daughter’s headless corpse lay at the far edge of the river and the water was a sickly red-brown where her blood mingled with the silt.
Several of Ataelus’s scouts surrounded her. Others rushed to surround Leon. Philokles and Eumenes supported Leon out of the water. Kineas laid him on the bank and cut his chinstrap. The base of his skull showed blood and his neck was cut so deep that the cords of his neck muscles could be seen. There was blood everywhere.
‘He killed her, didn’t he?’ Leon asked in a dull voice.
Philokles was off his horse and there. ‘Concussion,’ he said. ‘Give him to me. You command your army.’
Kineas handed over that responsibility with thanks and remounted. He swept his horse in a circle, another ugly feeling in his gut.
Upazan’s companions had crossed the river straight south and then ridden east along the water. The Sakje, confused, had not loosed an arrow. Even the prodromoi let them go.
Two stades away to the south and east, a man in a dust-coloured cloak with wide purple bands at the edges reined in at the far edge of the Oxus. Behind him was a dense column of purple-blue cloaks and dirty brown cloaks — Macedonian cavalry and a handful of Royal Hetairoi. Trumpets sounded and the blond man waved a dozen troopers forward to intercept Upazan’s friends. And then the dust cloud of the column settled over everything.
Kineas turned to Diodorus. ‘That is what we call a bad omen,’ he said. He couldn’t take his eyes off the blood in the water. When he did, all he could see were the Sauromatae, trickling back over the ridge.
Diodorus made a sign of aversion. ‘If Spitamenes comes now and decides to take our side?’ he said.
Kineas rode back up the face of the ridge that concealed his cavalry. He stopped at the top. The Sauromatae were spread in groups over several stades of the rough ground, and all could be seen to be arguing. Kineas rode down into the valley beyond, looking for Lot. When he found him, in the middle of a dozen furious warriors, he rode straight in.
‘Will you hold?’ Kineas asked. ‘Or do I have to retreat?’
Stung, Lot drew himself up. ‘We’ll hold,’ he said.
Kineas looked around at the Sauromatae warriors, who met his gaze steadily. Kineas pointed up the hill with his sword. ‘Two summers, we have covered each other’s backs,’ he said. ‘No boy, no kin-slayer, is going to rob us of victory.’
Grunts and nods. ‘Wait for my signal,’ Kineas said, and rode back up the ridge to Diodorus, feeling far less confidence than he had just expressed.
‘We’re fucked,’ Kineas said, showing Diodorus what he saw. ‘If even a third of them decide to support Upazan and attack the rest, Craterus can cross at will.’
Diodorus nodded. ‘Ares’ throbbing cock,’ he said bitterly. ‘We have him. Craterus is too late to push us and we’re already outfighting his Sogdae. Look at them!’ Diodorus pointed at the far bank. The sullen unwillingness of the Sogdae troopers there was conveyed through posture and movement, but to a pair of cavalrymen, it was like a shout.
Kineas waved for Srayanka and cantered down over the ridge, invisible from Craterus’s position. Once out of sight, he began to use his hands. ‘See that,’ he shouted at Srayanka as she rode up.
She pulled off her helmet and her black braids fell free from their coils. ‘See it? Husband, my eyes have seen nothing else for an hour. Was that Mosva?’ she asked.
‘Yes,’ Kineas spat in disgust. ‘I’m betting that they hold, but I want you to be ready to cover our retreat. If Craterus wants to cross, I intend to make him pay.’ He hesitated for a moment. ‘I may even attack him.’ He pointed across. ‘If we leave him here, that’s the end of our dream of moving on the Polytimeros.’
She nodded.
Kineas turned to Ataelus, who had just brought the prodromoi back across the Oxus and was now awaiting orders.
‘Go north, behind Srayanka, and then back into the scrub. Cover my left flank.’
Ataelus was pale, his shoulder and arm stiff with bandages, but his eyes gleamed. ‘Sure,’ he said. He turned his horse and waved his whip, and the prodromoi, all on fresh horses, trotted north.
