by Max Overton
"No Greek would do such a thing!" Alcimenes blustered, his face becoming redder. "You are making this up."
"No." Tomyra shook her head. "Would that I was. The chief of the Serratae, Dimurthes, invaded our lands though we were at peace. He killed my father, killed my maidservants and carried me off for his pleasure." She glanced at Nikometros, who stood against the wall, a wooden expression on his face as he stared off into the distance. "He raped me, knowing I was a priestess."
"And all this was witnessed?" Alcimenes asked.
"Ask any who are here today. Every Massegetae here knows the truth of Dimurthes' treachery and the killing of our women and children."
"And the rape?"
Tomyra shook her head. "Only Dimurthes. And he is dead by his own hand."
"So we only have your word for this charge?"
Tomyra sat silently, head bowed.
The fountain splashed and gurgled in the open courtyard, filling the silence. Armour creaked as the guards shifted, eyes and ears avid for the unfolding story.
"My lady?" Alcimenes interrupted. "You have no way of proving the charge of rape, do you?"
"I bear his child."
"Eh?" Alcimenes' eyebrows lifted. "What did you say?"
Tomyra raised her head and defiantly stared into the commander's eyes. "Dimurthes raped me. As a result I carry his child." She blinked, and turned toward Nikometros.
He stared back at her, his face pale and rigid with shock.
"I am sorry, Niko," Tomyra whispered. "I wanted to tell you before but...."
Alcimenes gaped then chuckled as a grin spread across his face. "You didn't know, soldier?" He shook his head and clapped his hands together. "Pleasured her this last year by all accounts then she ups and has another man's baby."
"My lord Alcimenes," Tomyra pleaded. "I would ask you to be civil. This isn't a situation for mirth."
Alcimenes dismissively waved a hand. "Your pardon, lady. But the expression on this mans' face..." He leaned forward. "Why didn't you simply get rid of it? I know you women can do such things."
Tomyra paused. "I considered it, but the Goddess forbade me. I don't know why."
Alcimenes leaned back in his chair and picked up his wine cup. He slowly turned it, examining the rough outlines of men and beasts carved into the wooden rim. "So, what do I do with all of you?" he mused. He sipped the wine then put the cup down before rising.
"My first thought is to just execute the men." Alcimenes nodded at Nikometros and Timon. "It's a tidy solution. However..." he went on, "...if the Serratae are fomenting war then the policy makers in Babylon need to hear about it firsthand." The commander paced, ignoring his audience. "The first charge can probably be dismissed," he muttered, "depending on the report of this Persian auxiliary, Mardes. The second, aiding the enemy, needs further investigation. The third and most serious, that of waging war against our allies, hinges on the testimony of the priestess."
Alcimenes halted and looked at Nikometros and Tomyra, then Timon and Bithyia. He turned toward the guard. "Dymnos. You will escort the prisoners and their Massegetae companions to Ekbatana. You will carry dispatches addressed to the lord Hephaestion as commander of the Companion Cavalry. Let him decide on their fate."
"Yes, sir!" Dymnos snapped to attention and saluted. He turned and hesitated before turning back to face his commander again. "Er, sir?" he queried.
"Yes, Dymnos, what is it?"
"There are twenty er...prisoners, sir. Or rather, nineteen after the death in Abyek."
"So?"
"If I am to guard them sufficiently, sir, it'll deplete our forces here in Kharmsar. It wouldn't be wise..." Dymnos' voice trailed off uncertainly.
Alcimenes grunted, the corners of his mouth turning down. Then he looked at Nikometros, his eyes measuring the man. "Nikometros, son of Leonnatos, do you count yourself a gentleman?"
Nikometros inclined his head.
"If I send you to Ekbatana with no more than a nominal escort, will you undertake, on your honour, to present yourself to the commander there?"
Nikometros considered for a moment then, "I will, on my honour, sir."
Alcimenes nodded and turned back to Dymnos. "Take no more than a squad. You pick them. I'll prepare the dispatches tonight and you'll leave at dawn. If the Persian soldier or his report turns up I'll send it after you. I'll also send a rider ahead of you to alert the army of your coming."
