As the sun reached noon only the last of Darius' Royal Guards offered any resistance, but these few were swiftly overcome and slain. Just under 3,000 renegade Greek mercenaries laid down their weapons and offered to surrender to Alexander. But the King refused.
'You have betrayed your nation,' he told their messenger. 'You have fought on the side of the Usurper against the avenging army of Greece.'
'But we are mercenaries, sir,' the messenger replied, his face pale under his tan. 'It is our way. Darius offered to hire our services and we served him loyally. How can you call us traitors when we are only following our calling?'
'He paid you to fight,' answered Alexander coldly. 'So fight. Pick up] your weapons and earn your pay.'
'This is madness!' cried the messenger, turning to seek support from Alexander's generals.
'No,' hissed the King, 'this is madness.' And stepping forward he rammed his dagger into the man's neck, forcing the blade up under the chin and into the brain. 'Now kill them all!' he screamed.
Before the mercenaries could gather up their weapons the Thracians and Macedonians surrounding them rushed in, hacking and cutting. Drawing his sword Alexander ran in among them, his blade plunging into the back of the nearest renegade. With a wild roar the entire army descended on the mercenaries, cutting and stabbing until not one enemy soldier was left standing.
One by one the Macedonians fell back from the slaughter until only Alexander, blood-drenched and screaming, ran among the dead seeking fresh victims.
A terrible silence settled on the army as they watched the King's frenzied dance of death among the slain.
Hephaistion, who had taken no part in the slaughter, walked forward to speak softly to Alexander, who sagged into his friend's arms and was helped from the field.
Lindos, Rhodes, 330 BC
Aida was content as she sat under the shade of an awning, her gaze resting on the glittering sea far below. The castle here was built on a towering cliff above a small village that nestled between two bays. From where she sat Aida could see only the smaller bay, a sheltered cliff — protected bowl where ships could anchor to escape the winter gales that raged across the Aegean.
A trireme was beached in the bay, its huge sail furled, its three banks of oars drawn in. It sat on the beach like a child's toy and Aida watched as several sailors leapt ashore and an officer began the long walk up the winding cliff-path to the castle.
The sea air was fresh and Aida drew in a deep breath. She could taste the Dark God's power upon her tongue, feel his swelling presence in the air around her, blowing on the sea breeze from Asia. She licked her lips, revelling in dreams of tomorrow.
There were those who talked of good and evil. Foolish notions. There was only strength and weakness, power and helplessness. This was at the heart of all the Mysteries she had so painfully learned during her long, long life.
Earth magic could prolong life, extend strengths, earn riches for the man or woman who understood it. But earth magic required blood and sacrifice; it needed screaming souls to feed it.
This much had been understood since the first rays of the first dawn. Throughout history the wise had known of the power of sacrifice. But only the true initiates understood the nature of the power released.
Yes, you could kill a bull and gain a particle of power. But a man? His fear just before death would swell the particle, filling it with dark energy, releasing Enchantment into the air.
Aida's dark eyes looked to the east, across the wide waters.
Thousands upon thousands of men had died there a year ago, at Arbela, slain by the ever-victorious Macedonian army. Darius the King was dead, murdered by his own disenchanted men as they retreated. Alexander was crowned King in Babylon.
Alexander, King of Kings. Alexander the god. .
No, she realized, not yet the god. Still the mortal fought to hold back the power living within him.
But not for much longer. . She closed her eyes, her spirit soaring across the blue sea to the city of Susa, where Alexander sat upon a throne of gold studded with rare gems. He was dressed now in flowing silks, a cloak of golden thread upon his shoulders.
Aida hovered unseen in the air before him. 'Master!' she whispered.
There was no response, but she could feel the pulsing force of the god within him. Alexander was like a man clinging to a rock-face far above the ground, his arms tired, his fingers cramping. She could sense his fear. His soul had proved stronger than Aida would have believed possible, holding the god from his destiny — and such a destiny! Once he was in full control his powers would grow, radiating far beyond the frail human shell he inhabited. The might of Chaos would then surge across the earth, drawn into every living being, every tree and rock, every lake and stream.
And then those who had served him faithfully would gain their reward: a life of eternal youth, an infinity of pleasure, an intensity of experience and sensation never before attained by those of human birth.
Soon would come the blessed day.
Each victory, each death by Alexander's hand, added strength to the darkness within him.
Not long now, thought Aida.
Returning to her body she leaned back on the couch, reaching for a goblet of wine. The sun was dipping now towards the west and she felt its rays hot upon her legs. Standing, she pushed the couch further back into the shadows before stretching out again.
Soon the messenger would be here, hot and tired from walking the steep cliff-path. She had written to Alexander, begging leave to come to his court where she could offer the benefit of her sage counsel. Once there she could speed the process, adding the necessary narcotics to his wine, lessening his will to resist.
Such joys awaited. .
Her thoughts turned to the woman Derae and she found her good mood evaporating. Old fool! She had been so dismissive, seemingly so content trapped within that frail, arthritic shell.
'How content are you now,' whispered Aida, 'now that the worms feast on your flesh? You understood nothing. All your healing and your good works! You merely fed upon the Enchantment of the world, giving nothing back. If we were all as you, then the Enchantment would die. What would the world be then? A sprawling mass of humanity with not a shred of magic upon it.'
She shivered at the thought. A young red-haired acolyte moved before her, bowing deeply. 'There is a man to see you, mistress,' she said.'An officer of Alexander.'
'Bring him to me,' ordered Aida, 'and fetch wine.'
The girl backed away. Aida smoothed her gown of black silk and waited. A young man, tall and dark-bearded, stepped into view. His breastplate was black, edged with gold, and he held a white-plumed helm in his left hand. His face was handsome, burnished bronze by the Asian sun, and showed not a trace of sweat from the long climb to the castle.
He bowed. 'I am Hephaistion, lady. I am sent by Alexander to bring you to his court.'
She looked into his dark eyes and disliked him immediately. Though she despised men, Aida had come to rely on their adoration. But Hephaistion was unaffected by her beauty. It irked her, but she did not show it. Instead she offered the young man a dazzling smile.
'I am honoured,' she said, 'that the Great King should invite me to Susa.'
Hephaistion nodded. 'Your home here is beautiful,' he said. 'May we walk the walls?'
Aida disliked strong sunlight, but Hephaistion was known as Alexander's closest friend and she had no wish to offend him. 'Of course,' she told him. Taking up a wide black-brimmed hat, she stood and led him to the northern wall. From here they could see the wider of the two bays of Lindos and watch the gulls swooping and diving above the small fishing boats returning from the sea.