Word of the defeat had reached the city, and there were no crowds to greet the returning soldiers as they marched in formation along Leaving Street to the marble-pillared palace.
'Stay close to me,' whispered Parmenion as the warriors returned to the nearby barracks and he and Leonidas entered the great gates, 'for I have never seen the inside of this place and it would not help our cause if I were to wander off and get lost.'
Leonidas grinned. There are six andron s on the ground floor and the kitchens are ahead of you. Your quarters are up the first flight of stairs and to the right.'
Parmenion nodded and glanced at the luridly painted walls leading to the marble stairs. Battle-scenes were everywhere, filling the hall, and even the mosaic on the floor showed Spartan warriors in battle array. He smiled.
'Sparta does not change,' he said, 'even in another world.'
An elderly servant moved forward and bowed. 'Priastes, whispered Leonidas.
'Welcome home, sire,' said Priastes. 'I have prepared you a bath and some refreshment.' The old man bowed once more and turned to the stairs, Parmenion and Leonidas following. The stairs were lined with statues of spear-carrying Spartan heroes from the past, none of whom Parmenion recognized. Priastes reached the top of the flight and turned right into a wide corridor, opening a door to a series of east-facing rooms. Parmenion stepped inside, following the servant through to a small chamber where a bronze-plated hip-bath had been filled with hot, scented water. The servant unbuckled Parmenion's breastplate and the Spartan swiftly undressed.
The bath was a delight, the heat easing his tired muscles. Priastes poured watered wine into a golden wine-cup, first sipping it before passing it to his King.
'Thank you, Priastes, that will be all,' said Parmenion, lounging down into the bath. The man bowed and left. The new King scrubbed the dust of his travels from his skin and then rose from the bath. Leonidas handed him a towel which Parmenion wrapped around his waist before strolling out to the balcony beyond the main windows. A cool breeze whispered across his wet frame and he shivered. 'That feels good,' he told the Spartan warrior.
'It is always wise to remove the smell of stale sweat and horses before greeting your wife,' said Leonidas carefully.
'Wife? What wife?'
Leonidas took a deep breath. When the seeress Thena allowed him to see Parmenion's life in the other world of Greece, he had observed with sorrow the loss of his love. 'This will not be easy for you, Parmenion. In this world you married my sister, Derae.'
'She is here? In the palace?'
'Of course. But know this: she does not love you. She was to have wed Nestus, but duty came first and she married you to give you a link to the throne.'
Parmenion looked down at his hands; they were trembling. 'I don't think I can do this,' he whispered. 'You cannot know. .'
'I know,' whispered Leonidas. 'Believe me, I know. But we have embarked on a course from which there is no turning back. Be strong, my friend. She will not wish to spend time with you. You will be able to avoid her. Tell yourself that she is not the woman you loved. This is a different world. Now,' he said gently, changing the subject,
'what are your battle plans?'
Parmenion shook his head, trying unsuccessfully to force thoughts of Derae from his mind. 'We will not discuss them in detail. Without Thena here I cannot know whether we are being observed.'
'We have our own seeress, Tamis. She is old, but once her powers were very strong. Shall I order her here?'
'Not yet. If she is gifted, she will know of my. . deception. No. First summon the ephors. I will see them today.
Bring her here in the morning. Now tell me, which of the ephors spoke against the battle with Philippos?'
'Chirisophus and Soteridas. They are very much the leaders of the council. Chirisophus is rich and many men live under his patronage, but Soteridas is also the chief priest at the Temple of Apollo, and it was his reading of the omens that prevented the full army from marching with us.'
'Can you find ten men with open minds and closed mouths?'
'Of course,' answered Leonidas. 'But why?'
'During the meeting I want you to have the houses of Chirisophus and Soteridas searched.'
'What do you expect them to find?'
'I hope to find nothing. But we must consider the possibility that one — or both — may be in the pay of Philippos. You and your men must seek links with the Makedones — letters, Makedones gold. . anything.'
'It shall be as you say.'
'And send out riders to watch for the Makedones army.'
'Yes. . sire.' The handsome Spartan bowed and backed away.
'Leonidas!'
'Sire?'
'I will do my utmost to be worthy of… him.'
'I do not doubt that, my friend. And I will be beside you.'
After Leonidas had gone Parmenion refilled his wine-cup and stood staring out over the eastern quarters of the city.
From here he could see the market-place, where the food-sellers were already setting up their stalls. Several messengers were running along the narrow streets, carrying news of trade convoys or shipments to the merchants.
