‘I’ll sell you half, as I said,’ Satyrus put in. ‘Half, at seven drachma per mythemna, Athenian weights. The rest, to anyone I choose. You can have the cheap grain to keep bread prices low, and the merchants can make a profit off the rest.’
‘You call seven drachma cheap? Grain should cost less than three drachma!’ Nicanor was red, and his hand shot out. ‘Merchants like this Jew make a profit off of gentlemen!’
Panther laughed. ‘Nicanor is unaware, apparently, that we are a city full of merchants. Down, Nicanor. Heel, boy!’ He pushed himself into Nicanor’s face. ‘Grain was three drachma a mythemna when all of the Asian shore competed to sell us their grain. Well, Antigonus owns Asia now. If Satyrus didn’t bring us grain from the Euxine, we’d have none at all.’
‘Regardless, that is not what the council voted, young man. You may be a king up in the Euxine, but here on Rhodes you are just a foreigner.’ Nicanor smiled. ‘Four drachma is a fair price.’
Satyrus held out an arm, and one of Abraham’s slaves put his sword belt over his head while another slipped his chlamys over his shoulders. ‘Not to me. I’m sorry, Nicanor — I have people to whom I have a responsibility — small farmers, landowners, merchants. And I am not, as you have said, a xenos, a foreigner. If you seek to constrain me, a citizen, I suspect you’ll be lynched.’ Satyrus gave him a calculated grin. ‘I’ll tell you straight — if a man lays hands on me or my marines, blood will flow.’
Nicanor frowned. ‘This is your gratitude?’ He all but spat. ‘We gave you your kingdom, boy!’
‘Take my generous suggestion to the council and put it to them,’ Satyrus said gently.
‘We need your grain!’ Panther said. ‘However foolish Nicanor and the council are being, we need that grain.’
‘I am a dutiful son,’ Satyrus said. ‘I understand why Rhodes might want to have a supply of grain at a low price. I know that you helped me to my throne — help that resulted in a sea clearer of pirates and better grain prices. Help for which I paid in silver. But forget that. Take the council my counter-offer. Half — five thousand mythemnoi — at seven drachma. And even at that price, I would, of course, be mortified to find later that the same grain was being used to undercut other prices or to make private profit.’
Nicanor shook his head. ‘You mistake me entirely, Lord Satyrus.’ He drew himself up. ‘No king is going to dictate to the council.’
‘Very well. But please — take the boule my counter-offer. Half, at seven.’ Satyrus crossed his arms. ‘Or none at any price.’
Nicanor was angry, and unsure of himself — and aware that Satyrus was willing to call his bluff. ‘I will summon the speaker,’ he said, and swept from the room.
‘Pompous arse,’ Panther growled. He turned to Satyrus. ‘You understand that I cannot allow you to leave the port.’
Satyrus was chilled. ‘Panther, you cannot mean that.’
‘I do.’ Panther shook his head. ‘Sorry, sir. But your grain is the measure of our survival.’
‘Then let us hope the council sees sense,’ Satyrus said. ‘Because otherwise we’ll have a fight inside the harbour. And only Antigonus and the pirates will benefit.’ He cast a look at Leon. ‘I’m going to my ship.’ He offered his hand to Panther, and Panther took it.
‘I must put duty before friendship,’ Panther said.
‘Put good sense before both,’ Leon said.
‘I think your people are panicking,’ Satyrus said. ‘I think that if everyone takes a deep breath, all will be well.’
Panther nodded, took his cloak and all but ran from the room.
Leon raised a hand. ‘I’m with you. Let me send to have things brought to me.’ Leon spoke to a slave and nodded. ‘Nicanor is no more of a fool than an Athenian democrat — and better in a fight.’ He looked at Satyrus. ‘You handled that pretty well.’
Satyrus laughed. ‘I think I did. But will they agree?’
Leon shrugged. ‘You might have been a little less aggressive. Abraham here will tell you that the point is the deal, not who has the bigger cock. Right, Abraham?’
Abraham blushed. But then he raised an eyebrow. ‘I’d have been less antagonistic, yes. But you need to get to the harbour before someone — even Panther, and he’s a friend — decides to keep you from your ships. This could get ugly — uglier if the street mob becomes involved. ‘By the way, do I get the other half?’
Leon raised an eyebrow. ‘I thought I got the other half?’
Satyrus nodded. ‘You two can split half at seven drachma, and we’ll make up parcels for the other merchants at eight.’