Kineas pointed over his shoulder. ‘Our wagons are only an hour’s steady ride north,’ he said — a silly thing to say, as she would know as well as he. ‘We have to fight.’ He kissed her and rode back to the Olbians in the centre.
‘What the fuck is going on with the boiler-ovens?’ Eumenes asked, pointing at the Sauromatae and giving them the Greek name for fully armoured men.
‘Upazan made a stab at being king,’ Kineas said. ‘He killed Mosva and probably intended to kill Lot as well.’
‘He loved her,’ Eumenes said. He swallowed. ‘I was — quite fond..’ His attempt to remain laconic failed and he sobbed.
Kineas gave him a hug. ‘Not where the troops can see you, my boy,’ he said, hiding the younger man with his cloak. ‘Choke on it. There — are you ready?’
‘Yes,’ Eumenes said. He took a deep breath.
‘Don’t let Urvara see you sobbing for that girl,’ Diodorus said.
Kineas glared at him. ‘Diodorus!’ Kineas said. ‘I seem to remember
…’ he began, and Diodorus gave him a rueful smile.
‘I remember too,’ he said.
Together, they rode back over the crest of the ridge. A handful of Craterus’s Sogdians were crossing the Oxus in a spray of water well to the west. ‘Too far west to threaten us very soon,’ Kineas said.
Diodorus unslung a water skin. ‘Mmm,’ he said. ‘Muddy and warm. Faint smell of goat, too.’ He grinned appreciatively. ‘By now, Craterus has heard we have problems from that dickless arse-cunt Upazan, so he’s going to put pressure on the weakness and then come right across into our faces.’ He smiled. ‘Of course, by now he sees all the dust Lot is raising. He has no real idea of how many we are and he still doesn’t know where Spitamenes is.’ He pulled off his helmet and hung it on his sword hilt. ‘Even the Dog will take his time. Since we’re not Spitamenes, he probably doesn’t need to fight.’ Diodorus looked up and down. ‘But knowing Craterus, he hasn’t figured out that we’re not his prey. And he’s ignoring the fact that his Sogdians are already afraid of us.’
Kineas nodded. ‘And he hasn’t watered his horses,’ he said.
Diodorus scratched his chin. ‘Have to admit I thought you were mad to try it, but it surely does give us an edge now.’
Kineas sat still. Thalassa stood between his knees, back unmoving, head up as if it were a cool spring morning and she was eager for a run. He’d never had such a horse. He patted her neck affectionately. ‘Have the hyperetes sound “advance by squadrons”,’ he said.
‘We’re attacking?’ Diodorus asked.
‘We’re looking confident. The afternoon is bleeding away and we need nightfall.’ Kineas pointed with his Sakje whip. ‘Look — it’s the Farm Boy.’
They had all had an affectionate nickname for the man — a royal Macedonian bastard named Ptolemy. Unlike Craterus the Dog, who’d been hated and feared, the Farm Boy had many friends. ‘Commanding Companions.’
‘No, he’s with the Sogdians,’ Kineas said. ‘Poor bastard.’
Behind Kineas, Andronicus blew the trumpet call. The Olbian squadrons surged forward across the ridge. Their line was neat and the afternoon sun turned the bronze of their armour to fire.
‘Sound “halt”. Let’s see what they do.’ Kineas watched.
A minute later, and there were messengers flying among the Macedonians on the other side of the river. ‘They only have, what, eight hundred horse?’ Kineas asked.
Eumenes was looking up and down. ‘Twice that, surely!’
Diodorus laughed. ‘Youth is wasted on the young,’ he said. ‘Kineas is right. And half of them are Sogdians.’
Kineas looked up and down the riverbank. A stade from the river on both sides, the ground was like desert, with sun-scorched grass and gravel. But the valley itself was two stades wide and it was green — sometimes marshy, sometimes meadows of grass with stands of tamarisk and rose brush. On the far side, there were two distinct groups of Sogdian cavalry, and on Kineas’s far left, a pair of tight-knit squadrons of Macedonian professionals. The whole line moved, because the enemy horses were restless. They were moving so much that
