The Soul of Time Read online

  Plexis woke up with a grimace. His arm pained him, and Demos spent a good part of the morning carefully tending the wound.

  Yovanix woke up with a start. He looked around for a few seconds, as if he’d forgotten where he was. Then his shoulders slumped and he ran a shaky hand over his face and through his hair. Without a sound, he folded up his cloak and joined us around the fire. His face was crumpled with fatigue and his eyes were red, but he didn’t look worse than anyone else. He took a cup of chicory from Nearchus with a shy nod, then sat next to Cerberus, busy worrying his fleas. The hound would often break off his scratching and look around. His black nose would twitch, but he didn’t bark. I felt more secure knowing he was there; he would bark and give us time to grab our swords before an attack. At least I hoped so. I looked at the enormous puppy. He was still growing, much to Alexander’s dismay. His fur was rough and grey and his eyes yellow. I thought he looked like a wolf, and Alexander said he looked like a pony he once had, only taller. Paul didn’t care what he looked like. He had a dog, his own dog, and it didn’t matter to him that the dog ate twice as much as he did.

  And speaking of eating. I looked into the bag that held our food supplies. It was empty. An onion rolled around the bottom and there were a few crumbs, but that was it. In last night’s scramble, most of the food we’d managed to bring with us had either been lost in the forest or had been forgotten in the cart. I put my face in my hands. I’d also lost my own bag with my cotton and my toilet case. I didn’t know what depressed me more: no more shampoo and soap, or no more food. Our belongings now consisted of the clothes we wore and our cloaks, whatever the men had with them in their leather pouches, five swords, and one large, round shield that Paul carried everywhere. Much to Alexander’s dismay, Cerberus used this as a bed. But nothing could stop the dog from curling up and snoozing on it. Otherwise, Paul kept the shield clean and polished, so Alexander, who had given it to his son, only cast occasional disapproving glances at the gangly puppy.

  Then there was Plexis. He was sitting up, but couldn’t move without wincing. What had I been thinking? I’d insisted on bringing him along instead of trusting Axiom to care for him in Orce. We could have been safely tucked on board Phaleria’s ship right now instead of huddled in a tiny clearing in the middle of a primeval forest.

  Chapter Two

  When he awoke, I braced for Alexander to say something about Plexis and the safety of the ship, but he didn’t. Instead he rolled over, stretched, yawned and sat up blinking. His face was dappled in yellow sunlight, and his hair had pine needles stuck in it. He grinned ruefully as he plucked them out.

  ‘I feel much better,’ he said in a normal tone of voice.

  We all stopped what we were doing and looked at him. Not that we were doing much, but just the strain of listening for any further attack required constant effort. Plexis paused from cleaning his teeth, Paul stopped grooming Cerberus, and Nearchus, who’d been polishing his sword, glanced up in surprise.

  Demos frowned. ‘You’ve slept most of the morning,’ he said. His voice wasn’t reproachful, but it did sound a bit puzzled. ‘Aren’t you worried about an attack?’

  Alexander grinned. His smile was wide, and if I didn’t know better I would have thought he was completely stoned. Sometimes he got that same smile when Usse gave him the hashish he used for medicinal purposes. He shook his head slowly. ‘You’ve been on guard all morning? Protecting me?’ There was something in his voice. I sat back on my heels and studied him carefully.

  ‘What do you know that we don’t?’ I asked in a level voice. My nerves were pretty well frayed, and so were everyone else’s. When Alexander started to chuckle, I saw Nearchus’s hand tighten on his sword.

  Alexander saw it too because he stopped and frowned. ‘Think,’ he said reasonably. His eyes met Plexis’s and he started smiling again.

  Plexis grinned too, and settled back onto the tree trunk he’d been leaning on. The tenseness left his face. ‘They want us to go north,’ he said.

  ‘Exactly.’ Alexander shrugged. ‘As long as we’re heading in the direction they want us to go, they’ll leave us alone. Why were they so worried last night? Because they weren’t sure where we were going. How many forks were in the road? My bet is that we’ve passed most of them. As long as we go north we’ll be fine.’

  ‘They’re not chasing us then,’ said Demos.