‘Six and change — you accepted!’ Abraham protested.
Satyrus said, ‘Circumstances were a little different an hour ago.’ He shrugged. ‘Very well — you two at today’s market price. Everyone else at eight.’
Abraham seemed to relax. ‘Sorry. Life in Rhodes has been a little too exciting lately.’ He shook his head. ‘You stood in there — for me and for my price. I won’t forget.’
‘This from a man who used to make a hobby of being the first sword onto an enemy deck?’ Satyrus asked. ‘You are the brother of my heart, Abraham. I don’t have enough friends that I can afford to screw any of them on a deal.’ He embraced the man.
‘Risking my life is easier than risking my father’s money.’ Abraham rubbed his beard after they had embraced. ‘Six and change?’
‘Yes,’ Satyrus said.
‘Run for your ships, now,’ Abraham said. ‘If Nicanor relents, come back. We have quite a dinner for you.’
Leon shook his head. ‘Panther was about to tell us that Smyrna and Miletus are empty,’ he said. ‘Antigonus’ fleet is gone. Where has it gone, probably Cyprus?’
‘So there’s no risk of siege,’ Satyrus asked, ‘and the grain price will fall?’
Leon made a clucking noise with his tongue. ‘Rhodes is going to be besieged, my friend. This summer, next summer — the walls and the grain will not be wasted. But if Plistias — that’s Antigonus’ admiral, Plistias of Cos — is not here, then he’s off for Cyprus to get Menelaeus.’
‘Ptolemy’s half-brother?’ Satyrus asked. ‘Ptolemy trusted his useless half-brother with a fleet?’
‘That’s just what it is,’ Leon said. ‘Trust. Ptolemy can’t give one of his Macedonians the fleet — they might just hand it over to Antiochus. Or Demetrios. Golden Boy has spies everywhere, and he pays good money for a little betrayal. It’s one of the reasons we all have bodyguards.’
Satyrus nodded. ‘I thank the gods every day for the men my father and mother left me,’ he said.
‘Never trust a Macedonian,’ Leon said. ‘At any rate, if Plistias is at sea, heading for Cyprus, we have a free hand with Dekas. If we put to sea immediately, we can catch him off Chios — or hit him as he sails south to join Antigonus.’
Satyrus grinned. ‘I have twenty-two ships.’
Leon nodded. ‘I only have eight. But if Panther will bring us a dozen, we’ll have enough.’
Abraham shook his head. ‘I can tell you what Panther will say. He has to get cruisers to sea. To cover our grain ships. And to be frank, my friends — and I shouldn’t be telling you this — the boule is negotiating with. . with Antigonus One-Eye. Rhodes cannot spare a ship that might appear to be making war on One-Eye.’
Leon’s dark skin paled and then flushed. ‘Rhodes is selling Ptolemy out?’ he said. ‘That’s why Nicanor feels he can take such a high hand with Satyrus!’
Abraham raised an eyebrow. ‘Rhodes is not part of Lord Ptolemy’s kingdom,’ he said. ‘They offer no betrayal. In fact, they warned us, last winter, that this would have to be tried.’
Leon sat down suddenly on a couch. ‘What in Tartarus. .?’ he asked. ‘Titans below! Witness the confusion of an old man. Ptolemy agreed to this?’
‘Ptolemy had no choice,’ Abraham said. ‘He cannot compel Rhodes, any more than Antigonus can, short of a siege. The death of Demostrate was the last straw. Rhodes needs peace.’
Leon
put his head in his hands for a moment. Satyrus had seldom seen the man he called his uncle so defeated.
‘Leon?’ he asked. ‘What can we do?’
‘We can catch Dekas,’ Leon said, raising his head. ‘If we can defeat him, we put Rhodes back on the board, back where they were before Demostrate died.’ To the gods, he said, ‘They had a choice — to strike at the pirates themselves, and tell One-Eye’s ambassadors that piracy was none of their business.’
Abraham shrugged. ‘Two years ago, perhaps. But Antigonus waxes and Ptolemy wanes. Even I think that that Farm Boy is almost finished.’
Leon frowned. ‘Very well. The king and I have much to discuss.’
Abraham nodded. ‘I’m sorry.’
Leon got up and embraced Abraham. ‘As am I. You know that I love Rhodes second only to Alexandria.’
Leon turned to Satyrus. ‘I have landed you in this. If you choose to take your warships and sail away, I’ll understand.’
