King of the Bosphorus

11

The days after the feast of Aphrodite were full of work. Satyrus heard the views of each of his officers and then made his own decisions, and it was a week after the mad symposium that he briefed them all on how he saw the winter.

'I am going to take the Golden Lotus to Alexandria,' he said. 'My people deserve to know that I am alive. Further, I need money in quantity and counsel. If I'm lucky, Diodorus will be home for the winter. We need our hired Macedonians – as marines first, and then as the core of our army.'

Theron nodded. None of the other officers had any comment to make.

'Theron will go to Lysimachos as my ambassador in the Herakles.' Satyrus was satisfied with the condition of the Herakles. 'We need to choose a crew from our own sailors, Abraham's and any of the captives who will take service with us for the Hornet.'

Diokles nodded. 'Most of them still come around to the warehouse every morning,' he said. 'You paid them. They're like stray cats when you give them a bowl of milk.'

Theron shook his head. 'You threatened to kill them all!' he protested.

Diokles grinned. 'He's got quite the reputation now,' the Tyrian said.

'Daedalus should be here,' Theron said.

'He's a mercenary and what I need to discuss is still too raw,' Satyrus answered.

Theron shook his head in disagreement. 'Daedalus has been loyal ever since we got here. And he commands a powerful ship and a good crew. And despite what men say, he's no pirate.'

'And what of me?' Abraham asked.

'You're my ambassador to the pirates,' Satyrus said. 'And you get the Hornet for your own, if you want him.'

'Nice.' Abraham smiled. 'That's the best present I've ever had. Mine to keep?'

'Unless you lose him to one of Eumeles' cruisers,' Satyrus shot back.

Abraham shook his head. 'T hanks,' he said again. Then, after a moment, 'You'll go to Rhodos?'

Diokles shook his head. 'I've sailed for Rhodos most of my life,' he said. 'They won't like it, that you came from here. And there must be rumours in every port in the east now – that we're here.'

Satyrus leaned back until his head was against the Sakje tapestry that hung behind him. 'I've thought about this for a week,' he said. 'Hear me and tell me if I'm in the grip of delusion.' He gave them a rueful smile. 'We need Rhodos and the pirates. And Lysimachos. We need them all.'

Diokles smiled. 'Pigs can't fly,' he said.

Theron shook his head. 'Hear him out,' he said.

Abraham rubbed his chin and looked at his friend. 'Do they have a common interest?' he asked.

Satyrus nodded at Abraham. 'Give that man a golden daric. Rhodos wants the pirates gone. We can take them away. If we defeat Eumeles, Demostrate will return to Pantecapaeum and the pirate fleet will disperse. At the very least, they'll be out of the Propontis and the grain fleets will move.'

Diokles whistled. 'Just like that? And Rhodos will just let them go?'

'Rhodos is facing extinction,' Satyrus said. 'They are trying to be the balance point in the war between One-Eye and Ptolemy. They need peace for their hulls to carry cargoes, and they need peace to be able to apply their sea power to the pirates. Instead, they have war all around them and their losses mount. At any moment, one of the adversaries is going to take a fleet and have a go at laying siege to Rhodos. If, at the same time, the pirates are ravaging their merchants – they're dead.'

'Indeed,' Theron said. 'In fact, Antigonus One-Eye is trying to hire pirates on the Syrian coast to serve in his fleet.'

'And while the pirates sit in the Propontis, Lysimachos lacks the power to go into the Euxine and defend his satrapy against Eumeles,' Abraham said. 'I see it! Whereas, when you offer to take the pirates out of the Propontis, you actually turn them into a navy that, to all effects, serves Lysimachos against Eumeles!'

Diokles shook his head. 'But they all hate each other!' he said.

Satyrus sat up, the claw feet of his iron chair smacking the floor with a crack. Then he stood. 'Exactly. They all hate each other – so without a fourth party, they'll never make common cause.'

He looked around at all of them. Kalos sat silent, interested only in returning to his new girl, or to sea, and indifferent to all this politics. Apollodorus had a new bronze thorax with silver inlay and buckles that was attracting most of his attention. Neiron listened attentively, as did the much younger Kleitos, still unsure of himself in such august company.

'Listen,' Satyrus said, and even Apollodorus sat up. 'This planning is just so much dreaming of farms in Attica until they all sign articles. It may be more than we can manage, but it will cost us nothing but a winter under sail. We'll ship small cargoes and turn a profit like good Alexandrian merchants, and if this fails, we will start hiring mercenaries until we can fight Eumeles beak to beak. But this alliance is now. And it will serve Ptolemy as well as it serves us, by freeing Rhodos and empowering Lysimachos, his ally.'

'Too fucking deep for me,' Kalos said. 'You lead, I'll sail.'

Satyrus looked at Theron. 'Is this too complex to succeed?' he asked.

