Authors: Christian Cameron
Tyrant (61 page)
And the time was
now
. His battle was upon him - no more than two days away. He’d spent an hour thinking just
how
the battle would happen. Philokles had challenged his assumptions - Philokles was right.
now
. His battle was upon him - no more than two days away. He’d spent an hour thinking just
how
the battle would happen. Philokles had challenged his assumptions - Philokles was right.
He hailed Niceas, and ordered him to fetch Heron, the hipparch of Pantecapaeum. Heron had learned quite a few lessons at Cleitus’s knee. If three weeks had not transformed him into the image of Hektor, if he had not yet learned to be courteous, professional, or polite, he had learned to be silent. He stood at every command meeting among the Greeks, a little distant from the others, a little hesitant to join in comment or laughter. He was a tall man, and he loomed over them, silent, and at times, sullen.
Kineas wanted to give the man a new start, and raise him in his own estimation.
‘Heron,’ he said, as the man came up.
‘Hipparch,’ Heron replied, with a civil salute. He was so tall that he appeared clumsy, and his legs were too long to look good on a horse. And he was dour - perhaps a reaction to being born ugly. He crossed his arms, not from nerves, but because they were so long that he had to do something with them. Kineas, who was too short to be accounted really handsome, felt some fellow feeling for the boy due to his ungainliness. Heron had something about him that suggested that when he was tested, he would not be found wanting - despite his attitude.
After offering him wine, Kineas went straight to business. ‘I need the river scouted, north and south. The Sakje tell me there are no fords for a hundred stades - I’d like to know that myself. I’m going to give you the picked scouts of all the troops. Go south first - the greatest calamity, at this point, would be if Zopryon got between us and Olbia.’ Kineas winced even as he made the comment. With the archon’s treason, if Zopryon could slip past them to the south, he could rest his army at Olbia, receive supplies, and march up the river at his leisure. It had occurred to him that Zopryon might march straight to Olbia, trusting to the ferry at the river mouth to get his army across and into the city.
That was a possibility against which Kineas and the king had no plan. Kineas rubbed his right hand over his forehead and down his nose, sighed, and looked up at Heron, who stood silently.
‘I need the river scouted, as far south as the bend of trees. Have your men test the water - really look at it. We can’t afford a surprise. As soon as you have swept the south, come back here and go north.’
Heron straightened. ‘Very well.’ He saluted with ill grace. ‘I perceive that you send me from the camp. Where do I find these picked scouts?’
Kineas gestured to Niceas. ‘Crax, Sitalkes, Antigonus, and twenty more of your choice, Niceas. And Lykeles - with Laertes as acting hyperetes.’
Niceas’s eyebrows twitched. ‘Yes, Hipparch,’ he said, with a shade of edge to his voice.
‘Heron - this is a vital task. Do it well. Listen to Lykeles and Laertes. Ride like the wind. I need to know my flank is secure by nightfall tomorrow.’
Heron saluted. Nothing about the man suggested that he was pleased to be given an important mission - nor did he offer any hint of insubordination. He walked off, back stiff, and Niceas shook his head. ‘Diodorus would have been more the mark, if you don’t mind my saying.’
Kineas picked his cloak off his equipment pile by the fire and threw it over his shoulders. ‘I need Diodorus. We may be fighting by tomorrow night.’ He shrugged. ‘Call me a fool - something tells me that young Heron will do well - and he’s the man I can spare.’ He shivered. Darkness was falling, and the weight of all his responsibilities was pressing rational thought from his mind. Zopryon - where would he try to cross? Would he march to Olbia? The Olbians - would they fight? Would their newfound attempt at democracy last through a cold night before battle, or would they melt away? Food, firewood, fodder for horses, the number of lame mounts. Srayanka was still across the ford - so were half the Sakje horse and most of the clan leaders. Srayanka - he clamped down on those thoughts. ‘Zeus guide me,’ he muttered.
Niceas pressed a cup of warm tea into his hands, and he drank, and shivered when the warmth surged down his throat. ‘Thanks,’ he said. ‘Now get me all the Greek officers - Memnon included. It’s time to talk through how we will fight.’
