more than war. That we are soft. That our only place is in their empire.’ He raised his voice. ‘But I say, what is more beautiful than this — to serve with your comrades, to stand beside them when the shields ring?’ And quoting the Poet, he said, ‘“My friends, Argives one and all — good, bad and indifferent, for there was never a fight yet, in which all were of equal prowess — there is now work enough, as you very well know, for all of you. See that you none of you turn in flight, daunted by the shouting of the foe, but press forward and keep one another in heart, if it may so be that Olympian Zeus the lord of lightning will grant us to repel our foes, and drive them away from our city.”’
The sound of the familiar words, Ajax’s famous speech that schoolboys learned by heart, drew a response, and they cheered — first the hoplites, and then all of them, so that the hoplites banged their shields with their spears and the horsemen’s swords rang against their breastplates — an ominous sound, the cheer of Ares.
Kineas wasn’t used to being cheered. He felt the daimon that infected him in combat, so that his chest was full and he felt more alive and he wondered if this was the feeling Alexander had every day.
Then he turned his head, embarrassed, and called to Niceas who trotted out of the ranks to him. ‘Sound: All Captains.’
Niceas blew the trumpet. The troop commanders and their hyperetes trotted out of the cheering ranks and halted in a neat line.
‘Gentlemen,’ Kineas began. He pulled his helmet off and wiped his eyes. Several of the officers did the same.
Nicomedes looked around him dry-eyed and said, ‘No wonder they call Greeks emotional.’
Memnon walked up in his big black cloak. ‘Good speech. Fucking good speech. Let’s go kill something.’
Kineas cleared his throat while the other men chuckled. ‘I’m off for the sea of grass. Memnon has the command while I’m away — Diodorus has the command of the hippeis.’ He looked them over. ‘Listen to me, gentlemen. The archon is now a desperate man — he fears this war just about as much as he fears you. I ask you to be careful in what you say or do in the assembly. I ask you not to provoke him in my absence — indeed, I ask you not to provoke him until we’ve seen the back of Zopryon.’
Memnon spat. Cleitus nodded. Nicomedes made a face. He shrugged and said, ‘But that’s my hobby!’
Kineas met his gaze and stared him down. ‘Make the command of your troop your hobby.’ He collected their eyes and went on. ‘Don’t fool yourselves that because we have a competent troop of horse and some good hoplites we have an army. Zopryon has an army. We have a tithe of his strength. Only if the Sakje agree to our plan will we have the power to face Zopryon. Even with the Sakje — even if the king sends all his strength — we will be hard pressed to save our city.’
Ajax coloured, but his voice carried conviction. ‘I felt a god at my shoulder while you spoke,’ he said.
Kineas shrugged. ‘I cannot speak of gods, though I revere them. But I can say that I have known a handful of good men to shatter an army of multitudes. Your men look good. Make them better. Don’t let them forget what is coming — neither make them fear it so that they take a ship and sail away. That is what I had planned to say this morning but other words were set in my throat.’ He didn’t say that the small army had been Macedonian, and the multitudes had been the Medes.
Kineas turned to Diodorus. ‘I’ll take the first troop, as we discussed. Will you continue without us?’
‘I have a long day planned,’ Diodorus said with a wicked smile. ‘I’m sure that most of them will wish they were crossing the sea of grass with you by the time the sun is setting. Travel well!’
They told each other to go with the gods, and they clasped hands. And then Kineas and all of the first troop changed from their warhorses to their lighter mounts, formed a column, and rode off on the track north to the waiting grass.
Kineas had all the younger men, with Leucon in command and a sober Eumenes as his hyperetes. Cleomenes had taken ship and deserted, leaving his son an empty house and a ruined reputation. Eumenes bore it. In fact, he seemed happier — or freer.
Kineas told them that they would live rough, and he meant it. They had just ten slaves for fifty men. Kineas had arranged that all the slaves were mounted.
