Gemmell, David – Lion of Macedon 01

‘The world teems with the living,’ the fire woman told her. ‘That is where your friends should be. But if you must talk, then I must listen.’

Tamis nodded and told Cassandra of the shadow in the future, of the coming of the Dark God.

‘What has this to do with you?’ Cassandra asked. ‘It is part of the perennial battle between the Source and the Chaos Spirit.’

‘I can stop the birth, I know that I can.’

‘Stop the . . . what are you saying? You have seen what is to be. How can you change it?’

‘How can you ask that question?’ countered Tamis. ‘You know as well as I that there are a thousand thousand possible futures, all dependent on limitless decisions made by men and women and, aye, even children and beasts.’

‘That is precisely what I am saying, Tamis. You were not given your powers in order to manipulate events; that has never been the way of the Source.’

‘Then perhaps it should have been, snapped Tamis. ‘I have studied hundreds of possible futures. In four, at least, the Dark God can be thwarted. All I needed to do was trace the lines back to the one element that can change the course of history. And I have done that!’

‘You speak of the child Parmenion,’ said the fire woman sadly. ‘You are wrong, Tamis. You should cease your meddling. This matter is beyond you; it is greater than worlds; it is a part of the cosmic struggle between Chaos and Harmony. You have no conception of the harm you can do.’

‘Harm?’ queried Tamis. ‘I know the harm that will be caused should the Dark God live to walk the lands in human form. The mountains will be bathed in blood, the rivers will spout smoke. The earth will be desolate.’

‘I see,’ said Cassandra. ‘And, of course, you alone have the power to stand against this evil?’

‘Do not patronize me! You think I should live as you did, giving prophecies that no one believed? What use were they? What use were you? Begone!’

The fire died down, the face disappearing.

Tamis sighed. Right or wrong the course was set, the lines laid down. Parmenion would be the Warrior of the Light, holding back the darkness.

Do not meddle! Who do they think destroyed the plans of the last Coming more than twenty years ago, when the child was due to be fathered by the Persian King? Who was it that entered the concubine’s mind on the night of conception and made her walk to the top of the tower to fling herself to the stones below?

‘It was I!’ hissed Tamis. ‘I!’

And you were wrong! said a small voice deep in her mind. You are wrong now. Parmenion has his own life to live. It is not for you to alter his destiny.

‘I am not altering it,’ she said aloud. ‘I am helping him to fulfil it.’

He must be allowed choices.

‘I will give him choices. At the cusp moments of his life, I will go to him. I will offer him choices.’

And what if you are wrong, Tamis?

‘I am not wrong. The Dark God must be stopped. He will be stopped. Leave me be!’

In the silence that followed Tamis glared around the squalid room, heavy of heart. With her powers she could have ensured a palace of riches, a life of splendour. Instead she had chosen this.

‘I have made my gifts to the Source,’ she told the room, ‘and the Light is with me in all that I do.’

There was no one to argue, but Tamis was still unsure. She pointed to the blaze and called out a name. A man’s face appeared.

‘Play for me, Orpheus. Let the music ease my heart.’

As the sweet notes of the lyre sounded in the room Tamis moved to her bed, lying back and thinking of the futures she had seen. In three of them the Dark God had been born in Sparta, the ruling city of Greece.

Three possible fathers. Learchus, who could rise to greatness. Nestus, related to the royal family. And Cleombrotus, who would be King.

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