Killer Of Men Part 39

I never forgot, though, and I a.s.sume he didn't either.

He sent me to sea immediately, that evening, with orders to haunt the Asian coast. It should have been a happy autumn, but the politics of the Ionian camp were vicious, and I would have done better to enquire more closely from where my fountain of gold had come. Now that I served Miltiades, I was tied to the faction that favoured the war. There was a peace faction led by none other than the author of the revolt, Aristagoras, who now espoused a peaceful solution. Men said that he had been bought by the Medes with golden darics, and other men said that he feared the Great King.

I discovered, in between short cruises in the Ionian Sea, that Miltiades had informers everywhere, and that being his man did have benefits. He heard of a pair of Phoenician biremes taking a cargo of copper and ivory up the coast of Asia for Heraklea in the Euxine. We took them off the islands without so much as a fight and you can be sure that I had Miltiades' half bagged and ready before my stern touched the beach.

Autumn was well-advanced when we heard that the Ionian cities of the Troad had all fallen in two short weeks, as Artaphernes took the Great King's army and besieged and captured them. Our morale plummeted, and men and s.h.i.+ps deserted. The last of the Chians sailed away and only the Aeolians remained.

The tyrant of Mytilene demanded that Miltiades leave. Our piracy that's what he called it was bringing the city into ill repute. What the b.a.s.t.a.r.d meant was that our ongoing commercial war against the Medes was costing his city, which was losing business to Methymna, around the coast of Lesbos.

Salamis, the last free city of Cyprus, fell in late autumn.

Miltiades called his captains to council. It was a fine day, with a stiff west wind blowing. We'd been beach-bound for ten days with bad weather and no targets. The Asians were staying well clear of Lesbos, and the bad feeling between Aristagoras and Miltiades had reached a new height. Men said I was to blame. Some even said that Briseis had had an affair with Miltiades himself foolishness, as she was eight months pregnant and hundreds of stades around the coast of the island, but that's the sort of wickedness that spreads in a divided camp.

'We're leaving,' he said. That was it the whole council reduced to a few words. He wasn't much for a lot of talk, unless it was his own.

'Back home?' Heraklides asked.

'What do you call home, Piraean?' Miltiades asked.

'Chersonese,' Herk said. He grinned. 'Don't act the tyrant with us, lord. The wind is fair for the Chersonese and we can lie on our couches with buxom Thracians before the first snow falls.'

One of Miltiades' captains was Cimon, his eldest son. Metiochos, his second son, was his other most trusted captain. That's how the old aristocratic families worked plenty of sons who could be trusted as war captains. I love to hear men call the Athenians 'democrats' as if any of them ever wanted wanted to give power to common men. If Miltiades had had his way, he'd have been lord of the Chersonese first and then tyrant of Athens. He only loved democracy when it packed the phalanx with fighters. to give power to common men. If Miltiades had had his way, he'd have been lord of the Chersonese first and then tyrant of Athens. He only loved democracy when it packed the phalanx with fighters.

Hah! I'm a fine one to talk. Look at me, lording it in Thrace. There's no hypocrite like an old hypocrite.

At any rate, Cimon was my age, a man just coming into his reputation. I liked him. And he was not afraid of his father. 'We're going back to bad wine and blonde Thracian women because Pater is under sentence of death in Athens!' he said the first the rest of us had heard of it.

Miltiades' look told me that he hadn't intended the rest of us to know, but Cimon just laughed.

I never knew exactly when and where Miltiades and Aristagoras had started to be allies, and I never knew when they had a falling out, although I suspect that Briseis and I played our part. I still don't know. But Miltiades did all the thinking that won us the Battle of Amathus in that much, I suppose the b.a.s.t.a.r.d deserved a share of my spoils. And I guess that Miltiades had no stomach for peace with the Medes not that he hated them, but because he made his fortune preying on their s.h.i.+ps and he needed that money to make himself tyrant at Athens, or that's how I see it now.