Dymnos saluted then shouted commands to the guards. The armed soldiers, wary of the glowering Timon, ushered their charges from the building and into the barrack rooms. They began to prepare for the long journey south to Ekbatana, to the summer palace of the Persian kings and the court of the emperor Alexander of Macedon.
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Chapter Five
The King's Road lay broad and dusty, running straight and true to the south. For many days it wound between mountains, over high passes, along narrow defiles and through gorges bursting with freshly melted water. Now the hills were softer, more rounded, flattening out into broad and fertile plains. The dusty air, once acrid and sour from the thin mountain soil, became softer, redolent with the odours of living things. Though still early spring, the noonday sun beat down from a cloudless sky, rippling the air and obscuring the now distant horizon. Spilling out into the plains, the road gathered itself for the final push south through the civilised lands of Persia to the hills that bore the great city of Ekbatana.
Tomyra rode her grey mare near the front of the company, seeking to avoid the clouds of pale dust thrown up by the horses' hooves. She squinted up at the sun and sighed, pulling the stopper from her flask. She sipped tepid water, flavoured with just enough wine to counteract any possible flux in the plains water. Turning to the rider alongside her, she grimaced and desultorily waved her free hand at the monotonous landscape.
"I thought you said Persia was a beautiful land, Niko. These fields and farms are colourless and boring."
Nikometros grunted. "Boring maybe, but productive. Besides, we'll be entering hill country again soon. It will be cooler and I can promise you glorious sights."
They rode in silence for a while. Each village and town they passed brought an increase in traffic. The column of horses picked its way through herds of animals moving to and from pastures, caravans of traders bringing commodities from the farthest reaches of the empire, and gaggles of common people caught up in the excitement of the king's presence.
Tomyra sipped from her flask. "Niko," she said in a small voice. "I couldn't prevent it."
Nikometros did not answer. He twitched the reins of his stallion, Diomede, guiding him around a particularly large pothole.
"Would you rather I had killed myself, Niko? I considered it."
Nikometros jerked around. "Gods, no!" He smoothed back unruly blond hair and sighed. "I'm sorry Tomyra. I'm finding it difficult to...to accept..."
"To accept that your woman bears another man's child?" Tomyra bluntly asked. "I'm not a piece of property Niko, neither yours nor any man's. I was raped, taken against my will. The fault was not mine. Why do you blame me?"
"I don't, Tomyra," exclaimed Nikometros. "Before the gods, I..." he fell silent when a group of merchants passed close by, heads turning in curiosity. "In my homeland I would have the man's life for what he did. He dishonoured me...and you, and his blood would have cleansed us of the shame."
Tomyra stared at the man riding beside her. "I feel no shame," she snapped. "If you think I enjoyed the experience, you're a fool. Dimurthes died by his own hand. He felt the shame, not I."
"Forgive me, Tomyra, that was not well put." Nikometros slapped his thigh with frustration. "I wouldn't willingly hurt you but..."
"No," sighed Tomyra. "But you're still a Greek barbarian for all your experience of my people. What any Massegetae would accept as meaningless has taken over your mind. Get past the injury, Niko, whether real or imagined. My love for you is unchanged."
"You shame me, my love," Niko
metros whispered.
Tomyra uttered a sharp cry of frustration. "Forget shame! I don't feel it, nor should you. Just live your life as the Goddess sends it. Love me as you once did and all will be well between us."
Nikometros bit his lip, his sunburned face darkening. "And...and the child?" he enquired, nodding his head toward her belly.
"I bear it but I shall not mother it," she quietly responded. "The Goddess requires me to have it, for some purpose of Her own, but I shall not rear it. I'll give it away." She pulled back on the reins, bringing her mare to a halt before turning to face him.
"If you can put all this behind us and love me as before then come and see me tonight. For now, I'll ride with Bithyia. I have need of the company of women." She pulled her mare around and trotted back to where the warrior woman rode.
Nikometros rode on at the head of the column, his face burning and his mind in turmoil. Presently, Timon, dislodged from his place beside Bithyia, came alongside his friend.
