I just let it go.
Seven days, and we sighted the mouth of the Tagus.
I knew from my prisoner that the mines were in the mountains east of the river mouth — about a hundred stades inland, on the south side of the river. So I led my squadron out to sea, and we passed the mouth of the Tagus well to seaward, and then angled back east and landed on the soft sand south of the river mouth. Well south.
That night, I gathered my captains. Or rather, that’s what I thought I was doing. Instead, when Tertikles and his war-captains joined me and Vasileos, Doola and Alexandros at the fire, the Keltoi refused to discuss plans.
Tertikles was in full armour. He jerked a thumb at himself with vast self-importance. ‘I’ll do as I think best,’ he said. ‘And I intend to attack the settlement.’
I thought about it for several heartbeats. It seemed to me that I had two choices: I could kill him, or I could submit to him. Both of those alternatives bored me. Or I could let him go his own way.
‘So be it,’ I said. ‘Enjoy yourself.’
‘You will follow my lead,’ he said.
‘No,’ I said. ‘No, we’re quits here, Tertikles. You make your attack, I’ll make mine.’
He was puzzled, a gleam of gold and bronze in the firelight. ‘What do you plan?’ he asked.
I grinned, my hand on my sword hilt. I may have been wrong — I never found out — but I suspected that I could have put him down before he could take a breath. ‘None of your business,’ I said.
Tara frowned. ‘You must help my brother.’
I shook my head. ‘No. Sorry, Tara. I never intended to attack the settlement. I’m not even going to scout it. It’s defended — we’ll never get as lucky as we did at the last one.’
‘You are a coward,’ she said.
It is funny how much some things hurt, and other things don’t. Cowardice wasn’t something I’d ever really worried about. So I shrugged.
Which infuriated her. ‘Our marriage ends here, on this beach,’ she shouted.
‘Goodbye,’ I said.
She followed her brother across the sand.
Dawn found us at sea. I didn’t trust Tertikles not to burn the trireme out of spite.
But I turned south, not north. We ran two small coves down the coast and put in again before the Keltoi were even awake. We beached stern-first, and brought the ship well up the beach. Turned her turtle, in case it rained.
Then I gathered my whole crew, armed them and we marched inland.
Inland.
Why attack the settlement? The silver came from a hundred stades away. And that was where, in all likelihood, my friends were, if they were alive.
We marched across the plains south of the Tagus. It was hot here, and we raised dust as we marched, and there was no hiding the gleam of metal. By mid-morning, I was sure we could be seen for sixty stades.
There were farms, and plantations. We took water from wells, and I stole horses from the first really prosperous farm we passed, and more horses from the next. Only about twenty of us could ride and we spread out, to prevent surprise. I’ve never really loved horses, but they can be damned useful.
And Iberians have fine horses.
By late afternoon, my prisoner said we were halfway to the mines. We found a stand of trees, and my entire small army went into the trees and laid down, and in minutes most of my people were asleep. Even the stolen horses slept. Alexandros took four men and found a stream, and we filled canteens. I was too nervous — too aware — to sleep. So I helped carry water, and I climbed a tree and watched in all directions.
When the sun began to dip, I slid down my tree and ordered Doola to wake the men.
In the distance, there was smoke, towards the estuary of the Tagus.
I got my men together. We drank water, ate some dried pork and moved east, into the hills. There was a good road, and we found it quickly, and after that, I didn’t need my prisoner.
We found the mines at dark. My herdsmen and shepherds crept around in the dark for a few hours, and came back and reported.
I had hoped that when Tertikles attacked the settlements, the slave guards at the mine would react. What I should have known is that a silver mine is much more important than a bunch of slaves and their families. I can be foolish like that.
The guards were alert and awake. They didn’t actually catch any of my people, but we had the immense disappointment of hearing the alarm sounded — a man beating a copper plate and shouting, in Phoenician.
So much for surprise.
I slept for a little, and when I awoke I decided to have a look for myself. I climbed above the mine — actually a huge open pit — with Giannis and Alexios, another shepherd. Lights twinkled below us like orange stars.
Giannis had grown up during the summer. He lay on his stomach and pointed. ‘I think these are the slave quarters,’ he said. ‘See? The largest building. Next to it — the tower. Yes? You see? And then — I don’t know what this other building does.’
I did. I could smell it. They smelted in that shed. In the moonlight, I could make out pits and slag heaps among the shadows. I’d had a glimpse in the last light. It was the only time I can remember where my skills as a smith had tactical value.
I had a dozen archers, a dozen trained marines and a lot of oarsmen. I couldn’t afford a complicated plan; we lacked the skill or the trust. Neither did I have the time. On the other hand, the garrison couldn’t be more than fifteen or twenty men.
And when push came to shove, I didn’t really need to storm the tower. I wanted to — that’s where the silver would be. But what I really needed were the slaves. If Demetrios and Gaius and Daud were here, they’d be in that slave pen.
Sometimes, you make complex decisions on the slenderest of evidence. It can lead to foolishness. Or brilliance.
I put a hand on Giannis’s shoulder. ‘I’m going for the slave pens,’ I said. ‘If I’m not back in an hour, tell Doola to come and get me.’
Giannis argued, but not for long, and then I was ghosting along through the darkness.
I am an old campaigner. I knew how to move well in the dark, even in a foreign place on foreign soil. I fell once, with a clatter. In fact, I fell, rolled and came up one twitch short of falling over a forty-foot cliff that would either have killed me or left me a broken man. But I got up and moved on, no worse for near death — there’s a moral there — I stubbed my sandalled toes several times on the rock. But I moved slowly, took my time and in an hour I had gone down the slope and moved from slag heap to slag heap across the flat ground at the edge of the great black pit.
The slag was fascinating. I lay against one heap and smelled it, ran my hand over it. I even tasted a sample.
That slag heap told me more than my prisoner had told me. More than the slaves had told. It explained everything.
They didn’t mine silver here.
They mined gold.
I crept carefully across the last of the open ground towards the slave house. It was quite big — a sort of hall of hides, with palisade walls — bigger than the largest barn in Boeotia, and it smelled. It smelled of men.
The timbers in the palisade were huge — big, resinated pines from the hillsides.
The hide roof was well up over my head.
I went to the door, first. It was at the top of a low ramp, up a set of steps, and it took me precious time to find.
It was latched outside, with a heavy iron spike driven through a shackle attached to a huge sliding bar.
I crouched, listening to the men in the tower. There were at least two on duty. They knew that someone was moving.
‘It’s a fox,’ said one, with a deep voice.
‘It’s not a fox, you fool,’ said a high-pitched voice. ‘That was a man on the slag heap.’
‘Wake the captain, then,’ said the deep voice.
‘You wake him, idiot,’ said the higher voice.
And so on.
I sat on my heels in the shadow of the slave quarters and waited.
This had happened to me many times. I feel… it is impossible to explain… that I am waiting for a sign, a signal. There is no point in hurrying. I had no idea what I was waiting for, but I waited, and I prayed to Heracles, my ancestor, and to Poseidon, Lord of Horses, and the stars wheeled above me, mocking my pretensions to greatness. I thought of Briseis, and Euphoria, and Lydia. Of Phrynichus, and Aristides. For the first time in months, I thought of Miltiades.