God of War: The Epic Story of Alexander the Great

God of War: The Epic Story of Alexander the Great by Christian Cameron Page A

Book: God of War: The Epic Story of Alexander the Great by Christian Cameron Read Free Book Online
Authors: Christian Cameron
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– at least, I assumed he was the chief, although he looked like a brigand with some gold pins – came and squatted by me.
    ‘So,’ he said. ‘You killed Tarxes’ boy. He wants to skin you.’ The brigand chief grinned. He was missing a great many teeth, and others were broken, blackened stumps. I was somewhere in a haze of pain between consciousness and unconsciousness. ‘You look like a noble brat to me, boy. And you have one of my swords on you. Tell me. Who are you?’
    I’d like to say I was brave, but all I could do was mewl, spit and scream. The rawhide straps cut off all circulation to my legs but left plenty of feeling in my unset broken arms.
    Broken Teeth watched me for a while. Then he took my eating knife out of his belt and rammed it through my bicep. ‘Talk, boy,’ he said.
    I fainted. Thank the gods.
    They unstrapped me and threw me into the icy stream at the foot of the ridge. So much for fainting. I couldn’t swim. I couldn’t even float. It occurred to me that the best thing I could do was fill my lungs with water and go down, but they hauled me clear, and anyway, I’m not sure I had the nerve.
    It is a funny thing, but when you are tortured, you are a different person. Weaker, with no pride and no self. And yet you want to live. That’s the hold they have over you. The desire to live.
    They knew quite a bit. They made the mistake of talking about it. They knew it was Alexander with the hunting party.
    As soon as I heard that, I knew that one of the lowland lords was playing at regicide. Alexander was the king’s only heir.
    That thought gave me power. Gave me back my self. Instead of being human garbage ready for sacrifice, I went back to being a royal page who had a master to protect.
    See this, lad? That’s where they cut my right nipple off my breast. Oh, yes. That’s all scar tissue.
    They enjoyed themselves. But they weren’t as good as, say, a Persian torturer.
    I screamed out my name. Several hundred times. It was the only thing I’d say, but I must have said it quite a bit, because I can actually remember when no sound came out at all – just the shrill sound of vocal cords wrecked by overuse.
    It would have been nice if I’d passed out again, but I didn’t and they tied me to a tree. Blood is sticky and cold. I was in shock, of course, and I shook so badly it hurt my arms. Shall I go on? Men came and beat me – quite casually. A fist in the face, a couple of kicks – they must have cracked every rib.
    I’m trying to shock you, boy, and that’s unkind. On the other hand, you have the satisfaction of knowing that since I’m here wearing the crown of Aegypt, I must have survived, eh?
    As darkness fell, half of them rode away west under Broken Teeth. The other half bedded down, with two alert and well-concealed sentries. Tarxes came and put his eating spike into my left hand and pulled it out a couple of times. See the scars?
    Then he went off to check the sentries. I was far too aware of everything around me. I wanted to faint or die, but instead I was hyper-aware.
    So I watched Laodon slit a sentry’s throat. I wasn’t sure it was real, because by then the night seemed to be full of ghosts and shadows. The moon was full. The Illyrian ponies began to fuss, and ghosts walked. When Laodon slit the man’s throat, taking him from behind with his hand as he’d grabbed me at the stream, I saw the ghosts lap at the fountain of black blood that flashed like a sword in the moonlight.
    From my position in the middle of the camp, I saw Erigyus take the big axe that was meant for boars and cut the other sentry in half, or close enough. The axe made a noise like a man splitting a melon for water on a summer’s day.
    Then the pages flooded the camp and began killing. There was no resistance – the Illyrians were taken by surprise and paid with their lives, and they died on their squalid pallets.
    Laodon cut my bonds. I managed a shriek when he reached for my arms, and he lowered me

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