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Jubal smiled at Melitta. ‘So when they timbers burn through, she go down — bang, crash. Whole tunnel collapse.’

Helios leaned close to Melitta. They’re like flies, Satyrus thought. Once again, he appreciated Abraham’s point of view.

Helios said, ‘If they drive the mine under our wall, they light off the timbers and when it collapses, the wall comes down. If we get it first, it wastes their work.’

Miriam shook her head. ‘This is a foolish way to make war,’ she said.

Later, she curled up against him on his bed. ‘It is nice to have my brother back,’ she said. ‘Someone to sleep with.’

Satyrus tried to wake up enough to listen to her. ‘You have friends,’ he said.

‘I have no friends,’ she said. ‘The Lady of the Assagetae has lovers and followers. I never thought I’d say this, brother, but playing at being a Greek girl tonight was the most relaxing thing I’ve done in a year.’

Satyrus thought back and frowned. ‘How’s your son?’ he asked.

‘Amazingly big. Growing like a weed. Talking.’ Melitta stretched. ‘Where’d Anaxagoras come from?’ she asked.

‘Out of a pirate,’ Satyrus said. ‘He’s in love with Miriam,’ Satyrus added, trying for just the right tone — not wanting to sound jealous, offended, or angry. Aiming for a certain man of the world quality.

Sisters have always been poor targets for false maturity. ‘He is, too. And you don’t like it. But he sees me. Heh, brother. I like that one. As pretty as a picture — long, gentle hands. But like Hektor of the nodding plume — I saw him in the trench tonight. Like a lion. I’ll take his thoughts from Miriam.’

Satyrus shook his head. ‘No — Melitta, you can’t just throw yourself at a man because-’

She laughed. ‘Go to sleep, brother.’

Day, and a hangover compounded by the two heavy blows he’d taken in the dark. Satyrus could barely raise his head off his rolled cloak, and there was blood in his hair and all down his side, and Melitta went to find Aspasia.

‘You really shouldn’t have been allowed to sleep last night,’ Aspasia said with asperity. ‘Sleeping after a heavy blow to the head — it’s not good.’

Satyrus shrugged.

She handed him a herbal concoction, which he drank — it was sweet and quite pleasant, especially when compared to some things she’d given him. She poured him another cup.

Melitta stripped off her Sakje clothes and began to bathe behind a screen. The screen hadn’t been there the night before. Satyrus lay back with his warm drink and considered that his whole tent had altered. It was larger-

‘You brought a felt tent!’ Satyrus said.

‘So observant, dear brother.’ Melitta laughed and emerged from the screen as a Greek girl — a Greek girl with two scarcely noticeable facial scars and a tangle of blue-black hair.

‘Warrior braids aren’t all that fashionable here in besieged Rhodes,’ Satyrus quipped. He already felt better.

The felt tent made him feel safe. It was remarkably like home, a vision of childhood. And Melitta was remarkably like his mother — he’d seldom seen her look so much like her.

‘Miriam’s going to dress my hair,’ Melitta said. ‘I’m out of the habit. Neiron’s waiting for you.’ She ducked out.

‘You need more pins!’ he shouted at her. The side of her chiton was open to the hip.

His head hurt.

Neiron leaned in the new tent. ‘If you’re awake enough to shout at your sister,’ he began.

Satyrus got to his feet, a little unsteady, and Helios came in with a water basin and a cup of warm juice.

‘Well done, last night,’ Satyrus said to Helios. ‘He and Jubal collapsed a mine.’

‘I’ve heard — it’s the talk of the army.’ Neiron smiled. ‘And not a man lost — that’s a raid.’

Satyrus didn’t like the judgement in Neiron’s tone. ‘That’s luck,’ he said. ‘Lots of wine.’

‘And judgement.’ Neiron nodded. ‘Good judgement. Now Demetrios has asked for a truce.’

Satyrus shot around so fast he tipped over the bowl of hot water Helios was using to bathe the blood from his hair. ‘What?’

Neiron nodded. ‘About ten minutes ago, a herald came. Two days’ truce to bury his dead.’ He paused. ‘Jubal says it is a ruse to change the torsion ropes on his engines and build more to replace the ones we’re destroying.’

Satyrus raised his hand. ‘Get me Jubal, and Menedemos, and any other officers you come across. I’ll get the blood out of my hair.’

Helios wiped his hands on a towel. ‘Yes, lord,’ he said, and went out.

‘Have a seat. Pomegranate juice?’ he asked. When Neiron had a cup, Satyrus knelt down and lowered the whole of the top of his head into the deep bowl. The warm water burned at his scalp. He began to probe the wound with his fingers — the dried blood was thick and flaked away gradually.

‘Quite a party,’ Neiron continued.

‘Have fun?’ Satyrus asked. It was hard to sound lordly when you are bending over far enough to have your head upside down in a basin.

‘Yes,’ Neiron said. ‘But this stunt last night,’ he began.

The bowl was red. Satyrus caught his hair, wrung it out, wincing at the pain, and sat up. He could see Abraham’s Jacob outside. ‘Hey!’ he called, and Jacob put his head in.

‘Can you get a boy to fetch me some more hot water?’ Satyrus asked, and Jacob vanished with the bowl. Turning back to Neiron, Satyrus shook water out of his hair.

‘There was no stunt, Neiron. We found an active mine and we launched a raid to destroy it. It had to be done. If their mine found our mine?’

‘Gods keep us!’ Neiron paused. ‘Were they close?’

‘Too blasted close.’ Satyrus winced. The wound felt as if fire had caught in his hair.

‘You managed to be caught, alone, by an enemy patrol. I’ve heard it all already. Lord — you must stop.’ He shook his head, stared at his pomegranate juice and frowned. ‘You must stop running off like a hero from Homer.’

Satyrus shrugged impatiently. ‘I was there.’

‘Call for others and leave, next time,’ he said.

‘There were no others,’ Satyrus shot back. ‘Damn it, old man, I was there. I didn’t make some drunk-arse decision to launch a trench raid.’

‘Huh,’ Neiron said, in obvious disagreement. ‘If you need an officer to make a circuit of the walls, wake me. Wake Apollodorus.’

‘Apollodorus was too drunk to move his feet.’ Satyrus shook his head. ‘What do you want, Neiron?’

‘I want you to act like a king and a commander, not like some young pup out to bloody his sword. Lead from the back. No one — no one — could question your prowess or your courage. Give it a rest. If the girl doesn’t want you, she won’t want you any more with your sword all bloody.’ Neiron glared, looking more like an outraged cat than was quite right.

‘The girl has nothing to do with it,’ Satyrus barked. And was mortified when Melitta came in, Miriam at her heels. Satyrus was naked, with his hair half washed out and a sheen of blood-red water over him.

Melitta laughed. ‘Miriam, my brother is naked,’ she called over her shoulder — far too late.

Satyrus had no towel and nowhere to go.

Jacob came in with another cauldron of water.

Neiron got to his feet. ‘I’m sorry, lord. We just seem to have the same disagreement again and again. And I feel like a nagging uncle in Menander.’ Quite casually, he tossed his chlamys to Satyrus.

Satyrus tried not to hurry as he cast the chlamys over his shoulder. The girls were paying no attention.

Satyrus smiled at Jacob. ‘Thanks,’ he said.

‘Think nothing of it, lord,’ he said.

Neiron stood. ‘I should-’

Helios came in with Jubal and Anaxagoras and Apollodorus, the last-named walking as if he, not Satyrus, had been hit repeatedly in the head. Menedemos looked about the same.

‘He only wants truce to build engines,’ Jubal said without preamble.