Killer of Men - Christian Cameron [185]
With my spear at his throat, the captain admitted that he served Diomedes of Ephesus.
I took the ship as well as the cargo, and all the slaves at the oars, too. But I put the deck crew ashore east of Samos. ‘Tell Diomedes that Arimnestos took his ship,’ I said. ‘Tell him that I’m waiting for him.’ I laughed to think how the little shit would react.
And then I took my new ship back to the Chersonese. On the way, I stood in my bow and wondered at what Troas had said, and how I had cried. How could I ever give this up to shovel pig shit? I was a lord of the waves, a killer of men. I laughed, and the gulls cried.
But over on the European coast of the Chersonese, a raven cawed, the raucous sound braying on and on.
Miltiades came down to the docks to meet us, and I laid his share of the take at his feet – every obol – and he shook his head.
‘Walk with me,’ he said.
We walked down the beach, and I remember the smell of the sea-wrack and the dead fish rotting in the white-hot summer sun.
He put an arm around my shoulder. ‘I thought you’d deserted,’ he said. ‘I apologize. Men will tell you that I said some things about you. But you are weeks overdue.’
‘I had a lot of copper in my bilges,’ I said. And it was true. ‘I went to a port I know in Crete to sell it.’
He wasn’t listening. ‘Right, right,’ he said. ‘I have a note for you. From Olorus.’ He handed me a small silver tube.
I opened it. It held a scrap of papyrus, and on it someone had written a verse of Sappho.
I smiled.
‘I have a big draft of recruits coming in,’ he said. ‘You planning to crew that Ephesian ship yourself?’
‘Planning to return him to his true owner,’ I said. ‘An old friend of mine. But I paid you your half.’
Miltiades shook his head. ‘I told your father once that you were more like an aristocrat than most men I knew,’ he said. ‘You love this man enough to give him a ship?’
I had an idea – a mad idea. I’d thought about it since I’d had Diomedes’ captain under the point of my sword. Or perhaps since Troas told me that I should go back to the plough and find a home.
I would need Miltiades’ good will, though. So I shrugged and told the truth – always disarming with manipulative men. And women. ‘I love Aristagoras’s wife,’ I said.
It was Miltiades’ turn to shrug. ‘I know,’ he said. ‘I’ve seen her. Even pregnant. And men tell me things. About you, too.’
‘It is her ship,’ I said.
Miltiades nodded. He turned to face me and he was a different man. He was dealing with me a new way – one warlord to another, maybe. Or one adulterer to another. ‘If you send her that ship,’ he said, ‘her husband will take it – and lose it.’
‘I thought that I might just kill her husband,’ I said. And go back to my farm in Boeotia? I wondered.
‘His people would follow you to Thule. To the Hyperboreans.’ Miltiades shook his head. ‘I hate the bastard, too, but if he goes down, my hand can’t be in it, and that goes double for my captains. I feared you might have some such foolishness in mind.’
I turned away.
‘Bide your time,’ Miltiades said. ‘You’re young, and she’s young. I assume she loves you, too? If she didn’t, Aristagoras would hardly hate you the way he does.’
‘Does he?’ I asked. ‘He’s pretty dickless.’
Miltiades chuckled. ‘It’s true – his parts must be fairly small. But he did try to have you murdered on Lesbos,’ the Athenian said. ‘You’ll recall that I saw to it.’ He grinned. ‘I’ve been a good friend to you.’
Ah, the delightful customs of the aristocracy.
‘There’s no rush,’ Miltiades said again. ‘Listen to me, boy.’
I was getting wiser in the ways of men – hard men. When Paramanos brought his daughters aboard, I knew he was mine – because he