Dark Prince

'The Makedones surprised us. The centaurs are dead — as are my brothers. I managed to reach the forest, but there I was captured. All is lost, Parmenion.'

'What of the boy!'

'Your friend carried him clear — but I don't know if they escaped.'

'I am sorry for your brothers, my friend. I should have led us all into the forest and taken the chance.'

'Do not blame yourself, strategos. And I thank you for speaking for me. Sadly it will delay our deaths only a little while. Gorgon is playing with us, allowing hope to build. At dawn we will see his true evil.'

'He called you brother.'

'I do not wish to speak of it. I will sleep these last hours. It will annoy him dreadfully.' The minotaur sank back to the grass, lowering his huge head to the ground.

'I will tend your wounds,' Parmenion offered.

'No need. They will be healed by the time we face our doom.' Brontes closed his eyes.

Parmenion touched Thena's shoulder and she woke instantly. 'Alexander is lost somewhere. Can you find him?'

'I cannot soar here. The Dark Enchantment is too strong. What will you do?'

Parmenion shrugged. 'I will use my wits to the last and, if that fails, I'll stab the snake-headed bastard through the heart and order his men to surrender.'

'I believe that you would,' she said, smiling.

'Spartan training. Never admit defeat.'

'I too am Spartan,' she said. 'We are a very stupid people.' They both laughed and he put his arm around her.

'Go back to sleep,' he advised, his smile fading. 'I will wake you for the dawn.'

'If you do not object, I would like to sit with you. You can tell me of your life.'

'There is nothing in my life to interest a priestess.'

'Tell me of your first love, how you met. I would like to hear that.'

* * *

The horned child moved to the centre of the clearing and gazed through slitted eyes into the darkness of the forest.

'Come to me!' he called, his voice echoing into the trees. Slowly, one by one, the beasts came forth until they formed a huge circle around him. Attalus stayed close to the centaur, Camiron, who stamped his feet nervously, his brown eyes wide, almost panic-stricken.

'Stay calm,' advised Attalus.

'I am not frightened,' the centaur lied.

'Then stand still, damn you!'

'I want to leave. I will run to the open ground. I cannot breathe here. I need Chiron; I must find him.'

'Wait!' commanded Attalus. 'Do nothing rash. If you run they will drag you down. And, more importantly, me with you.'

More and more creatures filed slowly forward, silently kneeling before Alexander. The stench was appalling and Attains almost gagged. A scaled beast pushed past him, its rough skin grazing the swordsman's arm. But the beasts showed little interest in man or centaur; their eyes were fixed on the Golden Child.

Alexander walked back to Attalus. 'Lift me to the centaur's back,' he said. The swordsman did so and Camiron shifted uneasily. Alexander patted Camiron's shoulder and Attalus saw that his fingernails were now black and pointed. 'Such a puny body,' said the Chaos Spirit, staring at his hands. 'But it will grow. Come, let us find Parmenion. Head south, Camiron.'

'I do not wish to carry you. You are hurting me,' said the centaur.

'Your wishes do not concern me. But you may die here if you desire it.'

Camiron cried out as fresh agony lanced through his frame. 'That is true pain,' said the Chaos Spirit. 'Now move- and slowly. Attalus, you will walk beside me. My servants can smell your blood. It makes them hungry. Stay close to me.'

'Yes, my prince. But where are we going?'

'To war and slaughter. There cannot be two kings in the forest.'

* * *

The sun rose slowly over the trees, but no birds sang. The creatures of Gorgon had remained in two lines before the throne, unmoving, unspeaking, waiting for the dawn. Parmenion stood and stretched. Thena rose with him. Brontes groaned and stirred as the first rays of sunshine touched him. His wounds had healed in the night; now only dried blood remained on his massive torso.

'Now we await Gorgon's pleasure,' whispered Brontes. 'It would be a kind act were you to kill the woman now.'

'No,' said Parmenion softly. 'We'll play out the game to the end.'

'As you wish.'

The trio walked forward between the waiting lines and halted before the throne. Gorgon's huge head lifted, his pale eyes glaring balefully at Parmenion.

'I have given thought to your words, warrior. I find them unconvincing.'

'Naturally,' said Parmenion. 'When one is cursed for so long, a dream is hard to hold. So many disappointments, so much bitterness and hatred. Why should you find it easy to believe?'

'I mean to kill you,' continued the King, as if he hadn't heard. 'I will ensure your death is long in coming.'

'Does this mean that you will accept the offer of Philippos?' asked Parmenion calmly.

'Yes. I will find the child and deliver him to the Makedones King.'

'In return for what? A few women? Sovereignty over the forest? Do you sell yourself so cheaply? Philippos grants you what you already have, and you take it as a gift. What of your people here? What do they get? You turn down their chance of removing the curse upon them. What is there for them?'

'They serve me!' bellowed Gorgon, rising from his throne. 'They will do as I opmmand. You think your sweet words have swayed them? Yes, we are cursed, but there is no Iskander to rescue us. He is a dream, an invention, created by those without the courage to live without hope. But you can serve a purpose, Human. Your screams can amuse us for a little while.'

The lines of monsters began to move, curling around the trio. Brontes gave a low growl and Parmenion drew his sword. Derae stood still, her gaze resting on the Forest King, her spirit reaching out.

'To live without hope,' she said, her voice high and clear and unafraid, 'is not courageous. It is the worst form of cowardice. It means you have given up the struggle. Have you always been such a man, Dionius? Or was there a time when your dreams were golden and the joy of love filled your soul?' Through the waves of bitterness surging from the Forest King she saw, suddenly, the briefest vision — a young woman and a man, hand in hand before the ocean. Then the image was savagely cut off.

'I never knew love!' he roared.

'You lie! There was Persephone!'

Gorgon reeled as if struck, then cried out, his scream high-pitched and chilling. Derae saw it all then, as the gates of Gorgon's memory fell away. The beautiful young woman and the handsome child of the Titans — walking together, laughing, touching, loving. She saw them in many shapes, sea birds, dolphins and other exquisite creatures she could not name. But Persephone was human, and not all the Titan's magic could hold back her final hours when the dark plague swept in from the north.

Gorgon fell to the ground, beating at the earth with his fists. The monsters of the forest stood back, silent and uncertain. Slowly Gorgon rose, the snakes hanging lank and lifeless from his scalp. From his belt he drew a long dagger, its edge serrated, and advanced on Derae.

'Would Persephone enjoy this scene?' she asked.

Gorgon sighed and dropped the knife. 'I will see the child,' he whispered. 'If he is Iskander, I will help you. If he is not, then your screams will last an eternity.'

* * *

For a moment Parmenion stood still, his gaze moving from the tall woman to the snake-headed monster before her.

Then he sheathed his sword. Thena's voice whispered in his mind. 'Do nothing and say nothing,' she urged.

Gorgon turned away from the scene, returning to his throne and slumping upon it with his head in his hands.