Theron blushed.
‘Because you are a man of virtue, I have to say that some of your insinuations are womanish and unbecoming.’ Philokles, when sober, was quite imposing.
Theron frowned. ‘Philokles, you too are a man of virtue. But you drink too much, and lose that authority which would be yours by right. The authority to tell me that I’m womanish, for instance.’
The two men were standing.
‘How much I drink is between me and the gods, Corinthian. Keep your views to yourself.’ Philokles’ hands bunched into fists.
‘Fine words from you, Spartan. But then Spartans were always better at dishing it out than at taking it.’ The Corinthian stepped up to Philokles.
Philokles moved forward, eye to eye with the athlete.
‘Stop it!’ Melitta said. ‘Stop it! Have you forgotten that there are people in this city who seek to kill us?’ She rose to her feet and looked around. ‘I’m going to have a bath,’ she said. ‘I recommend that you men do the same.’
She marched out of the courtyard like a queen.
Satyrus busied himself with the last spot of verdigris on his own small helmet and wished that he was as brave and regal as his sister.
Theron glanced at Philokles. ‘She told us, eh?’
Philokles nodded. ‘You’ve heard of Kineas?’
Theron nodded.
‘Now you’ve met him. That was him. In his daughter.’
Philokles poured a cup of rough wine from a skin that hung on the wall and spilled a libation on the ground.
‘Here’s to the shade of Kineas, and to his children. And to friendship with you, Theron.’ Philokles drank.
Theron took the horn cup. He looked at Satyrus. ‘Is it hard, having a hero and a demi-god as a father?’ He gave the boy a smile. ‘My father was a fisherman. Sometimes that is the easier path.’ He raised the cup to Philokles, poured another libation and took an orator’s stance. ‘To the shade of Kineas, who sits with heroes – Arimnestos and Dion and Timoleon, Ajax and Achilles and all the men who shed their blood at windy Ilion. And to your friendship, Spartan, which means a great deal to me, whatever I say in anger. And to the twins.’ He spilled wine at each pronouncement and drank in turn. Then he offered it to Satyrus.
Satyrus accepted it, wishing he could think of something noble to say. Finally he spilled a libation and said, ‘I wish I was more like my father. May he be with the immortals, feasting. May you two be friends.’ He took a sip, smiled self-consciously and handed it back.
The solemn moment was broken by the shouts of Melitta in the bath. She was throwing water at someone, and that someone shrieked and giggled.
They were all bathed for dinner. Kinon returned from his business just a few minutes before the couches were set.
‘Tuna!’ Melitta pronounced as she came in. She was beautifully dressed in an ionic chiton with silver deer as brooches – Sakje deer, made out on the sea of grass by a silversmith. She lay down on the same couch as her brother. ‘Kallista says we’re to have tuna, as it is our last night.’
Satyrus looked like a prince himself, in a wool chiton of white with red-orange flames rising from the hem and falling from the shoulder in a repeat pattern that baffled the eye, his garment pinned with gold at each shoulder.
‘You found it on your bed?’ he asked his sister.
‘No, Kallista brought it to me when I finished my bath.’ Melitta was unused to reclining, and she reached under her hip to smooth her dress.
Kinon grinned. ‘I wanted both of you to have something beautiful to wear. Dionysius has agreed to receive you tomorrow, in public. After that, you will be safe. Indeed, I would hesitate to leave with the caravan – you will be safer here.’
‘Best not spill any food on the clothes, then,’ Melitta said softly.
Philokles didn’t look happy. ‘Much as we enjoy your hospitality,’ he began, but Kinon interrupted him.
‘Leon, our master, has been all the way west to the Pillars of Herakles. His business there is secret – even his trip is itself a secret. But I have had news today that he is safely returned to Syracusa, and will visit Alexandria for the summer before coming here. He will be here in late autumn. I have sent letters to him. I think that you must wait here. In addition, I have started the process of arranging for Satyrus to speak to the assembly in Athens. I spoke to Theogenes. He sometimes represents Athenian interests here. He suggested that you live in his house as an Athenian citizen.’ Kinon took a sip of wine. ‘I do not trust him that far. He has Stratokles there.’