'You need three groups of men to see clearly to their own best interest, past a web of personal loves and hates,' the athlete replied. 'And then you need a port on the Euxine, or have you forgotten? Do you expect Lysimachos to give you Tomis as a base?'

Satyrus nodded. 'I haven't forgotten,' he said. 'I have hurt Tomis too much already. I'd rather not go there again.' He looked around. 'I will if I must. But I have another plan for a port, which I'll share in time. Until then, I think I'll keep it to myself.'

'What of Manes?' Abraham asked. 'Or is he too small for us to worry ourselves with?' He was already drinking wine.

Satyrus addressed all of them again. 'Demostrate ordered me to rid him of Manes.' He shrugged.

'His sailors are making trouble for ours whenever they meet,' Diokles said. 'Ask Neiron.'

Neiron rubbed the back of his head, looked around and shrugged. 'In Rhodos, I'd call the watch. Here, I asked the lads to carry sticks.' He grinned.

Satyrus looked at Abraham. 'So – tell me about Manes.'

'He sees himself as Demostrate's heir,' Abraham said. 'He's a vicious animal without the leadership skills of a shark. Men fear him. Rhodos has a tremendous price on his head.' Abraham shrugged. 'He scares me – he'd do anything to achieve power. The other captains walk around him.'

'Why is he making trouble with us?' Satyrus asked.

Abraham looked at Theron. They shared a look, and then Theron spoke up. 'Already, there's word on the streets here that Demostrate has offered you an alliance. Or perhaps…' Theron grinned. 'Perhaps you are lovers. Don't look shocked – sailors love a good sex scandal. Or perhaps he's naming you his heir. Maybe all three.' Theron shook his head. 'Manes is reacting to all these rumours. Which may come straight from Demostrate, who's pushing him to violence and hoping you'll get rid of him.'

Abraham leaned in. 'Or hoping that Manes will get rid of you,' he added. He shook his head apologetically. 'They're pirates!' he said, as if that explained any amount of treachery.

'I want to sail before the end of the week,' Satyrus said, 'and I don't want Manes interfering with me, here or at sea.'

'Kill him,' Diokles said.

Theron nodded. 'Public service,' he said.

Abraham looked around. 'Goodness,' he said. 'And I thought I was getting coarse here.'

Satyrus walked to the sideboard and poured himself more hot wine. 'The cost of kingship,' he said. The wine he poured was like blood flowing into a cup, and the gesture wasn't lost on any of them. 'I'll fight him man to man, but I want him trapped into it and I want his sailors helpless. Any suggestions?'

Abraham nodded. 'It has to be man to man,' he said, 'if you want these criminals to follow you.'

'I see that,' Satyrus said, betraying his impatience. 'Although I won't hide from you that this Manes scares me, too. He's the sort to walk down your spear and kill you when he's dead himself.'

Diokles was nodding to himself. 'I don't know about any of that,' he said, 'but Manes is claiming that you're actually a prisoner held for ransom, not a free captain.'

Theron scratched under his beard.

'So he'd have to prevent Satyrus from leaving,' he said slowly.

Satyrus agreed immediately. 'Neat. So our next action will precipitate his. How do we trap him?'

'He doesn't look very bright,' Kalos grunted.

'Takes one to know one,' Diokles quipped.

'Pipe down, you two,' Satyrus said. 'He's got the largest contingent after Demostrate. He can't be a fool.'

'Fear has its own courage. Perhaps it also has its own intelligence,' Theron said.

'I have an idea,' Kleitos said quietly. 'Listen – you'll need to build new crews. Yes?'

Satyrus nodded.

'Here's what we could do,' Kleitos began. The next day, Satyrus promoted Kalos to trierarch aboard Golden Lotus and then promoted all the other officers to fill the gaps in his flotilla. Neiron was to be helmsman on the Lotus. Kleitos received the Hornet under Abraham, and Diokles became helmsman on the Falcon – helmsman and trierarch together. Theron went back to his Labours of Herakles, which hadn't taken the casualties of the other ships and had all her standing officers intact – Antiphon of Rhodos was his helmsman, a steady man who disliked Byzantium and the pirates so thoroughly that he only came ashore to buy supplies.

The promotions were private, but the men in question made sacrifices at the Temple of Poseidon – except Diokles, who made sacrifice at the Temple of Zeus Casios, the conqueror of the oceans. The sacrifices were public knowledge and led to a certain amount of gossip – more, when they began laying in stores of amphorae and purchasing supplies – and cargoes.

Byzantium was glutted with grain – the result of the repeated seizure of cargoes coming down the Euxine from Olbia, Pantecapaeum and the northern grain fields. War galleys make poor cargo ships, but the Golden Lotus with her three and a half oar decks and deeper draught was designed to fight and carry cargo, and he at least could take a respectable amount of grain.

