Penelope's Secrets

Chapter 4
Horses at Dawn

Scythia...

A veranda which overlooks a line of stables, half of which appear empty. Although it's not long after dawn, and the air still has a chill bite, Prometheus is sitting outside with his administrator Callisto at a rustic style wooden table having a light breakfast of bread with cold meat, peppers, brandy and coffee. From here they can see the early morning preparation of the grooms feeding and watering the horses. Normally, Prometheus would go down to stables to join in. This morning, however, his best horses are not here, but are stabled a few miles distant in the city at the arena stables. Today there will be racing. However, he is expecting an important visitor, and is planning the possible outcomes with some relish.

"So how much do you think he will offer?" asks Callisto, knowing the best way to humour his master's mood, at the current time is by savouring the prospect of this long anticipated triumph.

Prometheus chuckles, relishing the calculations he has gone over so many times before.

"Cato previously offered me 9,000 credits which I of course turned down. Because that was before I had decided to sell. He's been on the hook for a while now, so I would take that figure as a starting point. My guess is at least 10,000 maybe up to 12,000. Particularly if we effected the sale this morning, because then Beucephelos could run in the race in Cato's colours. Concluding the sale before the race starts adds time pressure and may help to push up the price."

"And we do need the money..." suggests Callisto.

Suddenly Prometheus's good humour vanishes. His countenance darkens. "I don't need to be reminded about that."

"The Etruscans reiterated their demand yesterday by messenger. Their ambassador will be at the games today, and will be expecting to collect payment. You can hardly avoid the races as you have so many horses running, and I don't think we can put them off much longer."

"I know that dammit. I'm planning to be there. With the money we get from Cato we can pay off the Etruscans and still have a couple of thousand credits left. We may also get some prize money."

"We can't collect the winnings from Beucephelos if we've already sold him" Callisto points out. "But we might get a thousand credits or so from the chariots and maybe one of our other horses will come in a second in the main race."

"I doubt it. Cato has got two good horses in there already. If he runs Beaut as well he'll get the first three places for sure."

"Isn't that going to be bad for business?"

"No. It'll show what an honest horse trainer I am, in that I'm prepared to sell my best stock. We'll let Cato have his moment of glory, and then next month we'll bring out our little surprise - Mercury. He's never been raced in public, but I think that he and Beucephelos are about evenly matched. If they ever ran in the same contest they would probably push themselves until their hearts burst. They're not the kind of horses that like to run behind others."

"So you're reasonably sure we can pay the Etruscans?"

"Why do you keep harping back to that? You know the only way we can raise that money so quickly will be from the sale. It's a damn nuisance those horses we shipped to Etruria died in transit. They must have picked up some sort of disease from the hold because they were in perfect health when they left here."

"It's difficult to tell how animals will react to being in space-ship."

"It can't be helped. It was a very good deal for our second best string of breeders. We spent the advance payment, along with the rest of our cash reserves on improvements to the ranch last year. It's unfortunate we didn't take out any insurance. But it was a calculated risk. Anyway, how do you insure against something like that?"

He sees a dust cloud on the road from the city.

"That will be Cato. Only he would be riding out this way on the morning of the games." He turns to the servant behind him. "More wine. Bring enough wine and food for the number of horsemen you see coming."

Callisto shielding his eyes with his hands asks "How many do you think?"

"Normally he comes by himself, or with just one companion, but don't forget, he'll be carrying a considerable sum of money, so I'd expect him to bring a strongly armed escort. Yes, I can see about six or seven horses."

"Not much of an escort for that amount of money surely?" comments Callisto.

"Not if they were ours, armed only with swords and daggers. But don't forget that Cato has the privilege of having an escort armed with energy weapons. Not that he normally flaunts it. You've got to give that much credit to our leading family. They have the power, and everyone knows it. The Lady Penelope judges that a constant show of force is more irritating than a subtle reminder now and again. Speaking of which. Have you got any idea what the rocket plane was about last night? Lucky it was night and the horses were in the stables. It would have spooked them if they were out."

"My spies suggest that there might have been a hunting accident and that the rocket ship was connected with bringing back Hector in some kind of an emergency."

"I have to admit that I'd rather deal with Cato than Hector any day. At least we have some influence with Cato, and he's approachable. Hector is too much like his mother. Well let's hope that a dragon has finally found out what Hector tastes like. He's led too much of a charmed life up to now."

