David Gemmell - Dark Prince

'We will find Chiron.'

‘I’ll never find him,' muttered the centaur. 'He has abandoned me. And I will always be alone.'

'No,' said Alexander, stepping close and taking Camiron's hand. 'You are not alone. We will be friends, you and I.

Until we find Chiron.'

The centaur bent his torso forward and whispered, 'This is an evil place. It has always been so. If you get on my back, I will run from here like the wind. I can carry you to the far mountains. They will not catch us.'

'There is evil everywhere, my friend,' Alexander told him, 'and we are safer here than in the mountains. Trust me.'

Camiron said nothing, but fear still shone in his eyes and his flanks trembled. 'You are mighty Camiron,' said the boy suddenly, 'the strongest of centaurs. You fear nothing. You are the fastest, the bravest, the finest of warriors.'

The centaur nodded. 'Yes, yes, I am all those things. I am! I am a great fighter. I am not frightened.'

'I know. We will journey to the sea and then to Sparta. I will ride you and you will protect me.'

'To the sea, yes. Will Chiron be there? Is he close?'

'He is very close. Tell me, where were you when you. . awoke last?'

'It was in a wood, close to the mountains. I heard shouts and screams. It was the Makedones killing the centaurs.

That's when I saw you.'

'Was anything around you when you woke?'

'Just trees and rocks and… a stream, I think. I don't remember going there. I don't remember things very well.'

'The first time I saw you, you had a pouch of leather on a belt. In it there was a golden stone. But you do not have it now.'

'A pouch? Yes. . there was. But I left it behind. The screams startled me. Is it important?'

'No, I just wondered where it was. We will leave soon, but first I must speak with Parmenion.'

The Spartan was deep in conversation with the priestess Thena and Attalus, but when Alexander joined them the group fell silent. 'I need to speak with you,' said the boy.

'Of course,' Parmenion answered, kneeling to face the prince.

'It is about Chiron.'

'I think he is lost to us.'

'No. He is the centaur, Camiron.' Swiftly he told Parmenion of his first meeting with the magus , and how he had become a centaur. 'But now Camiron has lost the magic stone. I don't think he can change back.'

'There is little we can do for him,' said Parmenion, 'save keep him with us. But, more importantly, how are you faring?'

Alexander looked into the Spartan's eyes, reading the concern there. 'I am well. He took me by surprise. The Enchantment in these woods is very strong — and very dark.'

'Do you recall any of it?'

'All of it. In a strange way it was very peaceful. I could see everything and yet I was not in command. I needed to make no decisions. He is very strong, Parmenion. I felt it when his mind reached out and touched the beasts. He brought them to his will instantly.'

'Can you still feel his presence?'

'No. It is as if he is sleeping.'

'Do you have the strength to stop him, should he try to. . control you once more?'

'I think so. But how can I know?'

'Do the best that you can,' advised the Spartan, 'and tell me when he returns.'

'I will. What happens now?'

'The King is going to lead us to the sea. Once there we will find a way to cross the Gulf of Korinthos. . Corinth.

From there we will travel south through Arkadia to Sparta. After that… I don't know.'

'I can open the Giant's Gateway,' said Alexander softly.

'Do not think of it,' whispered the Spartan. 'You are not who they think you are.'

'Oh, but I am,' answered the boy. 'Believe me, Parmenion, I am Iskander.'

For three days the small group moved south through the forest, led by Gorgon and guided by three Vores who swooped and dived in the sky above the trees, watching for signs of pursuit. Alexander rode Camiron, whose spirits had soared on the second morning.

'I can remember,' Camiron told the prince. 'It is wonderful. I went to sleep and woke up in the same place.'

'That is good,' replied the boy distantly.

Parmenion walked often beside the Forest King, Derae and'Attalus bringing up the rear behind the centaur and his rider.

For the first two days the priestess said little to the swordsman, walking in silence and spending her evenings in deep conversation with Parmenion. But on the morning of the third day Attalus hung back from the group, allowing some thirty paces to grow between them.

'You are walking very slowly,' said Derae.

'I want to talk to you,' he told her.

'Why? What am I to you?'

'I need… I want. . advice.'

Derae looked at him closely, reaching out to touch his spirit, feeling the surging, complex emotions raging within him. Swiftly she withdrew. 'How may I help you?'

'You are a seeress, are you not?'

'I am.'

'And you can see the future?'

'There are many futures, Attalus; they change day by day. Tell me what troubles you.'

'The Demon said that he would see Parmenion and me both slain. Did he speak the truth?'

Derae looked into the swordsman's troubled face. 'What would you do if I told you that he did?'

'I don't know. All my known enemies are dead; there is safety in that. But he is the son of the only friend I have ever had. I could not. .' His voice trailed away. 'Will you tell me my future?'

'No, it would not be wise. You carry great hatred and bitterness, Attalus. And the events of your past have twisted your soul. Your love for Philip is the only redeeming quality you have.'

'Will you tell me whether the boy is a danger to me?'

For a moment only she hesitated. 'Give me your hand,' she commanded. He obeyed her, offering his left, his right resting on his sword-hilt. Emotions flooded her — strong, harsh and almost overpowering. She saw his mother slain by his father, saw the father murdered by the young Attalus. Then, in the years that followed, she saw the bitter young man send scores of people to their deaths, using knife or bow, sword or poison. At last she sighed and released his hand.

'Well?' he demanded.

'You have many enemies,' she told him, her voice low and sorrowful. 'You are hated by almost all who know you.

Believe me, assassin, at this time the prince is the least of your foes.'

'But he will be an enemy, will he not?'

'If he lives,' she replied, holding to his gaze. 'If any of us live.'

'Thank you,' he said, moving past her and walking on.

That night, as the others slept, Derae sat with Parmenion on the brow of a hill and told the Spartan what had occurred with Attalus. 'You think he will try to kill the boy?' he asked.

'Not immediately. But he is a sad, twisted man. There is little good in him.'

'I will watch him with care. But tell me, lady, why did Aristotle send you?'

'He thought I could help you. Have I not done so?'

'Of course — but that is not what I meant. Why did he send.you? Why not another?'

'Is my company so painful to you?' she countered, her unease growing.

'Not at all. You are like a cool breeze on a summer's day. You make my soul rest. I am not good with women, Thena.

I am clumsy and short of temper.' He chuckled. 'The ways of your race are alien to me.'

'You make us sound like another species.'

'Sometimes I think that you are,' he admitted. 'When I was very young I used to watch Derae run. I would hide on a hilltop and observe the girls in their races. Their grace made me feel ungainly and awkward — and yet the memories have a certain glow.'

'It is good to talk of fine memories,' she told him. 'They are all that makes life a joy. Tell me of your family.'

'I thought you wanted good memories,' he snapped, looking away.

'You do not love your wife?'