David Gemmell - Dark Prince

The cold seeped into Hephaistion's bones and he rubbed his hands together, blowing hot air to his palms.

'This is more to your liking, is it not?' asked Alexander suddenly.

'My lord?'

'The cold, the naked sky, enemies at hand. You are a soldier — a warrior.'

'I like it a little warmer than this,' Hephaistion answered, forcing a smile.

'You prowled my rooms like a caged lion, never at ease.'

'I was doing as the lord Parmenion ordered.'

'Yes, of course. You worship him.'

'Not worship, my prince. I have much to thank him for. After my mother was killed I was forced to sell our farm at auction, in order to pay the fees at the military academy. When I came of age the deeds to the farm were returned to me. Parmenion had bought it.'

'He is a kindly man — and I understand he saved you from Paionian raiders?'

'Yes. How did you know of it? Did he tell you?'

'No,' said Alexander, 'but I like to know all about the men who follow me. Why do you think Attalus is with him?'

Hephaistion spread his hands. 'I am a soldier, not a strategos . How many men are with them? Did your vision show you?'

'They are alone.'

Hephaistion was truly surprised. 'That seems unlikely, sir. Attalus has many enemies and should rightly now judge you among them.'

Alexander leaned in close. 'Where will you stand if I go against Attalus?'

'By your side!'

'And against Philip?'

'The same answer. But do not ask me to fight Parmenion.'

'You would be with him?'

'No — that is why I do not want you to ask me.'

Alexander nodded, but said nothing. Swinging his head he saw his three Companions huddling under a rough-built shelter, but a sudden gust of wind toppled it over them. The prince's laughter rippled out. 'These are the men who would conquer the world for me,' he said.

They struggled clear of the wreckage and gathered around the fire. 'Do you not feel the cold?' Ptolemy asked Alexander. The prince grinned. 'It cannot touch me.'

The Companions began to joke about Alexander's new-found powers and Hephaistion leaned back against the rock, closing his ears to their banter, letting it wash over him like the background noise of the river, blending in with the shrieking of the wind.

He was both amazed and angry at his exchange with the prince: amazed because of the surprising way he had pledged himself to follow him, angry at himself for his easy betrayal of Parmenion. That he had grown to like and respect Alexander was understandable: the prince was a man of honour and courage. But Hephaistion had never guessed how deep this respect had become, and understood now that it bordered on love. Alexander was the sun and Hephaistion felt warm in his company. But do you not love Parmenion, he asked himself? The answer was swift in coming. Of course, but it was love born of debt, and debts can always be repaid.

The snow eased, the wind dying away. The fire crackled and grew, dancing tongues of flame licking at the wood.

Hephaistion opened his cloak, allowing the warmth to bathe his upper body.

Alexander was looking at him. 'Our guests are almost upon us,' said the prince. 'I want you to ride out behind them and scout for any larger force that might be following.'

Hephaistion's mouth was suddenly dry as he stood and bowed. 'As you command,' he answered.

And here it was, the moment of betrayal. If the Companions slew Parmenion and Attalus, it would mean civil war.

But Alexander had given Hephaistion a way out. He would not be present when the killing began. The officer felt nauseous as he strode to his mount.

But he rode away without a backward glance.

Parmenion saw the distant camp-fire and reined in his mount. The light appeared like a flickering candle and, at this distance, it was not possible to make out the men around it.

'You think that's them?' asked Attalus, riding alongside.

'It is likely,' the general answered. 'But it is possible they are a band of robbers.'

Attalus chuckled. 'Would they be a match for the two greatest swordsmen in Macedonia?'

Parmenion smiled. 'Once upon a time, my friend. I fear age has withered our skills a fraction.'

'Speak for yourself, Spartan. I am as fast now as ever.'

Parmenion glanced at the white-haired swordsman, surprised at the conviction in his voice. He actually believed the words he spoke. The Spartan offered no argument, but heeled his horse forward.

Closer they came to the camp-fire. The ears of Parmenion's stallion pricked up and he whinnied, the sound being answered from the trees beyond the fire.

'It is them,' said Parmenion. 'That was Bucephalus. He and Paxus were stable companions.'

'What if they come at us with swords?' Attalus asked.

'We die,' answered Parmenion, 'for I'll not fight Alexander.'

The clouds broke and the moon shone bright upon the snow-covered land, the nearby river glinting like polished iron. Parmenion rode to the camp-fire and dismounted. Alexander sat cross-legged before the flames, but he rose as the general approached.

'A cold night,' remarked the prince, looking past Parmenion at Attalus.

'Yes, sir,' the swordsman agreed. 'A cold night following hot words.'

'What do you wish to say to me, Attalus?'

The swordsman cleared his throat. 'I have come. . to. .' he licked his lips. 'I have come to apologize,' he said, the words flowing out swiftly as if their taste was acid upon his tongue. 'I don't know why I made that toast. I was drunk.

I was as shocked as you were, and I would do anything to withdraw the words.'

'My father sent you to say this?'

'No, it was my choice.'

Alexander nodded and turned to Parmenion. 'And you, my friend, what have you to tell me?'

'Philip is deeply sorry. He loves you, Alexander; he wants you home.'

'He loves me? There is a thought! I have not seen much evidence of such love in a long time. How do I know that I do not ride back to Pella in time for my own murder?'

'You have my word,' said Parmenion simply. 'Now, will you not ask your Companions to join us? They must be frozen stiff waiting in the woods.'

'They will remain where I order them,' said the prince, cloaking the refusal with a smile. 'Let us sit down by the fire and talk for a while.'

Alexander added more fuel and the three men sat while Parmenion outlined Philip's regret and sadness. Finally the Spartan opened the pouch at his side, producing the necklet. 'When the King touched this, all his thoughts and fears concerning you vanished. You understand why? The magic of the necklet cut through the spells that were weaving about him.'

Alexander gazed down at the necklet. 'You are saying he has been bewitched?'

'I believe so.'

'Then perhaps he should wear it?'

'You do not want it back?'

'I have no need of it; it served its purpose. Obviously the Dark God has chosen another vessel. I am free of him.'

'What harm would it do to wear it once more?' asked Parmenion softly.

'No harm at all — save that I do not wish to. Now, you say my father is anxious to welcome me home and that I should trust you. Therefore I shall. For you have always been my friend, Parmenion, and the man I most admire — save for Philip. Will you ride with me to the King?'

'Of course, sir.'

Attalus cleared his throat once more. 'Am I forgiven?' he asked.

'Why would I not forgive you, Attalus? Your actions have brought about a change I have been longing for through these many years. I am grateful to you.'

'What change is that?' asked Parmenion sharply.

'The return of my father's love,' answered Alexander smoothly. 'Now let us ride.'

Aida dismissed the Whisperers , for they had served their purpose and the Dark Lady was exultant. She had felt the moment when Philip ripped the necklet from Alexander, experiencing a surge of emotion wonderfully similar to a sexual climax.