Read Tyrant: Destroyer of Cities for Free Online Page B

lord?’ he asked, as the roast duck was served and the tuna steaks were removed.
    Satyrus had hoped to avoid serious talk, and he saw his precious artillery slipping away. All the frames would be installed before he even got to the wharf.
    Satyrus shrugged with well-feigned nonchalance. ‘Wherever we get the best price,’ he replied. ‘A matter for merchants,’ he said, hoping to chill the topic.
    ‘My lord would prefer if your grain bypassed Rhodes. And Alexandria.’ Niocles drank some wine. ‘Your cook is to be praised. The tuna was better than anything I had in Athens.’
    ‘You were in Athens, with Demetrios?’ Satyrus asked. Theron grinned and turned his head.
    Niocles looked around. ‘Yes – yes, I was. It is not widely known yet that my lord has taken Athens.’
    ‘Perhaps not known by those who lack the proper conduits of information,’ Satyrus said with a smile. ‘So: you have Athens. And Athens needs grain.’ He nodded. ‘Take it up with my merchants,’ he said firmly.
    ‘Athens needs grain. As do many other cities.’ Niocles nodded. ‘I’m sure that your merchants would find it worth their while to turn west when they pass the Dardanelles.’
    Satyrus shook his head. ‘My ships go where they will,’ he said. ‘Most of our cargoes go on foreign hulls anyway. Athens, for instance, buys most of Olbia’s grain.’ His voice carried the clear message – this subject is closed .
    ‘But you have grain of your own, lord. You are dissembling, but there are fifteen ships in the mole, all loading grain from your warehouses.’ Niocles leaned back, sure he’d scored a point.
    ‘You sound more like a spy than an ambassador,’ Satyrus said. He was bored, annoyed that he was missing the installation of his artillery and even more annoyed that Antigonus’ ambassador continued to make all these demands. ‘I declare your embassage over. This instant. Begone.’ Satyrus rolled off his couch. Helios stepped to his side and handed him his sword, and he put it on over his head, donned his chlamys of royal purple and turned back. ‘If he’s not on his ship in an hour, kill him,’ Satyrus said to Hama. Hama nodded.
    ‘You’re insane!’ Niocles said. ‘Lord, I meant no – that is – ambassadors!’
    Whatever he was going to say was lost as Satyrus walked in through the doors of his private apartments.
    He changed into a plain natural wool chiton and a fine dark red chlamys with plain silver pins and a hat to hide his face. He put on boots.
    Theron came in as he got the left boot laced.
    ‘That was a little precipitate,’ Theron said.
    ‘Was it really?’ Satyrus asked. ‘He’s a fool. And he doesn’t seem to care whether he offends me or not.’
    Theron nodded. ‘Well, you have a point. And I suppose it can’t hurt. After yesterday. As you said this morning, either you are mad, or very strong, and either way it should give his master some hesitation.’ Theron had been Satyrus’ athletic coach and tutor. He had special rights in terms of criticism. ‘Besides,’ he said, ‘now you have a free hour to look at your ships.’
    Satyrus laughed. ‘Am I so transparent?’ he asked.
    The sun pounded down on the wharf, and on the naked backs of the work party that was installing the artillery aboard Satyrus’ new-built flagship. Arete was going to be the most powerful ship in the Euxine – a Rhodian-built penteres with a hemiolas deck.
    Satyrus walked down the wharf with Helios at his back, doing his best to be a private gentleman and not the king, but sailors and oarsmen stopped whatever they were doing to smile, wave, bow, or simply stare.
    ‘She’s huge!’ Helios said.
    Satyrus knew there were bigger ships on the seas, but Arete towered over the rest of his small fleet – taller and broader than his triremes and slightly longer as well, like a warhorse in a stable of racehorses.
    ‘Permission to come aboard?’ Satyrus called up the companionway.
    The marine on duty nodded.
    Neiron,