“They went to Athens. They will attempt to meet the Queen of the Sea there and go aboard her.”
Antigonus turned to Cassander. “Find me a galley.”
Cassander nodded and left the room.
Demetria, a mile from Mugla port
“Well, we can’t go back now,” Trajan said.
“Did you want to?” Eurydice asked.
Trajan pulled an arrow from the deck of the Demetria and tossed it over the side into the sea. “I don’t know. Back in Babylon, it wasn’t just that Roxane was a foreigner, you know. The babe hadn’t been born yet, and the heir should be at least a babe. It might have been a girl. But a lot of it was just that too much had changed too fast. We followed Philip and we followed Alexander, but we’re Macedonians. Even the new ones who aren’t Macedonians by birth had the same traditions. As much as we loved Alexander, he pushed us about to the breaking point before he died.
“After he died, there was no one left we would take that from. And Perdiccas was saying ‘just wait while the generals decide, wait to see if the babe is a boy.’ We were tired of waiting and an idiot was better than no one.”
“Philip is not an idiot.”
Trajan looked at the teenaged girl, and at the bearded thirty-year-old man who followed her around like a lost puppy. He shrugged. “If you say so, Queen Eurydice. Doesn’t matter anyway. We chose Philip because we were tired of being pushed. That was all, really. We were just tired. Now we’re off to meet these new people who are stranger than Persians. All I’m saying is be careful. Don’t push us too far.”
CHAPTER 24
Mugla
May 25
Cassander told the bookkeeper to gather funds for the hiring of “one, no, two, two galleys to come here and pick up part of the army, then go to Athens.”
The clerk, unhappy, but having heard Antigonus’ orders, disbursed the money. Cassander then gathered a dozen or so close companions and rode from the camp. They were gone before dawn, and had even informed Antigonus of Cassander’s plans. Go overland to Marmaris, and if they couldn’t hire a galley there, hire a small boat to take them to Rhodes and hire one there.
All through the trip, Cassander considered. He had sat here over the winter, living off the scraps of Antigonus’ table, while Olympias pretended to be queen of Macedonia. Well, there might be a queen of Macedonia, either Roxane or Eurydice, but Olympias wasn’t and never would be again. It was time to get home and put his house in order.
☆ ☆ ☆
The sun was rising as Cassander reached Marmaris, and the morning light showed him his future. There was a galley. Not a trireme, just two rows of oars, sixty oarsmen, and barely room for a company of men. They would make good time on the trip across the Aegean Sea and back to Macedonia.
Royal Lounge, Queen of the Sea, Alexandria Harbor
May 25
“I would have been fine, Captain,” Captain Adrian Scott said, shaking his head. “Atum had everything ready, and Ptolemy was downright cordial.” He picked up his beer and sipped.
“I know, Adrian. No doubt I’m being a mother hen, but we were going to need to refuel before we headed back to Trinidad anyway. So if the schedule was going to get tweaked, might as well do it sooner rather than later.”
The waiter brought over their orders. Adrian’s burger and fries, and Lars’ roast lamb with mashed potatoes and peas.
“Well, aside from wheat and barley, I’m going to be mostly deadheading back to Trinidad. Atum has a fuel dump and he’s paying cash up front for our whole stock.”
“Why?”
“Because Ptolemy is not an idiot,” said a new voice.
Lars Floden looked up to see a Greek woman out of history, and one apparently with a sense of humor, for Cleopatra was wearing a twenty-first century costume version of pharaonic dress. In spite of which, she looked nothing like Elizabeth Taylor. It was almost enough to make Lars forgive her interruption of a private conversation. Lars didn’t like rudeness, but he had been a cruise ship captain for over a decade and while he noted a lack of manners in the passengers, he never made a public issue of it. Besides, according to Marie, this woman had grown up with Ptolemy and the rest of them. So he simply asked, “How do you mean? Would you like to join us?” He waved to a waiter and signaled for another chair.