Beyond the palace street cleaners were sweeping away the debris of yesterday, the sewage that flowed to the streets from the open clay pipes in every house; while high above the city, on the acropolis hill, the statue of Zeus gazed out over the mountains — stern, proud and forbidding.
Just under 40,000 people dwelt here, Leonidas had said, more than half of them slaves or servants. Parmenion's spirits were not high as he considered the coming battle.
It was not enough, he knew, to match the Makedones manpower. His twin had almost done that. No. Quality was the key. . and surprise. But how do you surprise a man who knows what you intend? Was Philippos even now reading his mind?
The thought was not comforting.
The Makedones were coming, but how long before they reached the city? They had fought one battle a few days ago.
It was likely that Philippos would let his troops rest, to enjoy the fruits of victory, the spoils and the plunder. Five days? Three?
He would not consider the Spartans a major threat — not with only 5,000 men. And the addition of a slave army would concern him not at all.
The door behind him opened and the scent of sweet perfume filled the air. He knew instantly who had entered and turned slowly, his heart palpitating, his mouth suddenly dry.
Derae stood before him, dressed in a gown of white bordered with gold. Her red hair was long, drawn back from her face in intricate braids. Her eyes were green, her skin burnished gold. His breath caught in his throat as she approached him. After all these years he was once more face to face with the woman he had loved and lost.
'Derae!' he whispered.
'You shamed Nestus,' she said, her eyes showing her fury, 'and I will hate you for as long as you live!'
Parmenion could not speak, the shock was too great. He felt his legs trembling and backed away from the balcony.
For more than thirty years he had loved this woman. No, he tried to tell himself, not this Derae. But logic was useless against the vision before him. Her face and form had lived in his memory for three decades and the sight of her now unmanned him.
'Well, speak!' she demanded.
He shook his head and lifted the wine-cup, pulling his gaze from her, trying to break the spell.
'Have you nothing to say?'
Anger touched him then, flaring swiftly. 'Nestus is fortunate to be among the living,' he told her. 'And as for your hatred, lady, it will be shortlived. It is likely that we all have but five days to live. If you wish to spend those days with Nestus, go to him; you have my blessing.'
'Your blessing? That is something I have never had. I served your purpose: you wed me to become King, you stole my happiness — and now you give me your blessing. Well, a curse upon it! I do not need it.'
'Tell me what you need,' he said, 'and, if it is within my power, you shall have it.'
'There is nothing you can give me,' she answered, spinning on her heel and striding towards the door.
'Derae!' he called and she stopped, but did not turn. 'I have always loved you,' he said. 'Always.'
She faced him then, cheeks crimson and eyes blazing, but her anger died as she saw his expression. Without replying she backed away and fled the room.
Parmenion moved to a couch and sat, his thoughts sombre.
Soon the old servant, Priastes, returned to the King's quarters and bowed.
'What will you wear today, sire?' he asked.
'I will be garbed for battle,' answered Parmenion.
'Which breastplate do you desire?'
'I do not care,' he snapped. 'You choose, Priastes. Just bring it.'
'Yes, sire. Are you well?' the old man asked.
'Fine.'
'Ah,' said Priastes knowingly, 'but the Queen is angry. The world is falling apart, but the Queen is angry. She is always so — why do you not take another wife, boy? Many kings have several wives. . and she has given you no sons.' The old man obviously had a warm relationship with the King and Parmenion found the open friendliness comforting. He answered without thinking.
'I love the woman,' he said.
'You do?' responded Priastes, astonished. 'Since when? And why? I'll grant she has a fine body and good child-bearing hips. But, by Zeus, she has the foulest temper.'
'How long have you been with me, Priastes?'
'Sire?'
'How long? Exactly?'
'Exactly? You gave me my freedom after the battle at Orchomenus. When was that. . the year of the Griffyn? The time has sped by since.'
'Yes, it has,' agreed Parmenion, none the wiser. 'Have I changed much in that time?'
'No,' said the old man, chuckling, 'you are still the same — shy and yet arrogant, both a poet and a warrior. This war has been hard on you, boy, you look older. Tired. Defeat does that to a man.'
‘I’ll try to see that it doesn't happen again.'
'And you'll succeed,' said Priastes, chuckling. 'All the oracles said you'd die in that battle, but I didn't believe them.
That's my Parmenion, I said. There's no one alive who can beat him. And I know you would have won but for those Kadmians. I hear you dealt with Nestus. About time. How long have I been telling you to do just that? Hmm?'