  ‘No, they’re herding us.’ It was Yovanix. ‘They know exactly where we are and where we’re going.’

  ‘And the more tired and weak we are when we get there, the better,’ I said snappishly. ‘All that’s fine, but what should we do about it?’

  ‘Well, until we’re rested, nothing,’ said Alexander. ‘They had ample chance to kill us and they haven’t yet, so I think we’re to be kept alive. For now at least,’ he added thoughtfully, taking a pine needle from his hair and studying it.

  ‘I feel terrible, I’m sorry,’ I said softly.

  ‘For what?’ Alexander looked surprised.

  ‘For leading you into this mess; if it weren’t for me we’d be safe on Phaleria’s boat.’

  ‘And Phaleria and her crew would be feeding fish at the bottom of the sea. No, we made the right decision. The dragon boat is swift. They would have caught us and forced us northwards one way or another. All they have to do is follow along and prod us when we start to go off track.’

  ‘And the men in the dragon boat?’ I asked.

  ‘Were to keep us from escaping by sea.’ Alexander paused. ‘It’s not an ideal situation. We don’t know how many are following us and how many were lured into following Phaleria. Hopefully, Axiom will give us some respite with his story. I’m not counting on it, though. We’ll have to make plans. For now, we must rest and get our strength back. They won’t attack us.’

  ‘Why?’ Demos frowned. ‘We were outnumbered. Why not just attack?’

  ‘In Orce, there were too many people around. And they’ve split up.’ I said thoughtfully. ‘They can’t risk injuring Paul or Alexander. They need them. Am I right?’ I asked Alexander.

  ‘I believe so.’ He tousled Paul’s hair. ‘Never fear, Son. The oracle said I would find my soul in the north, and that’s where we’re headed.’

  We looked at one another. The sun was sparkling in little pinpricks of light as it filtered through the immense pine trees, and the air was a cool greenish colour and smelt like fresh pine cones and pine needles heating slowly in the sunshine. It was hard to feel threatened in a place like this. Maybe Alexander was right.

  Afterwards, he and Nearchus went hunting while Demos and Yovanix stayed to guard us – although we trusted Alexander’s instincts. It made sense. The druids had known for some time where we were headed; it wasn’t a mystery. The only thing that might have stopped Alexander had been Plexis, so they’d tried to kill him. Luckily, he was tough. Then they watched to see what we’d do. When we headed inland, it had surprised them into showing themselves, but they had faded away when they were sure we were heading in the direction they wanted.

  What exactly was waiting for us in the north? A Paleolithic tribe of people called the Eaters of the Dead, a thief of souls called Voltarrix, a bunch of druids who thought Paul could twist time, and a lost soul. No wonder I was nervous.

  I pushed a lock of hair out of my eyes. Paul was whittling a piece of tender pinewood into a semblance of a dog under the watchful guidance of Yovanix, who could carve anything from a block of wood. Paul’s face still had the smooth, round cheeks of youth. His eyes narrowed as he concentrated on his carving.

  ‘O “Child of the pure unclouded brow and dreaming eyes of wonder!”,’ I said, then stopped. The poem was too close to my own time. It made me feel the chasm that separated me from everything I understood and exaggerated my feeling of helplessness. And I didn’t usually feel so helpless. I was pretty tough. Not many people, having been abandoned in a time not their own, would have survived. But I had. Was it because I’d been raised by two utterly ruthless people, or was it
something in my genes that made me grit my teeth and go on when most people would have given up in despair? I didn’t know. So far I’d managed to survive, and I suppose I could keep on surviving. However, I’d also learned the difference between mere survival and living. For the first time since I’d been stuck three thousand years in the past, I was frightened of the unknown.

  Alexander came back with a large rabbit. He soon had it skinned and stuffed with a mixture of onion and some greens that Nearchus had picked. I knew almost nothing about edible plants. Even Paul knew more than I did. I could tell the difference between a silicon mini-microprocessor made in Germany and a biotechnical chip from China, but that wouldn’t help me now. Most of my schooling was useless here, although my knowledge of the future had helped save Plexis and had certainly saved Alexander. But we’d stepped off the timeline when I saved them. We navigated in unknown territory and, as it said on an ancient globe, ‘Hic sunt dracones’ – here be dragons. Did Alexander realize how dangerously close we were to alerting the Time-Correctors to our situation?