I should have said earlier that by the time Miltiades wanted us to leave, Aristagoras had been supplanted by his former master, Histiaeus of Miletus, who had served the Great King as a general for years and then deserted suddenly. He must have been a great fool the Ionians were all but beaten when he joined us, and many men thought that he was a double traitor come to betray us into the hands of the Persians. In fact, I suspect he was one of those tragic men who make bad decision after bad decision his betrayal of the Great King was foolish and dishonourable, and all his subsequent behaviour was of a piece. I only met him once, and that was on the beach at Mytilene. He was haranguing Aristagoras as if the latter was a small boy. I stayed to listen and laugh, and Aristagoras saw me, and the hatred in his eyes made me laugh louder. No one respected him by then. His failure to lead us against the Medes anywhere and especially to help the men of the Troad, when our fleet was just a hundred stades away, showed that he was a fool, if not a coward.

At any rate, Histiaeus's arrival was the last straw. I think that Miltiades imagined that he would become the leader of the Ionian Revolt and eventually the tyrant of all Ionia. And they would have been better for having him, I can tell you, honey. He may have been a b.a.s.t.a.r.d about money, but he was a war-leader. Men loved to follow him.

I ramble. Here, mix some of that lovely water from the spring in the bowl, and add apples by Artemis, girl, do you blush just for the mention of apples? What a delicate flower you must be thugater, where did you find her? Now pour that in my cup.

We sailed away ahead of the first winter storm, and just as Heraklides predicted, we were soon snug on our couches at Miltiades' great palace at Kallipolis.

Aristagoras took his own retainers and fled to the mainland of Thrace. He had founded a colony there, at Myrcinus, and he abandoned the rebellion, or so Miltiades' informers reported. I wondered where Briseis was. She must be bitter, I thought from the queen of the Ionian Revolt to the wife of a failed traitor in three short years.

The winter pa.s.sed quickly enough. I bought a pretty Thracian slave and learned the language from her. I taught the Pyrrhiche to all my oarsmen, and kept them at it through the whole rainy winter, and we went together to celebrate the feast of Demeter, and the return of the sailing season.

I was another year older. I dreamed all winter of ravens, and when the flowers began to bloom I saw a pair rise from a day-old kill and fly away west, and I knew that it was an omen, that I should be going home to Plataea, but there was nothing there for me I thought. I worried more about my oath to Hipponax and Archilogos, which goes to show what fools men are about fate.

In the spring, Histiaeus declared himself commander of the Ionian Alliance, and set the rendezvous of the fleet at Mytilene again, where he had, over the winter, made himself tyrant. He did it the simple way his picked men infiltrated the citadel, then he killed the old tyrant with his own hands and every one of his children, too. Soaked in blood, he stepped forward to the applause the terrified applause, I a.s.sume of the town.

Miltiades told us the tale at dinner, shaking his head with disgust. 'Should have been you,' I said. I didn't mean it as flattery simple fact. 'Not the killings the lords.h.i.+p.'

He grinned at me. We were almost friends again which is to say, he was unchanged, and I had almost forgiven him. Miltiades' land of the Chersonese was the most polyglot kingdom I'd ever seen Thracians and Asiatics and Greeks and Sakje at every hand, at dinner and in the temples. If Paramanos was the only black man, he was not the only foreigner. He loved the place, and my fear about his loyalties began to relax. At any rate, that afternoon, we had been joined by Olorus, the king of the local Thracians and Miltiades' father-in-law.

He grunted. 'That Aristagoras,' he said. 'I visited him over the winter. He's a greedy fool, and if he keeps taking slaves out of the Bastarnae and the Getae, they'll kill him.'

Miltiades nodded. 'He is a greedy fool,' he said.

'Does he have his wife with him?' I asked, trying to sound uninterested.

He grinned. 'Now, that is a woman!' he said. 'By all the G.o.ds, Miltiades count yourself lucky you didn't marry her. She is all the spine Aristagoras lacks.'

