Tyrant: Storm of Arrows (45 page)

Srayanka came up behind her husband and put her hands on her hips. ‘Not a good story, Ataelus,’ she said in Sakje.

He bowed his head, but said, ‘These young people are
my
people. Derva has denied her paradâtãm for the required number of days.’

‘And then what happened?’ Kineas asked.

Ataelus frowned. ‘Upazan and Garait for shouting,’ he said in Greek. He met Kineas’s eye. ‘Upazan hits Garait, and Leon hits Upazan. Upazan draws a sword. Cuts at Garait. I step in to stop foolish boy-talk and get this.’ He gestured with shame at his wound. His bow arm was in a sling.

‘What does Leon have to do with this?’ Kineas asked, his temper fraying.

Srayanka’s eyes narrowed fractionally and she shook her head. ‘Leon loves Mosva of the Sauromatae.’

‘I know that!’ Kineas said.

‘So does Upazan,’ Srayanka said, as she would speak to a not-very-bright child. ‘What do you want, Ataelus?’

‘I ask for killing Upazan,’ Ataelus said formally at the end of his testimony. ‘Man to man and horse to horse.’

Kineas looked at Srayanka, who simply shook her head. ‘Am I your queen, Ataelus?’ she asked.

Ataelus looked back and forth between Kineas and Srayanka. He had always made a point of his status as a Massagetae, not a Sakje. A visitor, not a subject. But he was thoroughly Kineas’s man - Kineas had made him. This, too, was Scythian politics.

The day was hot, but there was an edge of something on the wind and lightning flashed out over the desert. Kineas leaned forward to speak, but Srayanka put a hand on his shoulder to stay him.

Ataelus made a mute appeal to Kineas, and getting no response, he said, ‘Yes.’

‘Really? You are Sakje?’ She was relentless.

‘Yes,’ said Ataelus.

Srayanka flashed a smile at Kineas. ‘As he has declared himself to us, he is subject to our justice.’ She nodded. ‘It would be bad manners to allow you to fight Lot’s sister’s son. Bring me this Garait.’

Garait was brought forward, his braids carefully plaited, in his best tunic.

‘How many horses do you have, Garait?’ Srayanka asked.

‘I have twenty horses of my own,’ he answered in Sakje, but his pride was audible to every person in the tent. Twenty was an excellent score for a man so young, but of course he had had two years of war to collect them. ‘No ponies. No horses-for-meat. Twelve Thessalians, tall and strong. Four Getae ponies fit for any work. Four of our own horses for riding.’

Srayanka nodded. ‘And what is Derva’s bride price?’

Garait shrugged. ‘I do not know,’ he said.

Srayanka looked at Kineas. ‘You trust me to handle this?’ she asked him in Greek.

‘You do know the customs better than I,’ Kineas said.

‘I will speak to Prince Lot. In the meantime,’ she turned back to Garait, ‘you are forbidden to be within twenty horse-lengths of her. You may not speak to Upazan, nor accept or deliver a challenge. In every case, you will refer him to me.’

‘Yes, lady.’ Garait nodded, the equivalent of a deep bow among Persians. Then she summoned Leon, who was suspiciously close by, and also very clean and in his best tunic. He looked as if he had a major bruise forming around his left eye, his dark skin almost purple in the sun.

‘Do you intend to wed Mosva?’ she asked.

The black man nodded gravely. ‘If she’ll have me,’ he said.

‘Arrange a bride price and pay it,’ she said. ‘And be quick about it. Your flirtation is hurting us, Leon.’

Leon smiled. ‘I’m not usually slow to close a deal,’ he said. ‘I had only thought to wait until the campaign was over.’

‘Listen, Numidian, if I were to offer you advice, I’d say this. Learn her bride price tonight. Make talk with Lot - ask obliquely. Buy the horses you need and picket them with his herd, and steal Mosva from her tent and put her in yours. Do it now.’

Leon bowed. ‘I live to serve you, lady,’ he said.

But Srayanka looked troubled.

When they were gone, Kineas turned to Diodorus. ‘This is what comes of too much time idle. I want more patrols, south towards Alexander and east along our march route. And a scout - not Ataelus, he’s hurt - east, looking for waterholes and fodder. We need to move.’

Diodorus scratched under his beard - a beard that was showing a surprising number of grey hairs. ‘You know that we bumped into some of Alexander’s scouts three days back, down by the Oxus.’

