Dark Prince

'I did not say I envied you,' said the swordsman. Suddenly he grinned. 'But I suppose that I do. I could never like you, Parmenion, but I respect you. Now that is enough of compliments. How are we going to get to Sparta?'

Parmenion rose, stretching his back. 'We'll travel west, crossing the Pindos Mountains, then move down to the coast, keeping to the high ground and forests.'

'You are talking of a journey of some weeks. I do not wish to sound defeatist, but do you think that a party including three monsters and twenty centaurs can travel the length of Greece — even this Greece — without being noticed?'

'Centaurs are not uncommon here,' said Parmenion, 'but we will travel mostly by night when they appear as men. As to Brontes and his brothers, I agree with you. But their strength is prodigious and they may prove invaluable if there is trouble on the road.'

'And you are expecting trouble, no doubt?'

'Yes. We have one great problem that no amount of thinking will overcome. Philippos used sorcery to locate Alexander in another world, therefore it seems likely he will be able to find him in this one. Wherever we go -

however well we hide — the enemy will always be close.'

'Drawn to the boy like flies to a cowpat?' offered Attalus.

'A disgusting observation, though one that is close to the truth,' agreed the Spartan. 'But the priestess claims she can protect us for a while.'

'So then your plan — such as it is — entails leading a small force of half-human beasts across a war-torn land and arriving at a destination where we may — or may not — be welcome, in the hope that Aristotle will have the necessary power to find us and bring us home?'

'Succinctly put. Do you have a better plan?'

'I must admit that nothing of brilliance springs to mind,' said Attalus, 'but there is something else that concerns me.

The question of Alexander. Is he the Iskander these. . creatures. . have been waiting for?'

'No.'

'Then what happens when the beasts find out? They are likely to be just a little angry.'

'Perhaps,' said Parmenion. 'But that is a problem for another day.'

'Something else to look forward to,' grunted Attalus. 'I'll say this for you, Spartan — life in your company is seldom dull.'

* * *

Towards dawn, as he sat lost in thought, Parmenion saw the monstrous figure of Brontes emerging from the trees at the foot of the mountainside. The creature walked forward, then dropped to his knees. Light, ghostly and pale, shimmered around him, and Parmenion watched, awestruck, as the huge bull's head disappeared, leaving the features of a young man, pale-skinned, with hair the colour of polished bronze.

Looking up, the young man saw Parmenion and froze, holding his position for some moments before sitting back and turning away from the Spartan's gaze.

Parmenion strolled out into the moonlight, walking down the slope to sit beside the former minotaur.

'It is not considered polite to view the Change,' said Brontes. 'But then you are not of this world and cannot be expected to understand our customs.'

'Why do you need to assume another form?'

'Why do you Humans need to eat, or breathe? I do not know the answer. I only know what is, and what is necessary.

Without the Change I would die. And, as the Enchantment lessens day by day, the Change becomes more difficult, more fraught with pain. That is what Iskander will rectify; he will bring back the Enchantment.'

'Unless Philippos captures him,' pointed out Parmenion.

'Exactly so. How do you propose escaping him?'

'By travelling through the Forest of Gorgon.'

'Then we are all dead.'

'Now it is for you to trust me, Brontes. I am not a man who understands your mysteries, or the power of the Enchantment, but I know the ways of war and the nature of enmity.'

'Gorgon will kill you, Parmenion. He hates Humans even more than I.'

'I am counting on that,' answered the strategos. 'We have a saying, Brontes: The enemy of my enemy must be my friend.'

'Gorgon has no friends. Not now. . not ever.’

‘You know him?' asked Parmenion softly. 'I do not wish to speak of it.'

* * *

Derae lay awake, her spirit floating in the night sky, seeking signs of hidden watchers. But there were none, and this worried her. Did it mean that they feared her powers, or that they had somehow found a way to neutralize them and were even now spying on the caves? The thoughts were not comforting.

You need sleep, she told herself, settling down and covering herself with the rust-coloured cloak Aristotle had supplied. It was thick wool, warm at night, cool in the heat of the day, and she snuggled under it. But sleep would not come.

She had not known what to expect in this strange new world and had prepared herself for surprises. But Chiron had astonished her. He was almost a twin of Aristotle. Derae had gently reached out, touching the man's memories, and in the same moment he became aware of her. He did not close off his thoughts but greeted her with a mind-smile.

He was not Aristotle, having no memories of Macedonia or the Greece she knew. Yet the halls of his memory were vast, full of vanished nations, changed worlds. He had walked in Akkady and Atlantis, in many forms — warrior and mystic, demi-god and demon, made immortal by the magic of the same golden stones possessed by Aristotle.

'Are you satisfied?' he had asked, jerking her back to the present.

'Yes,' she told him. That had been earlier in the day when Brontes and his hideous brothers had met with the centaurs and planned the ambush that saved the two Macedonians. Brontes had been scouting ahead and had seen the chase, judging quite rightly where it must end. Even so it was close-run and had left Derae trembling.

'Where are you from, my dear?' Chiron asked her as they walked from the battle site to the caves.

'I am a priestess — a Healer,' she answered. 'A friend urged me to come here to aid Parmenion.'

'This friend. . does he look like me?'

'Indeed he does.'

'Curious. I wonder how much of our history is shared? I would like to meet him. Will he be following you through?'

'I do not think so. There is something here which frightens him greatly.'

Chiron chuckled. 'There are things here which frighten me greatly. Have you known Parmenion for long?'

'We have met — but briefly,' she answered, with honesty.

'Now that is a surprise. I notice your gaze is never far from him. Is it merely that he is a handsome warrior?'

'There are some subjects we should avoid, sir,' she told him primly.

'As you wish.' He had left her then and walked back to join Brontes at the rear.

As the night wore on Derae slept fitfully, waking with the dawn. The child Alexander peeked in at the cave-mouth, smiling as he saw her. 'Good day,' he said, moving into the cave and squatting down beside her.

'And to you, young prince. You are awake early.'

'Yes, I don't need much sleep. What is your name?'

'You may call me Thena.'

'Ah, but it isn't your name, is it?'

'I did not say that it was. I said that is what you may call me.'

'Then you must call me Iskander.'

'I shall. . Iskander. Are you frightened?'

'No,' he replied with a wide grin. 'Parmenion is here. There is no greater warrior in all of Greece — and he's the best general too.'

'You have much faith in him, Iskander. You must admire him greatly.'

'After my father he is the man I love best. Where are you from?'

'I am a Healer. I dwell in a Temple across the sea, near the ruins of Troy.'