Tyrant: Force of Kings by Christian Cameron

Author:Christian Cameron [Cameron, Christian]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Tags: Historical Fiction
Publisher: Orion Publishing Group
Published: 2014-08-28T00:00:00+00:00

11

Aslave woke Satyrus when the sun was fully above the rim of the world. He rose with the feeling of impending doom, and said prayers in the household alcove with Apollodorus and two slaves – the only others up to greet the sun.

‘Garrison’s in the citadel,’ Apollodorus said tersely. ‘I left Draco in command.’

‘I told you to take command,’ Satyrus said.

‘You aren’t allowed out without a keeper,’ Apollodorus said. ‘Your sister’s orders.’

‘Where is she?’ Satyrus asked.

Apollodorus pointed. Out in the bay, one of the squadrons was just getting clear of the beach.

‘Diokles is to stay to keep you clear of Antigonid ships,’ Apollodorus said. ‘Melitta is taking the main fleet back to the Propontus.’

‘So she told me last night,’ Satyrus said. ‘I see Scopasis.’

‘He told her she was wrong and stayed to help you. He brought another forty Sakje – ten ships’ worth of archers.’ Apollodorus shook his head. ‘She made quite a scene. You slept through it.’

‘Poor Melitta,’ he said. Scopasis was a big man, and his eyes were blank. He had been an outlaw. And he looked it.

‘You had other things on your mind last night,’ Anaxagoras said, emerging from the courtyard. ‘Melitta said she’d try to talk sense into you.’

‘Hmm. If you agree with her, why didn’t you go with her?’ Satyrus asked.

Anaxagoras raised an eyebrow. ‘Did I say that I agreed? I simply said that I would abide by your decision. Look, here I am. You know that she took Miriam?’

Satyrus had intended to try and remonstrate with Miriam one more time – and there she was, sailing away. ‘I knew last night.’

‘She left you all the fighting trierarchs and all her marines. She’ll leave a squadron in the Propontus.’ He grinned. ‘Just for the record, I think she’s wrong. I think we have to do this.’

Now he was being ushered out the door by his staff, who were working efficiently and who were, he could tell, all too aware of his feelings. That alone made him angry – that and the feeling of being cosseted.

The butler stood in the doorway, wearing a plain linen chiton and holding a staff. He bowed deeply.

Satyrus nodded to him. ‘You like it here?’ he asked.

The man raised an eyebrow – a very expressive eyebrow, which suggested that no man, no matter how comfortable, could ‘like’ slavery.

‘If you will come and run my military household, I’ll free you on the spot. Today. I’ll leave your price for Demetrios.’ Satyrus thought that this might be the way to propitiate the gods. Or simply to do something worthy. This morning, death seemed very near.

The man bowed. ‘Lord, I am your man,’ he said.

Satyrus nodded to Charmides. ‘See to it. Install him as my butler and have him arrange for a tent and military equipage. A dozen slaves to do the work. I expect this to be a long campaign, friends. Get what you need here.’

Charmides nodded. ‘As you say, lord.’

Satyrus nodded at the young man. Charmides reminded him of someone – especially when he was grave and dignified like this.

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