The approaching party can now be heard, and as they clatter into the yard, some of the stable grooms come out to offer their services. Cato has come out with an escort of six riders who are heavily armed and are grouped in a defensive formation, with eyes watching all directions.

Prometheus walks from the veranda up to the group of horses, and when Cato sees him, he dismounts and walks to shake his hand. Half of the escort remain mounted, while the other half dismount. But there is a visible lessening of tension now that the two protagonists have met.

"I've ordered some breakfast and wine for your men." Said Prometheus. As he speaks a servant comes to offer Cato a goblet of water mixed with wine.

Cato swallows the contents of the goblet immediately, without waiting for it to be tasted. Prometheus appreciates this gesture of confidence and grunts in amusement. He's hardly likely to poison his best customer. Especially in public. Cato has often ridden out to this ranch before on his own. All Penelope's offspring demand the freedom of being in public, and seem to believe that they are invulnerable. So far this has been true. The fact that their father was killed by an assassin in a public enough place seems to have inspired no caution in any of them. Prometheus leads Cato to the veranda. He knows that Cato feels attracted by the rough simplicity of the ranch style of life, as opposed to the political sophistication and intrigues of the palace life he gets at home. If Cato does ever take over power from his mother, Prometheus knows that he himself will become one of the richest people on Scythia because of the access that he can give to the prince. However, his current concerns are more short term.

"This is the best time of the day for a ride" says Cato as he sits down.

"You've met Callisto, my administrator before" Prometheus waves in the general direction of his main advisor.

"A few times. I seem to recall that each time we meet. I become somewhat the poorer."

"Only in money." Retorts Prometheus. "I could also claim, that each time, I too become poorer. Because you take my best horses."

Cato laughs in agreement "Only if you let me. My last few buying missions have been less than successful."

"As I said yesterday, Beucephelos can now be yours, if we can agree the price."

"That's why I'm here, because we did agree on the principle. But I believe that a price was not mentioned."

Now we're getting down to business, thinks Prometheus.

"Did you have something in mind?"

"Prometheus, as you know, I'm not a trader. I buy horses because I like them. I like buying your horses because they are the best. I can't keep these things from you. I've got to be honest and say that yesterday when I agreed to come here, I had a very definite kind of price in mind. But now, I'm not so sure."

Prometheus thinks that someone has been instructing Cato in the art of haggling. This is a disturbing development, but as a life-long trader he knows, that people only haggle about the price when they are planning to buy something. If you're not interested in something you don't care how much it costs. He knows that Cato has come out here almost once a week just to keep his eye on Beucephelos as if he were already his own horse.

Prometheus makes a helpful suggestion to lead the discussion in the right direction.

"The first thing we should decide is the timing. Then we can settle the price. It revolves around the question is the winner of today's big race going to be wearing my colours or yours?"

"If you'd asked me that yesterday, I would've said mine, without a doubt. And that could still be true. But there were certain developments last night that indirectly affect how much I can afford to pay you. To put it frankly, some of the money that I was going to offer you for Beucephelos, may end up having to be committed in another direction."

"How much are we talking about?"

"Until things become a little clearer, I want to hang on to at least half of what I was going to offer, because an opportunity has come up for some lucrative investments, and I want to keep money ready to invest just in case."

"What kind of investment are we talking about?"

"The kind that makes a rocket-plane land in the palace gardens in the middle of the night."

"Ah. Yes I wondered about the disturbance last night. I heard it was something to do with a hunting accident. I hope your brother is quite well."

"I don't know about that. There are always accidents when one is hunting dragons but my brother looked healthy enough when I saw him last this morning. If any bits of him are missing they don't show when he's fully dressed."

Prometheus realizes that he has revealed more about his spy network than he should have. Cato, has also picked this up. But for Cato, having the upper hand in a negotiation about buying horses is a rare and heady experience which he is starting to savour.

"Prometheus, over the years you've given me lots of good advice and hospitality. As you know, I enjoy coming here, and I've always felt welcome. I'd like to think that there's more to our relationship than just a simple business relationship. Certainly I've got no head for business..."

At this, Prometheus realizes that he is expected to smile indulgently. He does so, but he is mystified by the tone that the conversation is taking. He hopes that Callisto is taking this all in. They will have to analyse it later. Cato is coming up with some unexpected surprises. He realizes suddenly that he has missed the last few minutes of what Cato has been saying.

"...It's difficult to know exactly what effect this will all have. But I'm sure you'll see now why I have to hold back a little until it all becomes clearer. And it's quite possible that you might see some advantages for yourself. Especially as you're probably the first person outside our family to be officially informed."