“He’s working on steam engines,” Cleopatra said, after sitting. “In fact, if there is a satrap or king anywhere from the Pillars of Hercules to the Indian coast who isn’t working on steam engines, they will soon be deposed. They are better than elephants.”
“Yes, I guess they are,” Adrian said, looking at the woman with interest. “Steam engines rarely panic.”
“But they occasionally blow up,” Lars said. “Steam was a technology in an advanced state in our time, it’s true. But just Wiki and Britannica articles on steam power don’t provide enough information about how steam works to make it a safe technology for this time.”
“Wine,” Cleopatra said to the waiter, “and lamb kabobs.” She turned back to Lars. “Why are you concerned, Captain?” Cleopatra sounded truly interested, even through Lars’ still poor Greek.
“I would like to say it was strictly out of human decency, and that is a large part of it. But, honestly, I have to be concerned that we will get the blame when some idiot tries to build a steam engine from a badly drawn picture and kills himself.”
“Oh, some ‘idiot’ already has,” Cleopatra said. “Quite a number of them, actually. People have been working on steam engines from the time you left for the other side of the world last year. There have been deaths in Alexandria, Tyre, and Rhodes. Eumenes hadn’t had anyone die yet when we left, but he had several scalded philosophers. I haven’t heard anything but rumors from the Italian states, and Carthage is being very closed mouth about their projects and where they are getting their information. Believe me, Captain, they are working on it.”
“That reminds me, Captain,” said Adrian. “I got close enough to Formentera to have a look, and there were a bunch of ships tied up to the Port Berry docks.”
“The Carthaginians,” Cleopatra said.
“Do they really sacrifice babies?” Adrian asked.
Cleopatra’s mouth twisted in a half-smile. “Only on special occasions. Mostly, it’s lambs and calves like everyone else. I am not fond of the Carthaginians, but if I am being honest, the reason I don’t like them has less to do with their religion than with their attitude toward royalty. They have royalty, but their…gentry, I guess you’d call it, has gotten above itself. Worse than Athenians in some ways.”
“Well,” Lars said, “we will be visiting both places in the next few days, and we already have passengers from both.”
He turned back to Adrian. “When will you be through with the loading?”
“It’s going to take them a while to fill their amphorae with oil. Probably two weeks. I can start loading the grains while they’re doing that, but even the Reliance is an order of magnitude bigger than anything they have. And that’s with us playing container ship.”
“What’s a container ship?” Cleopatra asked.
“They were common in the twenty-first century. You had a standard-sized container—think of it as a very big crate, except made of steel instead of wood—that was stackable. You would load the container, then stack it on the ship,” Adrian explained. “The Reliance is a fuel collier, and not designed to carry cargo, but we worked out a way of tying down wooden containers on Barge 14’s deck and we gave Atum the dimensions and structural elements needed to make a standard wooden container. They are smaller than the ones we had back in our time and we can’t carry as many, but it lets the Reliance double as a cargo hauler when her bunkers are empty. Or mostly empty.”
“What about livestock?” Lars asked.
“No, Captain, you’re not getting out of that. It will take us twice as long to cross the Atlantic as you. That’s twice the fodder, twice the mucking out and—most important—twice the chance of storm or disease killing
off the livestock. Twice the opportunity for broken legs. And the Queen is a much bigger ship, so more able to handle heavy weather. If we hit an Atlantic storm, anything not tied down is going to be thrown against the wall.”
“What’s wrong, Captain?” Cleopatra asked.
“The Queen of the Sea is designed to be a cruise ship. A floating center for entertainment. In the eight months since The Event, we have converted it into a university and factory. The floating university doesn’t bother me. It’s close enough to the original intent that it might even be considered a step up. The floating factory…I am less happy with.”
He sighed heavily, trying to figure out how to explain. “The Queen was such a beautiful ship, inside and out. Brand new too. Everything as perfect as it could be. And now we’re transporting cows and donkeys and pigs and chickens.…”
Lars picked up his knife and sliced a bite of lamb. With the knife, he placed a bit of the mint jelly on the meat, then ate, as Cleopatra watched curiously.
