King of the Bosphorus

'She might have killed us all!' Satyrus yelled.

'Eumeles could say the same of your mother!' Sappho shouted back. 'He killed her because he feared her!' She came and took his hands. 'Do you honestly fear Phiale?'

Satyrus stood with his hands on the back of his chair, clenched as if his ship was in a storm and he was clutching the rail to keep from being swept overboard. His eyes flicked from man to man to woman around the hearth, and his rage soared – and then sank away, like flames on damp wood. He loosed his grip on the chair. 'What would you have me do?' he asked.

Nearchus shrugged. 'Send her to Athens,' he said. 'And wash your hands of her.'

Sappho shook her head. 'Leave her here,' she said, 'and I will watch her. With Alcaea.' Sappho raised a manicured eyebrow. 'I will purchase Alcaea's interest, and put her back with her former mistress as our spy.'

'And Phiale will kill her, or avoid her,' Satyrus said.

'I doubt it,' Sappho said. 'And I think that you should let me try.'

Satyrus looked at Hama. 'Well?' he asked.

Hama shook his head. 'Lord, don't involve me in this. I obey. I would kill her for you, if you asked. And yet – I agree with the lady, too. About what a chief can become. I have seen a good chief become a bad chief, but I have never seen a bad lord become a good one.' He shrugged. 'For me, I wish we had caught the doctor.'

Satyrus flicked his eyes to his helmsman. 'And you, Neiron?'

Neiron shook his head. 'Land has problems that don't exist at sea. I prefer the sea. But I'll say this. When we go to sea – no enemy here will be a danger to us unless they have a faster ship and a better crew. We'll be gone with the tide. By the time this woman has power and money again,' the old seaman shrugged, 'we'll feed the fishes – or you'll be king.'

Satyrus nodded. 'Good advice.' He looked at his aunt. 'From all of you,' he said. And sighed. 'I do not want to be a monster.'

'Good,' Sappho said.

Satyrus took a deep breath. 'But – word of our sailing must not leave the city when we go. Hama, Sappho – can you keep Phiale from sending a letter? A tablet? A scroll? One slave, slipping out on a merchanter? And Sophokles-'

Neiron put a hand on his navarch's shoulder. 'They can't. But they can try – and they can, by the gods, make it harder.'

Satyrus shook his head. 'We need time. If Eumeles is warned…' He shook his head. 'Life is risk.' He managed a smile. 'I'm twenty, and I'm losing my nerve. Very well, Auntie. You have her.'

'Thank you.' She touched his cheek. 'Hama and I will do our best.' In the morning, Satyrus presented himself to Gabines, Ptolemy's steward, for his appointment. He expected to wait – in Aegypt, no one was ever granted his first request to meet the lord of the land.

To his own surprise, he found himself ushered immediately to the lord of Aegypt's presence. Ptolemy sat under the magnificent fresco of the gods and heroes, on a carved ivory stool, as if he was just the archon of the city and not its uncrowned king.

'Satyrus!' he said, rising from his stool to clasp Satyrus's hands. 'We feared the worst. And we still miss your uncle.'

Satyrus bowed his head. 'My lord, I am working to remedy my uncle's absence. And I am preparing a spring campaign to topple his captor.'

Ptolemy settled and Gabines motioned at the slaves for wine. 'See to it that your planning is better than the last time!' Ptolemy said.

Satyrus flushed. 'We had a spy in our midst,' he said.

Gabines, the lord of Aegypt's spymaster, leaned forward. 'Do tell, young man.'

Satyrus took his wine, tasted it appreciatively and nodded.

'A stool for the prince of the Euxine,' Gabines ordered.

Satyrus had to smile.

'And we hear that you won yourself several victories,' Ptolemy said. 'After your initial defeat. Eumeles is reported to be beside himself.'

Gabines raised a hand. 'My lord, I would like to hear of this spy,' he said.

Satyrus nodded and sat on the stool that was brought for him. 'You know Phiale, the hetaira?' he asked.

'Not as well as I would like,' answered the lord of Aegypt. He laughed loudly, showing all his teeth.

Satyrus frowned. 'She spied for Eumeles, with Sophokles, the Athenian physician.'

Gabines nodded. 'Sophokles is gone,' he said. 'I had him at a certain location, but now he has fled. My informant puts him on a ship to Sicily.'

Satyrus's head snapped around. 'You knew he was in the night market?' Satyrus asked.

'Yes!' Gabines said. 'And if your uncle had been here, he'd have had enough sense to ask me before he acted.'

Ptolemy nodded. 'You are not king, here, lad. You were precipitate.'

It is not easy to keep your temper when you are young, and everyone older than you seems to be in a conspiracy to put you in the wrong. Satyrus flushed, and he felt the heat on his cheeks. He covered the onset of anger by sipping more wine.

Gabines shook his head. 'Next time, you'll know better, lad. Can you prove the involvement of Phiale?'

Satyrus nodded. 'I think so, although Philokles would say that it depends on what you require as a standard of proof. Her slave attempted to suborn mine. We have this slave, and she has writings of her mistress – writings which Phiale says are forged.'

'Circumstances are against the woman,' Gabines said, scratching his beard. He glanced at his master. 'I don't recommend that you get to know her any better, my lord.' He looked at Satyrus. 'What do you propose to do to her, young man?'

Satyrus sat back and smiled. 'Nothing.'

The lord of Aegypt and his steward exchanged smiles. 'Really?' Gabines asked.

Satyrus nodded. 'My aunt his given her word that Phiale will cause me no more… discontent.' He savoured his wine. 'Can you tell me of Eumeles?'

Gabines was silent for a long moment. Satyrus noticed that he could hear the slave behind him, breathing. It was that quiet.

'Eumeles is incensed that you destroyed his squadron at Tomis. And he has had word of you from Byzantium, and from Rhodos. And from here.' Gabines raised his eyes. 'But he is far more afraid of your sister. We hear that he is hiring mercenaries already.'

'Where is my sister?' Satyrus asked.

'We don't know,' Ptolemy put in. 'Somewhere in the back-country. There's a song in Pantecapaeum, or so my agent there tells me – a song about her killing seven men in single combat.' Ptolemy shook his head. 'I remember her as such a nice quiet girl.'

Satyrus couldn't help but grin. 'That's Lita.' He nodded to Gabines. 'By spring she'll have an army. When the ground is hard, she'll have a go at Marthax – the king of the Assagatje. By high summer, if all goes well, she'll be ready to face Eumeles.'

'If Eumeles doesn't make an alliance with this Marthax,' Gabines said. He shrugged.

'And you, lad?' Ptolemy asked.

'I have asked Diodorus to meet me at Heraklea on the Euxine,' Satyrus said. 'I intend to raise a fleet and go over to the attack when the weather changes.'

'Just like that? Raise a fleet?' Ptolemy asked.

'I have an agreement with Demostrate, the pirate king.' Satyrus sipped his excellent wine. 'And with Rhodos.'

'Pirates and Rhodos don't mix, lad!' Ptolemy said.

'And I'm hoping to add Lysimachos.' Satyrus leaned forward. 'He has few ships, but I need his good will – and I can clear Eumeles off his part of the seaboard. And move the pirates off his lines of communication. He needs me.'

Gabines nodded. 'We need him as well. Without his little satrapy, Antigonus One-Eye can move freely between Asia and Europe – and Cassander is doomed.'

'Yet Cassander supports Eumeles,' Satyrus said.

Ptolemy shrugged. 'We're allies, not brothers. Eumeles is no friend of Aegypt's – as you well know.'