Gemmell, David – Lion of Macedon 01

‘//the Spartans come,’ replied Parmenion, putting aside the scroll.

‘How can you remain so calm?’ Mothac snapped.

‘By using my mind – and not my emotions,’ replied Parmenion. ‘Listen to me. Sparta’s armies are not trained for sieges, they prefer battle on an open plain. A phalanx cannot climb a wall. I do not believe Cleombrotus will attack the city; he will hope that our forces can be lured out, and he will seek to prevent supplies coming into Thebes.’

Mothac was unconvinced, and ill-fortune continued for the beleaguered Thebans. The Athenian mercenaries had been beaten back from Erythrae, and Cleombrotus marched through Aegosthena and Plataea, his army now almost in sight of Thebes.

Pelopidas wanted to gather a force to attack them, but cooler counsel prevailed. Then came the news Parmenion had been hoping for. With winter making manoeuvres more difficult, Cleombrotus split his army and marched south, back through Aegosthena, Megara and Corinth, leaving a large force at Thespiae under the command of the general Sphodrias.

Parmenion sought out Epaminondas and Pelopidas. ‘Now is the time to act,’ he said. ‘By spring Agisaleus will be fit to command the army, and that will lead to an attack on Thebes.’

‘What can we do?’ Pelopidas asked. ‘My stomach turns at the thought of sitting idle. But what choices do we have?’

‘We must capture a messenger, a Spartan rider.’

‘One messenger! This is your plan?’ snorted Pelopidas. ‘This will bring about Spartan defeat?’

Parmenion looked into the man’s dark eyes and chuckled. The time will come for warriors like yourself – trust me, Pelopidas. This single man is like the stone which starts the landslide. But it is vital that he is taken; he must be stripped of armour and clothing, his body buried where it will not be found. Everything he carries must be brought here.’

‘It sounds easy enough,’ Pelopidas muttered.

‘Then I will make it more difficult. The killing must not be seen: his disappearance must remain a mystery.’

‘Well, at least his messages may prove useful,’ the Theban said.

‘Not even that,’ said Parmenion. ‘The Spartans must have no idea that we have intercepted them.’

‘Then would you kindly outline the point of this exercise?’ asked the Theban.

Parmenion glanced at Epaminondas, who nodded. ‘I shall take the place of the messenger,’ said Parmenion, ‘and ride to Sphodrias at Thespiae. But this is to be known only by we three.’

‘It will be as you say,’ promised Pelopidas. ‘I will send out riders to watch all roads to Thespiae.’

*

Parmenion walked back through the night-cloaked city. He felt tense and excited, and as he passed the Temple to Aphrodite he remembered the red-headed priestess. Stopping by the marble fountain he gazed at the temple, feeling the stirrings of desire deep in his loins. Checking his money sack, he strolled into the temple precincts and along the corridor. The hour was late, but lantern light could be seen under the woman’s door; he put his ear to the wood, listening for sounds of movement, but there were none and he knocked softly. He heard the creaking of the bed as she rose. The door opened.

He held out his money and was surprised to see her smile. ‘I am happy you are recovered,’ she said.

‘I do not wish you to speak!’ he snapped. The smile froze on her lips, then her cheeks darkened.

‘Take your money and go!’ she said, slamming the door in his face. For a moment Parmenion stood shocked; then he backed away and returned home to the cold comfort of his bed. The meeting with the woman had disturbed him. She knew he required her to say nothing; he had been with her scores of times. He would pay her, satisfy his lust and leave. It was a simple business. Why then had she broken the rules?

As he had stood in the doorway her perfume had washed over him, filling his senses. And in her face, as he reprimanded her, there had been shock, surprise and a

bun he could not understand. He felt an almost physical need to seek her out and apologize. But for what? How had he offended her?