David Gemmell - Dark Prince

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The Lion of Macedon - strategos, Parmenion. A lone hero in search of salvation and finding, instead, destiny. The Dark Prince - the child who will become Alexander, creator of the greatest empire the world has ever known. He will conquer all. All except the Chaos Spirit, the immortal evil that dwells in his soul. Together they will be forced into other dimensions, across time, into enchanted worlds full of wonder and sorcery...

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'Not Asia,' said Mothac. 'And Parmenion maintains the Chalcidice is safe for the time being. Therefore it is Thrace.'

'What does he want?' hissed Parzalamis. 'How much territory can any one man hold?'

'An interesting question from a servant of the Great King.'

'The Great King is divinely blessed. He is not to be confused with a barbarian warrior. Thrace, you say? Very well, I will bear that intelligence to Susa.' Parzalamis leaned back, staring at the low ceiling. 'Now tell me of the King's son.'

The question was asked in a tone altogether too relaxed and Mothac let it hang in the air for a moment.

'He is said to be a brilliant child,' the Theban answered. 'When barely four he could read and write, and even debate with his elders.'

'Yet he is possessed,' said Parzalamis. Mothac could feel the tension in the man's voice.

'You see a four-year-old child as a threat?'

'Yes — not of course to Persia, which is beyond fear, but to the stability of Greece. You lived for many years in Persia and no doubt came to understand the true religion. There is Light which, as Zoroaster informed us, is the root of all life, and there is Darkness, in which nothing grows. Our wise men say that this Alexander is a child of Darkness.

You have heard this?'

'Yes,' agreed Mothac, shifting uncomfortably under the Persian's gaze. 'Some talk of him being a demon. Parmenion does not believe it.'

'And you?'

'I have seen the child only once but, yes, I could believe it. I touched his shoulder when he came too close to a stallion. The touch burned me. I could feel it for weeks.'

'He must not live,' whispered Parzalamis.

‘I’ll have no part in this,' answered Mothac, rising and walking to the door. Stepping outside into the gathering twilight he looked around. There was no one in sight and he returned to the room. The light was failing and Mothac lit three lanterns. 'It would be madness to kill the child. Philip's anger would be colossal.'

'That is true. But we must consider where best such anger could be directed. In Athens the orator Demosthenes speaks out against Philip with great vehemence. If the assassin were to be in the pay of Athens then Philip would march south, yes?'

'Nothing would stop him,' agreed the Theban.

'And it is well known that central Greece is a burial ground for ambition. All the great generals have fallen there.'

'How will the deed be done?'

'The matter is already in hand. A Methonian slave named Lolon will kill the child; he has been bribed to do so by two Athenians in our service. He will be taken alive, of course, and will confess that he was hired on the instructions of Demosthenes, for he believes such to be the case.'

'Why are you telling me this?'

'The two Athenians have been told to flee north from Pella. It will not be expected. You will hide them here for some weeks. After that they can make their way to Olynthus.'

'You ask a great deal,' Mothac told him.

'I agree, my dear Mothac, but then — as you know — we pay very well.'

* * *

Parmenion sat in the western alcove of his andron , eyes fixed on a honey-bee as it settled on a flowering yellow rose.

The bloom slowly bent as the bee shuffled inside seeking pollen.

'Is that all he said?' asked the Spartan.

'Is it not enough?' Mothac countered.

Parmenion sighed and stood, stretching his back. It had taken three years to infiltrate Mothac into the Persian spy system, and at last it was beginning to justify the effort. At first they had been wary of him, knowing him to be Parmenion's friend. Then slowly, as his information proved accurate, they had begun to trust him more. But this sudden sharing of such a powerful secret would need some serious consideration. 'I will have the servant watched, and put extra guards in the garden beneath Alexander's window.'

'But you must tell the King,' put in Mothac.

'No, that would not be wise. There is great fear in Persia that — ultimately — Philip will lead his forces into Asia. It is making them reckless. The attack on Philip at the Festival — the Olynthians would never attempt anything so rash.

No, it was the Persians, and I don't think it wise to tell Philip. But equally I do not want Parzalamis to know that you are no traitor.'

'Why is that so important?' asked the Theban.

Parmenion grinned. 'I do not wish to find you with a knife between your ribs. And there is no doubt in my mind that Persia will one day be the enemy. It is the richest kingdom in the world — and Philip spends recklessly. Despite the mines and cities we have captured there is still not enough wealth in Macedonia to pay for the army. No, Persia is the ultimate prize, therefore it is vital to maintain contact with Parzalamis. But how do we save the prince — without compromising you?'

'The Methonian servant could have an accident — break his neck?' offered Mothac.

Parmenion shook his head. 'Too obvious. And the Athenians — whose names we do not know — would only hire someone else. It is a thorny problem. But I will work on it.'

'He gave no indication of how soon Lolon will strike. It could be tonight!' said Mothac.

'Yes,' answered Parmenion, holding his voice even, not allowing a flicker of emotion to betray his concern. 'I will ride for Pella tomorrow. Now, tell me, how is Titan's foal?'

'Suckling well with a milk mare. He is strong. He will survive.'

'Good. Now you should get home and rest. I need to think.'

Mothac stood. 'This game is growing in complexity, my friend. I am not comfortable with it.'

'Nor I. But kingdoms are at stake and nothing remains simple.'

When the Theban had gone Parmenion strolled in the gardens, halting at the marble fountain. There were three statues at the centre representing Aphrodite, Goddess of Love, Athena, Goddess of Wisdom and War, and Hera, the Queen of the Gods. In their midst stood a handsome youth holding an apple.

'Kingdoms are at stake and nothing remains simple.'

The youth was Paris, a Prince of Troy, and the three goddesses had commanded him to present the golden apple to the most beautiful among them. Parmenion gazed at the youth's stone face, reading the emotion the sculptor had so exquisitely carved there. It was the look of the lost. If he gave the apple to one then the others would hate him, not resting until they saw him dead.

'Kingdoms are at stake and nothing remains simple.'

Paris had presented the prize to Aphrodite, and she had rewarded him by making the most beautiful woman in the world love him. His happiness was complete. But the woman was Helen, wife of Menelaus, King of Sparta, and Athena, allied with Hera, conspired to bring a Greek army seeking vengeance. Paris saw his city conquered, his family slain, and was himself stabbed to death as Troy burned.

Foolish boy, thought Parmenion. He should have ignored beauty and presented it to the strongest. How could Paris have believed that Love alone could save him? Pushing such thoughts from his mind he stayed by the fountain pool until dusk, concentrating on the problem set by Parzalamis.

Servants brought him food and wine which he left untouched on the marble bench where he sat beneath a flowering tree that offered shade from the setting sun. As the hours passed he was no nearer to a solution and this galled him.

Loosen your mind, he told himself. Think back to your days with Xenophon, and the advice the Athenian general offered so freely.

'If a problem cannot be tackled by a frontal assault,' Xenophon had said, 'then try a flank attack.' Parmenion smiled at the memory.

Very well, he thought. Let us examine all that we know. The Persians wish to kill Alexander. They gave Mothac two reasons. Firstly their magi believe him to be possessed. Secondly, if Athens could be implicated in the child's murder, it would set Philip on the road to revenge. What facts do I possess, he asked himself?

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