David Gemmell - Dark Prince

Attalus found him there in the early evening. The swordsman was dressed in a long grey chiton , his white hair held in place by a black leather band edged with silver.

'A productive day?' asked Attalus.

The Spartan shrugged. 'Perhaps. I wish Philip were here: many of the cities would receive us now with cheers and welcome banquets. If we leave it much longer, their backbones will start to melt. They will hear of the Great King's preparations for war and will bar their gates against us.'

'You are still in that dark mood, I see,' said Attalus. 'It comes from drinking that Persian goat's-piss. Good Greek wine is what you need,' he added, filling a golden wine-cup and draining half the contents at a single swallow.

'I am no longer in a dark mood,' said Parmenion slowly, 'but our spies report that the Great King is building an army the like of which has not been seen since Xerxes invaded Greece. Messengers are travelling all over the empire -

Cappadocia, Pisidia, Syria, Pontica, Egypt, Mesopotamia. . Can you imagine how many men will come against us?'

'We will defeat them,' said Attalus, settling down and stretching out his legs.

'Just like that?'

'Of course, strategos . You will think of a great plan for victory and we will all sleep soundly in our beds.'

Parmenion chuckled. 'You should have started drinking years ago. It agrees with you.'

'It is never too late to learn. However, I am in agreement with you. I can't wait to see Philip; it has been too long. The last I heard was six months ago when Cleopatra was waiting to give birth to her son and the King was planning the celebrations. It will be good to see him.'

Attalus laughed. 'There was a time, Spartan, when I wished you dead. Now I find you good company. Perhaps I'm getting old.'

Before Parmenion could reply, a servant announced the arrival of the messengers from Pella. Parmenion rose and walked out to the centre of the room to meet them.

The first to enter was Hephaistion, followed by Cassander and the cavalry general, Cleitus. Hephaistion bowed, but his face was set and tension showed in his eyes.

'A difficult journey?' ventured Parmenion.

'We have letters from the King,' answered Hephaistion stiffly, approaching Parmenion. Cassander and Cleitus advanced towards Attalus. Cleitus held a tightly rolled scroll of papyrus which he offered to the swordsman.

Parmenion had received such messages on hundreds of occasions. Yet there was a terrible tension in the air and the Spartan's senses were aroused. His gaze flickered to Cleitus; the cavalryman was proffering a sealed scroll to Attalus, but his right hand was inching towards the dagger at his hip. Cassander also was moving to Attalus' left, his right hand hidden beneath his cloak. In that one awful moment, Parmenion knew what was to come.

'Attalus!' he cried. Hephaistion leapt upon the Spartan, pinning his arms, and although Parmenion struggled the younger man was too strong. The two officers drew their swords and rushed at Attalus. The old man stood stock-still, too shocked to move. An iron blade clove into his belly and he cried out. A second sword slashed into his neck, opening a terrible wound. Attalus' knees buckled. Swords and knives slashed into his body even as he fell, and he was dead before he struck the floor.

Hephaistion loosened his grip on Parmenion who staggered back, his hand trembling as he drew his sword.

'Come then, you traitors!' he yelled. 'Finish your work!'

'It is finished, sir,' said Hephaistion, his face grey under the tan. 'That is what the King ordered.'

'I do not believe it! You have just killed Philip's best friend.'

'I know, sir. But Philip is dead.'

The words struck Parmenion like poisoned arrows and he reeled back. 'Dead? DEAD?'

'He was murdered as he entered the amphitheatre where he was to celebrate the birth of his son. The killer was hiding in the shadows and he stabbed Philip through the heart.'

'Who? Who did it?'

'Pausanius,' answered Hephaistion. 'He nursed his hatred, though he masked it well, but he never forgave Philip for refusing him justice against Attalus.'

'But why was the King not guarded?'

'He ordered the Royal Guard to walk some thirty paces behind him, saying he did not wish to be seen as a tyrant who needed protection in his own realm. He died instantly.'

