Ptolemy nodded. ‘I may send him some ships,’ he said. ‘But I regret to say that I have summoned you to forbid your expedition into the Euxine, Leon.’
Leon nodded slowly. ‘I had your promise, lord.’ He glanced at Satyrus.
Satyrus held himself still. No one had told him anything directly, but he had felt the expedition must be close – Philokles had dropped hints.
He wasn’t sure whether he was angry or relieved.
Ptolemy put his chin in his hand and nodded. ‘Circumstances change. Eumeles and his kingdom are allies of Cassander. I can’t afford to have you making trouble there just now. I need to know that Antigonus and his army are going to Europe and not coming here. Then I’ll let you go – with my blessing, which will have a very tangible effect. You and your nephew ruling the northern grain trade would be of the utmost value to us – to Aegypt and to our allies in Rhodos. But not this year.’
Leon gave a faint shrug. ‘Very well, lord.’
‘I’m sorry, Leon, I need better than that. Your oath, and your nephew’s, that you will obey me in this.’ Ptolemy’s voice hardened for the first time, and suddenly he wasn’t a genial old duffer. He was absolute ruler of Aegypt, even if he didn’t call himself pharaoh yet. Yet.
Diodorus – one of Ptolemy’s most valued men – nodded, the closest to a sign of submission that an Athenian aristocrat ever made to anyone. He glanced at the guards. ‘Lord, you know us,’ he said.
Ptolemy nodded.
‘You know that we – Coenus, me, Leon, Philokles and a few others – follow the Pythagorean code.’ He spoke forcefully, if quietly. Satyrus leaned forward, because all his life he had heard from his tutor about Pythagoreans, and it had never occurred to him that his tutor and his mentors were all initiates.
Ptolemy gave a half-smile. ‘I know it.’
‘We do not lightly take oaths, lord. In fact, we avoid them, as binding man too close to the gods. But if you require our oath, we will keep it. For ever. Is that what you want?’ Satyrus had never heard Diodorus sound so passionate.
‘Yes,’ Ptolemy said. ‘Get on with it.’
Leon took a deep breath. ‘Very well, lord. I swear by Hermes, and by Poseidon, Lord of Horses, by Zeus, father of the gods, and all the gods, to obey you in this. My hand will not fall on Eumeles this year – though he betrayed my friendship and murdered Satyrus’s mother, though his hands are stained in innocent blood to the wrists, though the Furies rip at me every night until he is put in the earth-’
‘Enough!’ the king cried, rising from his seat. ‘Enough. I know that you have reason to hate him. I have reason to demand your oath. And you, boy?’
Satyrus stepped forward. ‘I have sworn to the gods to kill every man and woman who ordered the death of my mother,’ he said. ‘The laws of the gods protect Stratokles, and now you, my king, order me to preserve Eumeles. Can you order me to break my oath to the gods?’
Ptolemy nodded. ‘I carry the burden of every oath I ask my subjects to carry,’ he said. ‘Obey!’
Satyrus took a deep breath. ‘By Zeus the Saviour and Athena, grey-eyed goddess of wisdom, I swear to wait one year in my vengeance against Heron, who calls himself Eumeles,’ he said. ‘By Herakles my patron, I swear not to take the life of Stratokles for one year.’
Ptolemy raised an eyebrow at Leon. ‘One year? Is the boy attempting to bargain with his lord?’
Satyrus made himself meet Ptolemy’s heavy gaze. ‘Lord, yesterday I didn’t even know that there was to be such an expedition. I can wait a year. If the year passes, perhaps I can wait another year.’ Satyrus felt the grey-eyed goddess at his shoulder, guiding his words. ‘Perhaps we can renew the oath like a truce.’
‘Philokles, you have nurtured a rhetorician!’ the king said.
‘Satyrus has grown to manhood at this court,’ Philokles said. He sipped his wine. ‘And the essence of the teaching of Pythagoras has apparently slipped into his blood.’ The Spartan gave Satyrus a smile that made Satyrus feel as light as air.