Diodorus was the first in. Despite his worries, Kineas was pleased to see how naturally Diodorus had taken to command. Indeed, it was now hard to imagine that the man had been a gentleman trooper for four years of campaigning, grumbling about taking his shift on guard, complaining about the weight of his javelins. He appeared taller, and his splendid breastplate and crested helm, even his stance, with his legs a little spread and his hand on his hip, spoke of a commander - as did the slight hollows under his eyes.
‘I’ve barely seen you,’ Kineas said, taking his hand.
Diodorus had taken command of the pickets around the camp as soon as Kineas took command of the Olbians. He returned the pressure and took a cup of hot wine from one of the Sindi men around the fire. ‘Cleomenes,’ he said quietly. ‘Bastard. Worse than home.’
Kineas raised an eyebrow, knowing that Diodorus meant the thirty tyrants in Athens. ‘The vote wasn’t even close. The men will be fine.’
Diodorus shook his head. ‘I saw it coming. Philokles saw it coming - we all saw it, and we couldn’t prevent it.’ He took a drink of wine and glanced at Eumenes who stood with Ajax at the next fire. ‘And that boy’s father killed old Cleitus. It’s
worse
than fucking Athens!’ He glared. ‘And now the bastard can swing south and have a base.’
worse
than fucking Athens!’ He glared. ‘And now the bastard can swing south and have a base.’
Kineas nodded, watching Memnon’s black cloak coming towards the fire. ‘I’m taking precautions.’
‘If he knows - he can cut straight south, march right past us, and cross at the ferry.’ Diodorus drew a rough map in the scorched soil at the edge of the fire pit.
Kineas raised his hands to the gods. ‘I don’t think he will. I think his own image - his idea of who he is - will require him to come right up to our army and fight it.’ He frowned. ‘Cleomenes - I’m assuming he’s in charge in the city - has raised the stakes. In exchange for personal power, he has traded our futures. Now, if we lose, Zopryon really will get the city. And if Zopryon knows that, all the more reason to fight a battle. He must think that one big fight and the whole sea of grass is his - the Euxine cities, the gold of the Scyths, everything.’
While they talked, the others had gathered, and the last light was gone from the sky, so that a ring of faces, pale and dark, listened intently as Diodorus and Kineas discussed the campaign. Memnon stood with his lieutenant, Licurgus, and the commander of the phalanx of Pantecapaeum, Kleisthenes. Nicomedes stood with Ajax, and Leucon with Eumenes and Niceas.
Kineas turned from Diodorus to face all of them. ‘The waiting is over. Zopryon has made good time. He has, according to the king, abandoned his weak and his wounded to move faster in the last week, and he is almost upon us. Tomorrow the king will recall the clans who have harassed Zopryon’s march. We will stand to from the rise of the sun. The phalanx of Olbia will draw up to the north of the ford, right here at the base of our hill. The Phalanx of Pantecapaeum will draw up to the south of the ford. As soon as you are in place, you will drill in closing the ford.’ Kineas drew in the black earth. ‘The phalanx of Olbia will practise closing files and marching by ranks to the left - the phalanx of Pantecapaeum will practise marching by ranks to the right. You see how this will allow us to close the ford - quickly, without panic.’
All the officers nodded. Memnon snorted. ‘We don’t need to practise marching by ranks, Hipparch.’ Kineas looked at Memnon. Memnon met his eye but shifted. ‘Oh, all right. We’ll march up and down a little.’
Kineas relented. ‘Even if the men don’t need the practice, it will help show the Sakje what we’re about.’
‘Fair enough,’ Memnon said. ‘What’re you fancy horse boys doing while we pound the dirt?’
Kineas pointed off into the gloom to the west. ‘Diodorus and Nicomedes will take their men across the ford at first light. They will establish a line of pickets five stades out from the ford. Diodorus will have the command. He will make sure that the ford is not surprised. He will pass every returning clan and provide them with a herald to pass the ford. Leucon will keep his men right here - as a reserve, and as messengers for me, and for the king, should he need them. Leucon will take the men of Pantecapaeum under his command until their hipparch returns. Everyone understand? We’re going to provide security at the ford until the king’s army has returned. The loss of the ford to a surprise would be a catastrophe.’
Ajax raised a hand. ‘Are there other fords?’