The other crews mocked Neiron as he loaded the Lotus. Most of his men were former captives, and they did not bear the taunting well, lacking the discipline of the old crew. There were fights.

There were worse than fights, as it turned out that some of the grain was rotten, or rat's dung, and Neiron felt that he'd been taken. He remonstrated with a merchant, who laughed in his face and snapped his fingers. 'You bought it,' the merchant said.

Another day and one of Neiron's senior rowers was killed – gutted in the agora by one of Manes' men.

Satyrus complained to Demostrate, who told him that he should look to his own.

Manes' men began to prowl close to the warehouse, smashing the Lotus's boats when they were left on the beach and beating any oarsmen from the Lotus that they caught alone.

The new crew of the Lotus grew more and more resentful – first, that they were treated so, and second, that their enemies received no punishment. By contrast, Manes' men grew louder and more determined.

A careful observer might have noticed that neither Abraham nor any of the veteran crewmen of the original Black Falcon were anywhere to be seen, on the streets or in the wine shops. They played no role in the fighting and they suffered no indignities.

Four days after the new captains made their sacrifices, Satyrus attended another symposium – this one considerably less colourful than the last. He lay on the same couch as Daedalus. The Halicarnassian seemed surprised to find him there.

'I heard that you were lading your ships,' he said. He was more than a little distant.

Satyrus ate a grape. 'Listen,' he said, 'tomorrow there will be some trouble. I'm keeping you clear of it. After tomorrow, I'd like to invite you to return to my table – and my council.'

'After the trouble? This isn't a bid for my aid against Manes?' Daedalus asked, clearly incredulous. 'He's out for your blood, lad. Your uncle would have my arse if I didn't help you.' He shook his head. 'I've expected a message from you for a week.'

'After the trouble,' Satyrus said. 'I'll explain tomorrow. For the moment, it would be enough if you'd give me a good, sharp shove off the kline.'

'Are you a fool? I'm most of what is standing between you and Manes ripping your guts out!'

Satyrus had to smile – Daedalus, the mercenary, was living up to his high reputation as a man who, once bought, stayed bought. 'I know that,' Satyrus said. 'Believe me, you don't want to be involved,' he said.

Daedalus shook his head. 'But after tomorrow, you'll explain?'

'By this time tomorrow, it'll all be clear as a new day at sea,' Satyrus said.

Daedalus shook his head. And put his elbow into Satyrus's gut, shoving him brutally to the floor, so that Satyrus's chiton was fouled with old wine and worse.

'Keep your juvenile plotting,' the mercenary growled.

Satyrus hoped that he was acting. He got up, rubbing his ribs – that was real enough – and slunk back to his own couch. On the way, Manes glared at him with his bestial glare, and Satyrus avoided his eye.

'Look,' Manes growled. 'It's the prisoner! Buying grain for a long captivity, boy?' he asked, and his own adherents laughed.

Satyrus stepped back, putting more distance between Manes and himself. 'I'm no man's prisoner,' he said. His voice wasn't as firm as the other pirates would have liked to hear, and there was some mockery.

'We'll see in the morning,' Manes said. He laughed. 'What a ransom you'll fetch!'

'I'm a captain, not a prisoner. Talk to Demostrate if you doubt my word,' Satyrus said.

'Your word is worthless here, captive.' Manes looked around. 'And Demostrate is a captain among captains. If he spurns your ransom, the more fool he.' Manes laughed, a hard sound for most men to hear.

Satyrus appeared to force himself to stand firm. 'Prove it,' he said mildly. 'Fight me.'

Manes sat up. 'Fuck you, boy. I may bugger you in the street, if I want.'

'Afraid of me?' Satyrus asked, conversationally. Now, the tide was turning. Men didn't mock Manes, and this was too rich.

Manes swung his feet off his couch. 'I fear nothing. Not you, not Demostrate, not Rhodos. I am the terror of the coasts, the lord of the sea.'

Satyrus gave him a mocking bow. 'Really? So – you'll fight!'

Manes reached for his sword and Satyrus's fingers ached for his own hilt. Manes was terrifying and his arms were long. If he drew first…

Ganymede reached out and touched his master's arm and whispered in his ear.

Manes stopped, and breathed deeply. 'I do not need to fight you, boy.'

Satyrus gave the beast a mocking smile. 'I think you'll find that you'd have done better to fight me,' he said.

Manes growled, and the hair stood up on Satyrus's neck.

Demostrate was watching, but he took no action. Again Ganymede took his master's arm, and this time he whispered furiously in his master's ear. Manes shook him off, but then he turned his back on Satyrus and stomped off, head high.

'Coward,' Satyrus said, loud and clear.

Manes paused, his foot actually in the air, and then took the next step. He walked from the symposium, accompanied by a roar of comment.