Miltiades shrugged. 'I met her on Lesbos,' he said. 'She is too intelligent to be beautiful.' He looked at me.

Heh, honey, that's how men like Miltiades like their women. Dumb. Fear not I won't marry you to one of those. Miltiades' chief wife he had several concubines was Hegesipyle, as beautiful as a dawn and as stupid as a cow tied to a post. Olorus's daughter, in fact. I couldn't stand to talk to her. She had never read anything, never been anywhere my Thracian slave was better educated. I know, because I taught her Greek letters in exchange for her teaching me Thracian, and then we read Sappho together. And Alcaeus.

Oh, I'm an old man and I tell these stories like a moth darting around a candle flame.

The point of telling you about that dinner is that Miltiades rose and told us that we would not be joining the rebels. 'The Ionian Revolt is only dangerous to the fools who play at it,' he said, and his bitterness was obvious. He was a man who sought constantly for greatness, and greatness kept pa.s.sing him by.

Cimon was there. He had a lovely girl on his couch, I remember, because she had bright red hair and we all teased him about what her children would look like. Miltiades had red hair, too, remember.

He rose. 'So what will we do to win honour this summer?' he asked.

Miltiades shook his head, and he sounded both bitter and old. 'Win honour? There is no honour in this world. But we'll fill the treasury while old Artaphernes is busy with his rebellion.'

He had a grand plan for a raid down the Asian coast, all the way past Tyre to the harbour of Naucratis. I frowned when I heard it, because I knew the idea must have come from Paramanos.

We sailed after the spring storms seemed to have blown themselves out. We sailed right past the beach at Mytilene. They must have thought we were on our way to join them, but we didn't so much as spend the night. We stayed on Chios instead, and Stephanos gave money to his mother and impressed all his friends with his riches and then sailed away, and I was a little jealous of the ease with which he returned home and left. His sister was married now and had three sons, and I held one on my knee and thought about how quickly the world was changing. And I wondered if Miltiades was right, that there was no more honour to be had.

We fell on the Aegyptian merchants like foxes on geese. All the cities of Cyprus had fallen by then, and they didn't think there was a Greek within a thousand stades. We came out of a grey dawn, five wars.h.i.+ps, our rowers hard and strong from the trip south, and they didn't have a single trireme to protect them. I didn't even get blood on my sword. Greeks have a name for when a wrestler wins a match without getting his back dirty we call it a 'dustless' victory. We took those poor b.a.s.t.a.r.ds and we were dustless.

I took three merchants myself.

When a squadron came out of the port, too late to save their merchants, we scattered.

I ran south, at the advice of Paramanos. I dumped the rowers from the s.h.i.+ps we'd taken on the low dunes of Aegypt and kept the gold and bronze and the gigantic eggs of some fabulous animal Africa is full of monsters, or so I'm told. There was a slave girl, too ill-use all over her, and a flinch reflex like a beaten dog. I kept her and treated her well, and she brought me luck.

We picked up another pair of Aegyptian merchants just north of Naucratis the day after the raid, s.h.i.+ps inbound with no idea of what had happened. More silver and gold, and Cyprian copper. The bilge of Storm Cutter Storm Cutter was filled so deep that we had a hard time beaching the s.h.i.+p, and rowing was a horror. was filled so deep that we had a hard time beaching the s.h.i.+p, and rowing was a horror.

I beached again, carefully, fed my crew on stolen goat meat and sent the newly captured crewmen to walk back to Naucratis. Then I went west, to Cyrene. That was for Paramanos. He'd found a girl he fancied in the Chersonese, a free Thracian woman, and he'd decided to pick up his children, which filled me with joy because that meant that he was committed to me. It was touch and go in Cyrene the authorities knew us for what we were, but Paramanos was a citizen, and they chose not to tangle with my marines. His sister brought his daughters to the boat, clutching their rag dolls, the poor little things they wept and wept to be put on a boat full of men, and hard men at that. But some things earn the smiles of the G.o.ds, and my Aegyptian slave girl turned out to be a fine dry-nurse. She was ridiculously thankful, now that she found she wasn't to be raped every night. And I have noticed this, honey animals and people repay good treatment. And the G.o.ds see.