Satyrus shook his head. ‘No. I like a good risk. And the Rhodians are behaving. . irrationally. Antigonus wants their city. Not their alliance. Or so I hear it.’
Leon poured himself some wine. ‘Agreed. So we strike. Can you put straight to sea?’
‘All depends if my trierarchs let my rowers go ashore.’ Satyrus saw Helios in the doorway. ‘Message delivered?’ he asked.
‘Yes, lord,’ Helios said, and saluted. He nodded and vanished.
Leon got to his feet slowly. ‘Old age is a curse. If we put to sea today, we can camp on Telos tonight and be at his throat in the morning.’
‘I’ll follow you out of the harbour,’ Satyrus said, swinging his sword scabbard under his arm.
‘Like old times,’ Leon said.
‘Better, I hope,’ Satyrus said. The last time they’d fought a battle together, they’d lost. Badly.
Apollodorus had all the marines on their feet in the courtyard. Satyrus smiled at Charmides, trying to remember who it was he looked like.
‘Abraham?’ Satyrus called.
As if summoned by magic, Abraham appeared at his elbow. ‘I wish you could stay.’
‘I’ll come again.’ Satyrus said. ‘I have a half-arsed navarch in a big trireme — sure you wouldn’t like to come and fight a ship?’
Abraham hesitated for as long as a musician might play three notes. ‘No,’ he said at last. ‘My place is here.’
Satyrus was disappointed, but he tried not to show it. ‘Fair enough. Please give my regards to your sister.’
‘You must teach me how to talk to her.’ Abraham embraced him.
‘Talk to her as if she were a young man,’ Satyrus said. ‘And get her a tutor. A good one.’
‘Other Jews would be scandalised,’ Abraham said. But he laughed. ‘I should have thought of that myself.’ He looked around. ‘How big a ship?’
Satyrus tried to hide a smile. ‘If I gave you my own penteres, would you come?’
Abraham hesitated.
‘You know the offer is open,’ Satyrus said. Despite the rush of the last hour, and the deep disappointment over the grain, he felt a huge surge of affection for Abraham; his heart pounded as if he was in action. ‘Come with me!’
Abraham evaded the closest part of the embrace and stepped clumsily backwards. ‘No,’ he said. ‘No, my place is here.’
And then Satyrus was out of the gate, surrounded by his own marines and moving fast, almost at a trot.
What has happened to my Abraham? he thought, and then buried that with all the other disappointments — a habit that was getting too easy, the rapid compartmentalising of anger, social failure, anything that got in the way of the next task. He wondered if the Rhodians would use force, or do something foolish to prevent them from leaving. That was the immediate peril. Abraham would have to wait.
There were people in the streets — lots of lower-class men, a few women. But they offered only a few cheers, and did nothing to slow Satyrus’ passage, and he was in sight of the pier in the time it would take a man to run two stades. A fast man.
On the big wharf, he found that Abraham had sent supplies — a warehouse full of wine, oil and cheese. Diokles was standing under a pole crane, watching hampers of oil jars being swung aboard the Bosporan ships.
‘We’ll be ready for sea in an hour,’ he said. ‘Got your message. Helios ran his lungs out.’ Diokles grinned. ‘I’ve ordered the ships to go over to the headland and shoot practice bolts as soon as they are loaded.’
‘You’re a prince,’ Satyrus said. He was back aboard his ship, and the last few hours seemed like a dream. ‘But they’ll have to stay at their moorings unless we all leave together.’
‘We’ll need water,’ Neiron said as soon as he’d stowed his armour again.
‘On the beach tonight — some place Leon knows.’ Satyrus was lost in thought. ‘If we leave.’
‘We going to fight?’ Neiron asked.
‘Yes,’ Satyrus said. ‘Maybe right here in the harbour.’
‘Heavy odds?’ Neiron asked.
‘Two to one. Pirates.’ Satyrus answered. ‘Or six to one against the Rhodian navy.’
‘I won’t fight Rhodes, and neither will Diokles,’ Neiron said.
‘Not even if they plan to steal our grain?’ Satyrus asked.
Neiron sat heavily on the helmsman’s bench. ‘That bad?’
‘That bad. It’s as if all the spine’s gone out of these men,’ Satyrus said. He slammed his hand down on the rail. ‘Shit! I was so close to selling our grain and being done with this.’
Neiron stared at him.
