The earth trembled. The hooves pounded the ground as the horse furiously galloped towards me.
The horse's lips were drawn back over its yellow teeth in a snarling curl. Its eyes were bulging as it strained against the reins.
The horse and rider were almost on top of me.
I hurled my spear at them.
I missed.
Death was beckoning.
My father stepped in front of me and smashed his sword hilt into the horse's mouth. The animal shrieked in pain and swerved violently away.
The horse's sudden movement unseated the rider, and he crashed to the ground. He'd barely hit the wet earth and Lughaidh skewered him with a swift thrust of his sword.
My father wiped the sweat from his left eye with the back of his hand. He turned to me and said "Slioch, you can't chuck a spear to save your life."
Lughaidh grinned. "Don't worry Ael," he said. "I'll sort him out".
It had been such a long time ago, but here on the flat dusty plains of Sogdiana, it flashed though my mind.
There were Sogdian horsemen everywhere. They had been plaguing us since we got here, moons ago.
They would appear from nowhere, hit us hard, and then disappear into the vast plains that stretched as far as the eye could see. We'd never fought an enemy like this before – skilful, fearless and cunning. We were losing.
We were on our way to punish a village in the back end of nowhere that Alexander suspected of helping the horsemen. They'd jumped us in a shallow depression that had hidden them from our view.
Now they were swarming all around us like flies on a dung heap.
Alexander was kneeling by my side, temporarily winded by a blow from a passing rider.
Out of the whirling melee of dust, horses and men burst a Sogdian horseman aiming straight for us.
He was close. I could smell the stale sweat of the heavily panting horse. I heard a muffled cry of warning from the crouching Alexander.
I waited.
The horseman raised his sword, ready to strike me dead.
I waited.
The horse was nearly level with me now.
I swung my shield into its mouth. There was a sickening crunch as I slammed the heavy metal boss into its teeth.
The horse whinnied in pain and reared up to get away from its tormentor.
The horseman reacted quickly to the wildly prancing animal. He was good – he swayed from side to side and he managed to stay on the horse. He regained his balance but it did him no good.
The bucking horse had given me the chance I needed. I plunged my sword into his belly. He screamed and toppled off the horse. He was dead by the time he hit the ground.
I turned to face Alexander. He was still kneeling, pain etched on his face.
He nodded in gratitude.
Times I'd tried to get him not to be in the thick of battle, but it was pointless.
After Issus, I remembered remonstrating with him.
He'd drawn himself up to his full height and, because he'd got an audience of Persian lords and nobles, in his most lordly voice said, "Slioch. You are brutal killer. You live for the fight. I, on the other hand, am a leader of men and I will not ask my men to face dangers that I am unwilling to."
His speech drew admiring smiles and nods from the nearby lords, especially from the recently captured ladies of the great king Darius' court.
He winked at me.
He was a clever sod alright.
The other horseman nearby suddenly stopped. They were gesticulating at the stricken figure on the ground. I followed their glances to the dead man on the floor.
He was old with many strange amulets. They were finely worked in gold and silver, decorated with strange serpents and birds. They looked expensive.
He didn't look like a chieftain, though. I guessed from what he was wearing maybe he was some kind of shaman.
I didn't like to kill holy men. It didn't do to disrespect other people's gods. I was happy enough with my own gods - gods of the hills, the streams, the wind – but on my travels I'd seen enough other gods to figure that my own might not be the only ones in the heavens. Here, so far from home, it made no sense to take chances. Best to be safe.
Usually I would have taken the amulets as booty, but I didn't want to steal from a holy man. Someone else could have them if they wanted to and risk the wrath of his gods.
A sudden movement by the horseman nearby broke my brief reverie. The whirling crowd of horsemen began to melt away into the dust almost as quickly as they had appeared.
Soon, they were gone and we were left alone on the vast plain.
Eventually we reached the village. It was a collection of huts by a curve in a wide slow moving river. Nothing moved – it seemed deserted. Not even a dog stirred on the dusty streets.
Alexander was in a foul mood. We'd lost more good men in the attack. Alexander was getting more and frustrated by the lightning attacks by the mobile bands of horsemen. We seemed powerless to stop them.
We drew up in formation in front of the village, Alexander hell bent on raising it to the ground.
I feared the worst for the villagers.
An old woman emerged from one of the huts and walked towards us, head held high, proud and erect.
She seemed fearless. I noticed the ornate amulets on her arms. The fine jewellery seemed to match the ones on the man I'd killed earlier.
She stopped in front of us and faced Alexander.
"Hail, the mighty Iskandar!" she called.
"You are mistaken, old woman," replied Alexander, shaking his head.
