alongside the king’s.
Satrax nodded. ‘Then let us go faster,’ he said, and set his horse to a gallop. Every Sakje in the party did the same, and the Greeks had to scramble to keep up.
For the first time, Kineas saw the full measure of the Sakje as horsemen. They galloped their horses for an hour, halted, and every man switched horses, and they were off again. It was a pace that would have broken a troop of Greek cavalry in two hours, but with their herd of remounts and their unflagging energy, the Sakje rode at a gallop for three hours, pausing once to drink unwatered wine and piss in the snow. They left their wagons and half their party to come along at the pace of the oxen. Before the sun was three fists from the horizon, the whole party was passing over the city’s boundary ditch and through the outer fields of the Greek and Sindi farmers.
‘Fast enough for you, Kineas?’ asked the king, reining in. ‘I’d prefer to arrive without all my horses blown.’
Kineas’s legs felt like hot lead had been poured down his thighs. His Olbian boys were all still with them, but the moment the cavalcade stopped, every one of them dismounted and began to rub his thighs. The horses steamed.
The Sakje merely pulled out their wineskins and drank. Next to the king, Marthax opened his barbarian trousers and pissed in the snow without dismounting. His horse did the same.
Kineas rode back to his own men. ‘Ten stades, my friends. Let’s finish with the same spirit we had at the start. Backs straight, good seat, and a javelin in your fist. Niceas?’
Even the hyperetes looked tired from the last three hours. ‘Sir?’
‘Check their gear. Helmets, I think. Look sharp!’ Kineas rode back to the horses and exchanged his pony for his warhorse, who seemed happy to see him. He didn’t feel too sharp himself, but as he rode he pulled his freezing helmet off his pack and pushed it on to the back of his head. Eumenes rode up and handed him a javelin.
Marthax rode up beside him. ‘King says - fear what?’
Kineas had gotten to know a little of Marthax on the ride. He was a relation to Srayanka, and he had a little Greek. He seemed to be the king’s steward, or his closest companion, despite the age difference. Marthax was a warrior in his prime, or perhaps past it. Kineas suspected he was the King’s warlord.
‘I’ll tell the king. Let’s go.’ Kineas hadn’t mastered much of the Sakje tongue beyond simple congnates of Persian he already knew, but he had gotten the knack of speaking simple Greek to the Greek speakers and to Hades with subtlety.
Ataelus was sitting on his horse beside the king. ‘I have for the town gate. And back,’ he said. He held up an arrow. ‘Got this for greeting.’
Kineas pushed his horse into the king’s group. ‘I can explain, O King. The town is in some turmoil. I am overdue, and Niceas had told me a rumour was spread that - that we were killed. On the plain.’
Satrax gave him a level look. ‘But all of your men are arming.’
‘For show, sir. Only for the show.’
Marthax spoke quickly in Sakje, and there were grunts from the other warriors. Ataelus pushed his horse to Kineas’s side. ‘For going home. For not trust city. Trust you, he says, trust not city. For telling king he told all this before.’
Kineas raised his voice over the murmurs of the Sakje nobles. ‘If we move now, Satrax, we will be in the city before dark and we’ll quell these rumors. If we wait a day . . .’ He shrugged.
Satrax nodded. He spoke in Sakje, and Dikarxes, a noble of the king’s age, spoke, and then Marthax spoke, clearly in agreement. The king nodded, and turned to Kineas. ‘We’ll wait here for the wagons. If you’ll be so kind as to send one of your men to get permission from the farmer. We’ll make our camp by the first bend in the river - where the horse market is held.’
Kineas glanced at the rapidly setting sun. ‘I had thought to take you to the city.’
‘Best you go ahead. Dikarxes and Marthax agree - a horde of bandits like ourselves might get a grim reception.’ He extended his hand and clasped Kineas’s hand. ‘You look worried, my friend. Go attend to this, and come fetch us in the morning. In truth, your city makes us nervous. I think we will be happier to camp in the snow.’
Kineas shook his head. ‘You shame me, O King. And yet I fear that your decision is a wise one. Look for me in the morning.’ He rode back to his own men. ‘Gather round,’ he said, and they pressed close. ‘The king will camp here. The city is nervous - some fool has spread a rumour we’re all dead. We’ll go to the city, but the king needs a man to guarantee the good behaviour of the farmers. Remember that to them, he’s a dangerous bandit.’
He could see at a glance that they’d taken it in. They were good boys, and every one of them had matured in two weeks on the plains. He went on, ‘I need a volunteer to spend another night in the snow with them.’ Ataelus immediately waved his hand, but Kineas continued, ‘I’d prefer one of the citizens.’
They all clamoured to volunteer. He was impressed. ‘Eumenes. And Clio. My thanks to both of you. I want you to ride around to every farmer in ten stades, tell them who is camping at the bend in the river, and why. Take all your slaves - make a show, and don’t take any crap from the farmers.’
Eumenes seemed to grow a hand span. ‘Yes, sir. Clio’s father owns this farm and the next. I don’t expect we’ll have much trouble.’
Clio, who had matured the most of all the boys, saluted. ‘No problem at all, sir. Please tell my father I’m at Gade’s Farm.’