We put to sea with a strong south wind coming hot and hard off Africa. We hadn't dared to sell even an ostrich egg out of the hold in Cyrene they didn't like us, and Paramanos feared that the council would seize the s.h.i.+p. I spent the whole night afraid that he would change his spots and betray us. Which shows that I had something to learn about men.

The wind was fair for Crete. We had a hold full of copper and gold and I knew a good buyer. Besides, I wanted to know how Lekthes was doing, the b.a.s.t.a.r.d.

I'm laughing, because most Greek captains thought that it was a great thing just to go down the coast of Asia, or across the deep blue from Cyprus to Crete, but thanks to Paramanos, I sailed the wine-dark as if I owned it, and every night he showed me the stars and how to read them the way the Phoenicians read them.

Good times.

Paramanos was showing off for his daughters and they reciprocated, turning into a pair of little sailors. Ten days at sea and they could climb masts. The elder girl, Niobe, had a trick that scared me spitless every time I saw her do it when we were under way, rowing full out, she would run along the oar looms, a foot on each oar.

The oarsmen loved her. Every s.h.i.+p needs a brave, funny, athletic eleven-year-old girl.

Probably as part of his showing-off for his girls, Paramanos made a disgustingly accurate landfall on Crete, and was insufferable as a result. We walked up the beach at Gortyn's little port and were welcomed like Homeric heroes better, in that quite a few of them were murdered. Nearchos embraced me as if he'd forgotten that we weren't lovers, and his father was decidedly warmer than I feared.

'Tell me everything!' Nearchos said. 'Nothing has happened here, of course,' he said, glowering at his father.

So I bragged a little of the raid and I talked of the sea. I was falling in love again with Poseidon's daughters, as the fisherfolk say. But the sea bored Nearchos boats were a tool for glory, not an end in themselves.

'You raided Aegypt?' Lord Achilles asked. 'Your Miltiades is a bold rascal. You must be a bold rascal yourself.'

I raised my cup to him and we pledged each other until I stumbled out of the hall into the rose garden and puked up an amphora of good wine. But I gave each of them a cup of beaten gold half the wages they'd given me, returned in a guest-gift, and then they were my friends for life.

In the morning, I had a hard head, but I went to visit the bronze-smith. He wanted to buy all my copper, as I expected he would. I gave him a good price and we parted with a dozen embraces.

'Any time you want to give up piracy,' he said, 'I could make you a decent smith.'

I waved to him and went down to the fishermen's village and found Troas. He was sitting by his Lesbian boat, mending a net.

'I heard you was back,' he said. He didn't look up. 'She's wed and well wed, and it's your boy she calved first. So don't go making trouble.' Then he looked at me. 'She called him Hipponax,' he said. 'And we all thank you for the boat.'

I'd sold a pair of the eggs and all the copper. I put a bag on the upturned boat hull. 'For the boy, when he's a man,' I said. I had planned a long speech or perhaps just a blow. I hadn't forgotten how he'd given me a boatload of fools.

But standing there on the beach, by his upturned boat, I had to acknowledge to the G.o.ds that his boatload of fools had made me the trierach I was. His hands and the G.o.ds had helped make me. Still, I glared at him.

'You nigh on killed me with your cast-off men,' I said.

'I had no reason to send my neighbours and friends with you, boyo,' he said, calmly enough.

'I got them home even the fools,' I said.

'Aye, you're a better man than some,' Troas said. He nodded, and that was my apology.

'I'd like to see my boy,' I said.

