'Walk with me,' he said.

We walked down the beach, and I remember the smell of the sea-wrack and the dead fish rotting in the white-hot summer sun.

He put an arm around my shoulder. 'I thought you'd deserted,' he said. 'I apologize. Men will tell you that I said some things about you. But you are weeks overdue.'

'I had a lot of copper in my bilges,' I said. And it was true. 'I went to a port I know in Crete to sell it.'

He wasn't listening. 'Right, right,' he said. 'I have a note for you. From Olorus.' He handed me a small silver tube.

I opened it. It held a sc.r.a.p of papyrus, and on it someone had written a verse of Sappho.

I smiled.

'I have a big draft of recruits coming in,' he said. 'You planning to crew that Ephesian ship yourself?'

'Planning to return him to his true owner,' I said. 'An old friend of mine. But I paid you your half.'

Miltiades shook his head. 'I told your father once that you were more like an aristocrat than most men I knew,' he said. 'You love this man enough to give him a ship ship?'

I had an idea a mad idea. I'd thought about it since I'd had Diomedes' captain under the point of my sword. Or perhaps since Troas told me that I should go back to the plough and find a home.

I would need Miltiades' good will, though. So I shrugged and told the truth always disarming with manipulative men. And women. 'I love Aristagoras's wife,' I said.

It was Miltiades' turn to shrug. 'I know,' he said. 'I've seen her. Even pregnant. And men tell me things. About you, too.'

'It is her ship,' I said.

Miltiades nodded. He turned to face me and he was a different man. He was dealing with me a new way one warlord to another, maybe. Or one adulterer to another. 'If you send her that ship,' he said, 'her husband will take it and lose it.'

'I thought that I might just kill her husband,' I said. And go back to my farm in Boeotia? And go back to my farm in Boeotia? I wondered. I wondered.

'His people would follow you to Thule. To the Hyperboreans.' Miltiades shook his head. 'I hate the b.a.s.t.a.r.d, too, but if he goes down, my hand can't be in it, and that goes double for my captains. I feared you might have some such foolishness in mind.'

I turned away.

'Bide your time,' Miltiades said. 'You're young, and she's young. I a.s.sume she loves you, too? If she didn't, Aristagoras would hardly hate you the way he does.'

'Does he?' I asked. 'He's pretty d.i.c.kless.'

Miltiades chuckled. 'It's true his parts must be fairly small. But he did try to have you murdered on Lesbos,' the Athenian said. 'You'll recall that I saw to it.' He grinned. 'I've been a good friend to you.'

Ah, the delightful customs of the aristocracy.

'There's no rush,' Miltiades said again. 'Listen to me, boy.'

I was getting wiser in the ways of men hard men. When Paramanos brought his daughters aboard, I knew he was mine because he'd committed his life to the Chersonese. I liked him but I needed needed him. And yes, I would have twisted his arm to keep him. The longer I spent with Miltiades, the more like him I would become. That summer, I was the highest earner of all Miltiades' captains. Briseis gave him a hold on me. He knew it, and I knew he knew it. I wasn't going anywhere. him. And yes, I would have twisted his arm to keep him. The longer I spent with Miltiades, the more like him I would become. That summer, I was the highest earner of all Miltiades' captains. Briseis gave him a hold on me. He knew it, and I knew he knew it. I wasn't going anywhere.

'He looks like a good ship,' Miltiades said cheerfully. 'Crew him up and give him to Paramanos.' He looked at my new acquisition. 'When the time is right, when you need help, I'll see to it you have my aid in getting your girl. My word on it.'

Now, Miltiades was as foxy as his red head proclaimed, subtle, devious and dangerous. He lied, he stole and he would do anything, and I mean anything, for power. But when he gave his word, that was his word word. He was the very archetype of the kind of Greek the Persians couldn't understand the kind of man Artaphernes detested, all talk and no honesty, as Persians saw it. But when he gave his word, a thing was done.

'Even if I'm dead,' I said.

He took my hand, and we shook. 'Even if you are dead. Athena Nike, G.o.ddess of Victory, and Ajax my ancestor hear my oath.'

And that was that.

