‘Go north, behind Srayanka, and then back into the scrub. Cover my left flank.’
Ataelus was pale, his shoulder and arm stiff with bandages, but his eyes gleamed. ‘Sure,’ he said. He turned his horse and waved his whip, and the prodromoi, all on fresh horses, trotted north.
Kineas pointed over his shoulder. ‘Our wagons are only an hour’s steady ride north,’ he said — a silly thing to say, as she would know as well as he. ‘We have to fight.’ He kissed her and rode back to the Olbians in the centre.
‘What the fuck is going on with the boiler-ovens?’ Eumenes asked, pointing at the Sauromatae and giving them the Greek name for fully armoured men.
‘Upazan made a stab at being king,’ Kineas said. ‘He killed Mosva and probably intended to kill Lot as well.’
‘He loved her,’ Eumenes said. He swallowed. ‘I was — quite fond..’ His attempt to remain laconic failed and he sobbed.
Kineas gave him a hug. ‘Not where the troops can see you, my boy,’ he said, hiding the younger man with his cloak. ‘Choke on it. There — are you ready?’
‘Yes,’ Eumenes said. He took a deep breath.
‘Don’t let Urvara see you sobbing for that girl,’ Diodorus said.
Kineas glared at him. ‘Diodorus!’ Kineas said. ‘I seem to remember
…’ he began, and Diodorus gave him a rueful smile.
‘I remember too,’ he said.
Together, they rode back over the crest of the ridge. A handful of Craterus’s Sogdians were crossing the Oxus in a spray of water well to the west. ‘Too far west to threaten us very soon,’ Kineas said.
Diodorus unslung a water skin. ‘Mmm,’ he said. ‘Muddy and warm. Faint smell of goat, too.’ He grinned appreciatively. ‘By now, Craterus has heard we have problems from that dickless arse-cunt Upazan, so he’s going to put pressure on the weakness and then come right across into our faces.’ He smiled. ‘Of course, by now he sees all the dust Lot is raising. He has no real idea of how many we are and he still doesn’t know where Spitamenes is.’ He pulled off his helmet and hung it on his sword hilt. ‘Even the Dog will take his time. Since we’re not Spitamenes, he probably doesn’t need to fight.’ Diodorus looked up and down. ‘But knowing Craterus, he hasn’t figured out that we’re not his prey. And he’s ignoring the fact that his Sogdians are already afraid of us.’
Kineas nodded. ‘And he hasn’t watered his horses,’ he said.
Diodorus scratched his chin. ‘Have to admit I thought you were mad to try it, but it surely does give us an edge now.’
Kineas sat still. Thalassa stood between his knees, back unmoving, head up as if it were a cool spring morning and she was eager for a run. He’d never had such a horse. He patted her neck affectionately. ‘Have the hyperetes sound “advance by squadrons”,’ he said.
‘We’re attacking?’ Diodorus asked.
‘We’re looking confident. The afternoon is bleeding away and we need nightfall.’ Kineas pointed with his Sakje whip. ‘Look — it’s the Farm Boy.’
They had all had an affectionate nickname for the man — a royal Macedonian bastard named Ptolemy. Unlike Craterus the Dog, who’d been hated and feared, the Farm Boy had many friends. ‘Commanding Companions.’
‘No, he’s with the Sogdians,’ Kineas said. ‘Poor bastard.’
Behind Kineas, Andronicus blew the trumpet call. The Olbian squadrons surged forward across the ridge. Their line was neat and the afternoon sun turned the bronze of their armour to fire.
‘Sound “halt”. Let’s see what they do.’ Kineas watched.
A minute later, and there were messengers flying among the Macedonians on the other side of the river. ‘They only have, what, eight hundred horse?’ Kineas asked.
Eumenes was looking up and down. ‘Twice that, surely!’
Diodorus laughed. ‘Youth is wasted on the young,’ he said. ‘Kineas is right. And half of them are Sogdians.’
