Free Greek Series 02 - Dark Prince by David Gemmell

were driving him mad!'
    But the Thessalians were no longer in earshot. They had gathered around the body of their friend Croni, lifting him and carrying him back towards the main house.

*
    The death of the stallion left Parmenion's spirits low. Never had he seen a finer horse, nor one with such an indomitable spirit. But worse than this, the slaying of Titan made him think of the child, Alexander.
    Here was another beautiful creature, possessed by evil. Intelligent -perhaps brilliant - and yet cursed by a hidden malevolence. An awful image leapt to his mind: the child lying dead with fat, pale maggots crawling across his lifeless eyes.
    Forcing the vision from his thoughts, he toiled alongside the men as they cleared the fields, helping them rope the young horses, getting them accustomed to the needs of Man.
    Towards midday the Spartan wandered out to the lake where Mothac was exercising lame or injured mounts. The men had built a floating raft of timbers which was anchored at the centre of a small lake, a bowshot's length from the water's edge. A horse would be led out into the water, where he would swim behind the boat leading him until the raft was reached. Once there the lead rope would be thrown up to Mothac who would encourage the horse to swim around the raft. The exercise built up a horse's strength and endurance, while putting no strain on injured muscles or ligaments. Mothac, his bald head covered by an enormous felt hat, was walking the perimeter of the raft, leading a bay mare who struggled in the water alongside.
    Removing his tunic Parmenion waded out into the cold water, swimming slowly towards the raft, his arms moving in long, lazy strokes. The cool of the lake was refreshing, but his mind was full of awful images: maggots and eyes, beauty and decay.
    Hauling himself up to the raft he sat naked in the sunshine, feeling the cool breeze against his wet body. Mothac summoned the boat, throwing the lead rope to the oarsman.

    'That's enough for today,' he shouted. The oarsman nodded and led the mare back to dry land. The old Theban sat beside Parmenion, offering him a jug of water.
    'That hat looks ridiculous,' remarked Parmenion.
    Mothac grinned and pulled the floppy hat from his head. 'It's comfortable,' he said, wiping sweat from the rim and covering his bald dome once more.
    Parmenion sighed. 'It's a shame he had to die,' he said.
    'The horse or the man?' snapped Mothac.
    Parmenion smiled ruefully. 'I was talking of the horse. Though you are correct, I should have been thinking of the man. But Titan must have been in great pain; those maggots were eating his brain. I find it obscene that such a magnificent beast should have been brought low by such vile creatures.'
    'He was only a horse,' said Mothac. 'But I shall miss Croni. He had a family in Thessaly. How much shall I send?'
    'Whatever you think fit. How have the men taken his death?'
    'He was popular,' Mothac answered. 'But they are hard men. You impressed them with your ride.' He chuckled suddenly. 'By Heracles, you impressed me!'
    'I will never see another horse like him,' said Parmenion sadly.
    'I think you might. The foal is the image of his sire. And he will be big - he has a head like a bull.'
    'I saw him in the stables last night - with his dead mother. Not a good omen for the son of Titan - his first act in life to kill his dam.'
    'Now you are sounding like a Thessalian,' Mothac admonished him. The Theban drank deeply from the water-jug and leaned back on his powerful forearms. 'What is wrong between you and Philip?'
    Parmenion shrugged. 'He is a King is search of a glory he does not wish to share. I cannot say I blame him for that.
    And he has the lickspittle Attalus to whisper poison in his ear.'
    Mothac nodded. 'I never liked the man. But then I never liked Philip much either. What will you do?'
    The Spartan smiled. 'What is there to do? I will fight Philip's battles until he decides he has no more need of me.
    Then I will come here and grow