David Gemmell - Dark Prince

Without the Change I would die. And, as the Enchantment lessens day by day, the Change becomes more difficult, more fraught with pain. That is what Iskander will rectify; he will bring back the Enchantment.'

'Unless Philippos captures him,' pointed out Parmenion.

'Exactly so. How do you propose escaping him?'

'By travelling through the Forest of Gorgon.'

'Then we are all dead.'

'Now it is for you to trust me, Brontes. I am not a man who understands your mysteries, or the power of the Enchantment, but I know the ways of war and the nature of enmity.'

'Gorgon will kill you, Parmenion. He hates Humans even more than I.'

'I am counting on that,' answered the strategos . 'We have a saying, Brontes: The enemy of my enemy must be my friend.'

'Gorgon has no friends. Not now. . not ever.’

‘You know him?' asked Parmenion softly. 'I do not wish to speak of it.'

Derae lay awake, her spirit floating in the night sky, seeking signs of hidden watchers. But there were none, and this worried her. Did it mean that they feared her powers, or that they had somehow found a way to neutralize them and were even now spying on the caves? The thoughts were not comforting.

You need sleep, she told herself, settling down and covering herself with the rust-coloured cloak Aristotle had supplied. It was thick wool, warm at night, cool in the heat of the day, and she snuggled under it. But sleep would not come.

She had not known what to expect in this strange new world and had prepared herself for surprises. But Chiron had astonished her. He was almost a twin of Aristotle. Derae had gently reached out, touching the man's memories, and in the same moment he became aware of her. He did not close off his thoughts but greeted her with a mind-smile.

He was not Aristotle, having no memories of Macedonia or the Greece she knew. Yet the halls of his memory were vast, full of vanished nations, changed worlds. He had walked in Akkady and Atlantis, in many forms — warrior and mystic, demi-god and demon, made immortal by the magic of the same golden stones possessed by Aristotle.

'Are you satisfied?' he had asked, jerking her back to the present.

'Yes,' she told him. That had been earlier in the day when Brontes and his hideous brothers had met with the centaurs and planned the ambush that saved the two Macedonians. Brontes had been scouting ahead and had seen the chase, judging quite rightly where it must end. Even so it was close-run and had left Derae trembling.

'Where are you from, my dear?' Chiron asked her as they walked from the battle site to the caves.

'I am a priestess — a Healer,' she answered. 'A friend urged me to come here to aid Parmenion.'

'This friend. . does he look like me?'

'Indeed he does.'

'Curious. I wonder how much of our history is shared? I would like to meet him. Will he be following you through?'

'I do not think so. There is something here which frightens him greatly.'

Chiron chuckled. 'There are things here which frighten me greatly. Have you known Parmenion for long?'

'We have met — but briefly,' she answered, with honesty.

'Now that is a surprise. I notice your gaze is never far from him. Is it merely that he is a handsome warrior?'

'There are some subjects we should avoid, sir,' she told him primly.

'As you wish.' He had left her then and walked back to join Brontes at the rear.

As the night wore on Derae slept fitfully, waking with the dawn. The child Alexander peeked in at the cave-mouth, smiling as he saw her. 'Good day,' he said, moving into the cave and squatting down beside her.

'And to you, young prince. You are awake early.'

'Yes, I don't need much sleep. What is your name?'

'You may call me Thena.'

'Ah, but it isn't your name, is it?'

'I did not say that it was. I said that is what you may call me.'

'Then you must call me Iskander.'

'I shall. . Iskander. Are you frightened?'

'No,' he replied with a wide grin. 'Parmenion is here. There is no greater warrior in all of Greece — and he's the best general too.'

'You have much faith in him, Iskander. You must admire him greatly.'

'After my father he is the man I love best. Where are you from?'

'I am a Healer. I dwell in a Temple across the sea, near the ruins of Troy.'

'Have you always been a Healer?'

'No. Once I was just a girl, who dreamt of marrying the man she loved. But it was not to be.'

'Why?' The question was asked so simply that Derae laughed and reached out to ruffle his hair. As her hand was about to touch him she felt a burning pain in her palm and jerked back. His face crumpled. 'I'm sorry. It hasn't done that for a long time; I thought I was free.'

Steeling herself she reached out again, her fingers pushing back the golden fringe above his green eyes. The pain touched her once more, but she showed nothing. 'It was just a cramp,' she assured him. But he shook his head.

'You are very kind, but please do not touch me. I do not wish to see you in pain.'

A dark shadow fell across the cave-mouth and Parmenion entered. 'There you are,' he said, kneeling down beside the prince. 'Come, we must prepare for the march.'

'Her name is Thena,' said Alexander. 'She's very nice.' Then he scampered from the cave and Derae looked into Parmenion's eyes.

'You have chosen your route, strategos ?

'Yes.' He settled down beside her. 'Are you sure we have not met, lady?'

'What makes you think so?' she countered.

'I cannot say. Your face is not familiar to me, but I feel I know you.'

'We have met,' she admitted, 'on the isle of Samothrace.'

'You!' he whispered. 'You were hooded and veiled; I thought you were in mourning.'

'I was. And I am. Now,' she said, rising smoothly to her feet, 'you said we must prepare for the march.'

'Yes, of course. You know where I plan to go?' he asked, pushing himself upright.

'To the Forest of Gorgon.'

He smiled then, his face becoming remarkably boyish. Derae was forced to look away. 'There is no other way,' he said.

'I know. What is your plan?'

'We will walk to the edge of the forest. Brontes says it will take three days. I will leave the others there and make my way to Gorgon.'

'Why must you risk this? What can you gain?'

Parmenion's smile faded. 'We can go no other way. In the open we will be hunted down: nowhere to hide, nowhere to run. The forest offers sanctuary and a chance to reach the Gulf.'

'Brontes says the evil there is worse than the Makedones.'

'Yes, and I believe him.'

'Then how can you bargain with them? What can you offer?'

'The dream of Iskander: to open the Giant's Gateway and bring back the magic. Evil or not, they are still creatures of Enchantment.'

'I will go with you,' she said.

'There is no need to risk yourself. I am capable of negotiating with the Forest Lord.'

'Even so, I will accompany you. I have many talents, Parmenion. They will prove useful.'

'I do not doubt it.'

For two days the group moved on, heading west, higher into the mountains, seeking the long pass that snaked down into the Forest of Gorgon spreading out below them in an ocean of trees. On the morning of the third day, as they sheltered from a sudden storm under a wide overhang of rock, they heard the sound of hoofbeats on the path. Attalus and Parmenion drew their swords and walked out into the storm, followed by Brontes and Chiron.

A stallion came trotting along the path, lifting its great head and whinnying as it saw the magus . 'Caymal!' shouted Chiron, running forward and stroking the horse's neck. 'It is good to see you, boy.'

Taking the beast's mane, Chiron vaulted to the stallion's back. The rain eased and the magus rode Caymal alongside Parmenion. 'I shall scout on ahead,' said Chiron. 'I will find you before nightfall.'