David Gemmell - Lion of Macedon

Pelopidas drained his wine. 'I'll play the game with you, Parmenion, though you are wrong this time. But let me think. We hold the southern passes and all entries from the Peleponnese. We could pin down a Spartan army for months. And, as you say, they could not cross the gulf without a sea battle — unless, that is, they crossed much further north, say here at Agion,' he said, stabbing the map. 'Then they would head for Orchomenus and Lake Copais. They would be able to draw allies from the city, strike south-west through Coronea and Thespiae to Thebes herself and, coming from the north, would bar all help from reaching us from Thessaly.'

'Exactly my point,' said Parmenion. 'Most of our troops are south, guarding the passes. But who do we have in the north?'

'Chaireas with 1,000 hoplites, mostly from Megara and Tanagra. Good fighting men. Solid. They are based at Thespiae.'

'Send riders to Chaireas, ordering him north to blockade the passes at Coronea. If I am wrong, we can say that Chaireas was merely taking his troops through manoeuvres.'

'Sometimes,' said Pelopidas, 'I do not enjoy your company. My father used to tell stories about dark demons who stole the souls of little boys. Afterwards I would lie in my bed unable to sleep, even though I knew the bastard was only trying to frighten me. I never liked the man. But now you have made me nervous.' He sighed. 'I will do as you suggest, but — when you are proved to be wrong

— you will give me your new black gelding. How does that sound?'

Parmenion chuckled. 'Agreed. And if I am proved to be right, you will give me your new shield?'

'But I sent to Corinth for that shield. It cost me twice what any reasonable man would pay for a horse.'

'You see,' observed Parmenion, 'already you are beginning to consider I may be right.'

Pelopidas grunted. 'What I will do,' he said, 'is ride your gelding up and down outside your gates every morning. Then you will see the cost of your obsession with Sparta."

A week later came disquieting news, though not from the north, where Chaireas had marched to Coronea and fortified a ridge. Calepios returned from Sparta and went straight to the home of Pelopidas. The Theban general heard him out and both men sought Parmenion. They found him on the race-track, pounding out the miles in an effortless lope. Pelopidas waved, beckoning the runner to them.

Parmenion masked his irritation and joined them; he did not like his daily run to be disturbed or interrupted. Nevertheless he bowed politely to Calepios, the orator returned the bow and the three men sat at the new marble bench by the Grave of Hector.

'There has been an unusual turn of events,' said Calepios. 'We were preparing to sign the Treaty of Peace when Epaminondas noticed that the word Boeotian had been changed to Theban. He asked why this was so, and Agisaleus told him that Thebes — and not the Boeotian League — was currently the power north of the Peleponnese. Epaminondas reminded him that he was the representative of the League, not merely of Thebes. But the Spartans remained firm. Either Epaminondas signed for Thebes — or he did not sign. All others have already signed, Parmenion.

Epaminondas asked for a further three days to consider the matter and report back to the League.

That is why I am here. What is Agisaleus planning? Why would he do such a thing?'

'To separate us from Athens. If all cities sign — save Thebes — then we are outcasts. Sparta could march against us without fear of attack from Athens.'

'The Athenians would never allow it,' said Calepios. 'They have been with us from the start.'

'Not quite,' Parmenion pointed out. 'It needed a Spartan invasion to spur them on. But they must be starting to see the Boeotian League as a possible threat. The Athenians have long coveted the title of leaders of Greece. If they sit back and watch Thebes and Sparta rip each other to shreds, who prospers but them? They can gather the pieces.'

'Therefore,' said Pelopidas, 'we should sign. What difference does it make?'

Parmenion laughed and shook his head. 'A great warrior you may be, Pelopidas, but avoid the area of politics. If Epaminondas signs, it will be a message to all democrats in Boeotia that Thebes has declared herself the ruler of all. It would sunder the League. It is a clever ploy. Agisaleus is as cunning as ever.'

'What then is this all about?' asked Pelopidas. 'Will he sign, or will he not?'

'He cannot,' said Parmenion. 'If he did, it would mean a slow, sure death for the League. Instead we must muster the army. Agisaleus will come now, for sure.'

'We cannot just muster the army,' put in Calepios. 'We are a democracy. First the seven elected Boeotian generals must be summoned; that is part of the constitution. And one of those generals is Epaminondas.'

'A rule devised by idiots,' snapped Parmenion. 'What will you do, Pelopidas? You are one of the Seven.'

'I will order the Sacred Band to re-form, and gather what hoplites I can from Thebes and the surrounding areas. All we can do now is to alert the other cities and request troops. We cannot order them.'

'A wondrous beast is democracy,' said Parmenion.

It was almost dawn when Parmenion left for home, walking the deserted streets and avenues, past the fountains and the moonlit statues. He moved with care, avoiding narrow alleys, his hand on his sword-hilt. As he crossed an open square he saw a dark, hooded figure sitting by a walled pool.

Anxiously he cast his eyes around the square, but there was no one else in sight, nor any hiding-place behind which an assassin could lurk. Parmenion walked on.

'No greetings for an old friend?' came the dry voice of Tamis, as he sought to pass. He stopped and turned; the old woman raised her head and smiled.

'Are you human or spirit?' he asked, feeling the chill of the night breeze on his skin.

'I am Tamis,' she replied.

'What is it you require of me? Why do you haunt me, woman?'

'I require nothing, Parmenion. I am an observer. Are you content?'

'Why should I not be? And give me no more of your false prophecies. Thebes still stands — despite your words.'

'I did not say she would fall in a day,' said Tamis wearily, 'and my prophecies are never false.

Sometimes I wish they were. Look at you, young and in your prime, feeling immortality in your veins. You look at me and you see a walking corpse seeking a suitable grave. You see wrinkled skin and ruined teeth. You think that is me? You think this is Tamis? Look again, Parmenion,' she said, rising and pushing back the hood. For a moment she was bathed in moonlight so bright he could not bear to look upon her, then it cleared. Standing before him now was a young woman of breath-taking beauty, her hair gold, her lips full, her eyes a brilliant blue, yet warm and more than friendly.

Then the image faded and he saw her skin dry out and sag, her shoulders bow and her waist thicken.

His mouth was dry. 'You are a sorceress!' he whispered.

Her laugh became a cackle and she sank back to her seat. 'Of course I am a sorceress,' she told him, her voice edged with sorrow. 'But what you saw was once real. There is not one old woman in all the world who would not understand. One day, Parmenion, perhaps you too will be old, your skin dry and mottled, your teeth loose in your jaws. But inside you will be as you always were — except that you will find yourself trapped in a decaying shell.'

'I have no time for this. What do you want of me?'

'Is your hatred still strong?' she asked. 'Do you still require the death of Sparta?'

'I desire to see Thebes free of Spartan influence, that is all.'

'You told Asiron you were the Death of Nations.'

'How could you know that?' Suddenly he laughed. 'A foolish question to ask of a sorceress. Or a Spartan spy. Yes, I told him. But that was years ago. Perhaps your prophecies worried me then.