‘I merely meant that you seem to do this better than the rest of us,’ Satyrus said.
‘I’ll just write my notes up and make a smooth tablet, shall I, my lord?’ Idomenes clutched his tablets to him as if to protect him from wrath, and slipped out.
Theron shook his head. ‘He’s not even slimy. He’s a good man. Why does he act like a snake?’
Satyrus shrugged.
Coenus pursed his lips, rubbed his beard and took a drink. ‘He lived too long with snakes, I think. Never mind — he’ll get used to us.’ He took a stylus from behind his ear and made a note in his own tablet. ‘Where do you think Diodorus is, anyway?’
Theron shrugged. ‘Idomenes has the latest letter — but you’ve seen it.’
‘I haven’t,’ said Satyrus. He turned to his hypaspist, who stood by the wall. ‘Helios, fetch Idomenes back and ask him to bring the latest letter from Diodorus.’
Helios bowed and vanished through the door.
‘You’re spending a fortune on your fleet,’ Coenus remarked, looking at a list.
‘Yes,’ Satyrus said. He was tempted to add it’s mine to spend, but he bit it back. The ‘conspiracy of the old’ made him react like a callow youth, but he wasn’t so callow any more.
Coenus shrugged. ‘Well — it’s yours to spend.’ He looked up when Satyrus made a choking sound. ‘Artillery?’
‘We were already getting weapons for the towers,’ Satyrus said.
‘Draco and Amyntas are installing the new pieces today,’ Theron put in. ‘I saw Draco on the wharf, covered in shavings.’
Satyrus glanced around. ‘I want to see that!’ Then he sat back and fiddled with his belt of gold links. ‘When we’ve finished here, of course.’
The two older men laughed. They were still laughing when Idomenes came back with a sheepskin bladder of scrolls. ‘Letters from Babylon?’ he asked.
‘Latest from Diodorus?’ Satyrus asked.
‘Came yesterday. My apologies, lord — I read it out for Theron while you were playing with the ambassadors.’
To Satyrus, King of the Bosporus, and Melitta, the Lady of the Assagetae, and the rest of you: greetings.
We appear to be in for another summer without fighting — a mercenary’s dream. Demetrios seems to be in Greece, facing Cassander and ‘liberating’ Athens. It occurs to me that if Demetrios really does take Athens, Stratokles will suddenly be tempted too — and Heraklea could be a dangerous ally. But I’m an old and very suspicious man.
‘Lord, it would appear that Demetrios has entered Athens.’ Idomenes raised his eyes from the scroll. ‘We have that news from several sources.’
Coenus nodded. ‘All the more reason for you to hurry down to Heraklea.’
Antigonus is rumoured to be building up his fleet and preparing to have a go at Aegypt. If so, Ptolemy is more than ready for him — he declined a contract with us, saying that we cost too much! So he must be confident, the old skinflint. But Antigonus is serious, and he’s busy buying the alliance of all the pirates in Cilicia and Ionia. Rumour in Alexandria before I left suggested that your old friend Demostrate declined his offer.
Demostrate was the king of the pirates of the Chersonese, and had long been an ally. His ships had been instrumental in taking Tanais from its former tyrant. ‘Thanks the gods for that,’ Coenus said. ‘Demostrate going over to Antigonus would be the end of our shipping.’
Satyrus shuddered at the thought of the golden horn being closed to his merchant ships.
I’m going to accompany an embassy to the Parni, as our squadrons have more Sakje speakers than anyone else in Babylon. I will be out of contact for several months, but I’ll see more of the world. Darius sends his greetings, as do Sitalkes and a dozen others. Keep well — I plan to retire there, lad!
Of all of them, only Diodorus — the commander of his father’s former mercenary company, the ‘Exiles’ — and Coenus and his father’s other friends still called him ‘lad’. He laughed. The letter was like having Diodorus present in the room, if only for a few lines.
‘Who are the Parni?’ Satyrus asked.
‘No idea,’ Theron answered, and even Idomenes shook his head.
Two hours on the grain tax, and more on warehouse space in Olbia — he really needed to visit Olbia, and soon. Eumenes the archon was an old family friend, but he was a gentleman farmer, not a merchant, and the town merchants were none too happy. The warehouse space for the grain tax was so damp and rat-infested that they were losing money.
A farewell meal was given for Antigonus’ ambassador. Satyrus was pleasant, and Theron was the picture of a gentleman and former Olympic athlete. Niocles was charmed and annoyed by turns.
‘You intend to send your grain to Rhodes this year, my lord?’ he asked, as the roast duck was served and the tuna steaks were removed.
Satyrus had hoped to avoid serious talk, and he saw his precious artillery slipping away. All the frames would be installed before he even got to the wharf.
Satyrus shrugged with well-feigned nonchalance. ‘Wherever we get the best price,’ he replied. ‘A matter for merchants,’ he said, hoping to chill the topic.
‘My lord would prefer if your grain bypassed Rhodes. And Alexandria.’ Niocles drank some wine. ‘Your cook is to be praised. The tuna was better than anything I had in Athens.’
‘You were in Athens, with Demetrios?’ Satyrus asked. Theron grinned and turned his head.
Niocles looked around. ‘Yes — yes, I was. It is not widely known yet that my lord has taken Athens.’
‘Perhaps not known by those who lack the proper conduits of information,’ Satyrus said with a smile. ‘So: you have Athens. And Athens needs grain.’ He nodded. ‘Take it up with my merchants,’ he said firmly.
‘Athens needs grain. As do many other cities.’ Niocles nodded. ‘I’m sure that your merchants would find it worth their while to turn west when they pass the Dardanelles.’
Satyrus shook his head. ‘My ships go where they will,’ he said. ‘Most of our cargoes go on foreign hulls anyway. Athens, for instance, buys most of Olbia’s grain.’ His voice carried the clear message — this subject is closed.
‘But you have grain of your own, lord. You are dissembling, but there are fifteen ships in the mole, all loading grain from your warehouses.’ Niocles leaned back, sure he’d scored a point.
‘You sound more like a spy than an ambassador,’ Satyrus said. He was bored, annoyed that he was missing the installation of his artillery and even more annoyed that Antigonus’ ambassador continued to make all these demands. ‘I declare your embassage over. This instant. Begone.’ Satyrus rolled off his couch. Helios stepped to his side and handed him his sword, and he put it on over his head, donned his chlamys of royal purple and turned back. ‘If he’s not on his ship in an hour, kill him,’ Satyrus said to Hama. Hama nodded.
‘You’re insane!’ Niocles said. ‘Lord, I meant no — that is — ambassadors!’
Whatever he was going to say was lost as Satyrus walked in through the doors of his private apartments.
He changed into a plain natural wool chiton and a fine dark red chlamys with plain silver pins and a hat to hide his face. He put on boots.
Theron came in as he got the left boot laced.
‘That was a little precipitate,’ Theron said.
‘Was it really?’ Satyrus asked. ‘He’s a fool. And he doesn’t seem to care whether he offends me or not.’
Theron nodded. ‘Well, you have a point. And I suppose it can’t hurt. After yesterday. As you said this morning, either you are mad, or very strong, and either way it should give his master some hesitation.’ Theron had been Satyrus’ athletic coach and tutor. He had special rights in terms of criticism. ‘Besides,’ he said, ‘now you have a free hour to look at your ships.’
Satyrus laughed. ‘Am I so transparent?’ he asked.