"What in Hades did you say to her, Niko?" Timon asked with a puzzled look. "I've seldom seen her in such a mood."
Nikometros shrugged. "Nothing special," he muttered.
"Ah!" Timon nodded with understanding.
The two men continued in silence, threading their horses through the gaggle of humanity that crowded the Royal Road near the towns. They passed by a small hamlet on the left, bustling with life. It reeked of noise and the odours of a farm community. The land gently rose before them, presaging the hill country that surrounded their goal.
A small family group of farmers approached, the man pulling a cart laden with vegetables. A woman pulled an unwilling goat on a short tether, while several children ran and played around them.
Timon jerked his head at the children as they passed. "See that boy?"
Nikometros grunted in reply and gave the farmers a cursory glance.
"Strange isn't it?" Timon glanced at his friend. "The others are so dark haired and swarthy, yet he's fair haired."
"Not so strange. An army went through here."
The blond child fell and set up a howl, while stubbornly sitting in the middle of the road. Passing the care of the goat to an older boy, the woman hurried over. The man stopped and turned, exchanging a few words. The young boy ceased crying and limped over to the cart. Once there, he stood smiling as the man gently picked him up and deposited him among the produce.
"The man, who is plainly not his father, appears to love him, doesn't he?"
"All right," Nikometros growled. "I get the point."
Timon grinned. "What point is that, Niko?"
Nikometros scowled and kicked his heels into Diomede's sides. They thundered away, Niko's back stiff with anger.
With a laugh, Timon urged his horse forward, matching the other until he slowed once more to a walk beside them.
After a short silence, Nikometros turned and gave his friend a weak smile. "And how is Bithyia?" he asked.
"Fretting. She hates not being in control of the situation. I had to dissuade her and Tirses both from overpowering our escort and setting out on their own."
"Not a good idea. I gave my word we wouldn't escape. Our lives would be forfeit on sight if we tried anything like that."
"I know. But really, how do you rate our chances when we get to Ekbatana?"
"Hephaestion is a fair man by all accounts," Nikometros carefully replied.
Timon snorted. "And what are our chances of getting to see him? Far more likely we'll end up with some self-important mid-level official like that bastard Alcimenes." He fingered the nearly healed scar on his lip.
Nikometros smiled. "I think you're overlooking our novelty value. Do you think anyone at Ekbatana has seen Scythian horsemen up close? That alone should get us noticed."
"Aye, you could be right." Timon yawned and eyed the afternoon sun. "Getting on," he remarked. "Maybe we should stop at the next town." He turned and looked back down the road at the column of Scythian horsemen and Macedonian cavalry. "I'll go and suggest it to Dymnos."
"I will," Nikometros said while wheeling his stallion around. "I need to talk to him anyway." He trotted back down the road. As he passed the two women he smiled and nodded but did not stop.
Dymnos, dressed in full armour, sat astride a grey stallion that walked sedately beside the small Scythian pony of Tirses, the leader of the Scythians. He looked up as Nikometros approached, breaking off his conversation with the other man.
"Greetings, Nikometros," Dymnos said when Niko came close. "Tirses was telling me of your exploits among the Massegetae. By the gods, you made your mark there." He laughed and smacked his stallion on the flank, causing it to shy and whicker with annoyance.
Nikometros guided Diomede alongside, pulling his stallion's head away as it tried to nip the other horse. "Don't believe everything you hear. Scythians love a good tale and will make one up if they cannot think of a true one." He grinned at Tirses. "Not that I'm calling anyone a liar, of course."
Tirses snorted. "Any other man I'd call out if he called me a liar. Not this one though. I value my life too much."
"Indeed," Dymnos chuckled. "I heard about your combat with the priestess' champion. Unarmed, yet you defeated a fully armed warrior?"
"The gods smiled on me," Nikometros replied with genuine humility.
"Or goddess, more like, from what I hear." Dymnos smiled. "I would be honoured if you addressed me by name, Nikometros. I think my rank will only be higher for a short while." He caught the puzzled look on the other man's face. "This trial will be but a formality. When the lord Hephaestion hears how you secured the trust and goodwill of the border tribes, I would be very surprised if he didn't promote you."
