As he left, Alexander turned to Hephaestion. ‘This Greek mercenary has hurt us several times. I can’t believe he’s a Spartan — they have no head for cavalry. Agesilaus was the exception, not the rule.’
Hephaestion was pouting. ‘Xenophon was a Spartan,’ he said.
Alexander laughed. ‘What did you do while I went to my tutor?’ he asked. ‘Xenophon was an Athenian.’
Hephaestion knocked back his wine and shrugged. ‘Fine,’ he said. ‘I want to command the Sogdians.’
Alexander looked at him fondly. ‘You command my Companions,’ he said.
‘You need a soldier of proven worth to lead the Sogdians and stop the defeats we’ve taken in the little fights along the Oxus.’ Hephaestion raised his head.
Alexander met his eyes, put a hand on his head and ruffled his bronze curls. ‘It is not a job worthy of you,’ he said.
Hephaestion shrugged off his hand. ‘I want it.’
Alexander shrugged and turned his back. ‘No,’ he said.
‘I want-’ Hephaestion began.
‘No,’ Alexander said, in a tone of command. ‘Fetch Eumenes for me, please.’
Hephaestion stomped out of the tent and Eumenes came in alone. ‘Great King?’ he asked after an obeisance.
‘I need a cavalry commander to cover the movement on the Jaxartes. Who is it to be?’
Eumenes shrugged. ‘I thought Craterus had that job?’ he asked.
Alexander’s eyes bored into the Cardian’s, but Eumenes held his ground, not giving a hint that he already knew what had happened. After a moment, Alexander shook his head. ‘Craterus got beaten,’ he said.
‘I’ll do it,’ Eumenes said. His tone suggested that he didn’t want to do it.
‘Set a Greek to catch a Greek?’ Alexander said. ‘My thought exactly. There’s a Greek mercenary operating with Spitamenes. Take the Sogdians, a squadron of the mercenary horse and whatever foot you think will help and get him. He seems to have about four hundred horse. Perhaps twice that.’
Eumenes nodded. ‘Where is he now?’
Alexander had a rough sketch of Sogdiana on his camp table, although it showed nothing but towns, rivers and mountains. And even then, most of the distances were guesswork, even after a year’s campaigning. ‘Up where the Polytimeros meets the Sogdian mountains. He’ll be on the north bank of the Polytimeros, shadowing us.’
Eumenes looked at the map. ‘If he’s on the Polytimeros, we’ll catch him against the northern wall of the valley.’
‘Exactly,’ Alexander said. He glanced out of the door of his tent — checking for Hephaestion, no doubt. ‘If he was smart enough to beat Craterus, he’ll be smart enough to avoid getting trapped.’
‘If he’s not on the Polytimeros?’ Eumenes asked.
‘Track him. But mostly, keep him — and Spitamenes — off me while I manoeuvre. I have thirty thousand men to concentrate on the Jaxartes, and if one of these bandits gets into my rear-’ He shrugged. Morale among the Macedonians was low. They weren’t likely to desert or fight poorly, but mutiny was always possible when they felt hard done by. Both men knew it. They would march for ever without wine or oil — when they were happy.
‘So you’re going to the Jaxartes?’ Eumenes asked. He’d heard rumours, but armies were full of rumours.
‘Now. I’ve already started some of the troops in motion. I need to beat the Massagetae before they join hands with Spitamenes and make themselves a nuisance.’
Eumenes nodded. ‘The Massagetae have made no move to attack us,’ he said.
‘Except to send their men to harass our outposts and loaning horsemen to Spitamenes.’ Alexander’s tone was commanding. ‘When I beat them, Spitamenes will fold.’
Eumenes hadn’t risen to power with the king by cowardice. ‘I disagree, lord. Spitamenes will fold anyway. We have no need to fight the Massagetae. In fact, a message acknowledging their ownership of the sea of grass would probably end their campaign.’
‘Should I offer to pay them tribute, too?’ Alexander asked. His voice was very quiet.
Eumenes nodded slowly. ‘Very well, lord,’ he said. ‘Your mind is set.’
‘It is. Go and punish this Greek. Recruit the survivors and rejoin me. I won’t move to fight this Zarina for twenty days.’
‘Hephaestion wants this command,’ Eumenes said — not because he had any love of the king’s companion, but because he absolutely did not want to go chasing a wily Greek with Sakje allies on the sea of grass.
Alexander nodded. ‘I love Hephaestion with all my soul,’ he said, ‘but he is not suited for independent command. And if I ever hear that you repeated those words…’
Eumenes cast his eyes down to hide the gleam that must be there. Ahh! he thought. Now the game is worth playing. ‘I’ll catch this Greek, then,’ Eumenes said. ‘Perhaps I’ll bring you an Amazon, as well.’
Alexander sighed. ‘I liked the one I had,’ he said. ‘Even gravid, she had a presence. And her eyes!’ Alexander laughed. ‘Why do I tell you these things, Eumenes?’
Because you can’t tell Hephaestion, Eumenes thought with satisfaction.
Alexander stopped him at the door of his tent. ‘Take the savage. What’s his name? Urgargar?’
‘Upazan, lord?’
‘That one. He knows the country and he has a good hate in him. Let him focus it in our service.’ The king sat back and drank a little more wine.
28
‘ There’s cavalry behind us,’ Diodorus said as soon as he rode up. It was four days since they had left the Polytimeros to ride north, the hills of the Abii on their right and the Sogdian mountains a smudge to the south. Diodorus was so covered with dust that his cloak and his face and his tunic were all the same shade. His wide straw hat had frayed around the edges. ‘ Phewf — riding through our drag is enough to discourage any thoughts of glory.’
‘How many?’ asked Kineas. He looked back, although there was nothing to see but the tower of dust. They were a day and a night north of the last stream, and despite the heaviest load of water they could carry, the dash across the waterless plains had already brought equine casualties.
‘Eight hundred? A thousand? No remounts, according to Ataelus.’ Diodorus used the shawl over his head to wipe his face. ‘They were gaining on us, but Ataelus gave them a sting when they were watering. ’
The last water was almost a hundred stades behind them. ‘They’ll never catch us,’ Kineas said.
Diodorus smiled. ‘That’s what Ataelus said,’ he said, and coughed. ‘And that’s before he lifted fifty of their horses.’
Philokles pulled the shawl off his nose to speak. ‘Don’t dismiss them. They crossed mountains and deserts to get here.’ He nodded. ‘If we get into water trouble — we can’t go back.’
Kineas nodded. ‘I needed more to worry about,’ he said.
‘That’s why you’re the strategos,’ Diodorus said. ‘I used to command a couple of squadrons of cavalry, but now I’m a patrol leader.’ He laughed. ‘At this rate, another few weeks will see me where I started — as a gentleman trooper.’
Kineas wound his own shawl back over his face. ‘Was it so bad?’ he asked.
‘Nope,’ Diodorus said.
That night there was water — enough to madden the horses, but not enough to fill them. There was trouble, even with precautions. People became surly, mounts injured themselves and Greek notions of discipline clashed with Sakje ideas of horse care.
Kineas tried calm authority, and when that failed, he punched a Keltoi who was losing his head and then yelled himself hoarse. Angry with himself and with his command, he went to his cooking fire and sat holding his children while Srayanka checked her pickets with Diodorus. The one sandy hole in the stream bed emitted enough water to please one horse every few minutes — which mostly threatened to keep everyone awake all night.
Srayanka came back after the moon went down. She sighed and sank against his back, and together they watched the stars. ‘They slept?’ she asked.
‘Yes,’ Kineas said. He had kept his water bottle for them all day and given them the whole contents before
