‘Surprisingly asleep,’ Kineas said. ‘They were so quiet I had to look at them twice to be sure all was well.’
Srayanka walked away with her mutton, heading for the wagon. To see for herself.
‘So we’re settled?’ Kineas said. ‘We send some Olbians home as insurance for the Sakje. The Keltoi and the mercenaries and any volunteers from the former hoplites may stay under Diodorus and Andronicus. The men who stay get the pick of the horses and are to do their best to trade for barbarian armour.’
Philokles raised an eyebrow. ‘What of Temerix?’
Kineas winced. ‘Easy man to forget when he’s not in combat. I assume he’ll come with us to the east.’
Diodorus nodded. He pursed his lips and then said, ‘All of those Sindi can ride like centaurs. Let’s get them all decent horses — we have the stock. Not much use for psiloi out on the plains.’
Kineas ate his own mutton and drank an infusion of herbs in water rather than wine, which was in short supply. Philokles chewed bread and Diodorus looked at the stars, until Srayanka returned. Nihmu sang a little song to herself and then fell asleep, her head in Philokles’ lap.
‘They are fine,’ Srayanka said, returning.
‘We’d like to mount the Sindi on Sakje remounts,’ Kineas said.
Srayanka nodded. ‘How many? Two per man?’ she asked.
‘At least,’ Diodorus answered. Like all the Greek officers, Diodorus had become addicted to the Sakje system of having three or four remounts for every rider. It made the army virtually tireless.
‘Two hundred horses. I have as many,’ she said. ‘And more. I will ask certain Sakje to give a horse — many have been served by the dirt people, and this should be a reward.’
Diodorus nodded. ‘Thank you, Srayanka. They deserve it.’ He sat back. ‘Since — Niceas died — Temerix has not received the consideration due him. I’m trying to fill the gap.’
‘I’m embarrassed to be so reminded,’ Kineas said.
And the twins woke with one voice, and all conversation was at an end.
25
‘ Craterus is at the Forks of the Polytimeros,’ Coenus reported.
The sun was rising on a new day, and Kineas was already hot and sticky. He wore only his tunic, pulled on hastily when he heard that there was a scout coming in. Coenus was covered in dust, his usual foppishness ruined, his face a comic mask where runnels of sweat had carved lines across the coating of grey-brown grit.
He had insisted on leading a patrol because he was, he felt, ‘out of practice’.
Kineas sent Nicanor for all the leaders. ‘You saw him?’
‘In person.’ Coenus gave a dusty grin. ‘He’s not somebody you soon forget! A thousand cavalry — perhaps some mounted infantry as well. I didn’t stay to scout the whole column. Mosva had just come in with another Sauromatae girl to tell us that Spitamenes was moving north — they found his camp — and the next thing I knew my outriders were shooting arrows at his outriders. He came up in person while I was still trying to guess their numbers.’
Kineas rubbed his beard. ‘He’ll block our way.’
Diodorus came running up with Philokles and Eumenes close behind. ‘He’ll be in among our wagons in a day. What the hell is he doing here?’
Coenus shook his head. ‘He’s fast. But I’ll wager a daric to an owl that he’s after Spitamenes — trying to cut him off from the sea of grass.’
Diodorus started buckling his cuirass. ‘You are ready to command armies, Coenus. The problem is that he must have taken your scouts for Spitamenes’.’
Kineas found that Nicanor was bringing him his armour. He stuck his arms up while Nicanor lowered the linen and scale cuirass over his head. As soon as the shoulder flaps were fastened to the breastplate, he started drawing lines in the dust. ‘If you were Craterus, in pursuit of Spitamenes-’ he said.
‘I’d have wine,’ Coenus said, hefting an empty amphora. Nicanor brought him a towel and a clay bottle of water. Nicanor enjoyed serving Coenus because Coenus had the kind of standards that Nicanor liked to live up to — unlike Kineas, who didn’t feel the need to dress to Athenian fashion in the midst of the sea of grass. He wiped the dust from his face and started to towel his hair. ‘If I were Craterus, I’d break off and go home. If I hit resistance on the Oxus, I would think that Spitamenes was ahead of me.’
