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.He couldn’t think of anything but the void she left, and twice on the first evening in the Assagatje camp he wept without cause.Even in his despair, he could tell that Parshtaevalt needed him.The war leader was out of his depth as Srayanka’s tanist, and he hovered near Kineas and spoke twice - haltingly - of summoning the council of chiefs, until Kineas nodded to be rid of him.Spitamenes’ betrayal was not the only news waiting in the camp of the Assagatje.When Parshtaevalt summoned the clan leaders to council, and all were seated in the fire circle before Srayanka’s wagon, Kineas saw a stranger dressed in silk.He beckoned to Parshtaevalt.‘Who is that?’ he asked.Parshtaevalt had the look of a drowning man who has been offered an oar to grab.‘That is Qares, one of Zarina’s lords from the east.He came expecting to lead us to the muster.’Kineas rubbed his beard.His eyes felt full and sore, and he didn’t want to trouble himself with the leadership of the Assagatje.Indeed, for a day he had shunned his own men.Parshtaevalt threw his hands in the air.‘What could I do? I am not the lord of the Assagatje!’ he said.‘Kineax! Take this burden from me.I can command a raid.But where are we to winter? Shall we ride to this muster? How can we rescue our lady?’ He was distraught, his arms raised to heaven as if imploring the gods.‘I am not a king!’ he said.Kineas shook his head despondently.‘Nor am I,’ he said.‘But you summoned the council for me when you chose not to do it yourself.’The Sakje chief scratched his head and sighed.‘I am a war leader,’ he said.‘Peace councils leave me confused.I was - waiting.And look, you came!’‘I am not the king of the Assagatje,’ Kineas said.‘You are her consort,’ Parshtaevalt said.‘That is enough.’And so it proved.The council made it clear from their respectful silence that they wished Kineas to take command.Kineas had enough experience with Sakje to listen to what they left unsaid.He rose, angered at their hesitation and their silent insistence.‘I am not your king.Why do you sit awaiting my orders?’ he asked.None of the chiefs said anything.Several of them glanced at Parshtaevalt, as if waiting for him to speak.Finally, Bain, the most aggressive of the war leaders, rose.‘Lord, you are the Lady’s consort, and you led us all through the campaigns last year.Even if Srayanka were here, she would share her authority with you.Lead us!’Kineas took a deep breath.‘I want to rescue Srayanka,’ he said.‘Is it even possible? We need to know what has happened in the world.I have heard rumour of betrayal, and I have heard that she is a hostage.’ Even as he spoke the words, he felt a tide of despair rise in his heart.For a moment the pain was so intense that he stopped speaking and stood in the midst of the Assagatje, head hanging.Kineas had been following Srayanka for months, and here, in the middle of the sea of grass, he had lost her again.It was too much.A strong hand clenched his shoulder, warm in the chill of evening.‘Courage, brother,’ Philokles said.‘We’ll find her.’ The Spartan was sober, which he rarely was in the evening since the storming of the citadel.‘Come on, Athenian.Head up.These people are depending on you.’Kineas swallowed.His chin came up.‘Right,’ he said.‘Let’s hear from those who know something of what has passed.’Despite Alexander’s best efforts, there was a constant exchange of men and information between the tribesmen serving Spitamenes and their cousins serving the Macedonian king, so that rumours crossed the lines in a matter of days and each side knew what the other intended and what each had done, and the camp of the Assagatje had a dozen warriors who knew what passed on the Oxus and in the valley of the Jaxartes that summer.One by one they rose in council or were sent for by their chiefs.There were three armies.Spitamenes laid siege to Marakanda, fabled city of the trade route, and his army was the last Persian army in the field against Alexander, with veteran Iranian cavalrymen and hardbitten Sogdian noblemen, exiles in their own land, who had been fighting Alexander for three and sometimes four years.Alexander had a garrison in Marakanda, fighting carefully and looking east towards the king’s army for relief.It was in the east that Alexander had his field army, still bent on rescuing the seven garrisons he had left on the Jaxartes and on keeping the third army under observation.The third army was the Scythian horde, led by the queen of the Massagetae.Her force was small, just a few thousand riders, but she had sent out the call for the full muster, and the very grass itself seemed to be moving across the steppe towards the appointed rendezvous.When her force had been described by one of Bain’s horsemen, Qares rose, and when he was recognized, he stepped forward into the council [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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.He couldn’t think of anything but the void she left, and twice on the first evening in the Assagatje camp he wept without cause.Even in his despair, he could tell that Parshtaevalt needed him.The war leader was out of his depth as Srayanka’s tanist, and he hovered near Kineas and spoke twice - haltingly - of summoning the council of chiefs, until Kineas nodded to be rid of him.Spitamenes’ betrayal was not the only news waiting in the camp of the Assagatje.When Parshtaevalt summoned the clan leaders to council, and all were seated in the fire circle before Srayanka’s wagon, Kineas saw a stranger dressed in silk.He beckoned to Parshtaevalt.