Tyrant: Destroyer of Cities by Christian Cameron Page A

walls and a strong army.’
    Nikephorus grinned. ‘Glad you gentlemen intend to continue our employment. That being the case, how about farms for the veterans? You have the land – the top of the eastern valleys has some good land, or so I’m assured, and much of it is still empty.’
    Satyrus looked at Coenus. Coenus shook his head. ‘The Macedonian farm boys will make farmers, but will the Tyrian guttersnipes? They won’t know how to hold a plough.’
    Nikephorus shook his head. ‘Then they can buy a factor or a couple of slaves to work the ground.’
    ‘I didn’t like that report of a raid in the Tanais high ground,’ Coenus said.
    Satyrus took a sip of wine. ‘Nor I.’
    Coenus nodded. ‘If I take a patrol – Tamais Hippeis and some of your men on ponies – we could take a look at the ground for settlement. I want to go back and see to the restoration of the Temple of Artemis, anyway – I’ve arranged for a priestess from Samos to come and train some of our girls, and I was rather hoping that you would fund it.’
    Satyrus was not in the position to refuse his principal councillor and the architect of his kingship the cost of restoring a small temple on the Tanais River. ‘Of course,’ he said.
    Coenus smiled. ‘I think I’m as anxious to get out of town as you are.’
    ‘You said you’d come to Pantecapaeaum with me,’ Satyrus pointed out.
    Coenus shook his head. ‘Lord, you are on your own. Take Theron. He likes cities.’
    Nike of Salamis swept into Tanais’ harbour, her oars perfectly controlled, her helmsman kissing the long pier by the mole with the practised efficiency of the Middle Sea’s fastest courier ship. Her navarch, Sarpax of Alexandria, was across the prow before the oarsmen had moved off their cushions. He moved quickly across the wharf, and Satyrus watched him with some alarm from his own window in the citadel.
    ‘That’s Sarpax,’ Satyrus said to Theron. ‘In a hurry,’ he added. Helios was pinning him into a new chiton – a huge piece of superfine wool meant to be worn under armour.
    Theron was munching his way through an apple. He stood in the window for several minutes. ‘Can’t be good news,’ he said. ‘No one hurries like that to tell you anything good.’
    Helios stepped back. ‘Done,’ he said.
    Satyrus shrugged his shoulders and motioned with his arms as if he was making overarm cuts with a sword. ‘Feels good. Wonderful cloth.’
    ‘Sarpax of Alexandria to see you, lord,’ Nearchus said from the doorway.
    ‘Lord – your uncle Leon sends his regards, and would you please get to sea immediately?’ Sarpax accepted a cup of wine, but his face was red with exertion and he carried with him an aura of urgency. ‘Demostrate has been dead almost three weeks. The word at Rhodes is that he was murdered by Dekas – Manes’ former catamite, as you’ll remember.’
    Theron rubbed his beard. ‘Will Dekas take command of the pirates?’
    ‘The word is that he has already done so, and that he’s taking them over to Antigonus – as a fleet.’ Sarpax took a deep breath. ‘I’m to get you to arm and put to sea, and to accompany you south. Leon will have his squadron at Rhodes.’
    Satyrus knew that the defection of the Euxine pirates would have a profound effect on the naval balance of power. They had been allies – unreliable, morally dangerous allies. Now they would be enemies, and they would prey on his shipping.
    ‘I guess this is why we keep a fleet,’ Satyrus said. ‘What did you see as you came through the straits?’
    Sarpax drank off his wine. ‘Twenty sail at Timaea. Byzantium was empty. At Rhodes, they say Dekas has defeated a force sent by Lysimachos, and the King of Thrace has already lost part of his spring grain fleet. The Tyrant of Heraklea is holding all his ships in port.’
    ‘Stratokles knew what was coming, then,’ Satyrus said. ‘Tell Leon that I was going to sea in five days as it was. With a little effort, I can sail tomorrow.