Killer of Men - Christian Cameron [191]
It sounds wonderful that way, doesn’t it? That’s the way a proper singer tells a battle, without mentioning that the ten dead men were dead, and their children were fatherless, their mothers widows, their lives over, perhaps for ever, because Miltiades chose to remain master of the Chersonese. Eh?
And another thing, though it shames me to tell it. I don’t always remember men’s names. The men who fell there on the beach? Making my reputation and saving Miltiades? I can’t remember them. The sad truth, honey, is that some time that summer I stopped learning their names. They died in raids, in little ship fights and of fevers. Men died every week. They came out from Athens, lower-class men with nothing to lose, and most of them brought their deaths with them. Some were too weak. Some never learned to handle their weapons.
We were pirates, thugater. I can coat it in a glaze of honey, set it in epic verse, but we were hard men who lived a hard life, and it wasn’t worth my time to learn the new men’s names until they’d survived for a while.
Don’t mind me. I philosophize.
At any rate, the next morning the Carians ambushed Daurises’ columns as he tried to push into the mountains west of the Temple of Zeus of the Army at Labraunda in Caria, and destroyed them, killing Daurises and quite a number of Persians – the first real victory of the whole war. The news went through the Ionians like a bolt from Zeus, and sacrifices appeared on Ares’ altars from Miletus to Crete.
I didn’t know it at the time, but Pharnakes, who had been my friend, and with whom I had twice crossed swords, died at Labraunda in the ambush.
In the aftermath of these two small victories, we heard that Darius had lost all patience with the revolt, and with Greeks in general. He ordered his satraps to prepare a major armament for the reduction of the Chersonese, and he bragged that he would see Athens destroyed.
That didn’t please the democrats in Athens, who were aware that Miltiades was responsible for Darius’s anger. But that’s not part of my story – just a comment.
As summer gave way to autumn, Miltiades received word from various sources about Darius’s preparations. He had ordered fifty ships to be levied from the Syrian towns, and the satrap of Phrygia was to aid Artaphernes in raising an army to destroy Caria and retake Aeolis.
We lay back on our couches and laughed, because that would all happen next summer. There was only six weeks left in the sailing season.
Miltiades toasted me in good Chian wine. ‘One stroke,’ he said, ‘and I am once again master in my own house. You are dear to me, Plataean.’
I frowned. ‘Next summer, Darius will come with a vast army.’
Miltiades would not be sober. ‘For all your heroism,’ he said, ‘you have a great deal to learn about fighting the Medes.’ He looked at Cimon.
Cimon laughed and spoke up. ‘Other provinces will revolt this winter,’ he said.
Miltiades nodded. ‘You think we hit Naucratis for pure profit?’ he asked me. I could see Paramanos grinning. I had thought we went there for pure profit.
‘Yes,’ I said.
Miltiades nodded. ‘Not to be spurned, profits. But when we took their ships, we showed the Greek merchants and the Aegyptian priests that their Persian overlords couldn’t defend them. And when it appears that we are winning, they will evict their garrisons as they did in my father’s time, and Darius will have to bend all his will to Aegypt. And then we will have lovely times!’ He laughed. The whole Greek world was speaking of our coup on the beach south of Kallipolis, and Miltiades’ name was on every man’s lips in Athens, and all was right in the world.
It was a good dream, but we had underestimated Darius, and we had forgotten those twenty ships that were on their way to reinforce Ba’ales.
21
That night, I asked Miltiades for permission to go home once the sailing season ended. Miltiades heard me out and nodded. He