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

pastures to house Parmenion's growing herd of war-horses.
    The general shaded his eyes, scanning the grounds of the great house. There was Phaedra, sitting by the fountain with Philo and Nicci beside her, little Hector in her arms. Parmenion's heart sank. Swinging his horse to the east he rode down onto the plain, skirting the great house and angling towards the stable buildings.

*
    Mothac sat in the hay stroking the mare's long neck, whispering words of comfort. She grunted and struggled to stand. Mothac rose with her.
    'No movement yet,' said his assistant, Croni, a wiry Thessalian who stood at the rear waiting to assist the birth of the foal.
    'Good girl,' Mothac whispered to the mare. 'You'll do right. This is not the first, eh, Larina? Three fine stallions you have borne.' Stroking the mare's face and neck, he ran his hands along her back and moved alongside the Thessalian.
    The mare had been in labour now for several hours and was weary to the point of exhaustion. The old Theban knew it was unusual for a birth to be so delayed. Most mares foaled swiftly with few problems.

    Always in the past Larina had delivered with speed, her foals strong. But this time they had covered her with the Thracian stallion, Titan, a huge beast of more than seventeen hands.
    The mare grunted once more and lay down. Pushing Croni aside, Mothac gently eased his hand inside her, his fingers feeling for the water-sac.
    'Be careful, master,' whispered the Thessalian. Mothac grunted and swore at the man, who chuckled and shook his head.
    'Yes! It's coming. I can feel the feet.'
    'Front or back?' asked Croni nervously. A breech birth, both men knew, would likely see the foal born dead.
    'I can't tell. But it's moving. Wait! I can feel the head. By Zeus, it's big.' Easing his hand back Mothac stood and stretched. For the last two years his spine had been steadily stiffening, his shoulders becoming arthritic and painful.
    'Fetch some grease, Croni. I fear the foal is tearing her apart.'
    The Thessalian ran back to the main house, reappearing minutes later with a tub of animal fat, mostly used for the painting of hooves, to prevent sand-cracks and splitting. Mothac took the tub and smelt it.
    'This is no good,' he grunted. 'It's almost rancid. Get some olive oil -and be quick about it!'
    'Yes, master.'
    He returned with a large jug in which Mothac dipped his hands, smearing the oil inside the mare, around the head and hooves of the foal. The mare strained once more and the foetal sac moved closer.
    'That's it, Larina, my pet,' said Mothac. 'A little more now.'
    The two men waited beside the mare for some time before the sac appeared, pale and semi-translucent. The foal's front legs could just be seen within the membrane.
    'Shall I help her, master?' Croni asked.
    'Not yet. Give her time; she's an old hand at this by now.'
    The mare grunted and the sac moved further into view - then stopped. Bright blood spouted over the membrane, dripping to the hay. The mare was sweating freely now, and in some distress as Mothac moved to the rear and gently took hold of the foal's front legs, easing them towards him. At any time now the membranes would burst, and it was vital the foal's head should be clear, otherwise it would suffocate. Mothac pulled gently while the Thessalian moved to the mare's head, talking to her, his voice low, coaxing and soft.
    With a convulsive surge the sac came clear, dropping to the hay. Mothac peeled away the membranes from around the foal's mouth and nostrils, wiping the body with fresh hay. The new-born was a jet-black male, the image of its sire down to the white starburst on its brow. It lifted its head and shivered violently.
    'Aya!' exulted Croni. 'You have a son, Larina! A horse for a king! And such a size! Never have I seen a bigger foal.'
    Within minutes the foal tried to stand and Mothac helped it to its feet, guiding it towards the mare. Larina, though exhausted, also rose, and after several unsuccessful attempts the