Scythian Trilogy Book 3: Funeral in Babylon

by Max Overton

  The goat entered, bleating with fear, dragged by one of the young courtiers.

  Perdikkas drew his dagger and, pulling its head back, slit its throat. The goat struggled and kicked, spraying its blood over the floor and those standing nearby. One of the squires held a bowl to catch the blood.

  Perdikkas dipped his fingers into the hot blood and lifted his hand high, while the young squire held out the bowl to the others. The general swore an old and colourful oath, binding himself in the most horrific way to honour the terms of the truce. "Swear as I did," Perdikkas said quietly.

  One by one, the generals, followed by the officers and commanders and then the common soldiers, came forward and dipped their fingers in the blood, swearing the oath.

  "Good," Ptolemy said as the last of the men present swore. "Officers of Colonel rank and above to the Conference Room. We have things to discuss."

  As the men started filing from the room, servants ran in with bandages and water to take care of the wounded.

  Peukestas signalled to Nikometros. "Send for the embalmers, son. Let them prepare the body for burial."

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  * * *

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Days passed, the city of Babylon seething with rumours and intrigue. The army of Alexander split reluctantly into two wary camps--the infantry of Meleagros camped around and within the palace, the cavalry of Perdikkas in the royal parks adjacent. This atmosphere of distrust engendered a rise in crime within the city, bands of thugs roamed the streets with impunity, raping, looting and generally causing mischief.

  Despite the dangers, Nikometros felt impelled to move his family out of the lesser palace and into lodgings within the city. Not being able to watch constantly within the palace grounds because of his cavalry connections, he was reluctant to trust his loved ones to the dubious attentions of the infantry phalanx.

  The generals, too, moved out of the palace grounds. Perdikkas stayed close to the source of his power, the cavalry, bivouacking in the royal park. Ptolemy, Peukestas, Eumenes and other senior officers stayed with wealthy Persian friends in the city.

  Nikometros and Tomyra found lodgings at one of the better taverns, having the money to rent a suite of rooms for themselves, Starissa and her nurses. However, space was at a premium, there being many staff officers and court officials uprooted from their normal lives.

  Thus, Timon and Bithyia lodged at another tavern close by. As Bithyia neared her time, Timon was reluctant to leave her or to put her to undue exertion, so Nikometros and Tomyra left their daughter in the care of her nurses and visited their friends.

  Tirses and Berinax joined them, having something urgent to discuss. They gathered in an upstairs room in the tavern, where Bithyia could relax on a cushioned couch.

  "Menares reports to me that he and the other 'Lions' wish to return to Scythia," stated Tirses. "They've already sent word home and received a reply."

  "But that'll be suicide!" Timon said. "Do they have a death wish?"

  Tirses shook his head. "No, my friend, though a year ago I would have agreed with you. It seems even Parasades can change his mind."

  "Can he be trusted?" asked Nikometros. "He may just kill them when they return."

  "Again, no," Tirses said. "He gives his word as chief of the Massegetae and swears an oath on the Mother Goddess that he will allow them back."

  "Why do they want to return?" Bithyia asked. "I thought they swore to follow lord Nikometros into permanent exile."

  Tirses shrugged. "Things change. When we left Scythia it was an adventure and they had great pride in being 'Lions'. Now...?"

  "Now they're disillusioned and long for home," growled Berinax, completing his friend's statement. "Forgive me, lord," he nodded at Nikometros, "But in Scythia people looked up to them as the chosen men of the great barbarian war leader. Here, the lord Nikometros is but one of many, and not of the highest. They feel let down."

  "Also, they feel their oath to serve Alexander ceased with his death," added Tirses.

  "Ingrates," muttered Timon.

  "It's true," Nikometros said quietly. "I don't blame them. All they have of Scythia is what they carry with them."

  "So who wants to return?" asked Tomyra.

  "Berinax and I will remain here in my lord's service," Tirses said firmly. "The others want to return and intend to set out immediately, providing lord Nikometros will give his permission."

  "What if he doesn't?" asked Tomyra.

  "Then they will wait awhile but go anyway. They would feel bad though."

