David Gemmell - Dark Prince

Is it still mine?

Of course it is, for I have Parmenion. Yes, the Spartan will always be loyal.

Philip smiled and lay back, resting his head upon the soft, satin-covered cushion. The Lion of Macedon is with me, he thought, and drifted once more into sleep.

The grass was growing crimson, dripping blood to the parched earth beneath it. The sky was the colour of ash, grey and lifeless. Not a bird flew, no breath of wind disturbed the plain. .

The bath had been designed and built by Philip, using only the finest marble. It took six slaves more than an hour to fill it with heated, perfumed water, and a dozen men could sit on the sunken seats or swim across the centre. The King had constructed it after the second Thracian campaign, when his right leg had been smashed and the bones had knitted badly, leaving him with an exaggerated limp and constant pain. Only immersed in warm water did the limb cease to throb, and Philip had taken to holding meetings in the bath with his officers around him.

Today only Parmenion was present and the two men sat side by side as slaves added boiling water, keeping the temperature high. Crimson flowers floated on the surface, their scent strong, and Parmenion felt the tension and weariness of his long ride ebbing away.

'He is gone then,' said the King. 'I shall miss him.'

'He sent you his best regards, my lord.'

Philip chuckled. 'You remember when he threatened to turn me into a lizard?'

'Yes. You took it well, as I recall.'

'Fine days, Parmenion. Days of strength. I miss them.'

The Spartan glanced at his King. Philip was beginning to show signs of age — his black hair and beard speckled with silver, the skin pouching below his eyes. But his grin was still infectious and his power alarming.

'Have we made contact with the Asian cities?' asked Philip.

'Yes. Mothac is receiving reports. We will be welcomed in all the Greek cities of Asia Minor, but the supply lines will be stretched. Thirty thousand men need a great deal of feeding.'

The Athenian fleet will supply us,' said Philip dismissively. 'What do you hear about the new Persian King?'

'He is a diplomat and a warrior. I knew him years ago; it was through him that I lost my commission and came to Macedonia. He is arrogant but not unintelligent. He will not rush at us; he will send his satraps against us at first and try to foment rebellion behind us. Already he has made contact with Sparta and Thebes, and his agents are in Athens and Corinth.'

Philip leaned forward, splashing his face and beard with perfumed water. 'This time it will avail them nothing. There is no army to tackle us — not even Sparta. No one could act alone.'

'Attacking Persia is a major enterprise,' said Parmenion. 'I hope you are not taking it too lightly?'

'Do not concern yourself with that fear, Parmenion. I have dreamt about this for nearly twenty years, but always I knew the dangers. Almost half a century ago Agisaleus of Sparta invaded Persia. What happened? He scored military successes but was summoned home when Thebes rose against him. It is the Persian way. With their limitless gold and our greed, they have kept us at each other's throats for centuries. That's why I waited so long, ensuring that Greece would be safe behind us. Now the Persians have no leverage here.'

'What command will you give Alexander?' asked the Spartan.

Philip's expression hardened. 'None. He will stay behind.'

'To rule in your absence?'

'No. Antipater shall be my Regent.'

'I do not understand, sire. Alexander has proved his competence.'

'It is not his competence that concerns me — it is his loyalty. He plots against me, Parmenion. Before long he will seek to overthrow me- led no doubt in his treachery by his Epirote whore of a mother. They must think me foolish, or perhaps blind in both eyes. Happily I still have friends who report to me.'

'I have never seen any sign of treachery,' said Parmenion.

'Truly? And would you tell me if you did?'

'How could you doubt that I would?'

Philip rose from the bath and limped across the marble floor. Two servants brought him warmed towels; throwing one around his waist, the King used the other to rub dry his hair and beard. Parmenion followed him. 'What is happening to you, Philip? How can you doubt your son's devotion? Twice he has saved your life, and never once have I heard him speak against you. What poison has Attalus been speaking — for I feel his presence in this?'

'You think I have no other spies than Attalus?' retorted the King. 'I have many. Alexander gave a banquet for his friends last month where he made a speech. You know what he said? "What will my father leave me to conquer?" He wishes me dead!'

'That depends on how you read the sentiment. I take it he was speaking of his pride in your achievements.'

'And what of your own son, Philotas? He is constantly speaking about your and — by implication — my failures: the sieges of Perinthos and Byzantion. He used the word stupidity. About me!'

'Stupid people are always the first to use such words. He is not bright, sire, but Alexander always rebukes him. And as for the sieges, well, we hardly covered ourselves with glory. We took neither city. Perhaps we were. . less than brilliant.'

'Why do you always speak up for Alexander?' roared Philip. 'Have I no right to expect your loyalty?'

'Every right,' responded Parmenion. 'And should I ever see a single shred of evidence that you are betrayed I will report it to you. More than that, I will kill any man — any man — who seeks to bring you down.'

Philip took a deep breath and slowly let it out. Then he smiled and relaxed. 'I know. But you are too trusting, Spartan. You still think of the Golden Child. Well, he's a man now, with his own ambitions. But enough of that -

what do you think of my new bride?'

'She is very beautiful, sire.'

'Yes — and sweet-natured. You know, once I thought I loved Olympias, but I am convinced now that I was bewitched.

I see her as she truly is — a vile harridan, foul of temper and viper-tongued. But Cleopatra is everything I could have wished for. She has given me true happiness. And soon I will have another son, one born of love.'

'Yes, sire,' said Parmenion, trying to hold the sadness from his voice.

The wedding festivities were scheduled to last for eight days and no one in Pella could remember any festival like it.

Free wine was distributed to every household, while all men over the age of fifteen received a specially struck gold coin bearing the head of Philip, with Cleopatra's portrait on the reverse. The coin represented half a year's wages to the poorer servants and land workers, and the celebrations were loud, raucous and unforgettable.

An athletics competition had been under way for twelve days, its size and scope rivalling the Games of Olympia, and the city was packed to overflowing as citizens from surrounding areas and guests from all over the country arrived for the wedding. All the champions of Greece were present at the Games and the King presented to each winner a crown of laurel leaves made from finest gold. There were only two Macedonian victors: Philotas won the middle-distance race, and Alexander rode Bucephalus to victory against horsemen from Thrace, Athens, Sparta, Thessaly and Corinth.

The 10,000 crowd sent up a thundrous roar as Alexander crossed the line on the giant black stallion, his nearest competitor some twenty lengths back. The prince cantered Bucephalus in a long circuit of the stadium, acknowledging the cheers, finally halting before the royal dais where Philip sat with Cleopatra beside him, flanked by his generals Parmenion, Antipater, Attalus and Cleitus.

'A fine victory,' said Cleitus, gazing admiringly at the young rider.