Kineas had heard as much in the last rush of feast preparations. The encounter had been two days’ ride to the south - not close enough to threaten his camp, but close enough to get his attention. ‘I know. Get the scouts out. Most of our wounded are able to ride. I’d like to be out of this camp in two days.’

Diodorus nodded. ‘Can’t be too soon.’

Diodorus and Parshtaevalt organized a string of running patrols well to the south, covering a crescent of possible approaches between the Macedonians, the Persians and their camp. With the help of Lot’s Sauromatae, they had plenty of warriors to cover the patrols and the rotation helped relieve the punishing toll of ten thousand horses on the local grass, as well as the boredom. Kineas and Lot and Srayanka had much to arrange before they could make the final push over the Sogdian desert to join the Scythian muster.

The next day, Diodorus and Ataelus pushed the eastern patrols out farther, clearing their route to their next fixed camp. They needed grass and water and a path free of enemies. It took a great deal of scouting.

On the second day after the feast, Kineas summoned the officers and clan leaders to council in the cool of the afternoon. Then he sat with Leon, calculating supplies and fodder, and getting answers he did not like.

Diodorus arrived in camp at midday, well before he was expected. He had a patrol of Olbians - his own troop, with twenty iron-faced Keltoi surrounding a group of dusty riders who appeared at first to be prisoners. Kineas began to approach and Diodorus waved him off, so Kineas went to the shade of the felt awning projecting from the rear of Srayanka’s wagon and poured himself a little wine. He poured more for Diodorus as he came in.

‘This will cut the dust,’ Kineas said.

‘I’m bringing trouble,’ Diodorus said. ‘Did you see who I brought in?’

‘Upazan?’ Kineas said.

‘The very same. Riding south with a war party. Not in our scout rotation. And frankly, he needs a hiding. He’s a bully and he’s bad for the discipline we’ve built among the Sakje.’

Kineas shrugged. ‘Bring him.’

He sent Samahe for Srayanka. She came with both children and Sappho, and they all took seats on the carpets of the tent. By the time they were settled, Upazan was brought in.

He stood straight. His face had the natural sullenness of the adolescent, more out of place on an adult. He wore a magnificent coat of bronze scales plated in gold, and wore a golden boar atop his gold-covered bronze helmet.

Kineas nodded. ‘I greet you, Upazan. May I serve you wine?’

‘I want no wine,’ Upazan said. ‘I want to ride free. Blood will flow for this insult.’

Kineas nodded and turned to Leon. ‘Send Sitalkes for Prince Lot, with my respectful wish that he will come and help me deal with Upazan.’

Leon nodded and left.

Turning to Upazan, Kineas shrugged. ‘You spurn my courtesy, so I will waste no more time on it. You left camp without permission—’

‘I am Upazan of the Sauromatae, and I
need no permission
, Greek. I may ride where I please, raid where I please. Release me, or there will be blood.’

Kineas sipped his own wine and then walked up close to the young man. Upazan was a finger’s-width taller, but they were of a size. Kineas stepped in close. ‘Whose blood, yearling? You cannot mean to threaten to bleed on me.’

The roar of laughter did nothing to quench Upazan’s temper. Even his own followers laughed.

Srayanka handed Lita to Sappho and rose. ‘Upazan, it is agreed by all the people who follow Kineas that they will accept his guidance on matters of war. Prince Lot has accepted. I have accepted.’

Upazan shook his head. ‘I have not accepted. I have not seen any of his great skills.’ He spat and smiled, uncowed by Kineas’s nearness. ‘I will fight you, old man. Then perhaps I will take your horses. I need horses to buy the love of a grass priestess.’

‘She does not want you, Upazan,’ Srayanka said as Lot pushed in under the canopy.

‘It is of little matter to me. I will have her.’ Upazan raised his chin.

Srayanka spoke slowly and clearly. ‘The woman you are speaking of is your mother’s sister’s daughter. She is not for you. She will go to be Leon’s wife.’

Lot interrupted. ‘Your time with the Medes has made you forgetful of our ways, boy. No woman goes anywhere against her will.’ Lot gave a grim smile. ‘She might hurt you.’

Upazan looked around. ‘You are all against me. Very well.’ He crossed his arms. He had dignity for a man so young and with so much anger. ‘Will you fight me, foreigner?’

Leon shot to his feet. ‘I will fight you.’

Kineas handed his wine cup to Leon. ‘This is a matter of discipline, not of revenge,’ he said to Leon. And then to Upazan, ‘Are you ready? The stakes are that when I win, you will swear to honour my orders. If you win, you will still follow my orders.’