  "Gods preserve us," Timon muttered. "We wouldn't want that."

  Nikometros smiled. "Very well. They have my permission...and my blessing. I'll pray that Parasades keeps his word."

  "Thank you," Tirses said, rising. "I'll convey your words to Menares at once. Berinax?"

  Berinax got up and followed Tirses to the door.

  Tomyra put down her cup and stood also. "Wait. I'll accompany you." She turned to Nikometros. "I'd better check on Starissa. I don't like leaving her alone too long with the city in this state. Bithyia, I'm sorry. I'll return in the morning."

  "She isn't alone, my love," Nikometros replied. "The nurses are with her and are devoted to her service." He smiled. "However, I agree. I'll come with you."

  "No, stay, Niko. I know you and Timon have things to discuss. Tirses will see me home."

  Tirses nodded. "With my life, sir."

  Tomyra and her bodyguard left.

  Bithyia retired to her bedroom mildly complaining of backaches while Nikometros and Timon settled back with their wine.

  "It's hard to believe discipline could break down so fast," said Timon. "Less than a week and we're back to the lawless times before Philip's accession." He grinned. "I don't suppose you can remember those, Niko?"

  "No. And nor can you. You aren't that old."

  Timon shook his head. "I can remember my father talking of them, though. Bad times."

  "It won't be that bad. The generals will get things sorted soon."

  "Maybe if they wanted the same thing. As it is they're all pulling in different directions. They'll pull this empire apart if they're not careful."

  "I know what you mean. Perdikkas wants to be another Alexander. Ptolemy just wants to retire to Egypt but can't stand the thought of Perdikkas in power. Peukestas wants an end to the fighting. He's happy enough in Persia. The gods alone know what will happen when General Krateros confronts Antipatros in Macedon. Eumenes? Well, I'm not sure what he wants...aside from power."

  "And Meleagros?"

  "That joke? He's nothing but a jumped-up phalanx commander and not a very good one at that."

  "He controls the infantry though."

  "Only because he controls that half-wit Arridaios. That can't last. Sooner or later the infantry will come to their senses."

  "So what will you do, Niko? Who do you support?"

  Nikometros sank back in his chair, a thoughtful look on his face. "See what happens, I suppose. I'm on Perdikkas' staff though I'm not sure that's where I want to be." He sipped from his cup, his eyes unfocused, staring at the wall. "I'd like to return home to Macedon but there'll be civil war there soon. I don't want to take my family into that. I can't go back to Scythia either, though I think Tomyra would like to."

  "What about your father? Would Ptolemy find a place for you?"

  "Possibly. Egypt is an interesting place, Timon. Easily defensible, rich, and best of all, the people love us Macedonians." Nikometros smiled. "You know, that might be..."

  The sound of running feet and shouting interrupted him. The door burst open and Berinax stumbled in, gasping and clutching his side. Blood soaked his tunic and welled through his fingers, spattering the wooden floorboards.

  Nikometros and Timon leapt to their feet, wine cups flying, and caught Berinax as he collapsed.

  "My lady," the Scythian gasped, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. "She...she's been..." Berinax slumped, his eyes rolling back in his he
ad.

  Nikometros shook the man, his own eyes wide and staring. "What? What has happened?" A sound behind him made him turn, his hand fumbling for his sword. Bithyia stood in the doorway to the bedroom, her mouth open with horror.

  "What has happened to Tomyra?" she whispered. "And Starissa?"

  Timon lowered Berinax to the floor and crossed to his wife, taking her in his arms. "We don't know, but we'll find out."

  Nikometros stood and stared at his friend. "Stay here, Timon. Look after Bithyia." He turned and ran from the room, crashing down the stairs and through the main room of the tavern, sending patrons flying and stumbling out of his path. He raced through the streets, sword in hand. Pedestrians fled from the wild-eyed man and shouts of alarm rose in his wake.

  Nikometros arrived outside his lodgings to find a small crowd gathered. He pushed through to where a Scythian crouched over the body of a man on the roadway.

  He looked up as Nikometros grasped him by the shoulder. "My...my lord," stuttered the man. "It's Menares, he's dead."

