THERE IS A river running through the tent and the straw has floated away on it. In the middle of the night they find a dryer spot under one of the carts but they are barely settled when they are kicked awake again by one of Alexander’s sergeants. He wears a savage expression as if he has come to make an arrest.
‘What is this about?’ Gajendra grumbles, trying to keep fear out of his voice.
‘Alexander wants you – now.’ These Macks; it is clear he would rather slap him with his sword than be his escort. ‘Where’s the other one? The pretty boy?’
‘He’s over there.’
‘Bring him.’
‘What’s happening?’ Mara mumbles.
‘We’re going to see Alexander.’
‘We?’
‘Hurry up, he doesn’t like to be kept waiting.’
Mara leaps to her feet and falls into step.
The rain has eased off a little. ‘Make yourself useful,’ Gajendra says. ‘Carry the torch.’
They splash through the mud. Gajendra wonders what it could be. He hopes it’s not about Catharo and the four soldiers he cut up. Or perhaps it’s Nearchus, has he been killed on his foray against the raiders? His heart lurches between dread and hope.
Alexander is in his cups. He cannot sleep and is prowling his pavilion, agitated and nasty. ‘Who is this?’ he says pointing to Mara.
‘He’s the slave who saved the captain of the elephants,’ the sergeant says. ‘You asked to see him.’
He brightens, remembering his whim. ‘Ah. So you’re the fine fellow who saved my Indian?’
He stands close. He holds out his hand and a slave brings him another cup of wine. There is a shadow on their king’s face. His lips are wet. His concentration is intense, like he is trying to see through billowing smoke.
‘You’re not long off your mother’s teat, I should venture. One of his waterboys, are you? A fetcher and carrier? Or a dung pusher. In more ways than one by the look of you.’ He takes Mara by the shoulders and pushes him to his knees. ‘Kiss the royal foot.’
To Gajendra’s surprise, Mara does it.
‘What’s a dung lark doing killing cavalry?’ He turns to Gajendra. ‘Where did you get him from, elephant boy?’
‘Carthage, my lord.’
‘Saved him from being filleted, did you?’ He hauls Mara back to his feet. ‘I heard you showed great valour. I am curious, why did you do it? What did it matter to you whether my elephant boy lives or dies?’
‘I was trying to protect the elephant.’
Alexander makes a murmur, something between surprise and admiration. Mara has his complete attention now; this is something he has not considered.
‘I have grown fond of him.’
Alexander drinks and the wine runs down his chin. He snaps his fingers and the royal cupbearer dashes from the shadows with a cloth to dab at it. ‘Extraordinary. How do you grow fond of such an ugly creature?’
‘They are much like horses. They have valour and loyalty.’
He looks at Gajendra. ‘Is he mocking me?’
‘It is true.’
He grunts and sways. Gajendra wonders at his little dung lark, and why he still stands so close to Alexander like this. Surely he doesn’t intend to kiss him? He wouldn’t put it past either of them.
He thinks for a moment that his king will raise a hand to stroke the boy’s face. They hold the moment for long enough that Gajendra feels an unnatural pang. He does not wish to share his slave with anyone, even his commander. This unnatural jealousy takes him quite by surprise.
Then his general smiles, smacks his lips to taste the residue of the wine, and turns away.
‘And you, elephant boy.’ He turns his back on Mara so that he is facing his captain of the elephants. ‘I’ve been watching you. You fancy yourself in a fight, don’t you?’
‘Yet you chose me because I know elephants.’
‘You’re an impudent creature. How did you feel after Carthage when Nearchus got all the credit for your efforts?’
‘Did he? I didn’t know.’
‘Of course you knew. I saw your face. You were steaming about it.’ Another gulp of wine. ‘You did well today. As I hear it you organized the defence of the elephants on your own and you had them beaten by the time Nearchus came down the line. I think it’s why he chased them, he was late for the glory and was rushing to catch up with it. But he’s a popular fellow, you know. Among the troops.’
‘He seems brave enough.’
‘Too slippery for my liking.’ Over Alexander’s shoulder, he can see Mara step closer. He wonders why and is alarmed by it. ‘You still want his wife, don’t you?’
‘Not just his wife. I want his horse and his commission too.’
Alexander laughs, delighted. ‘You’re too arrogant by half. You remind me of myself at your age. Except I have royal blood and you have… well, you’re just a gyppo, aren’t you?’
‘Yes, my lord.’
‘But you did well. I could have lost a lot more of my tuskers if you had not reacted so quickly.’
Gajendra tries to make out the look on Mara’s face. If Alexander were to step back right now he would step on his dung lark’s toes.
‘I have underestimated you.’
‘I don’t mind that. It’s happened before.’
His breath is on his face, sour with wine. ‘You are hoping Nearchus does not come back, aren’t you?’
It shocks him that Alexander can so plainly divine his thoughts.
‘What happened to you, boy?’
‘Happened to me?’
‘Something impels you. What is it?’
