By the Sword

by Christian Kachel

  Scanning the first floor, I noticed the regular silhouettes housing familiar worn and tired faces. There were also fresh visages full of life in hopes of finding their fortunes abroad. For most, Ilandra was a one-night stop along their travels east. Some would linger in Ilandra’s brothels, bars and gambling houses a little too long however, and find themselves without enough money to continue their journey. The lucky ones would sober up and find menial employment in order to one day continue their travels. The unlucky ones could not pay their gambling debts to establishments such as Pasicrates’ and never left Ilandra. As the years wore on and Ilandra saw more travellers passing through, Pasicrates had to create a system to dispose of these unlucky patrons by discreetly transporting bodies to the harbour.

  Arriving at our normal table, we spotted Theon and his gang drinking at their normal table across the room near Ganymedes’ lair. I pretended not to notice Theon nodding in our direction to his minions with a condescending smirk as we sat down.

  “So do we tell Ganymedes we are here?” Alexandros asked.

  “Just be yourself. They’ll get us when they want us; they know we’re here. The last thing we want to look like is three dogs sitting at Ganymedes’ feet waiting for him to throw a stick,” Patrochlus replied. He then ordered Alexandros to get us a round from the imp, which Alexandros obeyed. We always took Patrochlus’ lead in these matters, myself included, as I was feeling nervous about the whole situation.

  Patrochlus and I sat quietly waiting for Alexandros to return and casually took notice of our surroundings so as not to appear we were waiting to be summoned. The local drunks were either rambling to each other or drinking alone. Some new faces were enthusiastically arguing over the current state of the empire, with some supporting Lord Regent Perdiccas and the Argead line of Kings, while others favoured Antipater and Antigonus. The current theme of all similar discussions taking place around Ionia at this time was the unknown variable of Eumenes.

  Other young, unfamiliar faces were discussing their future as soldiers in the Greek armies and were passing through Ilandra on their way to the ancient city of Sardis to join mercenary outfits. I naturally listened to their deliberation for some time, making sure to remember routes to be taken, places to stay, and names and locations of mercenary recruiters in Sardis. Sardis was the westernmost point on the Persian Royal Road, with the Achaemenid ancestral capital of Susa being its easternmost extent. An older Royal Road connected that part of Elam with the Achaemenid’s second ancestral capital of Persepolis, and pushed further east to Pasargadae and beyond. Under the Persians, and now under the Greeks, Sardis was the hub for all movement of goods, travellers, and armies from the coastal Ionian cities eastward. Thracians and Macedonians usually travelled by road to Byzantium on their way to Sardis to join the mercenary ranks, while the majority of peninsular Greeks sailed to Ephesus, with a handful of wayward travellers passing through Ilandra and Halicarnassus on their way to the inland city. Even uncle Argos understood the Royal Road to be a marvel of human achievement, despite being constructed by Persians. The road ensured expedient communication and travel throughout the empire, with countless outposts for couriers and travellers. Argos was always quick to add that Alexander had of course improved the Royal Road since his conquest, which allowed him to reconcile his narrative of Greek superiority.

  Alexandros returned with a jug of wine and three cups. The three of us began drinking and subtly looking over to Theon’s table to determine when we would be summoned. Finally, Hipolytus approached and instructed Patrochlus and I to follow him. Alexandros shot an excited grin to Patrochlus, to which Patrochlus broke character and grinned back. I was not in a giddy mood, making my long-awaited walk through the sacred inner-sanctum of our youth. As we passed Theon’s table, I again noticed him murmur to his sycophants with a condescending grin in my direction. Hipolytus nodded to the colossus who walked back to the rear room and alerted the occupants to our presence. The colossus returned and motioned us to come forward. Patrochlus gave me a nod as we walked past the imp to remind me to maintain my composure.

  Hipolytus opened the door and we followed him into Ganymedes’ presence. He was sitting around a table with Pasicrates, two intimidating foreigners that were unknown to me, and two house women filling their cups and providing enthusiastic company. The room was about ten paces by ten paces, with a rectangular table in the middle and a small table in the corner holding several jugs of wine and two candles. A lamp was also on the small table, with unpleasant incense billowing out. The large table had a number of candles, several jugs of wine, and plates with bones on them that had been picked clean. There were not enough chairs for the three of us to sit, so we stood awkwardly in front of this panel of villains awaiting directions.

  Pasicrates spoke first and ordered Hipolytus out of the room in a demeaning manner, which caused me great satisfaction. He did not tell Patrochlus and I what to do however, so we continued standing awkwardly in front of the table, not making eye contact with any of the seated men. Pasicrates was the oldest of those assembled and had been a friend of Ganymedes and Theon’s father. He was sleight in stature, with a grizzled, wrinkled face and greying nappy hair that looked to have been recently slicked back with water. He was fairly bald on top and was missing a few teeth. The few he had left were crooked, browning, and brittle. His beard looked to have been shaved about one week ago and was comprised of black and grey stubble protruding like grimy shards out of his face.

  Ganymedes spoke next, looking directly at me. “You’re Andrikos?”

  “Yes,” I replied.