Kineas looked up and down the riverbank. A stade from the river on both sides, the ground was like desert, with sun-scorched grass and gravel. But the valley itself was two stades wide and it was green — sometimes marshy, sometimes meadows of grass with stands of tamarisk and rose brush. On the far side, there were two distinct groups of Sogdian cavalry, and on Kineas’s far left, a pair of tight-knit squadrons of Macedonian professionals. The whole line moved, because the enemy horses were restless. They were moving so much that they were raising a new dust cloud, making it hard to see them.
‘I’m going to go for him,’ Kineas said, suddenly decisive. He felt better immediately, his guts settling. He saw it. ‘We’ve little to gain, sitting in the sun. His horses are tired and mine aren’t. If we get beaten, we retire into the sunset. He’s a thousand stades from his camp. Sound good to you?’
Diodorus responded by taking his helmet, which hung by the chinstrap from his sword hilt, and putting it on. He was smiling as he tied his chinstrap.
Kineas looked around for a messenger. His eyes fixed on Leon, who had blood on the white leather of his corslet and a heavy bandage under his wide-brimmed Boeotian helmet.
‘Leon, ride all the way to Ataelus. You listening, lad? You fit?’
The Numidian nodded fiercely.
‘All the way to Ataelus. Tell him to get across and harass the far left of the enemy line. Understand? Say it back.’
Leon pulled off his helmet to listen better. ‘All the way to Ataelus. Harass the enemy left flank.’
‘Go!’ said Kineas. He looked around for another messenger. He found Hama, the chieftain of the Keltoi. ‘Hama, go to Srayanka and tell her to move forward into bow range and start plucking at the Macedonian cavalry — those right there. See?’
Hama nodded.
‘Tell her to support Ataelus on her left. You understand?’
Hama nodded and gave the smile of a man who’d captained a few fights. ‘Tell your wife to harass the horsemen in front and help Ataelus turn their flank,’ he said.
‘You’ve got it. Go!’ said Kineas. He rode over the ridge and waved his arm at the Sauromatae until Lot noticed him. Then he waved towards the eastern bank. Lot waved back.
Kineas rode back to the top of his ridge, took one more look at the Macedonian positions and pulled his cheek plates down. ‘Ready?’ he called. ‘Slow and steady over the rough ground. Keep your line and look tough and the Sogdians will vanish. Be ready to wheel left by squadron. I’m going to get us up the bank and turn north into the flank of their real cavalry. Got it?’ He looked back over his shoulder and the Sauromatae were moving, Lot’s helmet gleaming as the Sauromatae started down the tail of the ridge on Kineas’s right. Water flashed under the hooves of the lead horses. On the far bank, the rightmost Sogdian group began to mill in confusion.
‘Sound “advance”,’ Kineas yelled.
The Olbian line moved forward at a walk, picked their way down the spring riverbank, slipping and sliding on the sand, and then re-formed neatly on the broad meadow in the river valley. Kineas took the point of the leftmost Olbian rhomboid, with Carlus and Diodorus behind him.
As soon as they entered the green valley, Kineas lost his lofty view of the battlefield. He gripped his first javelin and rolled his hips as Thalassa felt her way across the rough meadow, avoiding the clumps of scrub. The Olbians, old hands at rough riding, flowed around the scrub and re-formed automatically, without orders.
‘Ready?’ Kineas called. They had the green valley to themselves — the Sogdians weren’t coming down off the spring bank.
They came to the river itself and Thalassa splashed across. The spray from her hooves felt good. He gathered his reins. ‘Straight up the bank. Spread out. Go up that bank as fast as you can.’ He waved his arms. ‘Spread out! Double intervals!’
No trumpet call for that, but he was obeyed and the other two troops followed suit. A stand of tamarisk hid the Sauromatae. Too late to worry. ‘Trot!’
He put the knees to his horse and wound the throwing strap on his his first javelin.
Antigonus sounded the call and they started up the slope. Thalassa was up in two bounds, and arrows flew by him — one hit his helmet. He leaned forward, and she was up, hindquarters surging, and he pressed his heels into her sides, rose higher in his seat and roared ‘Charge!’