Dark Prince

'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?'

'Too long. Now fetch my armour — and then let me know when the ephors arrive.'

Priastes wandered away into a back room, emerging with a cuirass of baked black leather, edged with gold, and a kilt of bronze-reinforced leather strips. 'Will these suffice?'

'Yes. Bring me some food while I dress.'

'May I ask a favour, boy?'

'Of course.'

'Leonidas says you are asking every able-bodied man — including slaves — to take up swords in defence of the city.

Well, what about me? I'm only seventy-three and I am still strong. I'll stand beside you.'

'No,' answered Parmenion. 'The older men will be left to defend the city.'

Priastes stood his ground, his expression hardening. 'I would like to be with you… on the last day.'

Parmenion looked into the old man's grey eyes. 'You think I will die?' he asked softly.

'No, no,' answered Priastes, but he would not meet the King's gaze. 'I would just like to be there to share the glory of victory. I never had a son, Parmenion, but I've looked after you for nearly fifteen years. And I love you, boy. You know that?'

'I know. Then it will be as you say: you will come with me.'

'Thank you. Now I'll find some food for you. Cakes and honey? Or would you prefer some salted meat?'

* * *

While Priastes fetched the food Parmenion dressed, then wandered to the balcony. The Parmenion of this world had been a good man, he realized, caring and patient. Why else would he allow his servants to address him so informally? Why else would he have tolerated the insubordination of Nestus? Now an old man wanted nothing more than to die beside the man he loved. Parmenion sighed. 'You were a better man than I,' he whispered, staring up at the cloud-streaked sky.

Below the balcony and beyond the palace walls Sparta was beginning to stir. Slaves were moving towards the market-place and shops were opening, merchants displaying their wares on trestle-tables.

So like his own city, he thought. But here there was no Xenophon and no Hermias, he realized suddenly. His only friend in the Sparta of his own world, Hermias, had stood by him when all others felt only hatred and contempt for the mix-blood. Hermias, who had died at Leuctra, fighting on the opposite side.

'The ephors are ready, sire,' said Leonidas.

'Let him eat first,' snapped Priastes, moving in behind the Spartan officer.

Leonidas grinned. 'Like a she-wolf with her young,' he commented.

'Watch your tongue, boy, lest this old man cut it out for you,' retorted Priastes, setting a silver tray down before the King. Parmenion ate swiftly, washing down the honey-cakes with heavily-watered wine. Dismissing Priastes, he turned to Leonidas.

'I will not know the ephors,' he said, 'so I want you to greet them by name.'

'I will. And the men I have chosen are already on their way to the homes of Chirisophus and Soteridas. I will join them once the meeting is under way.'

'If you find anything incriminating, return to the palace and the discussions. Do not say anything, merely point at the guilty.'

'It will be as you say.'

'Good. Now lead me to the meeting.'

The two men walked from the King's quarters and down the statue-lined staircase to a long corridor. Servants bowed as they passed, and the sentries in the royal gardens stood to attention as the two men strolled across the grounds.

They came at last to a set of double doors before which stood two soldiers, armed with spear and shield. Both warriors saluted, then laid aside their spears and pushed open the doors.

Parmenion stepped through into a huge andron. Couches were set around the walls and the floor was decorated with a magnificent mosaic showing the god, Apollo, riding an enormous leopard. The god's eyes were sapphires, the leopard's orbs fashioned from emeralds. Twelve columns on each side supported the roof, and the furniture was inlaid with gold. The six ephors rose as Parmenion entered. Leonidas moved among them and Parmenion listened as he spoke their names.

'Dexipus, I swear you are getting fatter day by day. How long since you attended the training ground, eh?. . Ah, Cleander, any news yet of the shipment? I am relying on it to pay my gambling debts. . What's that, Lycon?

Nonsense, I was just unlucky with the dice. I will win it back.'

Parmenion said nothing but moved to the large couch at the northern wall, stretching himself out and listening intently to the conversation. A man approached him — tall and broad-shouldered, wearing a simple blue tunic and a belt of black leather edged with silver thread. His hair was iron-grey, his eyes astonishingly blue.

'I am pleased to see you alive, sire,' he said, his voice deep and cold.

Leonidas moved alongside the man. 'We were also more than thankful, Soteridas,' he said. 'For had the King not caused the avalanche none of us would be here.'

'I heard of it,' said Soteridas, 'but it was such a small victory to set against so vast a defeat.'

'Indeed it was,' agreed Parmenion softly, locking his gaze to the man's eyes. 'But then defeat was assured, was it not, Soteridas?'

'What do you mean, sire?'

'Did you not predict it? Did you not claim the omens were against us? Now, enough idle talk, let us begin!'