  “Son of the dead Iatrokles, nephew of Argos the wine merchant?” he inquired further.

  “Yes,” I answered, attempting to keep eye contact.

  “My father was fond of Iatrokles, he didn’t like your uncle,” Ganymedes stated, looking directly at me. I immediately dropped my gaze to the floor but could feel Patrochlus’ eyes burning a hole in my side, willing me to respond appropriately. It was apparent that Ganymedes was making a direct provocative statement to test my mettle, so I quickly recovered my eyes to his and replied that Argos doesn’t like me, my father, Patrochlus, Ganymedes, Theon, or Ganymedes’ father. This engendered a slight chuckle and nod, which apparently signalled I passed the first test. Patrochlus let out a small but audible exhale.

  “You,” Ganymedes continued, pointing to Patrochlus. “Why are you here?”

  Patrochlus cleared his throat, stood up straight, and replied, “Hipolytus told me you wanted to see both of us.”

  “Hipolytus is a fool and a coward. Are you a coward?”

  Again clearing his throat, Patrochlus replied, “N...No. Shall I leave?”

  “Do you know anything about the Ionian Road south of here towards Miletus?”

  “No,” replied Patrochlus weakly.

  “Then leave,” was Ganymedes’ final order.

  Patrochlus looked longingly at me as he exited the room to sit with Alexandros and the other outsiders. Ganymedes instructed me to sit in the last empty chair at the table and motioned for one of the women to bring me a cup of wine. I fidgeted in my seat for several seconds to attain a posture I felt best mimicked the rest of my table mates. As I laboured to look my new acquaintances in the eye and act as though I belonged in their presence, I quickly realized I was at a social level considerably above my lowly station.

  The individual to my right was the most intimidating man I had ever seen up close. He was a good three inches taller than me and twice as wide. He had two tree trunks jutting out from his tunic comprised of muscular definition and scars. These massive arms rested on the table, bent at the elbows, and came together where he was calmly passing a knife from one hand to the other. His skin was dark and weathered; his hair was long, full and black. He looked to be about seven years older than me and was clearly not from Ilandra, nor did it seem he was passing through to join the army. He had found his fortunes heading west as opposed to east, joining the criminal underworld in Ilandra to capita
lize on the influx of naïve travellers passing through from the Greek peninsula. He did not speak during my audience with Ganymedes and I found out later he was called Meric.

  His colleague, Druz, sat across the table from me and was mercifully a more manageable size. He was also of a darker colour, with long black hair and a sharply chiselled face resembling a snake which, for purposes of intimidation, more than compensated for his somewhat diminished stature. Several scars lined his eyebrow, cheek, and mouth, adding to his unsettling appearance. It was apparent Druz was from the same region as the giant to my right and was clearly the mouthpiece of their partnership, as he made several unpleasant comments directed towards me that certainly did not bolster my confidence during this time of unwanted elevated prominence.

  Sitting on either side of Druz were Pasicrates and an unsightly house girl trying her best to not look miserable at the prospect of spending a night with the criminal. Sitting at the head of the table was Ganymedes. Alexander is at the top of my personal Pantheon, but Ganymedes always made a good showing. He had short cropped hair that stood almost straight up, with a youthful yet serious face. He acted the way I desired people to perceive me; he spoke the way I aspired to speak. Growing up, I desperately wanted him to notice me and even now felt a strong urge to please him despite becoming less enamoured with his world as of late. The only thread of Theon’s being I ever coveted was Ganymedes’ relation to him. The thought of having a living blood relation so capable of looking out for me was the only strand of respect I allowed myself to give Theon. This longing of his approval was my primary motivation for sitting in his presence at this moment.

  After my cup was filled by the house woman, insults were levied by Druz, and I endured an insufferable lifetime of being stared directly at by men I considered my superiors, Ganymedes finally spoke. “So, do you know why you’re here?”

  “It appears you are interested in my knowledge of the Ionian Road, but I am unsure why. I would also caveat that my knowledge of it only extends to the immediate north and south of Ilandra and my dealings with the tradesmen who travel it regularly.”

  “Tell me of these dealings. What do you know of it?” Ganymedes ordered.

  I finished the cup of wine as I collected my thoughts. Ganymedes immediately motioned the house girl to refill it, and she complied rapidly. “Well I assume you are aware of my uncle’s industry and my involvement with it. As part of my responsibilities, I accompany Argos to the Ionian Road every few days to purchase wares at the ad-hoc market set up on the Ionian Road just outside of the Ilandran Gate. On certain occasions I have travelled with Argos north as far as Ephesus and south past Miletus.” I finished my cup of wine and was immediately given another.

  “Name the merchants you do regular business with,” instructed Ganymedes.

  “Um, on a regular basis, we primarily deal with Agelaus of Smyrna, Damastor of Sardis, Elpenor of Ephesus, and Euneas formerly of Miletus, now from points further south.” As I mentioned Euneas, I noticed Pasicrates and Ganymedes look at each other. I also noticed I was getting drunk after what had become a few hours of drinking.

  “Tell me about Euneas,” commanded Ganymedes.