Kineas pointed his heavy whip at Ataelus. ‘You stay with them. Help them translate. Make sure anything taken is paid for. And stay sober. If I don’t come back in the morning, stay sharp. I’ll return as soon as I can.’ He shook hands with all three of them. Finally he said to Eumenes, ‘You are in charge.’
Eumenes glowed. ‘Thank you, sir.’
‘Thank me when you see me again.’
Behind him, Ajax was forming the rest of the Greeks. Niceas formed as a simple trooper, allowing Ajax to be the hyperetes, just as the younger man had done for the past two weeks. The two Syracusans, Antigonus and Andronicus, had come out with Niceas, and they formed the next file, equally willing to allow Ajax to command.
Kineas pulled up beside Philokles while Ajax checked equipment and inspected.
‘You’re leaving the two boys as hostages,’ Philokles said.
‘Nothing so brutal,’ Kineas said. ‘They’ll have a fine time, and the king and his men won’t feel that we abandoned them amidst a horde of terrified Sindi farmers.’
The Spartan shrugged. ‘You are worried about what the archon intends. ’ Kineas nodded. Philokles spat in the snow. ‘Ajax makes a good hyperetes.’
‘He’s had good teachers.’ Kineas worried that all of them in armour would frighten the city watch into some action, but it was too late, and the die was cast. ‘Ajax, are we ready to ride?’
Ajax raised his fist to his breastplate. ‘At your command, sir.’
Kineas took the lead spot, and waved his whip. ‘Let’s ride,’ he said.
He prayed to Hermes and to Apollo as he rode, asking that they preserve the peace. He worried that the tyrant had done something, said something, to provoke so much anguish and fear that a city man had fired an arrow at Ataelus. And he worried what the archon intended for the Sakje. And for his men.
He had lots to worry about.
The sun set red on the city, and their jingling column rode down out of the hills of the isthmus. Peasants, slaves and farmers came out to the edge of their fields despite the cold, and word spread like lightning, so that by the time they approached the suburb beyond the city’s fortifications, the streets were lined with people bundled in cloaks and blankets.
Kineas feared mischief, feared an accident - considered assassination, cursed his imagination. He wasn’t sure what he was afraid of, but he was afraid. He turned to Niceas. ‘You have the best lungs. Ride ahead and announce us - first to the crowd, then at the gate. The hipparch and hippeis of the city return from an embassy to the king of the Assagatje. Got it?’
Niceas nodded once, and kneed his horse into motion.
Kineas turned to Ajax at his side. ‘Let us walk our horses slowly, as if in a temple procession. But Ajax - tell your men to watch the crowd and watch the roofs. Antigonus - watch the rear.’
Slowly, they walked through the suburb. In the distance, he could hear Niceas’s voice roaring at the gate.
‘Do you know the Paean of Apollo?’ he asked. The five boys all nodded. ‘Sing it!’ he said.
There were only a dozen of them all told, but they made a good show, and the young voices carried, so that before they entered the last narrow, muddy street, the crowd had taken up the Paean. There was cheering.
The main gate was open, and Kineas offered thanks to Zeus. Two files of Memnon’s mercenaries lined the road inside the gate, and his second officer, Licurgus, saluted with his spear. Kineas’s fears began to calm. He returned the salute.
Niceas fell in by his side. ‘Memnon wants to speak to you at your earliest convenience. In secret.’
Kineas kept his eyes on the crowd, which was even thicker inside the city walls. ‘That can’t be good.’
‘I laid out a few obols to send boys to the homes of your lads. So their fathers would know,’ Niceas said.
‘Thanks,’ Kineas said. The crowd was thick, and the street narrow at the best of times. The little column had to ride single file, and they had to be attentive to avoid trampling children under their hooves. It was the largest crowd Kineas had seen since the festival of Apollo, made ominous by the loom of night and the narrow streets.
Kineas scanned the rooftops again. There were people on the flatter roofs, but they seemed to be watching the spectacle. ‘Why are we getting this hero’s welcome?’ he asked.
Niceas grunted and shrugged. ‘There’s a rumour on the streets that you’re going to overthrow the archon,’ he said. When Kineas whirled on him, he shrugged again. ‘Don’t blame the messenger - but I’ve heard it often enough. It makes you quite popular.’
‘Athena protect me,’ Kineas muttered.
They tried to watch the crowd and the roofs as they picked their way through the streets. They were careful.
Nothing untoward occurred. They rode through the gates of the hippodrome to find a smaller assembly - gentlemen of the city, many mounted and in armour. And the rest of Kineas’s men, also mounted and armed, with Cleitus and Diodorus at their head.
Diodorus looked as relieved as Kineas felt. They clasped hands, and Diodorus waved to his little troop to dismount. Cleitus smiled ruefully. ‘I guess we’re a bunch of worried hens,’ he said. He took off his helmet and gave it to his son, Leucon.
Fathers were embracing their sons. Young Kyros dismounted to regale a circle of family retainers with his adventures. Sophokles was embracing his father, and the word ‘Amazon’ carried clearly and echoed off the stone seats above them.
Nicomedes was there, mounted on a magnificent horse and wearing a breastplate worth more than all of Kineas’s possessions. He gave Kineas a wry smile.
Kineas could feel that something -
something
was right on the edge of explosion. All these men - mounted and armed, with full night just moments away.
something
was right on the edge of explosion. All these men - mounted and armed, with full night just moments away.
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