Kineas rubbed his beard with his right hand. ‘The Sakje say not. I have Heron of Pantecapaeum scouting the river for a hundred stades either way to make sure.’ He made a sour face. ‘I should have been scouting them three days ago. Now we’re pressed for time. Any other questions?’
Memnon grunted. ‘If they do come for the ford? What then?’
Kineas raised his voice. ‘Tomorrow - and until I say different - if they make a dash for the ford, we close our ranks and stop them. It’s not the battle I want - but we can’t give up the ford until our army is back. So we have no plan for tomorrow beyond this - hold your ground.’
Memnon nodded. ‘I like a simple plan. How big a fight will this be? As big as Issus?’
Kineas thought over what the king had said, and what he had seen in Kam Baqca’s fire. ‘Yes. As big as Issus.’
Memnon jerked his thumb at the huddle of Sindi men at the next fire. ‘Where do you plan to put them?’
Kineas shook his head. ‘I hadn’t given it any thought,’ he said, feeling foolish. Memnon had the ability to get straight under his professional skin.
Memnon grinned. ‘Psiloi can’t win a fight, but they can change one. I’ll put them in the trees right by the ford, where they’ll have a clear shot with their bows - right into the unshielded side of the taxeis
.
Leave it to me.’
.
Leave it to me.’
Kineas agreed. ‘So muster them with the hoplites,’ he said. ‘Anything else?’
Nicomedes leaned forward. ‘What are the odds?’ he asked.
Kineas gave the man a thin smile. ‘Ask me tomorrow. Ask me after I lay eyes on his vanguard. Right now, we’re all starting at shadows. My stomach is flipping like a flute girl in the last hour of a symposium, and every time I glance at the rising moon I think of ten more things I ought to have done.’ He hoped it was the time for such frankness. ‘If Zopryon will cooperate by coming here and camping across the river and offering the battle we’ve prepared for all summer - then, with the aid of the gods, I would say we were worth a sizeable bet.’ He shrugged, thinking again that the Great Bend was
not
the site of his dream battle.
not
the site of his dream battle.
Eumenes’ eyes brimmed with pain and hero worship. ‘You will beat them,’ he said.
‘From your lips to the ears of the gods,’ Kineas replied, flinching from Eumenes’ obvious passion. He poured wine from his cup as a libation, and his hand shook, and the wine flowed over his hand like dark blood.
20
W
ith dawn came thunder that shook the earth, rivalling the hoof beats of the returning Sakje. Fog covered the sun and swathed the riverbanks for a stade, so that a man could only see the length of his spear, and every returning Sakje warrior was a cause for alarm. Ten horses sounded like a hundred - a hundred sounded like ten thousand. By the time the fog burned off, the nerves of the Greek contingent were stretched taut - but they had become accomplished at passing the returning clans across the ford.
ith dawn came thunder that shook the earth, rivalling the hoof beats of the returning Sakje. Fog covered the sun and swathed the riverbanks for a stade, so that a man could only see the length of his spear, and every returning Sakje warrior was a cause for alarm. Ten horses sounded like a hundred - a hundred sounded like ten thousand. By the time the fog burned off, the nerves of the Greek contingent were stretched taut - but they had become accomplished at passing the returning clans across the ford.
The king came with the sun. He was on a plain riding horse, a short chestnut, and he wore no armour and rode alone. He pulled up next to Kineas and sat silently as Memnon and his officers marched the two phalanxes back and forth on the flat ground just short of the ford.
‘I hope you approve,’ Kineas said.
‘Do you really think Zopryon will try to surprise the ford?’ Satrax asked.
Kineas scratched his jaw with the butt of his whip. ‘No,’ he admitted. ‘But we’d look like fools if he did and we weren’t ready.’
Marthax rode up on the king’s far side. He was on a warhorse, with his gorytos belted on and a short sword, although he wore no armour. He pointed across the river. ‘Rain today. More rain tomorrow,’ he said.
All three of them knew that rain could only benefit Zopryon.
Hour by hour, the clouds blew in from the east, and the sky darkened. Hour by hour, the Sakje came in from the west, some triumphant, some beaten. There were empty saddles, and bodies sprawled over the backs of horses; a bare-chested woman reared her horse at the edge of the ford to show the heads she had taken, and a troop of Sauromatae, eyes red-rimmed from fatigue, halted in front of the king to show him their trophies - hair, a helmet, several swords.
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