  I felt very uneasy speaking about Euneas with my present company but I did not want to raise suspicion. “He peddles mostly wine and olive oil. He was from Miletus until Alexander razed the city. Now he inhabits parts further south along the Ionian Road and travels as far north as Ilandra to trade and sell with his established customers.” I finished another cup of wine to calm my nerves and it was quickly refilled again.

  “Have you ever known him to act as courier?”

  “On occasion he has told us that he is transporting items for a fee. These are usually from former residents of Miletus who were displaced and now are attempting to move to new cities.”

  “Does he have security?”

  “Regularly no, but when he is acting as courier he will hire two retired veterans-usually the same two individuals, as protection, utilizing a portion of his courier fee as payment.” This last question revealed their true intentions which, in my inebriated state, only became apparent to me as I was answering it. I thought Ganymedes perceived this realization in me, causing me to squirm a little while finishing my answer, and began considering how I would answer going forward. I did not favour Euneas but I also did not want to be the cause for his misfortune given his long relationship with my uncle.

  “Just the two guards? Is his wagon covered? Is there anyone ever inside the wagon as well when he is transporting valuable cargo? Describe his wagon to me,” Ganymedes further inquired.

  “Euneas’ wagon is not sturdy, but it is fully covered. You will know it by the worn red fabric he uses as curtains for the small windows located on either side. I’m unsure as to what security measures he takes within the wagon while acting as courier since I never saw a reason to ask.” I knew he never kept additional security in the wagon but I was now trying to be as vague as possible.

  “At what pace does he travel from the south to Ilandra? When does he arrive here? What is your approximation of his arrival passing through the Miletus ruins?”

  It now was apparent to me that Ganymedes was planning to ambush Euneas at Miletus, using the once great city’s ruins and desolation as cover. It was also strange that Ganymedes would choose to divulge such details to someone like me. “I believe he begins one hour before sunrise and arrives at the Ilandra market one hour before noon. If he is continuing north to Ephesus, he will spend the evening in Ilandra and depart the next morning at the same hour. Assuming this pace, he will pass through Miletus approximately two hours past sunrise on his way to Ilandra.”

  “That’s about all I need to hear from you about his particulars. I am curious as to your personal beliefs about the man. Do you favour him?”

  I took another large drink of wine to bide some time before answering. I was unsure how to proceed. “Honestly, he does not favour me and has shown me great disrespect on many occasions. I am not implying that someone like me garners much respect, but his contempt of me has not engendered any feelings of loyalty if that is your meaning.”

  “Do you believe yourself respected by the men in this room?” Ganymedes asked with some sarcasm.

  This inquiry did not sit well as it looked like he was about to twist my words. “I do not believe I have done anything to earn your respect, nor do I believe I’ve committed an infraction or displayed an incompetence which would provoke animosity,” was my very deliberate answer.

  “A good answer Andrikos. That is all. Oh, and it goes without saying that this conversation is to be kept secret.”

  With this last response it appeared Ganymedes had extracted all necessary information. He motioned me to exit and I immediately stood up as if at attention. It was a clumsy attempt however since much wine had necessitated me to use the table for assistance standing. Druz let out a contemptuous utterance and I exited the room as deliberately as possible, passing by the colossus and Theon’s table. As I did so, Theon again shot me a disdainful look and whispered something to a sycophant sitting at his table. Drink had emboldened my sense of self by now, however, and I returned his expressional dagger with one of my own. This was uncharacteristic of me and certainly got Theon’s attention. I didn’t linger for a response to this sleight and sat down at my table to find Nearchus sharing a jug of wine with Patrochlus and Alexandros. Alexandros could not contain his excitement to see me return. Patrochlus attempted to be uninterested at first and Nearchus appeared concerned as our eyes met.

  Patrochlus spoke for everyone, “Well, don’t keep us waiting.”

  “I can’t really get into the details of what was said past the time of Patrochlus’ exit. It’s nothing important, don’t worry about it.” I could see this response was a blow to Alexandros’ excited curiosity and a jab to Patrochlus’ ego for being asked to leave. Nearchus’ eyes caught mine again to inform me that he expected to be told the details of my encounter in the very near future. My eyes
replied that he would indeed, for I was going to need his advice.

  “You better tell us when you can,” were Patrochlus’ final words on the subject. “And now let us drink to the increasingly rare appearance of our most responsible of companions,” Patrochlus proclaimed, putting his arm around Nearchus. “Our band is not as intimidating without you, brother.” Nearchus looked genuinely happy to be out with us despite his broken heart and concern over my meeting. Seeing that I made it out alright and in good spirits, he relaxed and drank his fill.

  As the night wore on, the islands of revellers sitting around tables became an intermixed sea of drunks yelling, singing, and enjoying life despite whatever circumstance they had awaiting them in the morning. Our band was absorbed into this sea, still retaining its integrity, talking to a mix of familiar drunks and new travellers. Eventually the outer shell of our band brushed up against Theon’s group of miscreants. The crowd had thinned considerably by this time as the hour grew late. Patrochlus and Theon were the cogs that brought our two floating groups together and we found ourselves now enmeshed. Patrochlus and Alexandros engaged Theon’s sycophants while Nearchus and I talked discreetly about the meeting.