‘Ambition. Like every man.’
‘No, it’s more than that. If you lie, I’ll know.’
Gajendra feels cornered. He doesn’t know what to say to wriggle out of this.
‘Where are your family?’
‘They died.’
‘Of what?’
‘It was a fever. Half my village died from it.’
‘And where were you?’
‘I was lucky.’
‘No, that’s not it. There’s something else.’ Gajendra drops his eyes and Alexander grabs him by the chin and forces him to look up. ‘Isn’t there?’
Finally his general turns away. Mara steps back, just in time. For Alexander this is enough now. He has grown bored with them both. He needs someone else to entertain him until the wine knocks him out for a few hours.
His cupbearer splashes more wine in his cup. He gulps. It spills down his white tunic like blood. ‘In two days we will stand before Syracuse. Do well and I will give you the world. Everything you ever dreamed of. It’s all up to you now, elephant boy.’
The next morning Mara finds Catharo in a tent with the rest of the wounded from the previous day’s skirmish; he is sitting up, even trying to stand, cursing the wound in his leg. A bloodied bandage is wrapped from his knee to his groin and he is shooing the flies off it.
He sees her and looks irritated. ‘May I have my knife back?’
She reaches under the tunic where she has hidden it and slides it back to him.
‘How did you know it was me?’
‘I may not have had my own private tutor, as some, but I am not stupid. If you ever have to take to the streets, princess, you will make a fine pocket thief. When did you do it?’
‘When you were lying on the battlefield.’
‘I underestimated you.’
‘A lot of people do. Mainly the men in my life.’
‘Where’s the elephant boy?’ His eyes watch for a reaction. It seems he cares less about how she answers than if she can hold his gaze.
‘He has taken the elephants to the river with the others.’
‘Why aren’t you with them?’
‘I slipped away to see how you were.’
‘I’m touched.’ He taps the place where his knife is now hidden. ‘Have you slaughtered Zeus’s favourite son yet?’
She shakes her head.
‘I hear you went to his tent.’ He sees her wriggle and then smiles. ‘You couldn’t do it, could you?’
‘I couldn’t get close enough.’
He laughs at this. ‘You were in his pavilion. How close do you need to be? Do you want to share his bath before you murder him?’
‘I killed a man yesterday.’
‘Yes, and I invaded Italy.’
‘He had Gajendra on his knees. Did you not see me?’
‘So you say. All I saw was you running towards the elephant.’
She cannot believe he had not seen it. ‘Ask anyone.’
‘You don’t have the balls to kill Alexander, princess.’
‘Keep your voice down!’ She looks over her shoulder. These men look like they are unconscious but it doesn’t mean they really are.
‘So, are you serious about this?’
‘I thought you were pledged to protect me.’
‘I’ve been thinking about what you said. You’re right. Someone has to stop him, and he must pay for what he has done to our city and to your father, may he forgive me. But it’s not a job for a woman, especially a pale little wonder like you.’
‘You can’t even walk. How can you do such a thing?’
‘It’s just a muscle wound. It’s a bit stiff but the bone’s not broken. You think I haven’t had worse? I’ll be up and about soon enough.’
There is not much of the little fellow but the attitude on him would make a thirty-year veteran look like a milksop. Nothing soft in this one, he has never wanted pity for his condition or shown any for anyone else’s. Except her father, perhaps. Him he loved. She wonders what it is that has kept Catharo bound to him all these years.
‘You know what they’ll do to you if you succeed?’
‘It was your idea, princess.’ He makes a stabbing motion, underhand, twists the knife, then holds it to his own throat and draws it across the veins. ‘There, that’s how it’s done. One stroke for him, one stroke for me, and we both go to Hades together, and we’ll carry on with it there if he wants. But first I get you out of here, so there’s no music for you to face. If you think you can kill a man, then you can walk to Panormus.’
‘We should do it together.’
‘It’s my way or not at all. I have been knocked cold and run through twice so far on your account, but this I do for him.’ He is sweating with pain and he sits down again. ‘You were his whole heart, do you know that?’
She did know it; perhaps she had just chosen to ignore it.
‘Your father did not know the trouble he would put me through when he gave me this commission. In the circumstances, a bloody end is inevitable.’
‘I am sorry, Catharo. I have given you little enough grati tude until now.’
‘If you want to repay me, then honour your father in your prayers. He was a better man than you gave him credit for.’
‘You don’t like me much, do you?’
‘It’s not for me to have an opinion either way on the matter.’
The physician comes in and pushes Catharo back onto his blanket and tells him to keep still, does he not know he has a fever and not enough blood left in him to fill a night jar?
Mara slips away. The sun should be climbing the sky by now but there are still thunderclouds around the mountains and more rain sweeping down the valleys. There is a rumour about the camp that this is Zeus come to help them. She imagines it was Alexander who started it.
The camp is in motion. The Macks look dark. Fighting Celts and Africans is one thing; soon they must make war on their own.