Lars noticed when Cleopatra’s gaze moved to Adrian, who was picking up his hamburger to eat. “Something wrong, Cleopatra?”
“It was pointed out to me that the ‘table manners’ of many of our people are considered, ah, less than pleasant by some of the ship people. I’ve been trying to figure out what exactly ‘table manners’ are. You’re eating with your fork in your left hand, and the tines are pointed downward. Most of the ship people use their right hand for the fork. Adrian isn’t using a fork at all. So which is the correct method?”
“I’m from Europe. Scandinavia, north of here. The custom where I grew up was to use the left hand for the fork. In America, it’s to use the right hand.” Lars switched hands and demonstrated the American manner. “Adrian’s eating a hamburger, which is designed to be eaten by hand. There is a great deal of acceptable variation, but we mostly find it offensive if people speak while their mouths are full or chew with their lips open. It is a reflection of our customs in regard to sanitation. Food should not be seen after it enters the mouth.”
“Burping is considered polite in some cultures,” Adrian said with a grin.
Lars gave him a stern look. “Not in this one.”
“I was just trying to help clarify matters, Captain.”
“You were just trying to cause trouble, you mean.”
Cleopatra laughed.
“We were talking about how long until you were ready to sail,” Lars said.
“Two weeks, sir,” Adrian said. “Possibly three.”
“Darn. I’m not sure we can push the schedule that far,” Lars said. Most of the sentence had been in Greek, both out of deference to their guest and for practice, but ‘darn’ had been in English.
“And what is the distinction between ‘darn’ and ‘damn’?” Cleopatra asked. “I have heard both terms used.”
Lars blushed a little, but on Lars’ face a little was all it took. And he saw Adrian grinning at him.
“Wipe that grin off your face, Adrian.” He faced Cleopatra. “I am perhaps a bit stuffy in my use of language. Part of my job as a cruise ship captain involved an over-careful choice of words to avoid giving offense.”
“Don’t worry about it, Cleopatra,” Adrian said. “I can’t think of anything more silly than worrying about darn and damn.”
“No, Adrian, you’re wrong. At times like these, people tend to cling even more to their beliefs and be more easily offended by their breach.” He explained about darn and damn, and taking the Lord’s name in vain, and suddenly Cleopatra was laughing.
That led to a discussion about what taking the name of a god—any god—in vain actually meant in this time, and the whys behind the prohibition that neither Lars or Adrian knew.
All in all, it proved to be an interesting and far-ranging discussion.
Piraeus, port of Athens
May 28
“I don’t see the giant ship of the ship people,” Trajan said as he leaned against the railing on the grain ship.
“I hope they haven’t left,” Eurydice said worriedly.
“You see it?”
“I wouldn’t worry,” offered the ship’s captain. “Ships are often delayed. Do you think that Polyperchon will issue his proclamation of liberation for the Greek city states like he did in that other history?”
“He can’t,” Eurydice said. “He hasn’t been named regent of the empire. He is only the deputy commander of Macedonia, left there when Antipater left on his mission to steal the crown.”
The captain got a pained expression on his face and Trajan laughed. Eurydice’s version of Antipater’s goals was unkind.
“Besides, Polyperchon’s proclamation was a desperation move in his war against Cassander, and in this history Cassander is still with Antigonus. The only people who might have a right to issue such a proclamation are Philip and Alexander IV, and that means me and Roxane.”
“Which is why I’m worried about the lack of the Queen of the Sea,” Trajan said. “The local government’s likely to want, to demand, such a proclamation from you.”
“Phocion won’t.” The captain snorted. Phocion was the Athenian general who had been left in command of Athens when Antipater had imposed his peace. “Neither will the present citizens of Athens.”
“The garrison commander, Xander—that is, Alexander, son of Polyperchon—is not going to be happy to see you. He was appointed with Olympias’ approval and he’s liable to want to arrest you,” Trajan said. “I want you and Philip to stay on the ship until we have a chance to see what the situation is.”