'Sweet Hera! I cannot believe it! Not sorcery, not assassins, not armies could stop Philip. And you tell me he was cut down by a spurned lover?'

'Yes, sir. Alexander is King now. He will be here as soon as the troubles in Greece are put behind him. But he ordered us to kill Attalus as soon as we arrived.'

Parmenion gazed down at the dead man, then dropped his sword and moved to a couch, slumping down with his head in his hands. 'What is happening in Macedonia?' he managed to ask.

Hephaistion sat beside him. 'There was almost civil war, but Alexander moved swiftly to eliminate his enemies.

Amyntas was slain, as was Cleopatra and her new child, followed by some thirty nobles.'

'He began his reign by murdering a baby? I see.' Parmenion straightened, his eyes cold, his face a mask. He stood, gathered his sword and slammed it back into its sheath. 'See that the body is removed and the blood cleaned from the carpets. Then get out of my house!'

Hephaistion reddened. 'Alexander asked me to take Attalus' place. I had thought to use his rooms.'

Then you thought wrong, boy!' said Parmenion. 'There was a time when I believed you had the seeds of greatness within you, but now I see you for what you are: a murderer for hire. You will go far, but you will not share my company — nor my friendship. Do we understand one another?'

'We do,' replied Hephaistion, tight-lipped.

'Good.' The Spartan swung towards the others, his gaze raking over them; then he glanced down at the body on the floor. 'He was a man,' said Parmenion. 'He had many dark sides to his nature, but he stood by his King loyally. Many years ago he risked his life to save Alexander. Well, you brought him his reward. Tomorrow we will have a funeral for him, with all honours. Do I hear an objection?'

'I have. .' Cassander began.

'Shut your mouth!' roared Parmenion.

'We obeyed the orders of our King,' said Cleitus, his face red and his eyes angry.

'As did he,' Parmenion retorted, pointing to the corpse. 'Let us hope you do not enjoy the same benefits!'

Without another word Parmenion strode from the room. Several servants were standing grouped in the corridor outside. 'Do not be alarmed,' he told them. 'The killing is over. Remove the body and prepare it for burial.'

A young girl stepped forward, her head bowed. 'There is a man, lord; he came some while ago. He said he is a friend to you and that you would want to see him in private.'

'Did he give a name?'

'He said he was Mothac. He is an old man and I took him to your rooms. Did I do right?'

'You did. But tell no one he is here.'

Mothac sat quietly in the soft glow of the lamplight, his eyes staring at nothing, unfocused, his gaze turned inward.

His emotions were exhausted now, and even the memory of the flames and the ruins could not stir fresh sadness within him.

What are you doing here? he asked himself. The answer was swift in coming: Where else could I go?

The old Theban heard footsteps in the corridor and rose from the couch, his mouth dry.

Parmenion entered but said nothing. The Spartan simply rilled two goblets with watered wine and passed one to Mothac. The Theban drank it swiftly. 'Everything is destroyed,' he said, slumping back to his seat.

Parmenion sat beside him. 'Tell me.'

'Thebes is in ruins: every house, every hall, every statue. There is nothing left.'

Parmenion sat silently, his face expressionless. 'We rose against the invader,' continued Mothac, 'but we could not retake the Cadmea. The Macedonians closed the inner gates against us. Yet we had them trapped there, at the centre of the city, and for a while we thought we would be free. But Athens refused to acknowledge us and we could get no aid from the other cities. Even Sparta refused to send soldiers. Then Alexander came, with an army. We realized we could not fight him and offered peace, but his soldiers stormed the city. The killing was terrible to see — men, women, children, cut down — for there was nowhere to run. Thousands died; the rest were taken into captivity to be sold as slaves. Alexander himself ordered the razing of the city, and the siege-engineers moved in. Every statue, every column was toppled and smashed to dust. There is no Thebes now… it is all gone.'