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Authors: Jo Graham

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BOOK: Stealing Fire
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And he did love me. I knew that in the eagerness in his brown eyes, in the way he bugled out for me when I first came near, a small shadow of the stallion's bugle he would have soon. He would not be gelded, of course. He would be too valuable at stud. In him, every promise was to be fulfilled, strong and tall and gentle, fast and tractable and brave. Ghost Dancer would serve princes, and no less.

Besides, there was no hurry to sell him, and no stampede to buy. There had been a panic in the spring, when it was rumored that Phillip of Macedon meant to invade Asia, and that there would be a run on warhorses. It was many years since the Greek colonies of Ionia had been independent, since Persia had conquered them, but men like my father still dreamed of that time. Phillip had beaten the last of the cities in Greece who opposed his League, and had sworn a mighty vow to free the cities of Asia from Persia. He was a formidable man, and it seemed for a little while that he might actually bring an army over, but he was assassinated at a festival in his own city, and there would be no invasion. His heir was barely twenty. The satraps of the western provinces breathed a sigh of relief. It would be long years yet before Macedon was again a threat. We set off for the uplands and the circuit of the horse fairs unconcerned with any rumors of war.

I rode Ghost Dancer a week short of his second birthday, with no saddle pad or bridle, only a halter and my knees. I thought that I should make a try of it before Tehwaz did, so that I could show him that it was already done, and there should be no need for harshness. Indeed, there was not. We practiced at night, by the light of the moon, and by the time Tehwaz came round to it a month later, after my thirteenth birthday, we could put on a pretty show. We walked and trotted around the ring, Ghost Dancer with his neck arched in pride, every step perfectly responsive to my signals. Together we went through everything we knew, even stepping over bars that had been placed on the ground, the first thing before learning to jump. At last we finished right before him, Ghost Dancer's ears pricked forward and me with a grin I could not suppress.

Tehwaz nodded as he did when he had found a horse to be unexpectedly sound and worth more than he had paid for it. “You'll make a horseman yet,” he said. “From now on you're exercising.” He bought a new boy to muck out, and I was instead set to exercising the horses and working with them to overcome small faults, like following too closely.

Ghost Dancer, of course, was my joy, but I loved all the other horses too. I thought sometimes that the Spirit of Horse must be pleased with me.

Tehwaz began teaching Ghost Dancer the things a warhorse should know, and I learned too. My master was not as young as he used to be, and scrambling up and down banks or fording icy streams of the uplands repeatedly was not a pleasure to him. Once he had shown us both, I was set to practice with him. We charged at targets and veered off at the last second, jumped over low hurdles, rode at things that flapped or made noise, and learned to wheel at a canter about obstacles. In this way, I learned as well.

“Next year, when he is three, he will fetch enough to make me a rich man!” Tehwaz said. “And then I shall turn the fair circuit over to my nephew and spend my days at home in Miletus!”

He was triumphant, but I felt sick. Ghost Dancer should go to some other home, to a lord who might or might not cherish him, and I should be stuck with Tehwaz's nephew, endlessly pacing the fair circuit. I should be fourteen, and yet it seemed my life should be over without him.

In the spring there was no market. The lords of Miletus were called to service by the Satrap of Sardis, to join the army of the Great King that marched west from Anaya. The new King of Macedon had crossed the straits, and even now celebrated rites on the grave of Achilles at Troy. His name was Alexander, and though very young he was something to reckon with.

While the lords of Miletus marched north, we made the circuit of the early horse fairs, south to Halicarnassos. There we collected a good fee for putting Ghost Dancer to stud for the first time, which pleased Tehwaz immensely. I held out the hope that if the stud fees were high enough and regular enough he should not want to sell him.

While we were there the news came—Alexander had defeated the army of the Great King on the banks of the Granicus River, and now he marched down the coast. Cities opened their gates to him, merchants like my father professing that they had always admired Macedon and they viewed him as a liberator. The Great King's fleet intended to make a stand in the harbor of Miletus, and they had shut the city gates against him. Now Miletus stood besieged.

“Not for anything would I go into that. We'd lose our whole stock,” Tehwaz said. “In fact, best to go into the uplands and let the Great King take care of this.”