‘What?’ Satyrus said. ‘I’m tired of fools and ambushes and greed!’ He shrugged at Neiron. ‘I’m tired of-’ he began, and clamped down on the words. He had been about to say that he was tired of being king, and being alone, with no peers and no friends, merely subordinates, followers and critics.
Neiron looked away, discomfited. ‘Someone coming,’ he said, sounding relieved. ‘Someone important.’
Satyrus looked past his trierarch and saw Nicanor coming down the wharf, a purple cloak flashing behind him, and in his train a dozen more cloaks each worth the price of a small ship. The boule.
‘Time to get off my high horse,’ Satyrus said. ‘No attendants. Helios — give me your plain cloak from under the bench. Hold mine. Look friendly.’ Satyrus put a plain dun-coloured military cloak over his finest chiton and leaped straight onto the wharf and strode towards the councillors, obviously alone and unarmed.
Panther was there, and Herion, and another couple of men that Satyrus could remember from former visits to Rhodes.
Before Nicanor could speak, Satyrus raised his right hand like an orator, and forced a smile. ‘Youth often causes hot words,’ he said, ‘and I beg you gentlemen to forgive my desire to be a good king to my people and a smart merchant on these docks. I will offer you one half of my grain for six drachma, not seven. Five thousand mythemnoi at six drachma will make it the cheapest grain in Rhodes. And perhaps will settle any ill feeling.’
Nicanor raised an eyebrow. ‘You are less truculent than I expected.’
Satyrus nodded. ‘I do not seek conflict here. Like you, I am not in open war with Antigonus — but I am at war with your pirates. And any fracture between us will only cause our enemies to celebrate.’
Nicanor nodded at the rest of the councillors as if to say, See, is it not as I have foretold? He crossed his arms. ‘As you seem willing to negotiate, perhaps you will meet our price. Which remains four drachma for the entirety of your cargo.’
Satyrus did not lose his smile. He felt like he did when he took on a new opponent at pankration. ‘At that price, I sail away. Or fight your navy in your harbour, and do you every damage I can do. This is not boyishness. It would be the result of your treating my offer with contempt — with hubris. My grain does not come from ten stades away across the straits. My grain comes from thousands of stades away, and requires a fleet to defend it, and at four drachma my farmers are losing money. Losing money after fou
r years of war.’ Satyrus tried to catch the eyes of the other men — tried to move them with his sincerity.
Nicanor tucked his thumbs in his girdle and smiled. ‘You won’t fight,’ he said.
Satyrus looked past him at the other merchants, the admirals of the fleet, the countryside aristocrats. ‘This man is risking your future and mine on an amount of money that is essential to my small kingdom and, quite frankly, nothing much to your city. I put it to you that he does so for his own purposes-’
Nicanor spat. ‘Put the fleet to sea and take these barbarians,’ he said to Panther.
Satyrus felt a whirl of rage — frustration and rage together — that this one man should baulk him, for no other reason apart from his own greed and power. The temptation to take the man and break his neck was so powerful that he shook, and Nicanor stepped back suddenly.
Panther shook his head. ‘Nicanor, I beg you,’ he began, and Leon appeared, running along the wharf like a much younger man.
‘Nicanor,’ Leon said.
Nicanor was too angry to respond. ‘I demand,’ he began.
‘Nicanor, Demetrios is at sea. He may be after you, or after Menelaeus and Ptolemy. But the war is on, Nicanor. And if you do this to Satyrus — by all the gods, I promise you that no independent merchant will ever sail here again. You’ve already lost Athens. Would you lose Alexandria and the Euxine, too? And the rest of you — I am only another rich metic, but by Poseidon’s mighty horses, has Zeus stolen your wits? Do you think that you can dictate your will like this? I am no boy, Nicanor — I have years on you — and I tell you that you are threatening the foundations of your city more thoroughly than Demetrios and his three hundred ships!’
The men of the boule shifted uncomfortably, and Nicanor’s face grew so red as to be almost purple. He spat. ‘You, too! You betray us, too, in our hour of need!’
‘What betrayal?’ Leon shook his head. ‘Nicanor, you act like Agamemnon on the beach, trying to seize Achilles’ bride. Consider the result, Agamemnon. And relent.’
Nicanor stood, breathing heavily.
Satyrus extended his hand to Nicanor. ‘Five drachma six obols, and half my grain. I cannot make a better offer. Please, sir — as the younger man, I make apologies for my intemperance. Let us not make this personal, but do what is best for our city.’
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