  I lowered my lashes and looked at my husband. He still had all the power and grace he’d possessed ten years ago when I’d first met him on the banks of the Euphrates. He had been twenty-three then, just starting on the amazing journey that would take him halfway across the known world and set him up as the greatest conqueror the world had ever known.

  For a few years, Alexander had been the catalyst in a change that had rocked the world. For the first time East met West. A breach had been created that was like a sudden opening in a dam that let water come surging through. Only, instead of water, it was new ideas, trade, philosophy, science, and religion that flooded the world. Now every historical time-line would have a mark with Alexander’s name next to it. Thirty cities would carry his name to the future. His legend would be translated into every language on the globe. He would be present in four major religions, as a demon, a saint, a hero, or a mystery. His tomb would remain undiscovered. And that was just in the future.

  People still turned and followed him with their eyes when they crossed his path. They didn’t know who he was, but he had something about him, a glow that even a blind healer had felt. When she first met him she had touched him with a hand that shook. ‘It can’t be,’ she’d kept saying softly. Then tears had poured down her face. ‘What I would give, just for a minute, to be able to look upon your face,’ she’d murmured.

  It had shaken me. Since his faked death, I had grown used to having him for my own without the hundreds of generals, soldiers, satraps, and other people constantly begging to see him.

  Decisions. His whole life had been full of decisions and plans. He’d started an adventure and swept us all after him like the tail of a comet. Everyone had relied upon him. They had turned towards him for everything short of breathing, and I often wondered at the strength of his shoulders to carry an empire. But he carried it as easily as he breathed.

  Half the world had called him ‘king’ when he was thirty-two years old – and then he’d died.

  He knew I was watching him. He always felt the weight of my gaze. He told me it was like a cool touch. However, he only looked at me for the space of a smile, then bent back over his work.

  I was shaken because I had realized how vital he was to us. We still relied on him and followed him blindly. I wondered, in that second, just how much we were responsible for his melancholy. We smothered him with our love, our devotion, and our inability to separate ourselves from him.

  We rested for a day and a night, eating rabbit and drinking cold water from a nearby stream. Nearchus speared fish for our breakfast. After eating, we moved on. Our stomachs were full, but so were our minds. Everyone was thinking about what Alexander had told us. We were being followed, herded as it were, to the land of the Eaters of the Dead.

  Plexis walked the slowest, so he set our pace. When his arm hurt too much to go on, he sank to the ground and that’s where we made camp. At first he drove himself, but then Alexander managed to persuade him that there was no rush. After that we rested more often, and Plexis slowly got his strength back.

  I liked walking through the forest. The tall pines were far enough apart to make large corridors. The pine needles made a springy carpet. It was too early in the spring for ants, so we could sit anywhere and relax. The weather was clement until the third day.

  We sat under a lean-to, expertly made by Yovanix, and watched as the rain fell through the trees. Some drops made their way through the roof and fell sizzling into the fire – or icily down our necks. Our conversation lagged. No one knew what lay ahead, and we were apprehensive. No, let’s make that terribly apprehensive. It showed in the way Nearchus kept polishing his sword, the way Yovanix jumped every time anyone said his name, or the way Paul couldn’t get to sleep at night.

  ‘I’m afraid that there will be another sacrifice,’ he told me, as we huddled out of the rain. ‘I won’t go through another one.’

  ‘Neither will I,’ I told him.

  ‘I dream about it almost every night as it is,’ he said glumly. ‘It’s not a nightmare any more, not really anyway, but it still frightens me. And I don’t think I could stand seeing another man killed in front of me.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I said softly.

  ‘Don’t feel bad. It’s enough having Father feeling bad about everything. He’s not himself any more, it worries me.’ He was whispering now, his voice tickling my ear. The rain was making a pleasant patter on the roof of criss-crossed branches above our heads, and I was feeling sleepy.

  ‘I miss Chiron and Cleopatra,’ I said softly.

