said things that he wondered about himself. The Stoics said that no insult hurt you unless you already believed it.
Sappho came and stood before him. 'You are working on making yourself a monster,' she said. 'You were preparing to kill Phiale in cold blood, like a tyrant. I saw it in your eyes. Had you done so – despite her evil actions, despite everything – many of us would not have forgiven you. Theron is far away, and Philokles is dead, and my husband is off fighting. It is left to me to discipline you – and I am not any softer than you, nephew. You are working on making yourself a monster. Wake up!' she said.
Satyrus tried to swallow his wine, and it stuck in his throat. Hama looked elsewhere. Nearchus nodded at every word, and Neiron looked like a man who wanted to hide under his seat.
'Hama?' Satyrus asked. 'Do you think I did wrong?'
The Gallic officer looked at his boots. He shrugged. 'In war, men do hard things,' he said. 'Such things are – uglier – in peace.'
Satyrus stood up, suddenly angry. 'We are at war!' he said.
Sappho shook her head. 'No, we are not. You choose to make war on Eumeles. My husband and Leon support you because of their love for your parents – and for you. And such a war will take lives, nephew. People will die. If you are no better than Eumeles – a selfish, grasping man, but a competent administrator – if you are another of the same, who sees his own interest as the height of all law, who kills women to make sure that his path to power is secure – then all those people die for nothing.' She slumped. 'She is despicable. But her bad actions would never excuse yours. I saw your eyes – you were that close to killing her.'
'She might have killed us all!' Satyrus yelled.
'Eumeles could say the same of your mother!' Sappho shouted back. 'He killed her because he feared her!' She came and took his hands. 'Do you honestly fear Phiale?'
Satyrus stood with his hands on the back of his chair, clenched as if his ship was in a storm and he was clutching the rail to keep from being swept overboard. His eyes flicked from man to man to woman around the hearth, and his rage soared – and then sank away, like flames on damp wood. He loosed his grip on the chair. 'What would you have me do?' he asked.
Nearchus shrugged. 'Send her to Athens,' he said. 'And wash your hands of her.'
Sappho shook her head. 'Leave her here,' she said, 'and I will watch her. With Alcaea.' Sappho raised a manicured eyebrow. 'I will purchase Alcaea's interest, and put her back with her former mistress as our spy.'
'And Phiale will kill her, or avoid her,' Satyrus said.
'I doubt it,' Sappho said. 'And I think that you should let me try.'
Satyrus looked at Hama. 'Well?' he asked.
Hama shook his head. 'Lord, don't involve me in this. I obey. I would kill her for you, if you asked. And yet – I agree with the lady, too. About what a chief can become. I have seen a good chief become a bad chief, but I have never seen a bad lord become a good one.' He shrugged. 'For me, I wish we had caught the doctor.'
Satyrus flicked his eyes to his helmsman. 'And you, Neiron?'
Neiron shook his head. 'Land has problems that don't exist at sea. I prefer the sea. But I'll say this. When we go to sea – no enemy here will be a danger to us unless they have a faster ship and a better crew. We'll be gone with the tide. By the time this woman has power and money again,' the old seaman shrugged, 'we'll feed the fishes – or you'll be king.'
Satyrus nodded. 'Good advice.' He looked at his aunt. 'From all of you,' he said. And sighed. 'I do not want to be a monster.'
'Good,' Sappho said.
Satyrus took a deep breath. 'But – word of our sailing must not leave the city when we go. Hama, Sappho – can you keep Phiale from sending a letter? A tablet? A scroll? One slave, slipping out on a merchanter? And Sophokles-'
Neiron put a hand on his navarch's shoulder. 'They can't. But they can try – and they can, by the gods, make it harder.'
Satyrus shook his head. 'We need time. If Eumeles is warned…' He shook his head. 'Life is risk.' He managed a smile. 'I'm twenty, and I'm losing my nerve. Very well, Auntie. You have her.'
'Thank you.' She touched his cheek. 'Hama and I will do our best.' In the morning, Satyrus presented himself to Gabines, Ptolemy's steward, for his appointment. He expected to wait – in Aegypt, no one was ever granted his first request to meet the lord of the land.
To his own surprise, he found himself ushered immediately to the lord of Aegypt's presence. Ptolemy sat under the magnificent fresco of the gods and heroes, on a carved ivory stool, as if he was just the archon of the city and not its uncrowned king.
'Satyrus!' he said, rising from his stool to clasp Satyrus's hands. 'We feared the worst. And we still miss your uncle.'
Satyrus bowed his head. 'My lord, I am working to remedy my uncle's absence. And I am preparing a spring campaign to topple his captor.'
Ptolemy settled and Gabines motioned at the slaves for wine. 'See to it that your planning is better than the last time!' Ptolemy said.
Satyrus flushed. 'We had a spy in our midst,' he said.
Gabines, the lord of Aegypt's spymaster, leaned forward. 'Do tell, young man.'
Satyrus took his wine, tasted it appreciatively and nodded.
'A stool for the prince of the Euxine,' Gabines ordered.
Satyrus had to smile.
'And we hear that you won yourself several victories,' Ptolemy said. 'After your initial defeat. Eumeles is reported to be beside himself.'
Gabines raised a hand. 'My lord, I would like to hear of this spy,' he said.
Satyrus nodded and sat on the stool that was brought for him. 'You know Phiale, the hetaira?' he asked.
'Not as well as I would like,' answered the lord of Aegypt. He laughed loudly, showing all his teeth.
Satyrus frowned. 'She spied for Eumeles, with Sophokles, the Athenian physician.'
Gabines nodded. 'Sophokles is gone,' he said. 'I had him at a certain location, but now he has fled. My informant puts him on a ship to Sicily.'
Satyrus's head snapped around. 'You knew he was in the night market?' Satyrus asked.
'Yes!' Gabines said. 'And if your uncle had been here, he'd have had enough sense to ask me before he acted.'
Ptolemy nodded. 'You are not king, here, lad. You were precipitate.'
It is not easy to keep your temper when you are young, and everyone older than you seems to be in a conspiracy to put you in the wrong. Satyrus flushed, and he felt the heat on his cheeks. He covered the onset of anger by sipping more wine.
Gabines shook his head. 'Next time, you'll know better, lad. Can you prove the involvement of Phiale?'
Satyrus nodded. 'I think so, although Philokles would say that it depends on what you require as a standard of proof. Her slave attempted to suborn mine. We have this slave, and she has writings of her mistress – writings which Phiale says are forged.'
'Circumstances are against the woman,' Gabines said, scratching his beard. He glanced at his master. 'I don't recommend that you get to know her any better, my lord.' He looked at Satyrus. 'What do you propose to do to her, young man?'
Satyrus sat back and smiled. 'Nothing.'
The lord of Aegypt and his steward exchanged smiles. 'Really?' Gabines asked.
Satyrus nodded. 'My aunt his given her word that Phiale will cause me no more… discontent.' He savoured his wine. 'Can you tell me of Eumeles?'
Gabines was silent for a long moment. Satyrus noticed that he could hear the slave behind him, breathing. It was that quiet.
'Eumeles is incensed that you destroyed his squadron at Tomis. And he has had word of you from Byzantium, and from Rhodos. And from here.' Gabines raised his eyes. 'But he is far more afraid of your sister. We hear that he is hiring mercenaries already.'
'Where is my sister?' Satyrus asked.
