Gemmell, David – Lion of Macedon 01

‘Now that is a weapon you should use,’ he said.

‘Ah, how wise you are. Will I have no secrets from you, Parmenion?’

‘As many as you wish, lady. You are very beautiful and yet intelligent. I think you will continue to captivate the King. But, make no mistake, he is also a man of wit and discernment.’

‘Is that a warning, general?’

‘It is the advice of a friend.’

‘Do you have many friends?’

‘Two. One is Mothac, the other Bernios. Friendship is not a gift I give lightly,’ he said, holding her gaze.

Reaching out, she touched his arm. ‘Then I am honoured. But, is not Philip a friend?’

‘Kings have no friends, lady. They have loyal servants and bitter enemies. Sometimes the two can be interchangeable; it is the mark of the man how well he recognizes this.’

‘You are a fine teacher,’ said Olympias. ‘But one last question, if I may?’

‘As long as it does not touch upon strategy,’ he answered, smiling. For a moment she was silent. The smile had changed his face, making him almost boyish.

‘No, not strategy – at least, not directly. I was wondering about you, Parmenion. What ambitions are there for a man with your reputation?’

‘What indeed?’ he said, rising. Bowing to her, he turned and strolled back to the soldier’s camp-fire, checking on the sentries before allowing himself the luxury of sleep.

*

Back in the carriage Phaedra lay awake, her heart pounding. When Parmenion lifted her she had been jerked from sleep by the power of his spirit. It was too strong to read and she had felt swept away by a sea of images of enormous intensity. But through them all was one overriding vision. It was this which made her heart beat so, which left her mouth dry and her hands trembling.

All her life Phaedra had known of the one way to lose the curse of seeing. Her mother had told her of it.

‘When you give yourself to a man, the powers will wither and die like a winter rose.’

The thought had been so disgusting that Phaedra would sooner keep the curse than surrender it in that way. In truth, the thought was still disgusting – but the rewards! She summoned the vision from memory, watching again the glories of the future.

How could she not take the risk?

Sitting up, she wrapped a shawl around her shoulders and stared at the stars shining bright beyond the carriage window. She could hear Parmenion and Olympias talking by the fire. His voice was soft, almost gentle, yet his words were confident and born of an inner strength.

‘I could grow to love him,’ Phaedra assured herself. ‘I could will it so.’ But she did not believe it. ‘It does not matter anyway,’ she whispered. ‘I do not need to love him.’

She waited until Parmenion had gone, and pretended sleep when Olympias climbed into the carriage. Slowly the hours passed. Steeling herself, Phaedra slipped from the carriage and moved stealthily through the camp seeking out where Parmenion lay; he had made his bed away from the soldiers in a sheltered hollow. As she gazed down on his sleeping form her courage almost fled from her but, steeling herself, she slipped from her dress and lay down beside him, carefully lifting the single blanket over her slender body. For some time she lay still, unable to summon the courage to wake him. But again the vision came to her –

more powerfully than before. Gently her fingers touched the skin of his chest. He was still impossible to read, random scenes pouring over her like a wave and engulfing her senses.

Her hand slid lower, stroking his belly. He groaned in his sleep, but did not wake. Her fingers touched his penis and -for a moment only – she recoiled. Gathering her courage she touched him again, fingers circling him, feeling him swelling under her touch. He awoke then and turned towards her. His right arm moved over her, his hand touching her shoulder, sliding down over her breast.

‘I have you!’ she thought. ‘You are mine! And our son will be the god-King. He will rule the world!’

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