'Nope,' Troas answered. 'My fool of a daughter took quite a s.h.i.+ne to you, my young Achilles. She's just about over it now, and settling down to be a prosperous fisherwoman. She almost loves her husband, who's a good man and not a f.u.c.king killer.' His eyes held mine, as tough in his way as Eualcidas or Nearchos or Miltiades. Then he nodded. 'On your way, hero,' he said. 'No hard feelings. Come back in five years, if you're alive, and I'll see to it that you and your boy are friends.'

I felt a rush of sadness? Rage? And a lump in my throat as big as one of the ostrich eggs.

'Can I give you a piece of advice, lad?' Troas asked.

I slumped against the boat hull. 'I'm listening,' I said.

He nodded. 'You think you're happy as a hero, but you ain't. You're a farm boy. It's not too late to go back to the farm. I saw you play house with my daughter and I didn't figure you'd ever come back. But the fact that you did come back tells a whole different story.' He went back to his net. 'That's all I have for you, son.'

It is odd how quickly you go from the killer of men to the bereft boy. 'I have no home,' I said. I still remember the taste of those words, which slipped past the fence of my teeth against my will.

Troas looked at me then. Really looked at me. 'Don't give me that s.h.i.+t,' he said, but his tone was kind. 'Go and make one.' And he got up and embraced me Troas, giving me a hug for comfort.

That's the way of youth, honey. One moment you are Achilles risen from the dead, the next an old net-mender feels sorry for you. And each moment is as real as the other.

I got to my feet. I was crying, and I didn't know why.

'Still some human in you, eh, boy?' he said. 'Give me another hug then, and I'll pa.s.s it to your son in a few years.' He held me close. 'If you don't leave this life soon, all you'll be is a killer,' he said.

I held him hard, and then I went back down the beach to my s.h.i.+p. Nearchos was waiting, with Lekthes. Lekthes was standing with a sea bag on his shoulder and all his armour nicely s.h.i.+ned. His wife held his hand and wept. I kissed her and promised to bring him home, and then I embraced Nearchos.

'I have three s.h.i.+ps and all the men to man them,' Nearchos said. 'When you when you want me, call. We'll come.'

I sailed away with a lump in my throat.

Part V

An Equal Exchange for Fire.

All things are an equal exchange for fire and fire [is an equal exchange] for all things, as goods are for gold and gold for goods. All things are an equal exchange for fire and fire [is an equal exchange] for all things, as goods are for gold and gold for goods.

Herac.l.i.tus, fr. 90 It is necessary to know that war is common and right is strife and that all things happen by strife and necessity.

Herac.l.i.tus, fr. 80

20.

We didn't see another s.h.i.+p until we were north of Miletus the rebels and Miltiades between them had swept the oceans clean. North of Samos we caught a merchantman out of Ephesus I knew the s.h.i.+p as soon as I saw him on the horizon. It had been Hipponax's pride, a big, long merchant with enough rowers to be a wars.h.i.+p. I remembered what Briseis had said, that Diomedes had taken all their wealth, and we ran him down easily enough. They used slave rowers, and slaves will never save your cargo.

With my spear at his throat, the captain admitted that he served Diomedes of Ephesus.

I took the s.h.i.+p as well as the cargo, and all the slaves at the oars, too. But I put the deck crew ash.o.r.e east of Samos. 'Tell Diomedes that Arimnestos took his s.h.i.+p,' I said. 'Tell him that I'm waiting for him.' I laughed to think how the little s.h.i.+t would react.

And then I took my new s.h.i.+p back to the Chersonese. On the way, I stood in my bow and wondered at what Troas had said, and how I had cried. How could I ever give this up to shovel pig s.h.i.+t? I was a lord of the waves, a killer of men. I laughed, and the gulls cried.

But over on the European coast of the Chersonese, a raven cawed, the raucous sound braying on and on.

Miltiades came down to the docks to meet us, and I laid his share of the take at his feet every obol and he shook his head.