CHAPTER 9
“Do you think you could make a good spy for me?” Philip asked.
I had been summoned into his work room. The trestle table was bare, except for a pile of scrolls in one corner. There were no servants, no wine.
“A spy?” I blurted.
“Why not?” Philip mused aloud, leaning back in his leather sling-chair. “The best spies are men who seem to be part of the background, men who are not noticed by the people they’re spying on. Or women, of course, but that’s something else altogether.”
I stood at attention before him, not knowing what to say.
“Don’t look so miserable, Orion,” the king said with a crooked grin. “I’m not asking you to sneak around and pry into locked rooms.”
“I don’t understand, sir.”
He scratched at his beard. Then, “I am sending Aristotle to Athens as an informal diplomat, to make contact with the men there who are against Demosthenes and in favor of making peace with me. He will need an escort. I would like you to head his escort.”
“Yes, sir,” I replied. “But spying?”
He laughed. “Just keep your eyes and ears open. See everything. Listen to everyone. Remember it all and tell it to me when you return. That’s what spying is.”
I felt relieved. I could do that easily enough. And to leave Pella would mean leaving Olympias and her witch’s spell over me. I felt far more than relieved over that. Philip dismissed me after telling me that Aristotle would depart the following morning. But as I started for the door I realized that this mission would take me away from Alexandros. What of the task Olympias gave me to protect her son?
“By the way,” Philip called before I could reach the door latch. “My son will be going with you. He’s never seen Athens. Neither have I, for that matter.”
I turned back to the king.
“He’ll have a few of his Companions with him. They’ll be travelling incognito—if that young hothead can manage to keep his mouth shut, that is.” He sighed like a worried father. “I want you to take special care of him, Orion. He is the future of this kingdom.”
I must have smiled foolishly, for Philip looked surprised. Then he grinned back at me. As I left him I felt an immense sense of relief. Philip meant no harm to his son. He wanted me to protect Alexandros just as much as Olympias did. And Olympias must have known of this mission to Athens last night. Perhaps it was all her idea, to have her son see Athens, and Philip was just as much of a pawn in her hands as I was. Perhaps I would not be out of her grasp even in distant Athens.
Still, I felt a new sense of freedom once we had left Pella behind us. The crisp air of the open fields and wooded hills was like wine to me. The sky was bright and clean; the intrigues and intricacies of the capital faded away as we rode our mounts along the trail that wound through the rising, rocky countryside.
The trip turned into a travelling school. Aristotle had been Alexandros’ tutor until just about a year ago, and now as we rode our horses across the hills and through the mountain passes heading southward, the gnomish old man became engrossed with every fold of the land, every bird and beast and insect, every blade of grass or burr of thistle.
He sent Alexandros and his Companions scurrying across the countryside collecting samples of everything from grass seeds to rocks. Hephaistion, who seemed especially close to Alexandros, got himself half-killed by wasp stings when he tried to collect a sample of the nest they had constructed in a dead tree. Aristotle tended the lad himself with mudpacks and soothing ointments, all the while telling us that his father had been a physician and had been bitterly disappointed when Aristotle did not follow in his footsteps.
I had expected the old man to travel in one of the wagons, but he rode horseback as the rest of us did. The servants, of course, rode mules. We had hired professional teamsters to handle the ever-increasing number of wagons in our train.