Tyrant (23 page)

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Authors: Christian Cameron

BOOK: Tyrant
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Kineas had to wait while the archon heard a boundary dispute - lengthy arguments on both sides appealing to various customs and the views of various neighbours. Kineas gathered from the arguments that when land had been taken from the local tribe of Sindi, the demarcations of land grants had never been firmly settled.
 
Kineas had time to watch the archon. He was not a tall man and tended to slouch his shoulders and hunch his back as he listened to the debate before him, his chin resting on his right fist. He wore a simple white tunic with a red border and a heavy gold ring on one thumb, had a diadem on his head, but otherwise wore no sign of rank or ornamentation. Despite the cold air and an icy wind blowing from the north, he didn’t don his cloak. He had a heavy, dark beard shot with grey and his hair had begun to thin on his forehead. With the exception of the diadem, he looked every inch a Greek magistrate.
 
He settled the grievance in favour of the smaller farmer who had brought the charge that his boundary stones had been moved, and ordered that a cup of wine be brought. Then he motioned for Kineas to attend him.
 
‘Greetings, Kineas of Athens,’ he said formally.
 
‘Greetings, Archon,’ Kineas replied.
 
‘I’m told that the muster of the Hippeis went well. Here, stand close by me. You have the muster?’ The archon was convivial. Kineas thought he was about to place his hand on Kineas’s shoulder.
 
‘I have the full account of the muster to present to you, Archon.’ Kineas held up a scroll. ‘I was satisfied.’
 
The archon frowned. ‘I understand you took steps of your own to see that the muster would be full. Yes?’
 
Kineas hesitated and then said, ‘Yes. I asked several gentlemen to see to it that the importance of the muster was understood throughout the city.’
 
The archon grunted. ‘Harrumph. Kineas, perhaps I failed to make myself clear to you - or perhaps you have your own designs. In the first case, I am at fault; in the second case, you have done me a wrong. Had I wanted the men of this town informed of the importance of the muster, do you not think I could have passed that word myself? If I did not, perhaps you might have thought that I had my reasons?’
 
Kineas recognized that he was on dangerous ground. ‘I sought only to improve the quality of your cavalry, Archon. The first step on the road to training them was to draw them to the muster.’
 
The archon sipped his wine. ‘Perhaps,’ he said after a few long seconds had passed. ‘Kineas, you have come here to serve me and this city. You think, perhaps, that you understand us already. You see a tyrant on his ivory chair and some noble gentlemen who seek to keep the tyrant within the bounds of the law. Hmm? Very Athenian. I asked you here today - to the court - to see another thing. These cavalrymen of the city, these “gentlemen”, are the rapacious landlords who will try to gouge my small farmers. I must protect the farmers; without them, we have no grain. If I let the great ones enslave them, I have no hoplites. And the small men - they have rights too. I protect them.’
 
Kineas thought, the law protects them. But he remained silent, only nodding.
 
‘Many of your gentlemen do all in their power to impede the running of this city - even its security. Hmmm? When I hired you, I was not aware of your many
connections
- and I wonder if I have made an error. Have I?’
 
At the word ‘connections’, Kineas felt, for the first time, the touch of fear.
 
‘Nicomedes is a dangerous man, Kineas of Athens. Dine with him at your peril. Very well, you have mustered my gentlemen and now you will train them. In the meantime, I have a use for you. You will please take the men on this list,’ and he handed Kineas a tablet, ‘and find the bandits who wish to send me an embassy. You will escort their ambassador to me. I understand that they are north of the city above the great bend in the river, about three days’ ride. As you have set your next muster for three weeks hence, I recommend that you proceed immediately.’
 
Kineas glanced at the tablet. There were seven names and none of them was familiar to him. ‘I would rather take my own men.’
 
‘I’m sure you would. Feel free to take - two. Not more than two. Am I clear? I would dislike having my orders misunderstood again.’ He smiled. ‘And please apologize to Memnon, who feels that you insulted him in the hippodrome.’
 
Memnon emerged from the nearest file of soldiers. ‘We can settle in private, Archon.’
 
‘That’s just what I don’t wish,’ the archon snapped. ‘No private feuds, no quarrels. Kineas, apologize.’
 
Kineas considered for a moment. ‘Very well. I apologize, Memnon. Know that I hold you no ill will. However, your ill-considered arrival at the hippodrome, armed and unannounced, could have had serious consequences for my command.’
 
‘Don’t be a fool,’ snapped Memnon. ‘I was there to save you, horse master. They could have turned on you in a second - don’t think any of them loves you. I was there to provide
you
some security, and you embarrassed me.’ He leered. He was missing some teeth, and up close he was a scary man. ‘Is that what passes for an apology in Athens? Because in my city - Heraclea - it’d get your balls cut off.’
 
Kineas shook his head. ‘No. You were there to intimidate the Hippeis - and me. And don’t hold
me
to blame if your men flinch from a cavalry charge - sounds like a professional problem.’
 
‘Fuck your mother,’ said Memnon, flushing red. His voice was quiet, almost eerie. ‘Don’t play games, Athenian.’
 
The archon stood up. ‘Kineas, you are not impressing me. Neither one of you is. Perhaps I should try raising my voice.
Apologize at once
.’
 