He pointed at Hephaistion. "This is the mighty Iskandar."
The old woman snorted. "My Lord jests with me."
She waved a dismissive arm at Hephaistion. "This weakling could not be the mighty Iskandar. There could only be one man who could be the shahanshah of all the lands of Persia."
I liked the old woman.
These people didn't think of themselves as Sodgians, they called themselves Kambojas – the name they had used for all time before the Persians came and took their lands. The Persians had never really subdued them. The Kambojas tolerated the Persians as they never really imposed themselves on them.
Alexander allowed himself a wry smile. If these tough people recognised him as their lord, then he'd done more that generations of the Great Kings of Persia. He loved a bit of flattery.
He paused, seeming to wrestle with a question in his mind. He decided. Having tested the shaman, he'd ask her for information.
"You are clearly blessed with much wisdom," Alexander said.
She shrugged. "The Gods talk to me sometimes," she replied flatly.
"My scouts have ridden for many days beyond your village. They tell me that there is nothing but empty grassland, rolling on forever into the distance. Where are your cities? Where are your king and his army?" Alexander asked.
The old woman looked puzzled. "Your scouts report true, my lord Iskandar. I have never met any one who has reached the end of the plains."
She shook her head and jerked her thumb over her shoulder. "As for cities, behind me is the biggest village for many, many days ride. As for a king, we have none and I have never seen an army such as yours."
Alexander grimaced. I guessed it wasn't the answer he wanted.
He pushed passed her, making for the village. It would soon be a pile of smouldering rubble.
We moved to follow him.
The old woman turned quickly to me and held her hand up to stop me.
"Not you," she said firmly. "I would speak with you."
I stopped. She looked like she had something important to say, and she didn't look like she'd take any argument.
"From the stench of Death walking behind you, I guess you must be Slioch."
"How can you know who I am?" I demanded nervously.
She tutted and wagged her finger at me. "You must be Slioch," she said dismissively. "Where you walk, Death follows in your shadow as surely as night follows day. He is your constant companion. I can see him now".
A cold shiver shot down my spine. I shot a nervous glance behind me. I didn't like the idea of Death being so close to me. I spat and made a quick curse to ward off the evil.
I could have stabbed her for the insult, but after the put down of Hephaistion I'd decided I liked her.
"You gave my husband a warrior's death," she calmly announced. "For that I am grateful. Now he sits in the great hall, drinking and feasting with the other warriors."
She sounded thankful for the service I had rendered.
"He was dying, so you let him avoid the shame of dying in his bed."
I tried to speak, but could think of nothing to say that sounded right.
She paused, lost in thought.
She shook herself out of her thoughts, turned and smiled at me. "My husband owes you a favour in return for your help to get him to the hall of warriors. He commands me to pass you a message."
I was intrigued and gave her a quizzical look.
She grinned at my puzzlement.
"My husband says that they speak of you often in the Underworld. Take care not to die too soon, Slioch. They have much planned for you down there."
The warning was delivered with a note of concern. I couldn't miss the hidden dangers.
I spat again and muttered the strongest curse I knew to ward off the evil.
"I wasn't planning on dying just yet," I replied defensively.
She shook her head in agreement. "I know."
She paused. "Just remember, Slioch, it's hardest to kill something that's bad."
I pursed my lips and nodded to her. I walked passed her towards the village, her warnings turning over in my mind. The first flames were leaping from the huts.
We were on our way back to Alexandria Eschate. A plume of smoke rose behind us in the distance from the burning village. The black smoke drifted slowly into the vast skies above the empty plains.
Alexander walked beside me.
"What did the old woman want?" he asked me casually.
"Oh, she just wanted to thank me for sending her husband to the warriors' hall," I lied.
Alexander looked back over his shoulder at the smoke plume and the distant horizon of grass.
"Nothing worth looking for out there, I reckon, from what she says," he sounded decisive.
He didn't need my support for his decision. I didn't like these flat grasslands. Nowhere to hide; too easy to get caught by the deadly horsemen. By the Gods, how I hated cavalry!
I grunted my agreement.
Alexander turned to look south and to the massive mountains of the Hindu Kush.
"I think Aristotle's geography might be wrong, you know."
I laughed. I'd worked that out a long time ago. That fat little philosopher knew nothing.
Alexander laughed too.
"Let's head south and east," he said, pointing to the far mountains of the Hindu Kush on the horizon. "The Persians tell me there are many kingdoms to take there."
"Fine by me," I enthusiastically responded. "Give me the hills over these flat lands any day."
We never came back this far north. It was the limit. Aristotle was definitely wrong again.
Alexander turned south and looked to the east.
But by the time we got over the Hindu Kush, I was quite fond of flat grasslands.