It is not at all clear to Prometheus, and with an internal terror that he tries not to show, while he smiles ingratiatingly at Cato, and cursing himself for the over-confidence which has led him into this predicament he turns to Callisto for guidance.

"Like you Cato, when it comes to horses I let my instincts lead, but on other matters, I rely on Callisto to advise me. What's your view on this then?"

He signals with his eyebrows. Whereupon Callisto, whose interest in horses was never innate pleasure, but always a learned instinct taken on in the cloak of a natural interest, and driven by his assiduous desire to anticipate and serve the needs of his powerful protector, now realizes this is an opportunity to demonstrate his irreplaceable value and responds.

"I imagine that all kinds of serious business will be suspended until people have taken in the likely consequences of these developments. This isn't the kind of thing that happens every week. It's been most generous of prince Cato to favour us with this news in such a privileged fashion and I hope that when all these things have been settled, as no doubt they soon will be, we can return to the more humdrum events in life and return to the negotiations for Beucephelos, who we all hope is going to be the winner of today's big race."

Cato laughs, "When this alien ambassador business is all over, I may end up regretting this delay in the purchase. Once Beaut has been publicly proved to be a champion he may cost me more. But hopefully, the rewards from the trade links with the alien will mean I can afford to pay you more. So we'll both end up being better off."

Prometheus nods, and Cato finishes his drink and rises.

"I must be off now. I've got my own entries in the race to think about. But I said I would see you before the race, so that's why I came. Obviously you've got to consider your own position and I don't expect any quick answers. You'll probably want to think about some of the opportunities for yourself. I don't know if these aliens race horses, but Helen will be bringing him to the games later today, so I'm sure he'll get a chance to get the taste for it while he's here. You never know, he may want to take some back on his ship as a speculative kind of thing. Still, I'll see you later."

Without more ado, he strides off the veranda which draws the scattered part of the escort together in a rush for their mounts. In a very short time they are just a speck of dust heading towards the city. Satisfied that he cannot be overheard, Prometheus breathes in deep lung-fulls of air as if he has suddenly come back to life.

"Now that he's gone. Please tell me exactly what all that was about, and what the hell I'm supposed to tell the Etruscan ambassador this afternoon."

Callisto summarises their current predicament in the light of Cato's revelations about the alien ambassador. The augury is not favourable.

"This is very bad news indeed. On the one hand, if I go back to Cato today and tell him I accept the reduced offer which he now says is all he can afford, it still won't be enough to pay the Etruscans. On the other hand if I don't pay the Etruscans today my reputation and everything I've built up will shortly disappear. Then again, even if the Etruscan ambassador agrees to a part payment now, it will be very difficult to re-impose the pricing levels we've established in the market. It's taken years of work and painful negotiations to get where we are now. Then one night, a rocket-plane lands in the palace garden and poof! Suddenly my most valuable possessions are only worth half of what they were the day before. I don't like it. There must be something else we can do. If you've got any suggestions make them. How do I get rid of this problem?"

Callisto already knows an answer, but it requires a certain amount of desperation to see it through.

"From what I can see, everything is tied up with this alien ambassador. Whether he's a diversion created by Penelope for something else or not, the effect on us is going to be very real either way."

Prometheus nods, he hadn't thought about the possibility of a diversion. But Callisto is right, the effect on him would be the same.

"At the moment we have an opportunity, because we've got this news first hand from Cato. Most other people will only pick it up by rumour, and with the games going on today, there won't be much interest in anything else. We need to find some way of turning this to our advantage, but knowing about the alien isn't going to be enough. We need to talk to him and get his confidence before everyone else."

"Isn't that going to be rather difficult. I somehow don't think that Penelope is going to let him wander about the streets until she has her own interests tied up."

"But you agree that, in principle we could benefit."

"Yes, in theory we could benefit. If we had some money to invest in trade.. which we don't... and if we wanted to get involved with another off-world export of horses, which we don't, because we haven't recovered from the last one yet. So unless you've got a pot of gold buried somewhere that you haven't told me about, I don't see us getting involved in any investments that involve buying anything. In fact I'm rather worried that we may have to start selling some of our most precious possessions in a bad market. But I'm sure this must be leading somewhere, and hopefully quickly."

"OK This is what I've got in mind. First of all, we must improve our relations with the Etruscan ambassador. I suggest a message warning him in general about the news of the alien before he hears it from anyone else. This morning in fact. The Etruscans are traders. This will affect trade. They may be able to do something we can't. It puts him in your debt."

