Memnon by Oden Scott

Author:Oden, Scott [Oden, Scott]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Medallion Press
Published: 2006-08-01T05:00:00+00:00

“She blames herself,” Memnon whispered, “when the fault is mine. I am a thrice-cursed fool!” He returned the letter to the wallet and glanced around the cluttered tent with clarity of purpose. Thrace, the army, this campaign, none of it concerned him any longer, and the sooner he was on the road to Pella the better. We will need to travel light, he thought, sorting at once through a dozen different scenarios and the obstacles they presented. Swift action called for swifter preparation …

An hour later, when Khafre returned with Pharnabazus, the Egyptian noticed a marked change the moment he entered the tent. Bathed, his hair and beard freshly trimmed, Memnon wore his linen corselet over a tunic of faded blue. Bronze greaves clung to his shins, their knee-guards carved and molded to resemble Medusa’s ferocious visage. He sat on a cypress-wood chest, balancing a waxed writing board on his thighs; he paused in his writing and glanced up at his nephew. “Good, you’re here.”

“What goes, Uncle?” Pharnabazus said, scowling. Runnels of sweat cut through the dust of the drill field. “Khafre said you had news of the gravest sort.”

“I thought it best he hear it from you,” the Egyptian said.

Memnon nodded. “We’re going home, Pharnabazus. Gather only those things you cannot bear to part with. When you’re finished, take Khafre and find a pair of horses. I want the two of you to be on the road to Aenus within the hour.”

“Do not be absurd, Memnon!” Pharnabazus said. “Going home? We cannot go home! This campaign is not remotely over! If this is because of your words with Parmenion, then swallow your pride, Uncle, and do as he tells you!”

“We’re going home,” Memnon said, “because Mentor summons us. His plan was successful. Your father is an exile no longer.”

Pharnabazus blinked. He glanced at Khafre and the Egyptian smiled, giving his shoulder a reassuring pat. “Uncle, I …”

Memnon held up a hand, forestalling him. “You’ve said nothing that requires an apology, Pharnabazus, but your haste and cooperation are another matter. I need both and I need them now! Pack swiftly; get a pair of horses and some rations, enough for a couple of days. Once you and Khafre reach Aenus, find a ship and secure us passage back to Pella. Understood?”

The young Persian thumped his armor-clad chest. “I have all I need here, but what of you, Uncle? Are you not traveling with us?”

“I will be hot on your heels,” Memnon said. He snapped the hinged cover of the writing board shut and stood. “First, though, I must settle our affairs with Parmenion.”

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