  "What happened?" Nikometros looked around at the curious faces then at the entrance to the tavern. He took a step away from the Scythians. "Where is she? Where are my wife and daughter?" He stumbled toward the doorway.

  "My lord," said the Scythian, rising to his feet. "They've gone. They..."

  Nikometros rounded on him. "Gone? Where have they gone?" He paused and peered closely at the man. "Eraxes, isn't it? Where have they gone, Eraxes?"

  "We were set upon in the street. Several men." Eraxes hung his head. "They...they took the priestess, my lord. And your daughter."

  "And you didn't defend her?"

  Eraxes nodded and held out his arm. Blood oozed sluggishly from a rent in his chest. "We arrived too late to prevent them, lord. They already had them. Menares died in vain."

  Nikometros looked at the body on the roadway. Already, the bystanders were moving away, having lost interest now that the excitement was over. "Where is Tirses?" he asked. "Tirses swore to protect her."

  "Wounded, my lord, but he follows, with Loces. He bade me stay here until help arrived. Berinax went to find you. He did find you, lord?"

  "Where did they go?"

  Eraxes pointed down the street toward the docks. "Er, shall I find the other Scythians, my lord? We could pursue them."

  "Yes, do that," muttered Nikometros.

  Behind him, Eraxes hovered uncertainly. "I'll just go then," he muttered to himself. He turned and hurried away in the opposite direction, leaving the body of his friend to be found by the next passing guard patrol.

  Nikometros stepped over the body of Menares and pushed past a couple of men still gawking at the scene. Breaking into a run, he raced down the uneven street toward the lower city, his face contorted in a fierce snarl and his sword at the ready. He ran through the darkened streets, heading down toward the docks and the warehouses crowded with the supplies of the aborted Arabian expedition. He came to the main thoroughfare paralleling the river and stopped, searching the darkness for a hint of his quarry. The road lay in shadowed silence, broken only by the snarling of dogs over some morsel of food and the soft slap of the water against the docks. He felt a great burst of despair wash over him and he threw back his head and howled.

  "Tomyra!"

  Dark shadows detached from the inkiness of the warehouses and flitted across the road as the echoes of the cry died away. One figure gripped Nikometros' sword arm as the other hurled itself onto his back, hand searching to silence the man.

  Nikometros staggered and fell to one knee, struggling to free his sword arm. He yelled again, incoherently, and hit out at the man hanging onto his back. The man grunted in pain.

  "My lord," gasped the man. "Be quiet, I beg you!"

  "Tirses?" Nikometros stopped struggling and sat down hard on the stone paving of the road.

  The dark figures let go of Nikometros and squatted beside him. "Niko," Tirses said quietly. "It's very important that you keep quiet and listen."

  "Where is Tomyra? My daughter?" Nikometros pushed himself to his knees, his sword scraping on the road.

  Tirses pushed him down again with a curse. "Loces, control him. Sit on him if you have to." He gripped Nikometros tightly and brought his face close to his commander's. "Niko. If you don't keep quiet, Tomyra could die."

  Nikometros ceased his struggling at once. "Go on," he said.

  "We pursued them to a street near here, Niko. They turned on us and disarmed us. They wanted us to carry a message to you."

  Nikometros looked at Tirses in silence for a few moments, then shrugged loose of the man's grip. "What's the message?"

  "They said, 'Tomyra and your daughter are alive and unhurt. If you want to see them continue that way you must come alone to a place of their choosing at a time of their choosing.'"

  "And where is this place?"

  "They didn't say. You're to return to your lodgings and they'll send word."

  "If you hadn't stopped me, Tirses, I might have attracted their attention and be with them right now."

  "Dead more like, and your family too." Tirses shrugged, the gesture almost lost in the darkness. "At least if you wait you might be able to come up with some sort of plan."

  "I don't need a plan," Nikometros said bleakly, getting to his feet. "I'll meet them wherever they want."

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  * * *

  Chapter Forty-Six

  "I have men scouring the waterfront right now," Ptolemy said. "Rest assured, Nikometros, we'll find your wife and daughter."

  "I'm not sure that's best, sir," replied Nikometros quietly. "If the kidnappers are found they may panic and kill my family. They said they would contact me."

