Gemmell, David – Lion of Macedon 01

‘And how many men can we bring to the field in nine days?’

‘Gods, Parmenion, are you obsessed with Sparta? We could not consider bringing together an army at this time. If we did, and word reached the conference, how would it be seen? We would be accused of aggressive behaviour and the treaty would come to nothing. Why must you look for treachery at every turn? Perhaps the Spartans have come to terms with the re-emergence of Thebes.’

‘How many men?’ pressed Parmenion. ‘Hypothetically.’

Pelopidas filled his goblet with watered wine and returned to his couch. ‘Perhaps 7,000 – if we could get cavalry from Thessaly. But I’ll be honest with you, Jason of Pherae is as great a cause for fear as the Spartans – perhaps

greater now. His Thessalian cavalry already numbers 20,000 men, and he has at least 12,000 hoplites. I think it is to the north that we must look with trepidation. The Spartans are out of it.’

Parmenion said nothing but sat quietly staring at a point high on the wall, his right hand stroking his chin. After a time he turned his gaze on Pelopidas. ‘There are two points to consider here, my friend. If you are right, then we have nothing to fear. If my fears are confirmed, then all we have fought for will be taken away from us. So, let us assume for a moment that I am right and the Spartan army is closer to us than is thought. Where would they be? How would they be planning to enter Boeotia? We still have a force overlooking the passes of Mount Cithaeron. They would see the Spartans and raise the alarm, yet it is unlikely they would try crossing the Corinthian Gulf, since we now have the twelve battle triremes at Creusis. Where then, Pelopidas – you know the territory?’ Parmenion moved to a chest by the far wall, pulling clear a map of central Greece etched on cowhide. He sat beside Pelopidas, dropping the hide into the Theban’s lap.

Pelopidas drained his wine. ‘I’ll play the game with you, Parmenion, though you are wrong this time. But let me think. We hold the southern passes and all entries from the Peleponnese. We could pin down a Spartan army for months. And, as you say, they could not cross the gulf without a sea battle – unless, that is, they crossed much further north, say here at Agion,’ he said, stabbing the map. ‘Then they would head for Orchomenus and Lake Copais. They would be able to draw allies from the city, strike south-west through Coronea and Thespiae to Thebes herself and, coming from the north, would bar all help from reaching us from Thessaly.’

‘Exactly my point,’ said Parmenion. ‘Most of our troops are south, guarding the passes. But who do we have in the north?’

‘Chaireas with 1,000 hoplites, mostly from Megara and Tanagra. Good fighting men. Solid. They are based at Thespiae.’

‘Send riders to Chaireas, ordering him north to blockade the passes at Coronea. If I am wrong, we can say that Chaireas was merely taking his troops through manoeuvres.’

‘Sometimes,’ said Pelopidas, ‘I do not enjoy your company. My father used to tell stories about dark demons who stole the souls of little boys. Afterwards I would lie in my bed unable to sleep, even though I knew the bastard was only trying to frighten me. I never liked the man. But now you have made me nervous.’ He sighed. ‘I will do as you suggest, but – when you are proved to be wrong – you will give me your new black gelding. How does that sound?’

Parmenion chuckled. ‘Agreed. And if I am proved to be right, you will give me your new shield?’

‘But I sent to Corinth for that shield. It cost me twice what any reasonable man would pay for a horse.’

‘You see,’ observed Parmenion, ‘already you are beginning to consider I may be right.’

Pelopidas grunted. ‘What I will do,’ he said, ‘is ride your gelding up and down outside your gates every morning. Then you will see the cost of your obsession with Sparta.

A week later came disquieting news, though not from the north, where Chaireas had marched to Coronea and fortified a ridge. Calepios returned from Sparta and went straight to the home of Pelopidas. The Theban general heard him out and both men sought Parmenion. They found him on the race-track, pounding out the miles in an effortless lope. Pelopidas waved, beckoning the runner to them.

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