‘Or I’d press the pursuit, hoping to hurt his rearguard,’ Diodorus said. ‘Let’s face it, that’s more like Craterus. He’s a terrier — once he gets his jaws on something, he never lets go. When have you ever known him not to press a pursuit until his horse fell?’
‘You all know this Macedonian?’ Philokles asked.
‘He’s older now,’ Kineas said, by way of an answer. ‘Alexander’s left fist, we used to call him.’
‘He doesn’t have Parmenion to hold his hand, either,’ Diodorus shot back.
‘So it could go either way. He could turn back, or he could be on us in, what, four hours?’ Kineas looked at Coenus.
Ataelus came in, his bow arm still bound in a sling. The wound had infected and bled pus constantly. Ataelus looked like a man with a fever and he walked unsteadily.
‘You’re not fit to ride, Ataelus. Get back to your pallet and your wife.’ Kineas saw Samahe behind her husband. ‘Take him away!’
‘Alexander is coming, and you for sending me to bed?’ Ataelus stumbled and caught himself on the tent’s central pole. ‘Need scouts. Need for seeing over hills. Prodromoi go!’ Ataelus struck his chest. ‘Samahe go, Ataelus go.’
Coenus, who had always got on well with the Scythian, shook his head. ‘We did do a certain amount of scouting before you came on the scene, brother.’
Ataelus grinned. ‘No little cut for keeping me from this. Alexander comes.’
Coenus, cleaner now, tossed his towel to Nicanor. ‘It’s not Alexander, Ataelus. It’s just Craterus. We can handle him without you.’
Diodorus was looking at Kineas’s marks in the dust. ‘Where’s Spitamenes?’ he asked.
‘Ares, let’s not make that mistake again,’ Kineas said.
Diodorus picked up a stick. He threw a glance at Ataelus, who stood by his shoulder to correct him if he went wrong.
‘I think I understand. Let’s say this anthill is Marakanda. Let’s say this line is the Polytimeros and this is the Oxus,’ Diodorus drew a line from the anthill that represented Marakanda, and then a second at right angles to represent the Oxus. ‘If Alexander has raised the siege at Marakanda — that’s my guess — then Craterus is pursuing Spitamenes west — right at us.’ Diodorus moved the stick along the line of the Polytimeros and stopped at the Oxus — the cross of the T. ‘If Spitamenes went straight across, he’d vanish into the sea of grass — south of us, but not by much. If the girls saw the camp right, the Persians are west and south of us.’ He drew another line. ‘If Craterus is at the forks of the Polytimeros,’ he went on, stick pointing at the place where the Polytimeros met the Oxus, ‘then we’re three points in an equilateral triangle: we’re at this end of the T, Spitamenes at the other end of the crossbar and Craterus down here on the base. And if Spitamenes chooses to try to link up with Queen Zarina,’ he continued his line, ‘he’ll go right through here, following the crossbar. With Craterus right behind him.’
‘And he can’t miss us,’ Coenus said. ‘And if Craterus mistook our Sakje for Spitamenes’ Sogdians, he’s already on his way. And then he’s between Spitamenes and us.’
Srayanka rubbed the bridge of her nose. ‘We have to fight.’
Lot came in, flanked by two of his knights. ‘Alexander is here?’ he asked.
‘He may be less than a day’s march away.’ Kineas recapitulated the crisis. ‘It is Alexander’s general Craterus. The king himself is at Marakanda.’ Kineas shrugged. ‘Or so we think.’
‘Our people must march north,’ Lot said. ‘Most of us are packed. The wagons of the Sakje will slow us.’
‘Without them, many will die this winter,’ Srayanka shot back.