I named the new ship Briseis Briseis and I kept the newly enfranchised rowers, crewing the deck and marines from Miltiades' men, including all his former slaves. Our new recruits came from Athens, three hundred men. I let Paramanos pick himself a crew from the best of them. Miltiades had an arrangement with the city it was a secret, or so I reckoned, since even Herk and Cimon were closed-mouthed about it. But the men who came were and I kept the newly enfranchised rowers, crewing the deck and marines from Miltiades' men, including all his former slaves. Our new recruits came from Athens, three hundred men. I let Paramanos pick himself a crew from the best of them. Miltiades had an arrangement with the city it was a secret, or so I reckoned, since even Herk and Cimon were closed-mouthed about it. But the men who came were thetes thetes, low-cla.s.s free men of Athens, and sometimes of Athenian allies like Plataea or Corcyra. The cities were rid of their malcontents and we got motivated men, ready to fight for a new life. Miltiades swore them to service he was absolute lord in the Chersonese, and he didn't play games with democracy like some tyrants and made them citizens.

He got aristocrats, too not many, and most of them down on their luck but he bought their loyalty with land and rich prizes and they served him as household officers and marines.

The positive side to the arrangement was that new men former slaves like Idomeneus and Lekthes and me were at home in the Chersonese. The aristocrats needed us and treated us as equals, or near enough.

Miltiades' informants said that the Great King, Darius, was tired of the pirates in the Chersonese, and intended to send a strong naval expedition against us. On the opposite sh.o.r.e of the Bosporus, Artaphernes and his generals, Hymaees and Otanes and Darius's son-in-law, Daurises, campaigned against the Carians. The first battle was a b.l.o.o.d.y loss for the men of bronze, and they sent to Lesbos for help from their supposed confederates, the men of Aeolis, but the new tyrant ignored them. They fought a second battle to a b.l.o.o.d.y draw, and though they lost many of their best men, they drove the Medes from Caria for a time.

We felt like spectators worse, we felt like truants or deserters. The fighting was so close that we could sometimes see troops moving on the opposite sh.o.r.e. I would train my marines with actual sparabara sparabara, the elite Persian infantry, visible across the straits.

By midsummer, Miltiades could take no more. He added another pair of triremes to his fleet, purchasing them from Athens, got another draft of new men to crew them, then took us to sea to attack the Phoenician squadron that supported Darius's army.

We had better rowers. Our ships, except mine, were lower and faster under oars, and we could turn faster. Miltiades insisted that we were fighting for profit, not glory, so we were cautious, attacking only when we had overwhelming odds, seizing a store ship here and a Lebanese merchant there.

By the great feast of Heracles, I couldn't stand it any more. My ship was not suited to these tactics and all my crewmen were grumbling because we were s.n.a.t.c.hing at snacks while the other crews feasted.

I wonder now if Miltiades intended that I should revolt.

A great many things happened in the s.p.a.ce of a few days, and the course of events is lost to me now. I can only tell this as I remember it. I remember sitting in a wine shop on the quay, drinking good Chian wine with Paramanos and Stephanos. Paramanos had his own ship, the Briseis Briseis, and he wanted Lekthes as his marine captain.

I shrugged. 'Can't you find your own?' I asked.

He laughed. 'Why not give me all your marines? You don't use them any more.' He chuckled, and I frowned. It was true. My ship was too heavy for the new tactics.

Stephanos shook his head. 'Why don't we go after them where no one can run?' he asked.

Now, it's worth saying that the Phoenician commander, Ba'ales, had a dozen warships at Lampasdis, down the Bosporus towards the Troad. Miltiades had eight ships, all smaller. We always ran when the warships came out. They always ran from us when they were outnumbered.

It was a hard summer for oarsmen on both sides.

I fingered my beard and admired my ship. I loved to sit and look at him while I had a cup of wine. 'Miltiades can't risk it,' I said. 'We only have to lose once and Artaphernes has us. He can lose two or three squadrons and he can always force Tyre to send more.'

Stephanos drank some wine, admired the woman serving it and began to dabble in the spilled wine on the table. 'I just keep thinking of the Aegyptian raid,' he said. 'No risk, no blood and a crippling blow.'

