sea and back again in a saddlebag, but it was still legible.
The officer read it carefully, Kineas had time to wonder how many things might have gone wrong in six months — another man took the commission, the archon died, the city had changed government… The big man returned his letter. ‘Welcome to Olbia, Kineas of Athens. The archon hoped it was you, but we expected you by boat, many weeks ago.’ Now he was regarding Kineas carefully. Kineas knew the look — every officer in Alexander’s army watched his rivals just that way. Kineas stuck out his hand. ‘Kineas son of Eumenes, of Athens.’
The officer took his hand firmly. ‘Memnon, son of Petrocles. You served with the Conqueror?’
‘I did.’ Kineas motioned to his men to start unloading.
‘I was at Issus — but with the Great King.’ He turned and bellowed an order and his men brought their spears to the rest, then down butt first on to the ground. ‘Take your ease!’ he called. His voice was not as low as his size had led Kineas to expect and he gave his orders in a curious sing-song Greek. His men stopped being automatons and became quite human, dropping their heavy shields and pulling their cloaks around them, looking with undisguised curiosity at Kineas’s men.
Town slaves came from behind the hoplites and began to make bundles of their gear and place it on their heads. They were mostly Persians. Kineas watched them — he had seldom seen Persians used as slaves.
Memnon followed his interest. ‘The Great King made a foray against a local brigand a few years back and the result was a market glutted with Persians.’
Kineas nodded. ‘A Scythian brigand?’
Memnon smiled out of half his mouth. ‘Is there another kind?’
Kineas saw that Niceas, in betwen coughing fits, had the men currying the cold, wet horses on the spot — good. He put a hand on Niceas’s shoulder. ‘This is Niceas, my hyperetes. And Diodorus, my second in command.’ He looked through the group again. ‘Where is Philokles?’
‘He was just here,’ said Diodorus.
Memnon watched them all carefully. ‘One of your men is missing?’ Diodorus laughed. ‘I imagine he headed for the nearest wine-seller. We’ll find him.’ He gave Kineas a minute shrug.
Kineas interpreted the gesture to mean that Philokles was on an errand or had business of his own. Diodorus apparently knew what was happening. Kineas did not — so he merely said, ‘We’ll find him soon enough.’
‘Never mind, the archon is waiting.’ Memnon smiled unpleasantly. ‘He hates to be kept waiting.’
It took an hour for all of Kineas’s men to find their quarters. They had been put in the city’s hippodrome, in a newly-built barracks by the stables. The rooms were new but small and none of his men, least of all the gentlemen, was in a mood to be pleased.
He gathered them all in the stable. ‘Stay here, clean the place, get it warm and bathe. I want Niceas and Diodorus with me to attend the archon. The rest of you — this is where we are. I suggest you find a way to like it.’ He spoke sharply — perhaps more sharply than he meant. ‘And find the Spartan.’ Then, unbathed, he changed into a clean tunic, good sandals and combed his hair and beard.
In the entryway of the barracks he met with Diodorus, who looked clean and neat as a newly forged pin, and Niceas, who looked like a man with a serious head cold. A soldier and a town slave waited outside, the slave to carry anything that might be wanted, the soldier to take them to the archon.
The soldier led them to the town’s citadel, a stone-built tower with heavy bastions and walls a dozen feet thick. Memnon’s men guarded the entrance, forbidding in their cloaks. More of them guarded the closed doors at the end of a long, cold portico. The walls and the guards prepared Kineas to some extent for what awaited him. No archon of a free city needed mercenary guards, a citadel, and an antechamber. The archon of a free city would be at his house, or in the agora, doing business. And so he wasn’t surprised when the guards at the doors indicated that his men were not welcome. He gestured that they should wait for him and passed on. A guard took his sword — a barbarian in a torq.