Satyrus grinned at the other drinkers, and then headed after him. He didn't follow Manes all the way to the outside door – he was quite sure what reception would greet him there. Instead, he walked down the slave stairs and through the kitchen, emerging from the slave entrance straight into the midst of Apollodorus's marines, who ran him through the streets to Abraham's. They battened down the hatches. Despite all of Satyrus's precautions, Manes made no provocative move during the night.

'By Apollo, that man scares me,' Satyrus said, as he sipped hot wine. The sun was still under the lip of the world, but the warehouse was lit from end to end as the sailors prepared to man the Lotus.

'He is one of those men who seem to be greater, or less, than human,' Theron said.

Satyrus nodded. 'He must die. When he goes down at my hand, there will be no more tests – no more humiliations, and no more slave girls on my couch.'

Theron shook his head. 'Lad, you are about to try to kill a monster to avoid having to make love to beautiful women. I don't have to be Philokles to point out the fallacy of your position.'

Satyrus didn't turn his head. 'I will not be mocked about this.'

Theron shrugged. 'We go to dice with Moira,' Theron said. 'I won't offend you more.'

Satyrus nodded. 'Good. Are we ready?'

'We're ready. You are sure he will attack us?' Theron asked. He closed the last clasp on his breastplate.

'Short of leading him on a rope, I've done all I can to provoke his attack. His minion spent the last minutes of the symposium reminding him that he was going to kill me in the morning, and there was no need to risk himself in the night. It must be now. We've all but advertised our sailing time.' Satyrus shook his head.

'Who are you reassuring?' Theron asked.

'Myself,' Satyrus said. 'He terrifies me. But this must be done.'

'Would it make you feel better if I said you were like a force of nature yourself?' Theron asked.

Satyrus nodded. 'Yes,' he said, and smiled. Satyrus need not have worried. They were two streets from the beach when he saw the two-wheeled cart pushed across the narrow street and men with torches began to fill the space around his column of sailors.

Satyrus was at the head of the column, with Theron and Neiron. He stopped. He was in full armour and had an aspis on his shoulder. His helmet was already closed over his face.

'Satyrus!' Manes roared. He stepped out from a side street. 'Throw down your weapons. Or I'll kill all your men.'

Indeed, the whole crew of his four ships could be seen, every man of them carrying a torch and a club or a sword. They outnumbered the crew of the Falcon by two to one or more.

'I doubt that you could,' Satyrus said. He raised his aspis, expecting an arrow from the dark. 'Why don't you fight me, man to man?'

Manes laughed again. 'In the dark? Anything can happen in a fight in the dark. That's what you want, isn't it? I want something different.' He laughed again. 'Last chance. Throw down that toy shield and be a slave. The way you should have been from the moment you arrived.'

Satyrus didn't lower his aspis. 'Last chance, Manes. Walk away.' In a loud, clear voice, he bellowed, 'Kill his archers!'

Even inside his helmet, he heard the arrows coming. Several struck his shield, driving him back a step, and one rang off his helmet, and another stung him along the back of his knee. Behind him, a man screamed.

That was not according to plan.

Then, a little late, his own archers rose up from ambush in the darkness and shot – mostly at a range of a few feet. Manes' men screamed as they died.

Manes froze, a snarl on his face. He was a beast – but a cunning beast.

'So,' he spat.

Satyrus's shield arm hurt. He had a lot of poppy in him to keep himself steady, and he needed to get this over with. But even through the drug, Manes scared him.

'Sword to sword, Manes. Right now.' Satyrus stepped forward, swinging his aspis into line despite the pain in his arm.

Manes backed away in the flickering light. 'Just so your archers can shoot me in the back?' he said. 'No chance. Your day will come, little fucker. And then I'll do you. Maybe I'll use you for a while before I kill you – how's that?'

Satyrus pressed forward and raised his voice. 'Sounds like a lot of talk from a man who won't stand and fight.'

Manes' eyes were everywhere, and his paramour caught his sword hand and pulled him back, back again, into the wary circle of his men.

'Fuck you, boy!' he shouted at Satyrus.

Satyrus shouted back, 'Twice you've backed down, cur! Dog! Coward!' He laughed. 'And the other scum are afraid of you?'

But Manes' crews were backing away in the street, a strong shield wall facing Satyrus and another facing to where the crew of the Falcon had appeared on their flank.

'Do it,' Neiron said at his side.

'No,' Abraham said. His armour was so well polished that it reflected every pinpoint of light in the street. He looked like something superhuman. 'No. If you start a battle here, we'll lose men, and Manes will escape anyway. And the pirates will hate you. You have to get him to fight.'

'Ares, I tried,' Satyrus said.

Abraham laughed. 'We heard. He'll be a long time living this down. Hurry back.'

Satyrus frowned. 'He'll try for you,' he said.

Abraham hugged him. 'I can ride the lion,' he said. 'Go and do what you have to do. And give my regards to my father.'