Even while he stood, almost naked, on the tiled floor of the bathing room of the villa where the Rhodians had been held, officers came to him. First Nikephorus, reporting on the willingness of the citadel to surrender, and then a report from his sister via Coenus, and hard on his heels a delegation of Rhodian officers eager to see with their own eyes that their hostages were free.
About the time that the chiton came free of his skin, Satyrus received the surrender of the citadel and a scouting report from one of Stratokles’ hirelings, a Lesbian mercenary who had taken a party up the road to Magnesia the day before when Nikephorus landed his soldiers. The Lesbian’s mission had been to scout towards Antigonus to prevent surprise — coastal rumour placed One Eye close enough that Satyrus and his commanders wanted to be sure.
Satyrus stared at the man — covered in dust, and with circles under his eyes as if he, not Satyrus, had been fighting — and tried to remember his name. Lykeles? Polycrates? Named after some orator — Isokles?
‘Pericles,’ he said.
The Lesbian bowed — bowed again to Stratokles. ‘My lords,’ he said.
Stratokles was sitting on a stool, carefully washing Satyrus’s wound while Charmides poured wine over his washcloths and Miriam fetched honey. Stratokles looked up from his task.
‘Aren’t you supposed to be a hundred stades away and moving fast? I could swear you promised me that you and your men were the fastest riders in Asia.’ Stratokles raised an eyebrow.
‘Lords, we were sent to find Antigonus — what we found was the wreck of Lysimachos. He’s on the Magnesia road; he’s been defeated by Antigonus and his forces are in rout. He … begs you to receive him.’ Pericles shrugged. ‘His words, lord.’
‘How far behind is Antigonus?’ Satyrus asked.
‘His cavalry is right on Lysimachos,’ Pericles said. ‘I didn’t linger to see the truth of it, lord. I left my second with most of my men up the pass.’
Stratokles nodded. ‘You’ve done well,’ he said. ‘But now I need to know what you gave away.’
Pericles looked stricken. ‘Gave away?’
‘If Lysimachos is begging us for protection, you told him we were here, eh?’ Stratokles asked.
The man flushed. ‘I was picked up by a cavalry patrol,’ he said. He shrugged. ‘My own fault. All I said was that your fleet,’ he inclined his head to Satyrus, ‘was at Lesbos and might come to the coast of Asia.’
Stratokles nodded. ‘Well said. Very well, rest yourself.’ He pointed and Miriam ushered the man out.
‘Lysimachos?’ Satyrus asked. ‘Shouldn’t he be five hundred stades away?’
Stratokles shrugged. ‘He’s a damn good general, despite his behaviour to me. He saw what we saw — that Plistias’s fleet was the key. Hit the Asian cities from the landward side and draw the teeth of the Antigonids — I’ll wager that was his intention. But down here? He’s hopelessly over-committed.’
Satyrus turned, caught Anaxagoras’s eye. ‘I need you to run — run to Melitta. And bring her back. Bring Theron, get any other senior officer you can find. Charmides … Menedemos just passed through to see the hostages. My compliments, and would he please attend me within the hour. My best compliments, mind — we’re allies, not overlords.’ He turned to Miriam. ‘Despoina, some rough words are about to be exchanged.’
‘I’ve heard rough words,’ she said, and looked at him carefully, her eyes largely hidden under her brows.
‘Good, I would value your counsel. Right — Stratokles, if you have been in Lysimachos’s pay all along, now’s the time to tell me.’ Satyrus met the Athenian’s gaze, and their eyes locked.
Neither flinched.
Stratokles didn’t look away. ‘He tried to kill me.’
Satyrus nodded. ‘Perhaps. But just by chance, Melitta and I and all our ships and all our troops are here, on the coast of Asia, at just the right moment to save Lysimachos. You’ve served him for two years and you sold him Amastris. See a pattern?’
Stratokles shrugged. ‘I agree. I’ve served him well. But not by intention — by all the gods I swear it.’
‘Listen, Stratokles, in a moment my sister will arrive. Then it will be too late. If you made this happen, tell me. I won’t let anything happen to you.’ Satyrus noticed that he was standing with one arm raised, and this man he didn’t really trust was carefully wrapping a linen bandage around his torso. He felt very vulnerable.
‘Not guilty,’ Stratokles said quietly.
‘I’m having a hard time believing you,’ Satyrus said.
Miriam laughed. ‘How does it matter?’ she asked.
Satyrus looked at her and smiled. ‘Ahh,’ he said. ‘I knew you were more than a pretty face.’
Stratokles took a deep breath. ‘But-’
Miriam put a hand on his arm. ‘I happen to believe you, but in this case, I think your “true” allegiance is meaningless in solving the problem of Lysimachos — at least from Satyrus and Melitta’s point of view.’
‘You believe him?’ Satyrus asked.
‘If he served Lysimachos, he’d have made an excuse to ride with these scouts — and you’d have let him.’ Miriam crossed her arms, suddenly aware as soldiers began to enter that she was the only woman present, dressed in a single layer of linen, with no wrapping under it.
Satyrus examined Stratokles. ‘Well,’ he said. ‘So, give me your views.’
Stratokles nodded. ‘Let me ask — what do you want?’
Satyrus shrugged. ‘Miriam,’ he said. ‘My kingdom of the Bosporus, untrammelled by war.’
Stratokles nodded. ‘Then you should load your ships and sail away.’
Satyrus nodded.
‘Except …’ Stratokles smiled at his own sense of drama. ‘Except that if you play no part in the last act, you can’t expect to be included in the settlement — and they all covet your kingdom. Lysimachos, Antigonus, Cassander, Demetrios … all of them.’
Satyrus nodded. ‘I can defend my own,’ he said.
Stratokles shrugged. ‘Of course you can. But wouldn’t it be better if you didn’t have to? If you wait, war will come to you — your farmers and your vineyards. Or — you pick one to win. Now. And I think you’ve already made the choice by taking this city. You can save Lysimachos — save his army, save the allies. And name your price.’
Satyrus nodded. ‘I’ve thought this, too.’
‘Well, the time is now.’ Stratokles nodded. ‘If you decide to sail away, I’ll come with you. But to be honest’ — he gave a wry smile — ‘if you elect to save Lysimachos, please consider allowing me to be the bearer of the tidings. It would give me a great deal of pleasure to be the means of saving him.’
Satyrus exchanged a look with Miriam.
‘Stratokles is actually an honest man,’ Miriam said. ‘In a terribly bent way.’
Stratokles bowed to her. ‘I begin to understand your choice, Satyrus.’
Commotion in the gateway, and Melitta arrived with Scopasis at her side. She embraced her brother, and then Miriam. ‘So?’ she said. ‘You sent me a beautiful messenger, brother.’
Anaxagoras had stripped to run, and he stood there looking like a statue of Apollo.
‘Show off,’ Satyrus said.
Anaxagoras shrugged. ‘I really can’t help it,’ he said. ‘It’s hot, and you told me to run.’ He nodded at Satyrus. ‘What’s your excuse?’
Melitta laughed, passed a hand down her lover’s back, then stopped herself. ‘Tell me,’ she said to her brother.
Satyrus took her aside. ‘Lysimachos has lost a battle, perhaps just a skirmish, but his army is broken up and he’s coming this way over the pass from Magnesia. He asks us for rescue.’