It was grisly work, and costly. Thunderbolt took a spear thrust through his ribs and went down with a hideous shriek, almost pinning me beneath him. I leaped clear and skewered the Theban who had killed him. I saw Alexandros still on Ox-Head, his helmet gone, golden hair flowing in the breeze, hacking at the enemy with a fierce grin pulling his lips back from his teeth. His Companions were scattered through the melee, killing with equal ruthlessness, their swords and sword-arms dripping with hot blood.
A pair of Thebans must have recognized Alexandros’ blond mane, for they pushed their way past the peltasts in front of them and headed for the prince. Coming up behind him they raised their spears simultaneously at his unprotected back.
Unprotected except for me. I had tried to stay as close to Alexandros as I could, but in this awful slaughter the excitement of battle, the passions of fear and blood-lust, and the sheer exhilaration of killing had almost made me lose my head. Almost. I knew somehow that this craving for violence had been built into me by the Creators; I was their instrument of destruction, their Hunter.
But despite the battle-fury that drove me on I saw the two Thebans ready to strike Alexandros from the rear. I was fighting a pair of them myself, both of them protecting themselves from my sword with their big shields, one of them still holding a spear, which he used to keep me at a distance from them.
The spear point seemed to waver in slow-motion before my eyes, almost hypnotically, while the other Theban tried to work himself over to my left side, where he could thrust at me with his bloodied sword.
I had no time to waste on them. I ducked beneath the spear point, rolled to the ground and kicked the spear-wielder in the groin. As he collapsed onto his own shield I jumped to my feet and slammed my shoulder into the shield of the other Theban. He jounced backward a step and I dashed off toward the men who were about to kill Alexandros.
I could not close the distance in time. So I threw my sword as hard as I could as I yelled, “Alexandros! Behind you!”
My sword point went completely through the nearer Theban’s shoulder. He screamed and the spear dropped from his paralyzed fingers as his companion jabbed his own weapon at Alexandros. But the young prince had turned slightly at my shouted warning and the spear point slid across the belly of his bronze cuirass harmlessly as Alexandros raised his sword and brought it down on the Theban’s neck hard enough to take his head almost completely off his shoulders. Blood geysered as the man gasped his death agony.
I had reached the other Theban by then. He had fallen almost beneath Ox-Head’s shuffling hooves. Wrenching my sword from his shoulder, I plunged it into his throat. He died with a look of surprise on his face.
Philip’s phalanxes reached us then, marching up in good order to dispatch the last of the Sacred Band.
The king rode up just behind his phalanxes and went straight to Alexandros. Looking him over with his one good eye, Philip broke into a tired smile.
“Not a scratch on you!” He seemed pleased. “Not even on Ox-Head. The gods must work overtime protecting you.”
Alexandros smiled back as if he had received nothing more than his due. If he realized that I had saved his life he made no mention of it.
I stood, panting and suddenly very weary, on grassy ground made slippery with blood and entrails. All around me the field was littered with corpses and the writhing, moaning bodies of the wounded. The battle was over. Now some of the troops were moving among the wounded, giving them the final merciful dagger in the throat. Others were stripping the dead of their arms and armor.
Ignoring the men, I staggered across the battlefield looking for Thunderbolt. Philip’s strategy had worked almost perfectly. The enemy commanders had known that cavalry could not attack a well-formed line of spears. So Philip had induced the Athenian citizen-soldiers to break ranks and ruin the solidarity of their line. Then our cavalry could destroy their foot soldiers, and we did. But it had cost me a valiant steed.
Thunderbolt was already dead when I found him, the spear still sticking in his flank. I hoped that he had not suffered too much, then found it ludicrous that I cared more for this horse than for all the men who had fallen.
I began to laugh, at myself, at the folly of men who slaughter one another, at the so-called gods to whom men pray. If they knew that the gods were nothing more than selfish humans like themselves, what would they do? How would they re-order their lives if they rejected the gods they worshiped?
I had to get off by myself. Slowly, painfully I climbed the steep hill of Chaeroneia’s acropolis. The sun was going down behind the distant mountains, and from the steps of the temple atop the hill I could see the entire battlefield in the long shadows of the setting sun. Thousands of bodies lay strewn like broken toys the breadth of the field.
“Are you pleased?” I muttered. “Is this the kind of human sacrifice that you enjoy watching?”
Turning to the temple, I climbed its steps and entered its shadowed interior. Statues of gods loomed around me: Zeus, Ares, Apollo, Poseidon.
“You made me part of this,” I said to them. “You created me to kill my fellow men. I hate you! I hate all of you! For making me in the first place, for using me as a puppet, a tool, a toy. All I want is to get out, to get off this wheel of life, to find the final peace of oblivion.”
And I knew that I had to learn from Ketu how to seek that ultimate death.
The statues remained silent and cold. The sun dipped behind the mountains and the temple became utterly dark. Yet my eyes adjusted to the darkness; I could still make out the statues, their aloof faces, their blankly staring eyes. Yes, there was Hera, proud and cruel. And Aphrodite, sensuousness personified.
And Athena, with a warrior’s helmet and a spear in her hand. She too was lifeless, inanimate marble. As distant from me as the pale cold moon.
Yet I thought I heard her voice within my mind, saying, “Be brave, Orion. Bear the pain.”
No, I thought. Not even for you. I can’t bear this pain any longer. If there is a way out of life, I want to find it.
CHAPTER 16
It was full dark as I made my way back down to the camp that Philip had set up on the battlefield. Men were still carrying the bodies of the slain to the funeral pyres dotting the plain; others were stacking the armor and weapons they had collected.
Pausanias cast a baleful eye at me as I showed up before the cook fire in front of his tent.
“Where’ve you been, Orion? The king assigned you to young Alexandros; you don’t have leave to wander wherever you choose.”
“I was communing with the gods,” I said drily.
“Never mind that,” he snapped. “Your post is at Alexandros’ side. Find him and stay with him.”
“Yes, sir.”
He softened somewhat. “I hear you did well in the battle. Have something to eat before you go on duty again.”
I was not hungry, but I thanked him and sat by the fire. Women camp-followers had shown up, and one of them was cooking for us. She was middle-aged, missing several teeth, but some of the guardsmen were already ogling her. After a bit more wine she would look ravishing.
I gnawed on a leg of goat, took a cup of wine, and then went to the river to clean the blood and grime of battle off me. Within the hour I was presentable enough to report for duty. I went searching for Alexandros.
All of the generals, I was told, were at Philip’s tent, enjoying the fruits of victory. Alexandros was considered a general now. He had commanded the cavalry that had struck the crushing blow of victory.
There was much wine at Philip’s tent. And the women pouring it were young and slim and smiling. Alexandros sat in a corner of the tent, his wine cup untouched on the ground beside his chair. Parmenio was lurching after one of the young wine pourers. Antipatros snored loudly on his chair, head thrown back and arms hanging almost to the ground.
Philip was joking with Antigonos and a few of the younger officers. Alexandros’ Companions were nowhere in sight.
I went to the prince. “I am reporting for duty, sir.”
He gave me a wan smile. “I won’t need a bodyguard this night, Orion. I’m more in danger from boredom than anything else.”