Kineas watched the closed doors open and heard the clash of arms within — more guards — and followed his guide into a warm, dark room decorated in gold with a heavy hand: statues of the gods, their clothes picked out in gold; Persian hangings shot with gold thread; gold lamps suspended on chains from the ceiling that gave a faint gold light; an iron brazier with gold legs that glowed red and vented scented smoke; a gold screen; a table set with gold cups and a huge golden bowl. And behind the table, almost invisible in the scented murk, a man with a diadem was seated on a chair. Memnon stood behind him, his armour appearing to glow in the ruddy light. Flanking the man in the diadem stood a pair of heavily muscled men in lion skins, holding heavy clubs.
‘Kineas of Athens?’ The voice was soft, very quiet. The smoke from the brazier and the darkness made the voice appear to come from throughout the room, like the voice of a god. ‘You are late by fifty days.’ A soft laugh. ‘It is not easy to travel to the end of the earth, is it? Please, help yourself to the wine at your elbow. Tell me about your adventures.’
‘There is little to tell, Archon. I sought to bring my own horses and I have. I apologize for being late.’ Kineas found himself off balance. The incense in the smoke was cloying — it bit at his throat unpleasantly. And the men in skins — more barbarians — seemed to be a direct threat.
‘You have no need to apologize, young man. At least, for being late. These things can happen. Please tell me how you came here.’
‘I came by sea to Tomis and then by land with my horses.’
‘Come, young man. More detail.’
‘What can I say? We had a brush with some bandits. We met with a group of Sakje.’ Kineas was wary. He had the sense that a trap was being laid for him.
‘The bandits you fought were Getae, yes? Unfortunate that they are allies of this city. And the Sakje — truly, the worst bandits of the lot. You were lucky to escape with your skin.’
‘The Getae were a few men under a local leader. They attacked us for our horses.’ Kineas grabbed a handful of his beard as he often did when puzzled. ‘I had no idea they were allies of this city.’
‘Nor did they suspect that you were in my service. A most unfortunate circumstance. Still more unfortunate that you then turned the Sakje on them. They lost ten villages, burnt. We trade with the Getae and the Getae are allies of Macedon. You have hurt our trade.’ The archon rested his chin on his hand and looked up at Kineas. ‘And perhaps you did not know that my own family are of the Getae?’
Kineas winced. ‘I had no idea.’
‘A pity. and the Sakje — did they ask a toll of you?’
‘Archon, you seem already to know these things.’
‘Please answer the questions as they are put. You are in my service and the service of my city. We require your cooperation in all things.’
Kineas took a deep breath and coughed. Then he said, ‘The Sakje asked a toll. I paid it — two horses from my herd and some gold.’
‘And the lord of the Sakje — a red-bearded man?’
‘A woman, Archon.’
The archon’s surprise was evident. His voice became louder, more focused. ‘A woman? That I had not heard. That is interesting news. What was her name?’
Not for the first time Kineas regretted that he had not learned it. ‘I don’t know.’
‘A pity. It is my lot in life to follow the careers of these petty brigands. Often it becomes a matter of state security to know which of them is developing ambitions. Young man, we do not pay tolls to the brigands on the plains. Please be sure never to do so again. Ah — and I’m told you have one of them in your train. Please dismiss him.’
Kineas had kept his temper on a long leash, but he’d just reached the end of it. ‘I’m afraid you have sent for the wrong man, Archon,’ he snapped. ‘I am a gentleman of Athens, not a dog.’ He tossed the letter on the table. ‘Perhaps a dog can be ordered to dismiss his men in Olbia, but not an Athenian.’
The archon smiled. His teeth gleamed like ivory in the light. ‘Not so obedient. But loyal to your men. Will you be as loyal to me, I wonder?’ His tone changed, the smile folded and put away, the teeth gone back into the darkness. ‘You brought horses. Why? There are few things we need less, here. The brigands sell us what we need. They breed them like maggots. You came fifty days late and antagonized an ally so that you could get a few Greek horses into my city? That’s not good judgement. I only want men with good judgement.’
Kineas tried the wine and found it excellent. It cut through the smoke in his throat. ‘You do not have a single cavalry mount in the city stables.’