Eurydice looked rebellious, but after a moment nodded. “For now.”
☆ ☆ ☆
Two hours later, the Demetria pulled in to the docks. Trajan, with a squad of Silver Shields, went to see the dock master and announce their presence. Another two squads set up on the docks at either end of the ship, to make sure no one interfered.
Forty minutes later, Trajan returned with a contingent of white-robed Athenians led by an old man in a simple tunic.
“You have brought the Macedonian wars down on us again,” the old man said.
“Phocion?” Eurydice asked.
The old man gave her only a brief, sharp nod in response. Apparently he was even stingy with words.
“The wars are coming whether I bring them or not,” Eurydice said. “They bubble and boil here in Athens all on their own. It’s only the local Macedonian garrison that keeps the lid on.”
“The garrison commander will have to arrest you. Olympias has ordered your execution.”
“Has Polyperchon endorsed that order?” Trajan asked. “The garrison commander is his son and last I heard, he was satrap of Macedonia, not the witch.” Trajan was referring to the fact that Olympias was considered an expert with poisons and magic. The Greek word he used didn’t carry all the negative connotations that “witch” does in English, but it still wasn’t a particularly nice thing to call someone.
“It doesn’t matter what Polyperchon has endorsed. His son Xander will try to arrest you anyway, to give to Olympias or to use as justification for Polyperchon to attempt the regency, and the mob will go crazy.”
Athenian politics had been blown wide open by the arrival of the Queen of the Sea and, especially, by the death of Antipater. Antipater had dissolved Athenian democracy, replacing it with a government of only the wealthy, with Phocion in charge.
The lower classes, who had been citizens of Athens until Antipater’s forced restructuring of the city states’ government, wanted their citizenship back. The upper classes were dithering, arguing that while if it were up to them they would gladly return citizenship to all of Athens’ former citizens, they couldn’t risk it. Macedonia was still there and so was the garrison on the harbor island.
“It’s too soon to try to repeal Antipater’s decrees, but the mob won’t listen to reason.”
“I repealed Antipater,” Eurydice said. “I can repeal his decrees if I determine I should.”
“Any attempt to go back to t
he way things used to be is premature. Do you want Athens going up in flames?” Phocion asked. “You and Philip are potential hostages for both sides.”
“Not a good idea,” Trajan said, and Phocion looked at him.
Phocion had twenty years on Trajan and both had extensive experience in war. Slowly, Phocion nodded. “I agree. But don’t expect the same from Polyperchon’s boy.”
☆ ☆ ☆
Xander, son of Polyperchon, was almost as upset by the arrival of Eurydice and Philip as Phocion was. He didn’t need this. He had a smallish garrison, and the Athenian mob was getting more restive every day. Meanwhile, Antipater was dead and his father’s hold on power was slipping away.
On the other hand, there was an opportunity here. The Silver Shields were a bunch of old men who were living off their reputation. And if he captured Eurydice and turned her over to his father, Polyperchon would be able to make a strong bid for regent of the empire.
He stood for a time on Munychia, looking down the hill at Athens, then turned to his second. “Turn out the garrison. We’re going to fetch the bastard and his strumpet.” He laughed at that. “What use, after all, does an idiot like Philip have for a woman?”
☆ ☆ ☆
Agnonides was listening to the rehearsals of a play to be performed in the forum when someone brought him news that there were Silver Shields on the docks. The play was a new tragedy that wouldn’t have made the grade in that other history, and after listening to half the play Agnonides was not at all convinced that it would survive in this history either.
His first response to the news was panic, fear that his arguments against the Macedonians had brought retribution. But, no. The Shields were mostly with Eumenes, and Eumenes was busy in Asia. “What are Silver Shields doing in Athens?”
“I don’t know. I just got word a bunch of them were on a grain ship.”
“Go find out.”
After the man left, Agnonides turned back to the play, but it held even less interest for him now. Soon enough he stood up. When he did the action stopped and the producer of the play came over to see what was wrong.