My eyes met Paramanos's over the rims of our wine cups.

'We could catch them on the beach,' he said. I had the same thought in my head.

'They must have lookouts and coast-watchers,' I said. 'All down the strait. Every three or four stades.'

'We certainly do,' Stephanos said, morosely. Indeed, every farmer on our side of the Bosporus reported on ship movements.

We broke up without any decision. But we talked about it every time we were together catching Ba'ales on the beach, his men asleep.

And some time just after that, while I was arguing with Paramanos on the beach, Cimon brought a man up beside me.

'I can make Lekthes' career,' Paramanos was insisting.

I knew he was right. But Lekthes was closer to me than any of my other men except Stephanos and Idomeneus, and I was loath to give him up. Thugater, there is no argument as harsh as one where you know that you are wrong.

'By Zeus of the waves, you are a thankless b.a.s.t.a.r.d. I found you a prisoner and I've made you a captain-' I was spitting mad.

'You? Made me a captain?' Paramanos grew in size. 'Without me, you'd be at the bottom of the ocean three times over. I taught you everything you know. There's no debt between us-'

'My lords?' Cimon asked. He was my own age, of impeccable ancestry and had beautiful manners. He was already a prominent man, not least because he disdained his father's politics. Cimon always wanted to fight. What he wanted was glory glory for himself and glory for Athens. On that day, he leaned forward, holding his staff, and the only sign that anything was amiss was the trace of a smile on his lips that suggested we were making a spectacle of ourselves.

'Your heart is as black as your skin, you f.u.c.king ingrate!' I did say that.

'And which of us is a former slave? I can smell the pig s.h.i.t on you from here, t.u.r.d-flinger!' Paramanos pointed a finger at me. 'You are like all dirt-grubbers you can't stand to see another man succeed. You think it makes you fail! Lekthes deserves-'

Cimon stepped between us. 'My lords?' he said again.

'Keep out of it, Cimon. I'm tired of his poaching my best crewmen. ' I was equally tired of how, now that he was an independent captain, Paramanos was the highest earner. It suggested that he was right he had made me. And that enraged me.

Some friend. Youth is wasted on the young. I knew he was right about Lekthes, and I suspected that he was right about how much I owed him.

'Arimnestos?' asked a voice I knew.

The man standing at Cimon's side was dressed like a peasant, in a dirty hide ap.r.o.n over a stained chiton, with a dog's-head cap on blond curls. The name was said so softly that I wasn't sure I had heard right, and I turned, my tirade draining out of me.

'Arimnestos?' he asked again, and his voice was stronger, happier.

'Hermogenes?' It took me a moment. I hadn't seen him for eight years. He was a man, not a boy. He had a bad scar on his face, a cut that went from the top of his scalp to the top of his nose.

He grinned as if he'd just won the Olympian Games. 'Arimnestos! '

We fell into each other's arms.

Such was my happiness the instant, life-affirming happiness of rediscovering a friend from home that I burbled the story of my life in a hundred heartbeats, leaving out everything that mattered, and then turned to Paramanos.

'I'm a f.u.c.king idiot,' I said. 'Lekthes needs to go and be an officer. And I do owe you my life.'

That shut him up. Ha! What a tactic. Capitulate utterly. Leaves your opponent with nothing to say. He sputtered, and then he embraced me.

We sat in my favourite wine shop, Hermogenes and me, Lord Cimon, Miltiades' son, and Herk.

'You never came back,' Hermogenes said. He was happy and angry at the same time. 'We waited and waited, and you didn't come back to camp. And then Simonalkes came back and said that you were dead.' He shrugged. 'I searched the battlefield for your corpse and I couldn't find you. I asked everyone even Miltiades. He knew who you were, and he knew where your father had fallen.' He looked at me. 'You've changed,' he said accusingly. 'You haven't talked to Miltiades about any of this?'

I shrugged. 'No,' I said. 'He doesn't concern himself with petty things.'

