question.
‘Did it rain? Not yesterday.’ Kineas looked back at the column breasting the slope. ‘Your people — will they harm us?’
Ataelus slapped his chest. ‘Not for me.’ He grinned. ‘To go find them?’
Kineas pointed. ‘You are going to find them? And come back? Back to us?’
Ataelus nodded. ‘Find for them, come back for you.’
Kineas nodded. ‘I want to keep moving.’ He gestured at the column. ‘Keep moving?’
‘Come back for you,’ said Ataelus, still grinning. He waved at the column, turned his horse and rode off, heading north.
Kineas pulled his horse’s head back towards the column and ambled over to Niceas, who was watching the Scyth ride.
‘He’s found some of his own, and he’s going to meet them. Then he’ll come back. At least, that’s what I think he’s saying.’
Niceas swatted a fly with his hand. ‘More like Ataelus? All in a band? That’ll be exciting. Ares wept — mutter a prayer we don’t annoy them. Look at the fucking tracks!’
Kineas’s eyes followed Niceas’s pointing hand. They were riding over the ground that Ataelus must have spotted, a low trough between two hills that had the prints of hundreds of horses, all moving together. He realized that he was holding his breath.
‘Two hundred horses, easy.’ Niceas swatted at the fly pestering his horse’s neck, caught it and crushed it between his fingers, then flung the corpse of the thing from him in disgust. ‘Better hope they’re friendly, Captain.’
They rode the rest of the day without incident, it was a sunny, pleasant day on the plains. Water was sparser than Kineas had expected and with Ataelus gone, he had to use Lykeles as a scout for a camp. He came back late, near dusk.
‘Nothing but the beach,’ he said. ‘There’s a trickle of water coming in — enough to water us and the horses if we don’t foul it. It’s not much. I’ve been fifteen stades.’
Kineas nodded. ‘See any tracks?’
Lykeles nodded. ‘We’re following them, like as not. Next ridge over — it’s like the path to a horse fair.’
It was near dark by the time they dismounted. The tents bloomed immediately; the horses were hobbled close in. Antigonus and Laertes took first watch immediately and stayed mounted.
The slaves collected driftwood on the beach for a fire while Kineas debated with himself. A fire was a clear signal for many miles, especially on the shore of the bay. On the other hand, Ataelus seemed confident that his people were no threat. And yet — Ataelus was a barbarian, for all his qualities.
Nonetheless, Kineas gave Arni the nod and watched him use a steel to raise sparks on charred linen for the fire. On balance, two hundred horses’ worth of bow-wielding Scythians would obliterate them if it came to that, a force so strong compared with his own that it really wasn’t worth worrying about.
As the flames rose, however, he watched them and worried anyway.
Niceas had put him on watch with Ajax at dawn. Ajax didn’t avoid him any more, but he was distant, careful, different from the eager youth of the first mornings. On the other hand, he knew his business now, and he posted himself on a low ridge above the beach without the exchange of a word. Kineas curried the horses. There were twenty-eight of them, a good string for twelve men and three slaves. He curried his charger first and then his riding horse, then Niceas’s horses, and then all the other chargers. Diodorus was up by then. He woke the slaves and roused the fire and then lent a hand to the horses. They were all up, the work done, their cloaks rolled and the baggage loaded before the sun’s chariot was full over the rim of the world. The beach stretched away in a curve for a dozen stades, and Niceas elected to follow it. He wanted to cross a decent stream and get water for the horses. Water was his current worry. He waved to Ajax on the ridge above them, who waved back. Lykeles left the column and rode to join the young man and the pair of them flanked the column as they rode along the beach.
They crossed two tiny rivulets in the sand, too easily fouled by the first horses to reach them. By the third, he was more careful, sending dismounted men to lead their mounts one at a time to drink, digging a pit in the sand for flow and letting it fill. It still wasn’t a good drink. He sent Laertes riding up the beach for water. It felt odd to be so worried when the hillsides were damp between tufts of grass and their flank was covered by the sea, but the smaller horses were already flagging.
Laertes returned at noon. ‘Decent sized river at the bottom of the bay. Plenty of water, fresh as fresh. Lots of hoof marks, too.’
‘Good job.’ Kineas rode back along the column. ‘Right, no lunch, gentlemen. We’ll push through.’
‘There’s another of these little streams in a few stades,’ added Laertes.
‘Hades! We lose time every time and the horses scarcely get a drink worth a mention. Straight through. How many stades to this river?’
‘Twenty. I had a hard ride.’
‘A morning gallop over the sand!’
‘Fair enough, Captain.’ Laertes grinned his characteristic grin and pushed his big straw hat back on his head. ‘You’ll be there by late afternoon at this rate.’
‘Then we’ll camp there.’
Ajax caught his attention, waving his hat from the ridge. Lykeles rode for them flat out, his seat far back on his horse’s rump as she descended the ridge.
‘Company coming,’ Kineas said. His men were at the base of a steep ridge, with the sea at their backs, on jaded horses that needed water. ‘Armour and chargers. Now!’
He swung down from his riding horse and got his helmet and breastplate from bags on a packhorse. Other men and horses nudged him, bumped him — the column was in chaos. He hoped that it would sort itself out.
Lykeles shouted from his left. Kineas had his breast and back plates fastened and was wrestling with the leather cords that padded the crown of his helmet. It was already growing warm from the sun, promising to bake his head in a few minutes.
‘Scythians!’ Lykeles called. ‘Hundreds of them!’
Kineas used his heavy javelin to lever himself up on to his charger. ‘Where’s Ataelus?’
‘No sign of him.’
Kineas got his seat, always difficult in armour, and managed to gain control of both of his reins. Crax appeared out of the dust and picked up his javelins and handed them up.
Kineas pointed to the baggage horse with more javelins. ‘You want to be free?’ he asked. Crax nodded. ‘Take my riding horse, mount it, and take a pair of javelins and form on me. You are now a free man.’
Crax was gone into the dust before he was done speaking.
‘Two ranks on me! Form up!’ Kineas yelled. The beach sand was kicking up with all the activity and he couldn’t see. The damned helmet didn’t help. He folded the cheek pieces back and tipped it up on his head. Lykeles had fallen in and Niceas next to him, and now others were coming up at speed. Crax pulled in behind him, clumsy at keeping in formation like any new man, but a born rider.
Lykeles hadn’t bothered with his helmet. He turned to Crax. ‘Welcome to the Hippeis, boy!’ and to Kineas, ‘You freed him?’
Kineas felt a particular joy on him and the whisper of the god was clear; freeing the boy had been the right act. ‘He made a lousy slave,’ Kineas barked, and all the men laughed.
Ajax finished a headlong flight down the ridge and pulled up on the left of the line. At the top of the ridge there was a rustle of movement and the laughing stopped. Then, in the blink of an eye, the ridge was full of horses and riders, the flash of coloured harnesses and the unmistakable gleam of gold repeated again and again so that the whole host of them glittered in the sun, which also flashed off iron armour and bronze and spear points.
‘Blessed Athena stand with us now in the hour of our need,’ intoned Lykeles at his side.
Niceas cursed, profane and long.
Kineas felt their appearance like a blow. They were more splendid than any Persian cavalry he had ever seen, and better mounted. They made his fourteen riders look poor and cheap.
Too bad, he thought. Better to have died on the boy king’s campaign.
Nonetheless. ‘Silence. Sit at attention. Don’t twitch. Be Greeks!’ Persians had always been impressed by displays of discipline, especially when facing odds. Kineas slammed his helmet down on the crown of his head and
