Diodorus said, ‘There’s more going on here than I expected. It’s not just the old bloods against the archon, either. My sense it that there are three, or even four factions. Does Athens support the archon? It’s not like Athens to support a tyrant, even in these decadent times.’
‘Athens needs the grain,’ said Coenus. ‘I heard a debate on granting citizenship to the tyrant of Pantecapaeum, once, in the assembly. It was all about grain subsidies.’ He rubbed his beard. ‘I thought your Nicomedes was a fine man, if a bit of a fop. I bored one of the older men with my erudition — laid it on a bit thick. Petrocolus, his name was. Fine old fellow.’
‘They’re a cautious lot,’ said Lykeles. ‘Hermes, they’re a close-mouthed crew — all except your Nicomedes. Handsome man. Did he run well?’
‘Better than I ever will, or want to,’ said Kineas.
‘Bit of a hothead, by local standards. I wonder how soon the archon will hear you are dining with him?’ asked Diodorus.
One of Memnon’s men was standing in the entryway to the barracks.
‘There’s your answer,’ said Kineas.
Kineas had to struggle to enjoy dinner with Nicomedes. His food was excellent and his wine passable, but the men around the circle of couches were either silent or spoke in what appeared to be a code.
Nicomedes’ house was colourful, decorated in the latest style, except for an antique mosaic over the floor of the main room, which showed Achilles killing the queen of the Amazons at Troy in grisly detail. His furnishings and his food were on par with the richest men in Athens.
Kineas revised his view of Olbia. The grain trade made these men very rich indeed.
He was introduced to Cleitus immediately — a short, dark-haired man with a long beard and deep-set eyes and a fair amount of grey hair — but he couldn’t seem to start a conversation with any of them. All of them lay alone to dine and the couches were set far enough apart that conversation was difficult. A trio of Nubian dancers reminded him uncomfortably that a bath wasn’t the only thing he hadn’t had in a long time, but they also served to kill any talk that might have sprung up after the main course.
Unable to leave his couch due to the prominence of his approval of the dancers, Kineas watched the other men, trying to identify why the situation seemed so normal and yet so alien. On the one hand, everything was just as it should be in a well-run Greek home — the men being served, the side dishes, fish sauce, wine on the sideboards, busy slaves. On the other hand, the silence was oppressive. Kineas tried to remember a time in Athens, even under the most repressive governments, that his father’s table had not rung with angry denunciations, violent protests, if only against the taxing of the rich, and political argument.
The last dishes were cleared away and more wine was brought. Without being asked, Kineas rose and pulled his own couch closer to that of Cleitus. Cleitus glanced at him while he moved his couch, but said nothing.
Kineas lay back down and held out his cup for filling. Nicomedes rose, said a prayer and poured a libation. The other guests added their own prayers and libations. Again, they behaved just like Greeks, but there was no ribaldry, no jokes, no suggestions. Odd.
‘Nicomedes,’ called Kineas. ‘I checked the rolls. You are listed for service in the cavalry.’
Nicomedes sat up on his couch. ‘By all the gods — well, I suppose it can’t be blamed on you. I can ride well enough — when is this muster?’
‘The day after the feast of Apollo, I believe. Cleitus — you are the hipparch?’
Cleitus shook his head. ‘I act as the hipparch. Only the assembly of the city can appoint the hipparch. They have not met… they have not… that is to say.’ Having gone so far, Cleitus halted and drank his wine.
Nicomedes smiled. ‘Cleitus doesn’t want to say it, but the council has not met since the archon dismissed them. Since then, the hipparch, Cleander, died. Cleitus does the duty.’
Kineas frowned at his wine cup. ‘So you are not the hipparch and I am not the hipparch. Who can command in such a situation?’
Cleitus glared at him, stung. ‘What is there to command? The last time I mustered, only sixteen men came with their horses and armour. Many others came on foot, to see and be seen.’
Kineas nodded. Athenian cavalry often showed the same contempt for authority. He had himself, once. ‘When were you last in the field?’
Nicomedes snorted. Cleitus actually blew some wine out his nose. ‘Field? In the field? What, against the Scyths? They’d eat our brains. The Getae? Another city? You must be joking.’
Kineas looked around the room. ‘Are you all Hippeis, then?’
The youngest man shook his head and declared that he fell far below the property qualification, although he had a horse and liked to ride. The rest were all of the cavalry class.
Kineas said carefully, ‘Wouldn’t it be better to have a well-trained, well-led body of cavalry in this city than a rabble of rich men?’
‘Better for your pay, perhaps,’ said Cleitus.
Nicomedes nodded. ‘Who would it serve? What faction would control this well-trained cavalry?’
‘For the good of the city,’ said Kineas.
They all laughed. But Nicomedes fingered his short blond beard thoughtfully.
All his life, Kineas had heard the phrase ‘for the good of the city’ used in a number of ways — with deliberate sarcasm, with political amorality; to flatter, to cajole, or to demand. He’d heard the phrase abused, but he’d never seen it ignored. Who are these men? he thought. What kind of city is this?
‘Have a good night?’ asked Diodorus when Kineas came into the barracks.
‘The wine was good. The company was a little dull — what are you reading? In fact, what are you doing in my rooms?’
‘It’s warmer here and I wanted to talk to you as soon as you came back. I thought that the archon told you to avoid Nicomedes?’
Kineas laughed mirthlessly. ‘Actually, the archon asked me to be careful in making friends. I always have been, so I chose to take his words as a compliment. You waited up to worry about my relations with the archon?’
‘No, this.’ Diodorus held up a scroll. ‘I had several letters from friends waiting for me, and you need to know the contents. Antipater has made Zopryon his satrap in Thrace. He’s putting gold and men into Thrace even now. They’re building an army there.’
‘Headed where?’
‘I can’t say for certain and neither can my sources. The word being given out is that it’s an army of reinforcements going out to the Conqueror.’
‘That could be true, certainly.’
‘They could be aimed here, too. These are rich lands and Antipater needs cash. Alexander may be conquering the world, but he hasn’t sent a lot of money home and Antipater has a lot of enemies. Look at Sparta.’
Kineas nodded. He pulled at his beard and started to pace the narrow confines of the chamber. ‘Is Sparta planning war?’
‘Sooner or later. What choice do they have? And Macedon is mighty, but they need money. What better place to get it but here?’ Diodorus made a rude gesture. ‘And there goes my bonus.’
‘If they are poor and yet sending money and men into Thrace, then the move can’t be far off. They won’t have the money to pay mercenaries for long.’ Kineas stopped and poured himself some wine. ‘Want a cup?’
‘Please. Until next summer, I expect.’
‘How many men?’
‘Two taxeis of phalanx, some mercenaries and some Thracians — perhaps fifteen thousand foot. Companions and Thessalian cavalry — perhaps four thousand horse.’
Kineas whistled. ‘We’d best get out of the way, then.’
Diodorus nodded. ‘That’s why I thought I should tell you immediately. You don’t seem surprised.’
Kineas shrugged. ‘You suggested as much at Tomis, just not in the same detail. And,’ after a minute’s hesitation: ‘I heard something about the possibility in Athens.’
Diodorus nodded. ‘Yes you denied any knowledge of it at the time.’
Kineas met his eyes and they stared at each other for three heartbeats.
‘I see. So that’s not open to discussion.’ Diodorus rubbed his forehead, clearly annoyed. ‘So what did the dinner guests say? You met the hipparch?’