Upazan spat. ‘If I win, I will be king of the Sakje,’ he said.

Kineas shook his head. ‘It doesn’t work that way, boy. Are you ready?’

‘Are you ready to be a widow?’ Upazan asked Srayanka.

Kineas laughed. ‘No one is going to die, boy. Ready?’

For the first time, Upazan hesitated - a tiny crack in his façade. ‘Ready?’ he asked.

‘The time is now.’ Kineas took off his baldric and handed it to Leon, stripped his tunic over his head and stood naked.

Upazan stepped back. ‘I have no weapons!’ he said.

Kineas grinned. ‘You challenged me. Among Greeks - and Sakje - that gives me the choice of weapons. And I warned you, boy, that the next time you crossed me, I would beat you like a child. Now, are you ready?’

Upazan narrowed his eyes while the women tittered at Kineas’s nudity. Samahe demanded that Upazan strip, too. ‘There are things Mosva needs to know!’ she called in a voice of brass.

‘This is not the fight I want!’ Upazan said. ‘This is the demeaning squabble of slaves!’

Kineas nodded. ‘It is not the fight you want - I agree. So you may apologize and retract your challenge, or fight.’

Upazan looked around for counsel - for the support of the men who had ridden with him. A few of them had come up, watched by the Keltoi, but their faces were carefully blank. Upazan opened his tunic and dropped it to the rugs. He had thick cords of muscles - even by Greek standards, he had a good physique.

He raised his arms. ‘I am ready,’ he said.

Upazan didn’t lack courage, and he was strong. But he was a poor wrestler and he had never even seen boxing.

Kineas had almost finished before Philokles, a late arrival, finished his wine. Kineas took his time, trying to teach the boy how powerless he was - a life lesson the boy clearly needed. He took a blow - powerful but untrained - on the muscle of his arm and then locked the Sauromatae in a hold around his neck, turned his body so that the younger man had no purchase and then hit him once with his fist on the temple. Upazan fell unconscious from his arms.

The Sakje and the Sauromatae joined in their applause, and Kineas was human enough to enjoy their praise while he strigilled with Philokles’ help, enjoying the clean smell of olive oil on his flesh. Srayanka watched him thoughtfully.

‘You are quite handsome,’ she said with a half-smile. ‘And the oil is strangely attractive.’ Her eyebrows drew together as she frowned. ‘But you would have done better to kill him.’

Kineas shrugged. ‘I can’t kill him and keep the Sauromatae as allies.’

Srayanka raised an eyebrow. ‘You can’t keep them anyway, my husband. And now - now he will be like a serpent.’ She frowned, her eyebrows a single line over her nose. ‘We had this conversation before. I was right then and I am still right.’

Kineas shrugged. ‘Sometimes, you are like a Greek wife,’ he said.

Philokles’ strigil found the bruise on his arm where Upazan had landed a blow, and he winced.

Nihmu watched with ill-concealed glee. ‘Your mercy is wasted on him, lord,’ she said. ‘He has none for others!’

‘All the more reason for the strategos to show some mercy to him,’ Philokles said.

The council gathered as the sun began to go down in the west. The air was almost cool and the dust of the day had settled. Kineas had Nicanor build a big fire in the clear ground behind Srayanka’s wagon and he arranged as many stools as he could find. The tribal leaders came in little knots, gossiping about the feast and about Upazan. Kineas noted that Parshtaevalt came with Ataelus and Leon, while Lot stood apart with Monae, his wife. Upazan did not attend. The Olbian officers were all there.

Kineas rose after Nicanor had poured wine for them all. He made a libation, pouring the whole cup of good wine into the fire, so that a cloud of fragrant steam rose around him in the dark. ‘I begin to sing of Pallas Athena, the glorious goddess,’ he said, ‘bright-eyed, inventive, unbending of heart, pure virgin, saviour of cities, courageous,
Tritogeneia
. Wise Zeus himself bore her from his manful head, already armed in bronze and gold, and awe seized all the gods as they looked at her. But Athena stood before Zeus who holds the aegis, shaking a bright iron spear. Olympus shook at the warlike ardour of the bright grey eyes, and the earth all around the mountain cried fearfully, and the sea rolled and spat dark waves and foam in sudden torment, until the maiden Athena stripped the glorious bronze from her lovely shoulders. And wise Zeus was glad.

‘And so hail to you, daughter of Zeus who holds the aegis! Now we will remember you.’

Then he turned to his council. ‘It is time for us to go and fight Alexander,’ he said. ‘We are here to discuss who will go, and how we will go.’