Of course it occurred to me to run. With Ghost Dancer I could get a long way. But he was not only very recognizable, but also very valuable, and if I were caught it would be as a thief, not a runaway. I had no desire to chance that.

We were at Emmen in the uplands when the word came that Miletus had surrendered after a brief siege, and that the gates were open and the city returning to normal. The leading citizens had made peace with Alexander, and it seemed that as long as tribute was paid to him rather than the Great King all would be well.

Tehwaz shrugged. “The lords make it go round, and it's the same to us. Still, it's best not to be in the way of an army, especially with a string of horses. We'll cut it short and go straight back to Miletus, where this king has already been.”

And so we did. Tehwaz was right that it seemed little had changed. I gaped at the broken gates as we went in, at the streaks of black soot on some of the walls. The harbor was full of Greek ships instead of the Persian fleet, but the buildings of the town seemed little affected. Miletus had only held against Alexander for six days, and most of the actions had been fought at sea. I wished I had been there. War seemed very exciting to me, and I cursed Tehwaz's caution that had deprived me of the chance to taste it.

There were Macedonians and Greeks here still, though the King and the main body had moved on to Halicarnassos. The wounded were here, and the officers and men of the navy, as well as a couple of very young men who were supposed to organize supply for the army as it moved. They were not despoiling the land, but paying for supplies properly, if at about half the going rate. Still, Tehwaz said, it could have been worse. As yet I had no concept what he might mean.

Tehwaz, of course, had an eye to the main chance. The King of Macedon's army would want remounts before they started off on the long road east, following the Royal Road through the mountains toward Gordion. Remounts are expensive, and good ones hard to find. We had sold more than half of our stock at good prices before the blow fell.

The boy who mucked out came running to me while I was tending to a sore hoof. “The master wants Good Fortune turned out, looking his best, as fast as you can! There's a gentleman here and he's delaying him with wine while you do it!”

With a sinking feeling I laid aside the hoof pick and set about getting Ghost Dancer ready, pad and bridle and a quick brush to his mane. I pressed my nose against him, my arms around his neck, then led him out into the yard.

Tehwaz had just come out, several Macedonian gentlemen with him. They were all young, and all of them wore gleaming harness and swords, a fair show and not at all what I was used to. “Now, sirs,” Tehwaz said, “you will not see a finer three-year-old in all the world! I swear to you he is like my own son!”

Ghost Dancer's ears pricked forward, but he did not shy at the bright light reflecting from their polished steel. He stood patient and alert, solid on all four legs.

“What do you think, Ptolemy?” one of them asked in Greek.

Ptolemy, a nondescript young man with his helmet under his arm, shrugged. “He's a big fellow. But I'm not shopping, remember? I'm just along for the company.”

“Just like at the whorehouse,” another of them jested. “You aren't shopping, just passing through!” The rest laughed.

One paid no attention to the joke. He was tall, with red hair, dark eyes, and a square jaw. He was looking at nothing besides Ghost Dancer. He nodded slowly, approaching where I stood with my hand lightly on his bridle. Ghost Dancer's eyes followed him, and he waited patiently while the man put his hands on him and looked at him. He took the bridle from me and lifted his head, looking at his teeth, which Ghost Dancer bore without protest. “Three years old?”

“Yes, Lord,” I said.

His eyebrows twitched, surprised I spoke Greek, perhaps. “How does he go?”

“Sweetly, Lord,” I said. I was half tempted to tell lies, anything that would make him not buy Ghost Dancer, but I could not. Like it or not, he would be sold, and this Macedonian lord seemed to know horses at least.

“What does he answer to?” he asked me quietly, taking the bridle off and putting it back on to see how he took the bit.

“Ghost Dancer,” I said, and his brows twitched again. I had named him in Greek, not Carian.

“Well, Ghost Dancer,” he said, one hand on his side, “let us see how we will get on. I am Hephaistion son of Amyntor.”