Like the first trip to find the Sakje, he kept them busy from the moment they left Diodorus, sending parties of scouts out into the grass, making mock attacks on empty sheep folds, skirmishing against a bank of earth that rose from the plain, the soil visible as a black line, until the dirt was full of javelins and Eumenes made the required joke about sewing dragon’s teeth and reaping spears.
Kineas was eager to go forward to the great bend, eager to meet Srayanka, and yet hesitant, as all his doubts of the winter flooded him. Would the city hold behind him? Would the archon stay steady? Would the citizens desert?
Had his anticipations of meeting the Lady Srayanka exceeded the reality?
Fifty young men with a hundred times as many questions did a great deal to distract him, as did Memnon, whose questions rivalled the whole multitude of the rest. By the end of the first day, Kineas felt like a boxer who had spent a whole day parrying blows.
‘You ask too many questions,’ Kineas growled at the Spartan.
‘You know, you are not the first man to say as much,’ Philokles said with a laugh. ‘But I’m doing you a service, and you should thank me.’
‘Bah — service.’ Kineas watched his scouts moving a few stades in advance of the column — a passable skirmish line.
‘If it weren’t for me, you’d do nothing but moon for your amazon.’ Philokles laughed. ‘Not bad — I hadn’t even intended the pun.’
Kineas was watching the scouts. Beyond them, there was a flash of red — Ataelus’s cap? He summoned Leucon and ordered him to pull the column together — the boys had a natural tendency to straggle. Then he turned back to Philokles. ‘Did you say something?’
The big man shook his head. ‘Only the best joke I’ve made in… never mind.’
Kineas reined in and looked out under his hand. It was Ataelus for sure. ‘Tell me again?’
Philokles pursed his lips and shook his head. ‘You know, some things have to be taken on the bound or not at all.’
Kineas narrowed his eyes. ‘What are you talking about? Hunting?’
Philokles raised his hands, as if demanding the intercession of the gods, and then turned his horse and went back to the column.
They camped in the open, where a small brook had cut a deep gully across the plain. The miniature valley was full of small trees and bigger game, and Eumenes led three of his friends in cutting down a big doe. Like gentlemen, they made sure she was barren before they killed her — killing a gravid doe in spring would be a bad omen, or worse, an offence. The doe didn’t feed seventy men, but the fresh meat served to season their rations. The evening had more the air of a festival than a training camp.
‘Too many fucking slaves, and the boys are already up too late,’ Niceas said. His recruiting trip to Heraklea hadn’t mellowed him.
‘I have known you to stay up too late and drink too much, the first night of a campaign.’ Kineas passed a cup of wine to his hyperetes.
‘I’m a veteran,’ said the older man. He reached up and pinched the muscles where his neck met his shoulders. ‘An old veteran. Hades, the straps on my breastplate cut like knives.’ He was watching Eumenes, who was regaling the younger men with the tale of their winter ride together. ‘I doubt he even notices.’
‘You aren’t smitten, are you?’ Kineas asked. He meant the comment in jest and cursed inwardly when he saw that it had hit home. ‘Of all the old… Niceas, he’s young enough to be your son.’
Niceas shrugged and said, ‘No fool like an old fool.’ He looked at the fire, but soon his gaze was back on Eumenes, still posturing to his friends. Like Ajax, he was beautiful — graceful, manly, brave.
‘Keep your thoughts on the war,’ Kineas said. He tried to make the comment light.
Niceas gave a lopsided grin. ‘Fine talk from you. You’ll see your filly tomorrow, and then you won’t notice the rest of us exist for — I don’t know, until we’re all dead.’
Kineas stiffened. ‘I’ll try to spare some time for other thoughts,’ he said, still trying for a light tone.
Niceas shook his head. ‘Don’t be a prick. I don’t mean to offend — not much, anyway. But some of the boys think we’re in this fucking war so that you can mount this girl, and for all that the Poet is full of such stuff, it’s thin enough if we’re all dead.’ The lopsided grin was back. ‘I liked your speech today. Hades, I felt the touch — whatever