  "Nonsense. You must take the initiative." Perdikkas looked disapprovingly. He sat rocked back in a carved chair with his booted heels resting on a table covered with documents. The chair tipped as he moved, a leg sinking into the soft earth inside the tent and he hurriedly lowered his legs. "You cannot let these brigands dictate to you."

  Nikometros walked to the opening of the tent and looked out. Outside the immediate vicinity of the general's tent, the royal park brimmed over with cavalry, horses tethered in lines hard by the tents. Mess halls dispensed food but a few strides from latrine trenches; armourers filling the air with clamour next to camp followers. He frowned and turned back to the two generals.

  "This cannot continue, sir." Nikometros waved his hand vaguely, encompassing the whole park. "We're vulnerable here."

  "Do you think I don't know that?" snapped Perdikkas. "But as long as that bastard Meleagros controls the half-wit, there's little we can do."

  "The longer you leave him in control, the more entrenched he'll get," Ptolemy said. He covered a smile with one hand, though his eyes twinkled. "They tell me Meleagros calls himself Chiliarch these days. I thought that was your title, Perdikkas."

  "It is," Perdikkas replied. "However, Alexander himself gave me this in front of you all." He held up Alexander's royal ring. "This gives me more power than any self-proclaimed title."

  "Maybe, but the cavalry is still outnumbered five to one. The infantry follow the new...faugh, I cannot call him king! This puppet of Meleagros."

  Voices raised in argument intruded.

  Nikometros walked to the tent entrance and looked out, seeking the cause of the disturbance. A squad of about a hundred infantrymen stood arguing by the roped off area around the tent. A small group of squires stood between the foot soldiers and the general's tent, nervously fingering their swords.

  One of the squires turned and ran back to Perdikkas' tent, brandishing a piece of paper. He burst into the tent, pushing Nikometros to one side and executing a hurried salute. "Sir, the rebels are outside. They have a royal warrant for your arrest."

  Ptolemy grabbed the paper and scanned it quickly before passing it to Perdikkas. "That's what it says."

  Perdikkas read it out loud. "Treason, eh?" he snorted, when he finished. "Well, we'll see about that." He got up
and buckled on his sword belt.

  "Sir, is that wise?" asked Nikometros. "I can raise the guard with a shout and I'm sure the squires can hold them for the few minutes it would take for them to arrive."

  "That's right, sir," agreed the squire. "We can hold them."

  Perdikkas smiled at Nikometros and clapped the squire on the shoulder. "No need. I'll talk to Meleagros' men." He tossed back his hair and squared his shoulders before marching out to meet the infantry squad.

  Perdikkas walked out past the squires and stood alone in front of the soldiers sent to arrest him. He paused, unconcernedly looking at his fingernails before he began quietly to speak. Greeting the officer in charge by name, he reviewed the last campaign they had fought in together against the Kossaians. "You know, Alkestas," Perdikkas went on, addressing his remarks directly at the infantry officer. "Alexander spoke highly of you after that campaign." He shook his head, frowning. "I wonder what Alexander would think of you now, disgracing yourselves like this. You know, as well as I, that Alexander's half-witted brother has been used before as an object of intrigue." He lowered his voice confidentially, the other officer leaning closer to hear him. "Most kings would have killed him, but what did Alexander do? He cared for him, knowing he was an innocent, incapable of anything but childish pursuits. And you want to make him king? I'm amazed that Alexander's men would come to me as servants of Meleagros, doing his bidding. You know this arrest warrant comes from Meleagros--a man Alexander wouldn't trust with senior command, knowing his character too well."

  Perdikkas paused and yawned, looking disinterestedly at the shuffling soldiers. "Well," he said at last. "You disgust me. In truth I imagine you disgust yourselves. You're dismissed." He turned his back and sauntered toward his tent.

  Alkestas flushed and looked around at his men. None would meet his eye. They milled around and stared at the ground.

  The officer's shoulders slumped. "About turn," he rapped. "We're going home, lads."

  The squires grinned and they, together with other cavalrymen who had gathered to find out what was happening, gave Perdikkas a cheer.