Melitta was sure that her answer was the right one. 'Friends,' she said, and all their heads turned. 'My friends, this is a battle I will never fight – a battle where I must expect a thousand empty saddles. Coenus – I understand. I am enough Greek that I understand, but I will find us another way.'
Coenus nodded. He tucked his helmet into the leather bag at his back and pulled out a Sakje fur hat. 'Good,' he said. 'It would have been horrible.'
Scopasis shook his head. 'Glorious,' he spat. Gaweint looked as if he might cry.
Ataelus came up last, heard the end of the debate and slapped his former outlaw on the back. 'Live a few more days,' he said. 'You may find that dying in battle is not the only joy.'
The Sindi and the Maeotae cheered like heroes as their queen rode up the bluff and entered the gates over the corpses of a dozen dead phalangites. Coenus congratulated the farmers on the spirit of their defence, and Ataelus already had two hundred riders across the river, riding the coast, trying to find out where the enemy fleet was heading.
'Where is my brother?' Melitta asked.
'If he is alive, he is coming,' Urvara said.
Coenus nodded.
But the enemy fleet sailed out into the bay, and Melitta suspected that perhaps an opportunity had sailed with it.
One boat returned, a pentekonter rowed by soldiers with a handsome older man in the stern. Melitta found Coenus overseeing the storage of yet more grain and pointed it out to him.
'Nikephoros,' he said. 'Must want to bury his dead. He's of the old school – quite an honourable man.'
'How can he stomach his master, then?' Melitta asked. She saw Nihmu – pale, thin and distraught. It took her a moment to realize that Nihmu was waiting on her – literally. Melitta had waited on Nihmu most of her adult life. It was odd to reverse the situation.
Coenus smiled at Nihmu and she looked elsewhere. He rolled his eyes. 'Listen, honey bee. Your father was lucky. His employer was a monster – but Kineas rose above him. Not every professional soldier can do the same.'
Melitta continued to watch the fifty-oared boat approach. 'Nihmu?' she said softly.
'Lady?' Nihmu came closer. 'Lady? I have come to crave a boon.'
Melitta tore her eyes from the approaching galley. 'Nihmu, I think you're being silly. I'm not the lady to you.'
Nihmu had tears in her eyes. 'You are, lady. Listen – I wish to leave.'
Melitta started. 'Leave?' she asked. She glanced at Coenus – whose look of Laconic concern didn't fool her for a moment. 'Why are you leaving?'
Nihmu bit her lip. 'I am going to rescue my husband,' she said. 'Coenus and I feel that it won't be long before Eumeles executes him. He must be rescued.'
Melitta felt a void in her stomach as she realized that among all her busy plots and plans, Leon had vanished into obscurity. She looked at Coenus, who wiped sweat from his brow and shook his head. 'Nihmu and I agreed that it must be her. If I go, you have no military counsel that you trust.' His voice was flat, and she realized that he was making a sacrifice, and bearing it – rather the opposite of her first assumption.
'You would rather rescue Leon?' she asked.
Coenus nodded. 'Yes,' he said. 'This morning reminded me of why I do not wish to command.'
Melitta nodded and began to walk down to the beach beneath her father's kurgan. The pentekonter was coming ashore, and the first sailors to touch the beach had branches of olive in their hands. A herald came next. He wore green and walked up the beach to Coenus, and bowed. Coenus pointed to Melitta. The herald looked puzzled, but then he inclined his head.
In abysmal Sakje, he said, 'Master of many horses Nikephoros look to ask to make not war with you.' The man's nerves were betrayed by the way he clutched his staff.
'I speak Greek,' she said.
'Ah! My pardon, despoina. My strategos requests a truce during which he might bury his dead, or take their bodies.' The herald waved his wand in the direction of the fort.
'Let him approach me himself,' Melitta said. 'I see him standing in the stern. It is right that leaders should look each other in the eye.'
The herald turned and walked away. She saw him walk back the half-stade across the sand.
'Build a fire,' Melitta said. 'Fetch wine.'
The herald went aboard, and she saw Nikephoros look her way and shrug. Then he leaped down into the cold water and trudged up the beach.
Coenus worked his magic. In moments, he had a driftwood fire going. Nihmu came to her side with a heavy amphora of wine cradled in her arms like a baby, and Urvara came down on horseback, dismounted and joined her. Temerix walked up on foot.
'Parshtaevalt, Ataelus and Graethe are already out on the grass,' Urvara said. 'I gather that's Nikephoros.'
Melitta nodded.
Nikephoros walked the half-stade towards them, apparently indifferent to his wet cloak and the icy wind. He came alone.
'Please come and be warm,' Melitta said. 'There's wine.'
'I never refuse a cup of wine,' Nikephoros said. 'Hello, Coenus the Megaran. Your presence gave me hope that I could expect the courtesies of war.'
Melitta handed him a cup of wine. 'Did you know my father?'
Nikephoros was Boeotian. He had copper-red hair – what was left of it – and fine armour. He wore a full beard like a man of a bygone era, and he didn't waste words. 'No. Or rather, only by repute.' He poured a libation. 'To all the gods, and to the shade of your father. In his name, I ask you for a truce of one day, in which to recover and bury my dead.'
Melitta nodded. 'It is odd, Nikephoros. An hour ago, I was considering the storming of your camp. Now we drink wine. Yes – and no. You may have a five-day truce to recover your dead. There will be some by the outlying farms where we killed them yesterday.'
'I need only a day,' Nikephoros said.
'Five days, during which your ships remain in the bay where I can see them.' Melitta had to look up at him. He had a pleasant face, the kind of face she trusted. Too bad, she thought.
His anger showed in his face. 'You did not beat me badly enough-' he said, and his voice was hard.
She raised her whip. 'You serve a usurper, a tyrant who ordered you here to burn his own farmers. I owe you no courtesy at all. Because Coenus told me that you are a man of honour, I agreed to meet you. But hear me, Boeotian. My father would never have served a tyrant like Eumeles. Instead, he would have overthrown him. My uncles serve Ptolemy, who builds cities, and Seleucus, who liberates them. I judge you by the company you keep. To me, you are a mercenary who serves a rebel. Take my five days, or sail away. There is no bargain to be made here.'
Nikephoros shook his head. His anger had cooled. 'So you already know,' he said.
Coenus's face was carefully blank.
Melitta took her cue from him. She said nothing. But suddenly hope soared in her.
Nikephoros sipped his wine. 'Listen, lady. I expect no special treatment from you, but your request is unreasonable. To wait five days is to guarantee that I'm blockaded here. So I'll offer three days, and no more.' He addressed Coenus. 'Be fair, Coenus.'
Coenus leaned forward. 'Because if we keep you here five days,' he said, 'Satyrus's fleet will be here.' His voice cracked a little at the end – he could barely keep the smile off his face.
Nikephoros shrugged. 'I can't chance it. That boy moves fast. I got word this morning he's at Heraklea with a fleet. I assume that you heard the same?'
He looked around, and his face filled with blood. This time he was angry. 'You didn't know!' he said.
'I know now,' Melitta said. 'T hree days has just become acceptable.'
Nikephoros spat. 'This is not how embassies proceed. Coenus, I expected better of you.'
Coenus shrugged. 'Neither you nor your herald has been threatened. You dickered over the days of truce. It