'Petty?' Hermogenes asked. 'Petty? Arimnestos, your cousin Simonalkes has married your mother and taken your farm. Is that nothing to you?' He drank down his wine. 'My father sent me I don't know, three years back? Sent me to Athens to find Miltiades and you, if your shade was still in your body. Simonalkes always said that you were dead killed in the last rush of the Eretrians. But there was no body.' He looked at me. 'What happened?'

I felt a rush of memory. It wasn't that I had hidden the memories, it was only that I hadn't thought about them I hope that makes sense, honey. Young people live in the moment. I had lived in the moment for eight years. Hidden, if you like. Men in stories rush home to avenge their fathers. I had been a slave. I didn't want to go home.

Sometimes, in the silence of my slave cubicle at Hipponax's house, or on my bed in Lord Achilles' palace, I would think of home. Sometimes I would dream of ravens flying west, or I would see a raven and I would think of home always a home with Pater and my brother. As if they were alive.

But they weren't alive. They were dead. And I knew, as soon as I let myself think about it, that Simonalkes had killed my father. I could see him, turning away from the fighting line, the f.u.c.king coward, his sword red at the tip, and Pater falling. Stabbed from behind.

It is like the difference between hearing that your woman is sleeping with your friend and finding them together in your bed. Hermogenes was there there. It was time to face the facts.

'I was sold into slavery,' I said, slowly. 'I was at Ephesus, as a slave. For years.'

Hermogenes pursed his lips and fingered the scar on his forehead. 'That would have been hard for you, I think,' he said. There spoke a man who had been a slave.

'It was hardest at first,' I said, and I told him about the slave pens. More than I've told you, actually. He was born a slave, and in our family. He was never sold, nor bought.

'That was terrible,' he said. 'Zeus Soter I never had to do any of that. Pater did, though. He's told me the story, a dozen times how he was taken, how he struggled and failed to escape, and how your father bought him.' Hermogenes shrugged. 'Simonalkes tried to re-enslave us, but old Epictetus stuck up for us. Thanks to him, Pater is a citizen now.' 'And you've been looking for me for three years?' I asked.

He shrugged. 'On and off, friend. I had to eat.'

'What did you do?' I asked.

He looked at the wine shop table. 'Things,' he said. 'A little carpentry. Some gardening.' He took a sip of wine. 'Some theft.'

'By the father of the G.o.ds,' I said, 'how did you come here?'

He flexed his shoulders and rubbed his scar again. 'An Athenian magistrate gave me the choice: come here or have an ear cut off.' He smiled. 'Not a hard choice. And then, when I was waiting in a warehouse with a bunch of other lowlifes, I heard a man mention your name he said we'd be fighting under Miltiades of Athens, and Cimon, and Arimnestos Doru. When I got here, Cimon took me for his crew. He said that you were a Plataean. It seemed too much to hope. But here we are.'

Cimon shook his head. 'What a tale!' He looked at me. 'I take it this man is your friend, as he claimed to me.'

I nodded. 'Absolutely.'

Cimon smiled. 'I shouldn't give him to you. For the things you shouted at Paramanos.'

I hung my head. 'I was in the wrong,' I said.

Cimon shrugged. 'You know what I like about you, Arimnestos? That you can say it just like that. "I was in the wrong."' He nodded. 'Have your friend, and may your friendship always be blessed. You owe me an oarsman.'

'I'll see to it you get the best I have,' I said. Having Hermogenes sitting by my side was like a drink of clean water on a hot day, for all that his news disturbed me.

'I don't need your best. He may be your friend, but he's a scrawny sewer rat. Send me another and we're quits.' Cimon rose. His eyes grew serious. 'This man Simonalkes really murdered your father, Doru?'

I nodded.

Cimon made a face. 'You have have to do something about that, don't you?' He shrugged. 'Some day, some b.a.s.t.a.r.d probably an outraged husband will kill Pater. And then I'll have to kill him, or the furies will haunt me.' to do something about that, don't you?' He shrugged. 'Some day, some b.a.s.t.a.r.d probably an outraged husband will kill Pater. And then I'll have to kill him, or the furies will haunt me.'

Suddenly, with the clarity of long-delayed realization, I understood the raven dreams. 'Yes,' I said.