‘Who is that?’ he asked.Parshtaevalt had the look of a drowning man who has been offered an oar to grab.‘That is Qares, one of Zarina’s lords from the east.He came expecting to lead us to the muster.’Kineas rubbed his beard.His eyes felt full and sore, and he didn’t want to trouble himself with the leadership of the Assagatje.Indeed, for a day he had shunned his own men.Parshtaevalt threw his hands in the air.‘What could I do? I am not the lord of the Assagatje!’ he said.‘Kineax! Take this burden from me.I can command a raid.But where are we to winter? Shall we ride to this muster? How can we rescue our lady?’ He was distraught, his arms raised to heaven as if imploring the gods.‘I am not a king!’ he said.Kineas shook his head despondently.‘Nor am I,’ he said.‘But you summoned the council for me when you chose not to do it yourself.’The Sakje chief scratched his head and sighed.‘I am a war leader,’ he said.‘Peace councils leave me confused.I was - waiting.And look, you came!’‘I am not the king of the Assagatje,’ Kineas said.‘You are her consort,’ Parshtaevalt said.‘That is enough.’And so it proved.The council made it clear from their respectful silence that they wished Kineas to take command.Kineas had enough experience with Sakje to listen to what they left unsaid.He rose, angered at their hesitation and their silent insistence.‘I am not your king.Why do you sit awaiting my orders?’ he asked.None of the chiefs said anything.Several of them glanced at Parshtaevalt, as if waiting for him to speak.Finally, Bain, the most aggressive of the war leaders, rose.‘Lord, you are the Lady’s consort, and you led us all through the campaigns last year.Even if Srayanka were here, she would share her authority with you.Lead us!’Kineas took a deep breath.‘I want to rescue Srayanka,’ he said.‘Is it even possible? We need to know what has happened in the world.I have heard rumour of betrayal, and I have heard that she is a hostage.’ Even as he spoke the words, he felt a tide of despair rise in his heart.For a moment the pain was so intense that he stopped speaking and stood in the midst of the Assagatje, head hanging.Kineas had been following Srayanka for months, and here, in the middle of the sea of grass, he had lost her again.It was too much.A strong hand clenched his shoulder, warm in the chill of evening.‘Courage, brother,’ Philokles said.‘We’ll find her.’ The Spartan was sober, which he rarely was in the evening since the storming of the citadel.‘Come on, Athenian.Head up.These people are depending on you.’Kineas swallowed.His chin came up.‘Right,’ he said.‘Let’s hear from those who know something of what has passed.’Despite Alexander’s best efforts, there was a constant exchange of men and information between the tribesmen serving Spitamenes and their cousins serving the Macedonian king, so that rumours crossed the lines in a matter of days and each side knew what the other intended and what each had done, and the camp of the Assagatje had a dozen warriors who knew what passed on the Oxus and in the valley of the Jaxartes that summer.One by one they rose in council or were sent for by their chiefs.There were three armies.Spitamenes laid siege to Marakanda, fabled city of the trade route, and his army was the last Persian army in the field against Alexander, with veteran Iranian cavalrymen and hardbitten Sogdian noblemen, exiles in their own land, who had been fighting Alexander for three and sometimes four years.Alexander had a garrison in Marakanda, fighting carefully and looking east towards the king’s army for relief.It was in the east that Alexander had his field army, still bent on rescuing the seven garrisons he had left on the Jaxartes and on keeping the third army under observation.The third army was the Scythian horde, led by the queen of the Massagetae.Her force was small, just a few thousand riders, but she had sent out the call for the full muster, and the very grass itself seemed to be moving across the steppe towards the appointed rendezvous.When her force had been described by one of Bain’s horsemen, Qares rose, and when he was recognized, he stepped forward into the council [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]