The three of them stood in a triangle, now surrounded by Memnon’s soldiers who were blocking the crowd. Memnon’s whole posture showed that he was ready for violence. His thumbs were hitched into his sword belt and his right hand was twitching - he was that close to drawing his sword. Kineas expected he looked the same. He was on the balls of his feet, ready to fight.
 
The archon’s eyes flicked back and forth between them. ‘Kineas, apologize now.’
 
Kineas made his decision and felt smaller for it. ‘Memnon, I apologize, ’ he said.
 
The archon grunted. ‘I ordered Memnon to support you, you fool. You think you know us - you know nothing. Think about hubris while you escort the barbarians through the plains. Now go.’
 
Kineas, humiliated, turned and pushed through Memnon’s men.
 
 
‘Let’s take our mounts and go!’ said Niceas, his hand on the amulet of Athena’s owl at his neck. He coughed long and hard. Crax and Arni had settled him on a couch in front of the brazier. He was quite sick.
 
‘You can’t travel,’ snapped Kineas. It sounded more like an accusation than he had meant. ‘Winter is almost on us - you want to ride back down the coast in winter?’
 
‘We could leave the horses and take a ship out of here,’ said Diodorus.
 
‘We could all cut our throats. Look, it’s my fault - first, that we are here and second, that I cannot guard my tongue. For now, we stay. I’ll take Lykeles and Ataelus with me. Diodorus, stand ready for anything and keep our men out of trouble with Memnon’s.’
 
Philokles pushed through the curtain from the hallway. ‘Private party?’
 
Kineas glared at him. Philokles’ comings and goings were a constant irritation to him; the Spartan was with them when it was convenient and distant when it suited him. ‘Yes.’
 
Philokles moved over to the table and poured a cup of wine. ‘Voices carry. Trouble with the archon? And you have been sent on a mission? Very sensible of the archon - he’s getting you out of town for a few days. That suits me as well - I’d be happy to accompany you.’
 
‘I’ve already chosen my men,’ Kineas said. ‘The archon has only allowed me two.’
 
‘The rest of us,’ said Diodorus, ‘will make good hostages.’
 
Philokles smiled. ‘Well, I’m not really one of your men,’ he said. ‘I can’t really imagine that the archon meant to deprive you of my company. So I’ll just ride along. Or perhaps I’ll meet you on the road.’
 
Kineas, angry and still smarting from the scene in the agora, was both touched and incensed. A hot answer came to his tongue, but he bit down on it and swallowed it with some wine. ‘I can’t stop you,’ he said, but his voice had a little more warmth in it.
 
‘My point exactly.’ Philokles drank off his wine. ‘When do we leave?’
 
‘As soon as I can find the men on this list.’ Kineas pointed to the tablet on the table.
 
Philokles read the list and nodded. ‘I know most of these - they’re all young. Several are friends with Ajax - two of them would like to be better friends, if you take my meaning. Send him to gather them up and take him along - the thing is as easy as that,’ and he snapped his fingers.
 
Diodorus nodded. ‘I’d be happier if I could keep Lykeles, anyway. He knows the locals as well as I do.’ He looked at Philokles. ‘Young rich men. The sons of the richest, perhaps?’
 
Philokles shrugged. ‘The archon is no fool. Neither are you, Kineas - when you don’t lose your temper. I’ve heard a rumour - perhaps you’ve heard it too? That the archon is going to allow the assembly to meet to confirm his taxes.’
 
Diodorus nodded. ‘I have heard the same rumour.’
 
Philokles threw a leg over the table and reclined as if on a couch. The sturdy oak table groaned under his weight. ‘If I had to guess, I would say that the archon is sending away the sons of the most powerful men as a method of controlling the assembly. Hmm?’
 
Diodorus ran a hand through his hair. ‘Of course he is. I should have seen that.’
 
Kineas looked from one to the other. ‘Nice of the two of you to keep me informed like this. Any other gorgon’s heads to drop on me while I pack for the plains?’
 
‘The town’s croaking like a chorus of frogs about the cavalry muster. People were very impressed - with us, and with you, and with your little performance against Memnon’s men. They are widely hated. So far, we are not. Now, shall we send for Ajax?’
 
Kineas said, ‘I hate being mothered.’ He smiled ruefully. ‘What a fucking idiot I was.’
 
‘Which time?’ said Philokles sweetly, and dodged through the curtain.
 
The dinner with Cleitus was uneventful, decorous and professional. By chance or design, most of the other guests were men whose sons he was taking out into the plains at dawn. Kineas sensed no hostility from them, and he was at pains to make clear that they would train and ride hard, but that he would see to their safety.
 
Cleitus himself raised the possibility of an assembly. ‘It’s all over the agora - the archon will summon us to vote his new taxes.’
 
Kineas remained silent and tried to catch the eyes of Diodorus and Philokles to keep them silent. He failed.
 
‘When is the last time the assembly met?’ Philokles asked, sipping wine.
 
Cleitus glanced around and shrugged. An older man, Cleomenes, one of the city’s richest merchants, rose a little on his couch. ‘Almost four years, sir. An entire Olympiad has passed since we were last allowed to assemble.’
 
His son was a very young man - Eumenes, who had presented himself at the muster horsed and in armour, as Kineas remembered. He was not so young that he couldn’t speak at a dinner. He sat up on his father’s couch and said, ‘It was not always so, sir. When the archon was first appointed, the assembly met regularly.’
 

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