My story begins, as it so often has, with the spring trading fleets coming in from Sicily. By the spring of the year after Plataea, I owned four warships, all laid up in my own boat-sheds just over the mountain from Plataea, and six round ships, varying in size from a small tub that could just carry a few hundred big amphorae of wine or olive oil, to the new ‘Poseidon,’ a slab-sided monster that could carry almost six thousand methimnoi of grain.
Flight Of The Raven
Prologue Here we are again, friends! I promised you a hunt, and Thrake is the place to hunt. The game is better here than it ever was in my boyhood on Kitheron, or in the hills of Attika. By Hera, there are still lions and bears here, and we’ll not be clubbing rabbits for our meals! […]