"Well, we shall see...Dymnos." Nikometros leaned back to catch the eye of Tirses. "I would have a moment alone, my friend."
Tirses saluted and slowed his horse, falling back to join his tribesmen.
Dymnos said nothing but cocked a quizzical eye at Nikometros.
"Timon thinks we should stop for the night, perhaps at the next town," Nikometros stated. "I agree."
"This required you speaking to me alone?"
Nikometros glanced away. His gaze settled on nearby groves of fruit trees, the branches laden with green buds of unidentifiable fruit. "Er, no. I was hoping to find, well...a jeweler or a goldsmith..."
"Ah! A token for the lady." Dymnos grinned. "All is well between you then, Nikometros?"
"I think so, Dymnos, though I would find some present for her. She likes gold ornaments."
Dymnos nodded. "I find gold is always acceptable to women."
Nikometros glanced at the rider beside him. "That brings me to my problem," he muttered. He cleared his throat before continuing. "I have no money." A flush creeping into his face, Nikometros hurried on. "Scythians don't use it and I had no need. My army pay for the last year should...if and when I get it..."
"You need a loan," Dymnos replied. He grimaced. "You're welcome to what I have, Nikometros," he said, fingering a small leather purse at his belt, "But I fear all I have would barely buy a jug of wine at an inn."
Nikometros shook his head. "Never mind. I thank you for your offer."
"Even if I had money, it would be useless to you. There are no towns between Ekbatana and here. I thought to push on to the city. We could reach it not long after dark."
"And miss the sight of the great walls? I would rather come in sight of the city in daylight."
Dymnos laughed. "Yes, that would impress a lady used to open plains and small towns. Very well, Nikometros, I'll look around for a place to camp for the night."
"Perhaps Tomyra will be content with the sight of Ekbatana until I can afford a jewel." Nikometros smiled.
Dymnos pursed his lips, forehead wrinkling in thought. "Why not give her something beautiful in the meantime? A flower perhaps?"
"A flower? Are you serious, Dymnos?"
"Have you never given her a flower, Nikometros?" Dymnos grinned and shook his head. "You still have much to
learn about women. Believe me, she'll like it."
Nikometros looked around at dusty farmland slowly giving way to pasture and groves of trees. "Where would I find a flower?"
"Go and look. I'll have the men make camp at the next clean stream." He smiled at Nikometros' ardent search of the surrounding area. "Go and find your flower, Nikometros, then take it to your lady."
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Chapter Six
"Did I not say it is a spectacle worthy of the gods?" Nikometros' eyes sparkled with awe and joy. "There lies Ekbatana, summer palace of the Persian kings."
The Scythian horsemen drew rein and sat stock still in the middle of the road, staring at the city that rose up before them, sparkling in the early morning light. The Royal Road from the north crested a low line of hills before dipping to a great flat expanse of pasture. Beyond the open plain the hills rose again, increasingly dotted with buildings of stone and wood. The houses clustered in groups, gathering together and shrinking beneath the enormous edifice that reared in their midst. A great white wall dwarfed the nearby buildings as if the hills ended in a colossal cliff face. Tiny figures of men could be seen atop towering battlements, the sun glinting on burnished armour and spear points as they moved along its walkways.
Behind the white wall rose another, but this one gleamed black, a wedge of darkness that seemed to soak up morning light as if night had fallen once more. Rising above it, another wall, this one crimson in colour. Then successively great rings of blue and orange-painted stone layered beyond. High atop the hill, encircled by these five huge rings of stone, lay two smaller concentric walls. Beaten sheets of silver plated the stone of the outer ring, sending blinding shards of light flashing across the countryside. Within it lay the brilliant but mellow glow of gold, spread over the innermost walls; precious metal that proclaimed the richness of the kingdom for all to see.
"Impressive," Ket muttered as he stared at the artistic scene before him. "Though it is still small and insignificant beside the grandeur of Thebes in my beloved Egypt."