‘There’s more,’ Leon said. ‘You wouldn’t have summoned us merely to prevent the expedition.’
‘You mistake me, Leon,’ Ptolemy said. He held out his cup for more wine. ‘Or perhaps you don’t. Yes, there is more. I am going to exile young Satyrus for a few months. To placate the Athenian.’
‘Good gods!’ Leon said. He shot to his feet, and his anger rolled off him in waves. ‘You get my oath and then exile my boy!’
Ptolemy gave a grim smile. ‘Got it in one. Send him to sea, Leon. Later, I will of course allow my erring young prince to return.’ He shrugged. ‘I’m sorry, Satyrus. But I need the Athenians right now, and I need Cassander sweet – and bearing the brunt of One-Eye’s attack.’ He shrugged. ‘It’s a hard thing, ruling. I suspect that Stratokles the Viper intends to kill your charges.’ Ptolemy shrugged, and grinned. ‘If I exile you, and you take your sister – well, he can hardly complain, and he’s unlikely to find a way to kill you, either. Everyone’s equally unhappy.’ Ptolemy looked around. ‘I don’t intend to let him kill these children, but neither, frankly, will I imperil an alliance that I need – that Aegypt needs – to preserve two teenagers, however wonderful.’
Coenus stood up. ‘Listen to me, Ptolemy. You call yourself lord of Aegypt – I remember you as a page, and as a battalion officer. Is that what you learned about loyalty and command? What is this, Hephaestion’s style? You know what they say about you in the army? That Antigonus will take us any time he wants, because he’s a real Macedonian. Understands duty and honour and loyalty to his own.’ The big man shrugged. ‘Half the men in the city saw what happened today at Cimon’s. You know yourself that the boy is guiltless. When you exile him, it’s another sign you won’t protect your own.’
‘Watch yourself, old man,’ Ptolemy said.
Diodorus stretched his legs in front of him. ‘I remember a campfire in Bactria,’ he said dreamily. ‘You owe us, O King. And we’re your friends.’
Ptolemy nodded. ‘Yes!’ he said. ‘Yes, I do think that you men are my friends. And so I believe that I can ask this of you – I call you in private and I ask for this exile, so that I can preserve appearances. And so you can preserve the boy’s life – I’m not a fool, Leon. I told you that I know that this Stratokles will try for the boy – and the girl, too. Because Cassander’s stupid ally needs them dead.’
Leon raised his face, and the scowl dropped from his dark features. ‘Oh – are you asking, lord?’
Ptolemy’s face underwent a remarkable set of changes – anger, puzzlement, amusement, laughter. ‘I’ve been playing at royalty too long,’ he said. ‘Yes, I’m asking. If you decline, I’ll find another answer.’
‘Ah!’ Leon said. ‘That’s another thing entirely. If you ask,’ he glanced at Satyrus, ‘as a favour, then we will of course do it for you.’
Ptolemy nodded. ‘As for the army,’ he said to Coenus, ‘I know that they are discontented. What can I do? Send them to fight in Nubia? Pay them better?’
‘Make them feel noble,’ Coenus said. ‘They want to be heroes, not bodyguards.’
Ptolemy sighed. ‘Do they even remember how fucking miserable life in Macedon was?’ he asked. ‘Or the campaigns in Bactria? Zeus Soter, that was Hades risen to fill the middle world. Tartarus incarnate.’
Leon rose to his feet. ‘Lord, it occurs to me that I can send a cargo to Rhodos as early as tomorrow. They are our allies, and they are virtually under siege – every mina of grain will count. It will do us no harm to see if Demetrios has laid siege to Rhodos – or Tyre. Or gone elsewhere – and what armament he has. I must go and make my preparations.’ He glanced at Coenus. ‘Is Xeno ready to ship out?’
Coenus smiled. ‘Now there’s at least one man happy in all this!’
Ptolemy rose and clasped hands all around. ‘I’m glad you all came to put me in my place,’ he growled. He turned to Coenus. ‘How bad are the Macedonians, Coenus?’