I thought it was a bit strange to introduce oneself to a horse, but I stepped back and let him swing up easily. He was much heavier than I was, and wearing steel as well, but Ghost Dancer did not flinch, only waited patiently for a signal. A squeeze and they stepped out nicely, going round the yard at a walk, turning easily. They looked just alike, I thought, blood-red horse and red-haired man. I watched them walk about the yard, then trot. He put Ghost Dancer into tight circles, and I was glad that we had practiced that, and then sent him flying at a canter around the yard, his hooves drumming on the packed earth. When at last they pulled up, I saw that he was grinning.

“Tehwaz, you have not lied to me! You are a man of truthfulness! It is true that I have not seen a finer three-year-old in the world!”

The one they had called Ptolemy laughed. “You have added talents to the purchase price now! You will not have seen a more expensive three-year-old in the whole world!”

The other men laughed, and Hephaistion swung down, pausing to pet Ghost Dancer affectionately. “I know a prize when I see one, and I'm prepared to pay what he's worth.”

“Then come and let us discuss it over watered wine,” Tehwaz said, and I could see that he was certain of the best sale of his career. “That horse is like my own son, and he is fit indeed for Hipparch and Companion. Jio, cool him down and tend to him.”

“Yes, sir,” I said, and took Ghost Dancer's rein. I felt sick. I knew he would buy him, this tall young soldier. I knew it. Of course he would. Any man would. And he would not mistreat him, but I should be parted from him forever.

The other men followed them in. “Are you staying another day?” one asked the one they had called Ptolemy.

He shook his head. “No, just Nicanor is staying with Nearchus. The rest of us are back to the King tonight, only Hephaistion had to go see this peerless horse first!” He threw up his hands as though this were some joke of long standing. “So now we will be late on the road and riding through the night, like as not.” They went in, and the door closed behind them.

In that moment, I knew what I would do.

I
T WAS NEARLY
dawn before I caught up with the column. After all, they were mounted and I was not, and they had not stopped to make camp until very late, riding on into the night under the bright moon.

I had slipped out as soon as I thought the household safely abed, Tehwaz snoring softly after drinking a great deal of wine to celebrate the largest sale of his career. Ghost Dancer had brought him nearly enough to buy a galley instead of a horse, enough to retire as he had desired. I thought it more than enough to cover my price as well. If he guessed where I had gone, he would not care enough to chase after, not and risk displeasing the so generous Macedonian lord. Hephaistion son of Amyntor had spent a king's ransom on a horse.

They were not hard to follow. There were few on the Royal Road this late, and no other group of mounted men. I was grateful that they had walked the horses most of the way, but even so the stars were beginning to pale and the morning coming before I caught up with them. I did not realize I had finally come upon them, except that I heard Ghost Dancer's nicker. I was upwind from him, and my scent had come to him on the breeze. As I came over the hill I saw them, the picket lines downwind of the camp among the trees, saw his white blaze as his head went up among the drowsing other horses and he called out to me.

I forced my tired legs to run. I must reach him before he woke the whole camp. A few other heads came up as I passed.

But Ghost Dancer would not be silenced. He had not liked this at all, being away from me, and now it was remedied. He bugled out joyfully his greeting, backing up with his legs braced and tearing up the stake that he was tied to before I even reached his side.

At that they were all in arms in a flash.

One man held a knife to my throat, his arm like steel around me. I knew better than to struggle. Another was shouting, and there was a great deal of shoving back and forth.

At last a man I had seen earlier pushed through, the one they had called Ptolemy. “What's going on here?”

“We caught a horse thief in the picket lines, sir,” a man replied.

“It's a funny horse thief that makes so much noise,” Ptolemy observed.

Hephaistion angled his way between men, a torch in his hand, his hair still tousled from sleep. I did not struggle as the light fell on my face. “Great Lord, please hear me!” I asked in Greek.

His eyebrows rose. “Surely this is Tehwaz's stable boy,” he said.

Behind me, Ghost Dancer was kicking up a fuss. I could hear a groom swearing as he tried to keep hold of him.

“I am, Great Lord,” I said. “I have been with Ghost Dancer since he was foaled, and I have followed to ask you if you will take me on as your stable boy. I swear to you that I will work twice as hard for you as for Tehwaz! I will work all day and all night.”

BOOK: Stealing Fire
2.72Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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