"Not to the tune of 10,000 credits it doesn't."

"Not by itself. We will need to talk to the alien very quickly, before he settles anything with Penelope. If we can let him know that there may be other interests, for example, that could work with him to his mutual benefit..."

"Such as?"

"I'm sure that the Etruscans would be most interested. Especially if we could arrange early access."

"You know that's impossible. Even if the alien isn't genuine, they'll keep him locked up at the palace. We can't go there without being invited."

"But remember what Cato said? He's coming to the games, with Helen."

"We can hardly invite ourselves into the royal box and start discussing trade terms in the presence of Penelope's daughter and half the city can we?"

"No, but after the games there may be an opportunity. There are always unruly elements after a day of festivities. He'll be walking the streets. Something could happen to him."

Prometheus's eyes narrow.

"You mean kill him?"

"No. That wouldn't do any good. What I have in mind is to abduct him for a while."

"You mean kidnap him? How is kidnapping someone in the royal protection going to help my current set of problems?"

"If we simply kidnap him it wouldn't. But just suppose that on the way back to the palace after the games, he is set upon by some drunken elements who don't know who he is. Suppose also that by chance, some of our men happen to be passing and rescue him from his attackers. Naturally the thing to do would be to take him to a place of safety until the palace could be advised where he was. But that could take hours especially at night when they are not keen to open the palace gates. It could take even longer if we sent an incompetent messenger with a garbled message to the wrong gate. There's no way that any blame could attach to us if we were merely looking after him until the proper authorities took notice. In the meantime he could be quite grateful to whoever happened to be his benefactor."

Callisto pauses to see if he has been followed so far.

"Go on."

"By chance, we could arrange that very near to where the skirmish has taken place, but in some private rooms above an inn, you and the Etruscan ambassador will be discussing horse business. Naturally our men, who have not long escorted you to the meeting with the Etruscan, take the alien back to this same inn. Where by chance you meet. With a bit of care we can arrange some other local diversions to distract the local patrols, and cover up any tracks to the inn. Then, for a couple of hours, he's all yours. Shaken up, grateful for being rescued, and likely to be quite open to the first friendly face that comes along."

"What about the princess Helen. We can't get her involved with anything like this. It would be treason."

"Princess Helen may be taking him to the games, but if I know the princess she'll have found a few other interests while she's there. She always likes to have first pick of the winners. She'll probably have other interests by the end of the day."

"But he's bound to have an escort?"

"Certainly, but not a royal escort. Cato will be in the stables or with his head in his cups depending on how the races have turned out. It's difficult to predict Hector, but like his mother, he's never been a great fan of the games. He prefers to get his excitement first hand, rather than watching other people play at sport. The alien is bound to have an escort, but it won't be large. Even the princess rarely has more than one on a public occasion. Anyway, I'm sure we can plan things in such a way that the small escort can be distracted, during the incident."

"It would be safer to kill them."

"Agreed. Then our men, can appear on the scene and kill their attackers in turn."

"It will have to look natural. No-one must know. You'll have to lead them. But we'll need an excuse."

"OK. Here's a better one. I am just on my way to your meeting with the Etruscan ambassador, with the 10,000 credits for the repayment. That's why I have such a large armed escort."

"Perfect. But will the ambassador come? Is it worth his while?"

"I'm sure he will think so, if he gets the right kind of message. With your permission, I'd like to be that messenger. I'll have to go pretty soon. That will give me some time to get things organized for the incident once I'm in the city, and the fact it's me, and not just any old runner will show the ambassador you're serious."

As Prometheus ponders the merits of this hastily concocted gamble he concludes that he has very little to lose and everything to gain.

"It's a good plan. Use whatever resources you need. Every now and again Callisto you manage to surprise me by revealing a creative side which I wouldn't expect to find in a scribe who has his head always buried in figures."

As he raises his goblet he continues

"Let's drink a toast to the success of our little kidnapping adventure."

Callisto's goblet is raised in response. "I would say it's more a kind of borrowing than a kidnap. After all, we do plan to return him, although not until after we've had a chance to make a good impression."

"I don't know what I would do without you Callisto. I often consider what a fortunate twist of fate it was that made me notice that lanky youth in the slave pit all those years ago."

Callisto is genuinely pleased by this compliment. But he thinks, rather than says aloud 'Sometimes fate's twists need a helping hand to turn the screw on this rack we call life.'