Dark Prince

'So does my arm — and that is real.'

'Indeed,' agreed the boy, 'and that is precisely what the snakes are — an extension of your body, like arms or legs. They merely look like snakes.'

'Are you not frightened of me?'

'I fear nothing,' lied Alexander, straightening his back and lifting his chin defiantly.

'But you find me monstrous and ugly.'

'I find you fascinating. Why did you choose such a countenance?'

A sound resembling laughter roared from the Forest King. 'I chose it to instil fear in my enemies. It did so. It still does so. But then the war was lost and the losers were. . punished? A spell was cast upon us, forcing us to hold our forms. You, Iskander, will wash away this spell.'

'Are you evil?' asked the boy.

'Of course. We lost. The losers are always evil, for it is the victors who sing the songs that become history. And in these forms they have left us what choices do we have? Look at the Vores! Their touch is death, their breath the plague. How many good works can they accomplish? The victors left us with hate and bitterness in our hearts. They called us evil, and made us evil. Now we live up to their expectations. You believe me?'

'It would be discourteous to admit that I did not,' answered the boy.

'True,' agreed the King, 'but I will allow you one discourtesy.'

'Then I must say that I do disagree. Parmenion says that every man has choices. If what you say is true, then all ugly men would be evil and all handsome men good.'

'Well said, child,' commented the minotaur, Brontes. 'My brother omits to mention that he — and his allies — began the war, bringing death and slaughter to thousands.'

Gorgon rose and shook his head, the snakes hissing and writhing. 'Just when it seemed I could have an intelligent conversation… Ah well, let us not rake over the ashes of history, Brontes. As I recall there were many thousands on both sides who died, brother killing brother. Let it end with the coming of Iskander.'

'I do not believe you will ever let it end, Dionius,' said Brontes sadly. 'It is not in your nature.'

'We shall see, brother. How is our mother? Does she still pine for me?'

A low growl came from Brontes, his fists clenching, the muscles of his shoulders bunching into tight ridges. 'Do not even think of it,' whispered Gorgon, his pale eyes glowing like lanterns.

'Please do not fight,' pleaded Alexander.

'No one is going to fight,' said Parmenion, moving between Brontes and the Forest King. 'We are allies now, against a common enemy. Is that not correct, Brontes?'

'Allies?' hissed the minotaur, shaking his head. 'I cannot bring myself to believe so.'

'You can,' argued Parmenion, 'because you must. This war you speak of was fought eons ago. There must come a time when it can be put aside. Let that time be now. Let it be here in this forest.'

'You have no idea what he did!' stormed Brontes.

'No, I have not. Nor do I need to. It is the way of war to bring out both the best and the worst in the combatants. But the war is over.'

'As long as he lives it will never be over,' said Brontes, turning away and stalking back into the forest. Alexander switched his gaze to the Forest King and thought he saw a look of disappointment, almost sadness on the twisted features. Then the grim, sardonic expression returned.

'Your mission has not begun well, Iskander,' said the King.

'Nothing of worth comes easily,' the boy answered.

'You are a wise child. I could almost like you — were I able to remember what such an emotion feels like.'

'You can remember,' said Alexander, with a bright smile. 'And I like you too.'

* * *

Alexander moved away from the Forest King and saw Camiron standing apart from the monsters who filled the clearing. The centaur was trembling, his front hooves pawing at the ground. The prince walked towards him but Camiron, seeing him, backed away several steps.

'You hurt me,' said the centaur, his huge eyes blinking rapidly.

'It was not me,' said Alexander soothingly, reaching out his hand. 'Did it look like me?'

'Except for the horns,' said Camiron. 'I don't like this place; I don't want to be here.'

'We will be leaving soon,' the boy told him. 'Will you let me ride you?'

'Where will we go?'

'We will find Chiron.'

‘I’ll never find him,' muttered the centaur. 'He has abandoned me. And I will always be alone.'

'No,' said Alexander, stepping close and taking Camiron's hand. 'You are not alone. We will be friends, you and I.

Until we find Chiron.'

The centaur bent his torso forward and whispered, 'This is an evil place. It has always been so. If you get on my back, I will run from here like the wind. I can carry you to the far mountains. They will not catch us.'

'There is evil everywhere, my friend,' Alexander told him, 'and we are safer here than in the mountains. Trust me.'

Camiron said nothing, but fear still shone in his eyes and his flanks trembled. 'You are mighty Camiron,' said the boy suddenly, 'the strongest of centaurs. You fear nothing. You are the fastest, the bravest, the finest of warriors.'

The centaur nodded. 'Yes, yes, I am all those things. I am! I am a great fighter. I am not frightened.'

'I know. We will journey to the sea and then to Sparta. I will ride you and you will protect me.'

'To the sea, yes. Will Chiron be there? Is he close?'

'He is very close. Tell me, where were you when you. . awoke last?'

'It was in a wood, close to the mountains. I heard shouts and screams. It was the Makedones killing the centaurs.

That's when I saw you.'

'Was anything around you when you woke?'

'Just trees and rocks and… a stream, I think. I don't remember going there. I don't remember things very well.'

'The first time I saw you, you had a pouch of leather on a belt. In it there was a golden stone. But you do not have it now.'

'A pouch? Yes. . there was. But I left it behind. The screams startled me. Is it important?'

'No, I just wondered where it was. We will leave soon, but first I must speak with Parmenion.'

The Spartan was deep in conversation with the priestess Thena and Attalus, but when Alexander joined them the group fell silent. 'I need to speak with you,' said the boy.

'Of course,' Parmenion answered, kneeling to face the prince.

'It is about Chiron.'

'I think he is lost to us.'

'No. He is the centaur, Camiron.' Swiftly he told Parmenion of his first meeting with the magus, and how he had become a centaur. 'But now Camiron has lost the magic stone. I don't think he can change back.'

'There is little we can do for him,' said Parmenion, 'save keep him with us. But, more importantly, how are you faring?'

Alexander looked into the Spartan's eyes, reading the concern there. 'I am well. He took me by surprise. The Enchantment in these woods is very strong — and very dark.'

'Do you recall any of it?'

'All of it. In a strange way it was very peaceful. I could see everything and yet I was not in command. I needed to make no decisions. He is very strong, Parmenion. I felt it when his mind reached out and touched the beasts. He brought them to his will instantly.'

'Can you still feel his presence?'

'No. It is as if he is sleeping.'

'Do you have the strength to stop him, should he try to. . control you once more?'

'I think so. But how can I know?'

'Do the best that you can,' advised the Spartan, 'and tell me when he returns.'

'I will. What happens now?'

'The King is going to lead us to the sea. Once there we will find a way to cross the Gulf of Korinthos. . Corinth.