‘Who is this Stratokles?’ Theron asked.
‘A politician from Athens,’ Kinon said. ‘Just arrived two days back. On a trireme from Pantecapaeum,’ he said, and paused to let the import of that statement filter through.
‘He now claims to be the representative of Athens here in Heraklea. He claims vast wealth, family connections and political power.’ Kinon shrugged. ‘I’m not sure – but he does appear the representative of Athens. He’s busy buying every cargo of grain we have to sell, and that gains him friends. I’ve done business with him myself. He is an extreme democrat – the sort of man who wants to give every citizen equal power. He and Leon are sometimes rivals. And he has the name of a killer. Where he goes, enemies of Athens die.’
‘We’ll avoid him then,’ Philokles said with a smile.
‘Oh no,’ Kinon said. ‘I don’t trust him, but he has the ear of the tyrant – Demetrios of Phaleron, the tyrant of Athens, that is. And Demetrios was a friend of Phocion’s, and of Kineas, your father. We need him. He can get you a passage to Athens and safety.’
‘Except that he arrived here on a trireme from Pantecapaeum,’ Satyrus put in, and Philokles nodded. ‘Ares, what a rat’s nest. I think we should stay away from this Stratokles. See what we can learn about him. In the meantime, what of Macedon, Kinon?’ Philokles asked. ‘Tell me where you are with respect to Polyperchon?’
Kinon held out his cup for more wine. The heavy scent of tuna in syphillium wafted in from the kitchens. Bowls of white cabbage in honey vinegar were put on the side tables that were positioned next to every diner. ‘Ahh. The crux of the matter.’ Kinon drank some wine. ‘It is not Polyperchon, with whom we had good relations. I think you are behind on your news, my friend. Polyperchon is deposed as regent of Macedon, and Antipater’s son Cassander has the reins in his hand – but behind him is that madwoman Olympias, Alexander’s insane mother.’
‘That is news,’ Philokles said. ‘You said something of it just before we went to bed. But what of Heraklea? What side is she on?’
Kinon shook his head. ‘No one is on our side. Perdikkas – remember him? The first commander when Alexander died? – assigned us to the satrapy of Phrygia and refused to accept our status as a free city despite all our years. And he received all our discontents and exiles, and threatened, through his lieutenant, Eumenes the Cardian, to lay siege to the city. Then he died in Aegypt – murdered. Now Antigonus has his army and he faces off against the Cardian. Confused yet?’
‘But…’ Philokles said, ‘you and Leon sell weapons to the Cardian!’
‘No,’ Kinon said. He looked over his shoulder, where Kallista was motioning for the slaves to bring in the tuna. She was more beautiful than ever, in a cross-gartered chiton of dark, crisp blue. ‘No,’ he said, clearly having lost the thread of what he was saying. He looked away. ‘No,’ he said for the third time. ‘We sell weapons to your Diodorus, who is a great captain and a good customer. He serves Eumenes the Cardian – for money, and with the permission and even the support of Ptolemy of Aegypt. We would prefer for Antigonus to defeat the Cardian. But we’d really prefer it if they went on fighting each other in Phrygia and left us alone.’
Satyrus felt as if his head was spinning. ‘I don’t understand,’ he said.
Kinon tested a finger bowl of tuna for his guests and nodded vigorously. ‘Superb. Tell the cook she’s a genius.’ He looked back at Satyrus. ‘No one can understand all of it, young prince. But Heron – at Pantecapaeum – is part of this game. The big players want all the small players lined up or out of the game. Your city of Tanais threatened the kingdom of the Bosporus, and your mother was the obvious queen of all the Assagatje. That makes you children the heirs of two small empires – in two bodies, you unite the whole north of the Euxine. That means gold, grain, Sakje warriors and Greeks.’ He watched for a moment as his slaves carried the tuna around the garden, showing off its size and quality, before carving steaks from it and serving them on trays.