Greek Series 02 - Dark Prince

Greek Series 02 - Dark Prince by David Gemmell Read Free Book Online

Book: Greek Series 02 - Dark Prince by David Gemmell Read Free Book Online
Authors: David Gemmell
'Your beauty improves with every year,' he said.
    She nodded. 'The compliment is a pretty one, my friend, but let us talk of more serious matters. Are you out of favour with Philip?'
    'The King says not,' he told her.
    'But that is not an answer.'
    'No.'
    'He is jealous of you,' said Alexander softly.
    The Queen's eyes widened in surprise. 'You should not speak of matters you do not understand,' she chided. 'You are too young to know what the King thinks.' Alexander met her gaze but said nothing, and the Queen looked back at the general. 'You will not leave us, will you?'
    Parmenion shook his head. 'Where would I go, lady? My family are here. I will spend the autumn at my estates; Mothac tells me there is much to do.'
    'How is Phaedra? Have you seen her?' asked Olympias, keeping her voice neutral.
    Parmenion shrugged. 'Not yet. She was well when last I saw her. The birth of Hector was troublesome and she was weak for a while.'
    'And the other boys?'
    The Spartan chuckled then. 'Philotas is always getting into trouble, but his mother spoils him, giving way in everything. Nicci is more gentle; he is only two, but he follows Philo everywhere. He adores him.'
    'Phaedra is very lucky,' said Olympias. 'She must be so happy.'
    Parmenion drained his watered wine and stood. 'I should be riding home,' he said.

    'No! No!' cried Alexander. 'You promised to tell me of the battle.'
    'A promise should always be kept,' said the Queen.
    'Indeed it should,' the general agreed. 'So, young prince, ask me your questions.'
    'How many Macedonian casualties were there?'
    Leaning forward, Parmenion ruffled the child's golden hair. 'Your questions fly like arrows to their target, Alexander.
    We lost just over three hundred men, with around two hundred badly wounded.'
    'We should have more surgeons,' said the boy. 'The dead should not outnumber the wounded.'
    'Most of the dead come from the early casualties,' the Spartan told him. 'They bleed to death during the battle - before the surgeons can get to them. But you are correct in that we need more skilled physicians. I will speak to your father.'
    'When I am King we will not suffer such losses,' the boy promised. 'Will you be my general, Parmenion?'
    'I may be a little old by then, my prince. Your father is still a young man - and a mighty warrior.'
    'I will be mightier still,' promised the child.

*
    The meeting with the Queen and her son disturbed Parmenion as he rode north towards his vast estates on the Emathian Plain. The boy, as all men knew, was possessed, and Parmenion remembered with both fear and pride the battle for the child's soul in the Valley of Hades five years before.
    It was a time of miracles. Parmenion, dying of a cancer in the brain, had fallen into a coma - only to open his eyes to a world of nightmare, grey, soulless, twisted and barren. Here he had been met by the magus , Aristotle, and together with the dead sorceress Tamis had tried to save the soul of the unborn Alexander.
    Conceived on the mystic isle of Samothrace, the child was intended to be the human vessel of the Dark God, Kadmilos, destined to bring chaos and terror to the world. A small victory had been won in the Valley of the Damned. The child's soul had not been destroyed by the evil, but had merged with it, Light and Dark in a constant war.
    Poor Alexander, thought Parmenion. A brilliant child, beautiful and sensitive, yet host to the Spirit of Chaos.
    'Will you be my general, Parmenion?'
    Parmenion had longed to say, 'Yes, my prince, I will lead your armies across the world.'
    But, what if the Dark God won? What if the prince of beauty became the prince of demons?
    The bay gelding crested the last hill before the estate and Parmenion drew rein and sat, staring down at his home.
    The white stone of the great house shone in the sunlight, the groves of cypress trees around it standing like sentries.
    Away to the left lay the smaller houses of the servants and farm-workers and to the right, the stables, paddocks and

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