Ben Bova - Orion and the Conqueror

He came to visit me in my cell. One day I heard footsteps coming down the hall, and recognized that there was someone accompanying the shuffle-footed old man who brought me my food. Someone wearing boots. One of the rats happened to be near a crack in the corridor wall and I looked up through its eyes. Pausanias loomed like a moving mountain, shaking the rat’s sensitive whiskers with each booted step.

The guard pulled the door open on its squeaking hinges and Pausanias ducked through the doorway into my cell. He carried a sputtering torch in his right hand. He had left his sword at the guard room, I saw.

“Leave us,” he told the old man. “I’ll call when I’m finished here.”

The old man wordlessly closed the door and shot its bolt home.

“You’ve lost weight,” Pausanias said, looking me over.

I saw his nose wrinkle. “And I must smell pretty bad, too,” I said.

“That can’t be helped.”

“Why am I here?” I asked. “Why haven’t I been allowed to see the king? Or to have a trial, at least.”

“It will be over soon,” he said. His face was grim, his eyes evasive.

“What do you mean?”

“After the wedding we can let you go.”

“The wedding?”

Pausanias’ lips turned down into a frown. “The king is giving his daughter to his brother-in-law.”

“His daughter Kleopatra? Olympias’ daughter?”

“She is to marry Alexandros, King of Epeiros.”

“Olympias’ brother?” I felt shocked.

He nodded sourly. “It smacks of incest, doesn’t it? Marrying off his fourteen-year-old daughter to her own uncle.”

“I thought that Olympias was living in Epeiros with her brother.”

“She was. She has been returned to Pella.”

Philip’s statecraft, I realized. He was binding the king of Epeiros to Macedonia by marrying his daughter to him. Alexandros of Epeiros would no longer side with Olympias in their marital squabbles because he was marrying a Macedonian princess. Olympias no longer had a brother to take her side, to give her shelter, to possibly go to war against Philip for her sake.

“The One-Eyed Fox has outsmarted her,” I muttered.

“Has he?” Pausanias made a bitter smile. “We’ll see.”

“And what of our Alexandros, the Little King? How is he reacting to all this?”

“He ran off to Epeiros with his mother when Philip married Eurydice. But the king called him back to Pella and he came, obedient to Philip’s command.”

“He’s chosen his father over his mother’s wishes,” I said.

“Don’t jump to conclusions, Orion,” said Pausanias. “Alexandros will be king one day. That’s why he returned to Pella, to reinforce his claim to the throne. You know that Eurydice has born Philip a son.”

“I heard.”

“The babe will never become king of Macedonia. Alexandros is determined to succeed his father, no matter what.”

I nodded my agreement. Then I asked again, “But what has this to do with me? Why am I being kept locked in this cell?”

“You deserted your duty,” Pausanias answered crisply. “You ran away from the Persian capital and disappeared into the desert. Do you deny that?”

“No,” I admitted.

“Deserters are usually hanged, Orion. I’m allowing you to live. You’ll even have your freedom, once the wedding is over.”

“What’s the wedding got to do with it?”

He looked away from me again, as if there was something in his eyes that he did not want me to see.

“What’s the wedding got to do with it?” I repeated.

“You’re loyal to Philip,” he muttered. “It’s best that you’re kept out of the way until it’s finished.”

I stared at him for a long, wordless moment. Kept out of the way , my mind echoed. Until it’s finished.

I grabbed Pausanias by the shoulders and stared into his eyes. “You’re going to assassinate the king!”

He did not deny it.

“Olympias has swayed you. The witch has you in her spell.”

Pausanias laughed bitterly. “Jealous, Orion? She’s thrown you aside for me. Does that bother you?”

“It frightens me. I’m frightened for your sake. And for Philip’s.”

“Philip.” He spat the word. “That man deserves to die a dozen times over.”

“You loved him once.”

“Yes, and look what he did to me! He knew what Attalos had done to me and he did nothing about it. Nothing! I went to him for justice and he ignored me.”

“He made you captain of his personal guard,” I said. “That is high honor.”

“Honor my ass! He didn’t punish Attalos. After what that stinking hyena did to me he didn’t lift a finger to punish him. Not even a harsh word.”

“The king must avoid blood feuds.”

But Pausanias did not want to hear reasonable words. “He threw a sop at me and let Attalos get away without a word. Then he marries the bastard’s niece and makes a new princeling with her. And all the while he’s laughing at me; him and Attalos, laughing at me every night, every time they see each other—”

His chest was heaving, his eyes wild with rage. His hands shook so badly that I feared he would drop the torch he was carrying and set my pallet afire. I knew he was speaking Olympias’ words now. She was filling his ears with poison even deadlier than the venom her snakes carried.

Pausanias slowly pulled himself together. “None of this is your affair, Orion. You’re not a Macedonian; perhaps you should be glad that you’re not. You are an honest man and you feel loyal to the king, so I’m keeping you locked safely here until it’s all over. Then you will be freed and you can go your own way.”

“Don’t do it,” I urged. “Don’t let her destroy you.”

His twisted, bitter smile returned. “I was destroyed a long time ago, Orion. I have nothing to lose.”

Weakened though I was by long days of imprisonment, I knew that I could overpower Pausanias. Perhaps I could force him to call for the guard to open my cell door. Perhaps I could overcome the other guards loitering in their chamber down the corridor. Perhaps I could reach the king and warn him.

Too many perhapses. There was no way I could protect Philip if I were cut down by the palace guard before I could reach his side.

Pausanias called for the jailer to open the door. I was tempted to try to force my way to freedom, but then I heard the tramp of a half-dozen men accompanying the old man. They were taking no chances.

I had learned to mark the passage of time through the rats. They were mostly nocturnal animals, although how they told the difference between night and day in the windowless cellar of the castle was beyond me. Still, when I peeked in at the guard chamber through their eyes, I could tell it was nighttime when the men there crawled into their bunks and slept. There were always at least six guards on duty, although they had little to do, even during the day.

I had no idea of when the royal wedding was to take place; only that it would happen soon. By listening to the guards’ conversations I learned that it would not be at Pella, but at the ancient capita up in the mountains, Aigai. Apparently Philip was to depart for the old citadel within a day or so.

I needed more information. And help. Tentatively, I tried to control a few of my rat pack. Not merely use their senses as extensions of my own, but actively control them, make them do my bidding. I needed to find Harkan. Of all the soldiers and guards in Pella, only Harkan and Batu could I trust to help me.

I sent my rats ranging through the palace and barracks. It was dangerous for them; other packs attacked strangers in their territory. But I sent one “scout” after another scurrying along the warren of tunnels and hollows that honeycombed the palace. At last I found Harkan and Batu, still quartered together in the main barracks that adjoined the palace proper.