  ‘So do I. It gave me an awful shock to see Papa, is he better now?’ Paul always referred to Plexis as ‘Papa’.

  ‘He’ll be fine. He’s been wounded worse, you know. Why, once he spent three days in a coma. When he woke up he didn’t remember a thing about the battle.’ I shook my head. ‘He had no idea where he was. He was persuaded that we were still in Bactria, although we’d been in India for months by then.’

  Paul made a face. ‘I never saw India.’

  ‘Maybe someday we’ll go back. Your father loved it there,’ I told him. Our whispers were as soft as the rustle of the branches in the rain. The sky was growing progressively darker. I yawned. It wasn’t the night; it was simply a storm moving across the sky like some slouching beast. Lightning flickered in its black belly, and thunder growled at us. The men put more wood on the fire, and we huddled around its warm brightness waiting for the rain to end. I fell asleep waiting.

  A pine needle tickling my nose and the high trilling of a songbird woke me. I opened one eye, then another. The silence was odd. It was rare that I woke before everyone else. Usually there was someone sitting guard, keeping the fire going if there were a chill, or doing some quiet chore like mending clothes or polishing swords. However, there didn’t seem to be any movement around me. It didn’t worry me overmuch. The quiet was peaceful.

  I could see the sun filtering through the trees. It was promising to be a beautiful day. I sat up as silently as I could, intending to slip out of the shelter and attend to my needs. The men were sleeping soundly. Paul stirred as I stepped over him but otherwise didn’t move. Even Cerberus only dug his muzzle deeper under his master’s arm and went on dreaming.

  Once out in the open, I stood up very straight and took a deep breath of fresh air. If you’ve always lived in the modern world, and never had the chance to take a trip back in time, then you can never imagine how sweet the air was before the invention of fossil fuels. In my day, the earth was surrounded in a faint haze of pollution. Here, there was nothing but the faint scent of wood smoke. Otherwise, the air was as clean and pristine as the beginning of the world. The water was clean, the air was clean, the ocean was full of fish, and wild animals still roamed the forests.

  As a matter of fact, there was one right in front of me.

  Nothing too scary, just a large, grey wolf. He was sitting in a clearing staring at me, and something in his yellow
gaze was reassuring. He was not hungry, and his eyes seemed to tell me that he was just curious about the pale, two-legged beast shuffling noisily through the forest. It was his forest. He lived there. We were just passing through, but he had been born beneath the towering pines and would live his whole life there before dying beneath the very same trees. We were his guests for the short time we stayed there.

  There was a swift stream nearby, and I washed myself. I was very careful to leave everything just as I’d found it.

  The wolf had vanished silently. I suppose he was somewhere close by keeping an eye on us. The thought that maybe it was a druid flickered like a spark through my mind, but three thousand years of civilization put the spark out as if I’d dumped a whole bucket of water on it. Absurd. People don’t change themselves into animals. They simply can’t. It is impossible, going against all the laws of science and nature. Matter doesn’t change into other matter. The wolf was a wolf and that was that.

  Of course, I’d come across a monkey claiming to be a druid. He could write in Greek on a wax tablet and pluck silver coins out of purses, but even that could be explained – by thin layers of wax, by patient training. I didn’t for an instant believe the monkey had really once been a man.

  Or did I? I sat at the water’s edge and stared at the flowing stream. Small green leaves floated in eddies. I plucked one and nibbled it. Watercress was one of the edible plants I was capable of recognizing. I sighed for no particular reason and glanced up at the sky, visible through the canopy. Sunlight dappled my face and arms. A trout splashed in the stream, startling me. I wished I knew what was going to happen next. I had the frightening feeling that I was cut off from the world. I hated the way we were being herded along towards an unknown destination. There had to be a way to escape, or at least turn the situation more towards our advantage.

  What frightened me the most was that a group of powerful men had stolen Alexander’s soul somehow and had decided to change the future by using Paul to unite the tribes of Gaul. If that happened, the Gauls would defeat the Roman Empire. Progress would be stopped. The druids were leery of writing and still made human sacrifices. If they succeeded in their plans, history, as I knew it, would be erased, along with Alexander, me, and everyone we knew and loved.