Happy Holidays everyone!
I don't think anything I can say will make it up to you all, but nevertheless, I'm happy to have finished this chapter before I join with my family for the holidays! You guys are the best :)
Cheers!
Act II, Chapter III
It was near dawn when Artemis caught the returning scout party, on one of the nearby ridgelines that surrounded the Macedonian army camp.
She could feel the exhaustion of a cumulative month draining her body's resources: not only from her aching muscles and tired eyes, but from her very mental strength. Ever since that fateful crossing of the Euphrates, the first steps into Persian lands, manticores had stalked through the sand dunes and desert brush in hunting packs. It was the largest gathering of the beasts that Artemis had ever seen, which was a harrowing experience, since manticores on their own were a difficult challenge to overcome. She and Perseus, after having their… enlightening conversation, had tracked dozens of the great cats through the desert sands, attempting to preemptively either scare away or neutralize the monsters before they inflicted more losses on the expedition. The results were… horrific. Long manticores were one experience. Packs were another altogether
It didn't feel like they were successful. Artemis sighed, watching the nervous men stroll towards her, with their gazes constantly stretching all around them, in the dark shadowed gullies of the sand dunes. The pitch-black nights weren't the most dangerous times of day now, it was the hour before or after the sun had dipped below the horizon: when one's senses were dull and unprepared.
After a quick count, it looked as if this predawn patrol had come back unscathed- a relative rarity after crossing the Tigris in the fertile valley. Despite her best efforts, her heart unclenched a little, allowing herself to breathe more easily. The very exhaustion that kept her from standing fully upright seemed to disappear as Perseus was most assuredly alive on his returning patrol. Too many times now, she had waited with anxious anticipation after resting from her midnight patrol work, seeking to find Perseus amongst the other Macedonian riders. She felt the demeaning and dependent nature of her yearning, but at the same time, she reflexively knew that Perseus was feeling the same towards her. Whenever she returned from the darkest of the night, she always caught a glimpse of Perseus in some shape or another.
Most of the men walked right past her, and Artemis raised a hand to the few she recognized- all being Pellians. The others were clearly from the Southern Aegean and possibly even from the western Mediterranean: Cretans, Rhodians, and men of the Balearic Island- she couldn't be sure. A full twenty on the patrol had departed hours ago, most were armed with some missile weapon. Two of the Pellians, along with Perseus, carried cavalry spears and the big hoplon shields.
She waited; her unstrung bow wedged in the sand like a walking stick as Perseus approached her. She couldn't see his eyes in the dim light, but just by his body language alone, he looked exhausted like herself.
"How'd it go?" Artemis asked him, glancing over at the departing scouts. She strained her voice, trying, and hopefully succeeding in keeping any worry from her body language and simple question.
"As well as to be expected," Perseus replied, "A manticore got the jump on us, but by some miracle, no one was hit. We tracked another and killed it while it was feasting on a camel." The heavy shield slid into the sand as Perseus slipped his arm out of the strap.
"Gods… we can't take much more Artemis." Perseus groaned as he flexed his wrist.
She nodded in reply, "You know Alexander called a meeting before the march today. The Persian army is close... Very close. The battle won't be far away now."
This didn't seem to appease him, and she didn't blame him. The idea didn't really comfort her either. The easy conversation that had eluded them both for weeks before had somewhat returned, albeit with the growing tensions that came with travelling deeper into the Persian heartlands. They hadn't talked about… their shared sentiments, not since that wine laden night. She caught his gaze every so often, with his gaze betraying the slight hint of affection and worry whenever she would leave on patrol.
She wanted to be affronted, and angry over the looks that Perseus refused to quell, but she couldn't bring herself to accuse him of anything. They still sparred, neither holding back, and Artemis still found herself buckling his armor in some manner whenever Perseus flinched at his left shoulder straps.
The wound would never fully heal- a lasting parting gift from Melqart's ice-spear.
"And Anahita?" Perseus prompted her.
"Nothing, other than her friendly beasts of course," Artemis responded coldly, bringing her thoughts back to the issue at hand. They marched daily; Artemis could felt the Persian deity's presence in the very air around them. But she hadn't revealed herself. In some ways, Artemis would've felt much better if she did.
The vengeful deity goddess had already been very clear about her intentions towards Artemis and the Expedition- clear enough through her actions at the Battle of Issus, which felt like a lifetime ago. She recalled feeling fresh, and young even, during those days. Now, through all of the Expedition, the battles were piling up: Issus, Tyre, Gaza, Egypt, the Euphrates, and now the Persian Heartlands.
"It will come to an end. I can feel it," Perseus spoke, looking back into the grey darkness that surrounded them, "Can't you? A coming battle is in the winds- the air itself, it feels heavy, stretching us to our breaking points."
"I don't break, Perseus," Artemis clenched her hands, feeling her knuckles pop and tighten against her palms.
"Anahita will show her hand. It's all we can do to hold on and brace ourselves against the coming storm."
"You don't think she will fight, do you?" Perseus wondered, and she resolutely ignored his face. He seemed to never confront her reiterating criticisms of his easy attitude.
"No," Artemis mused, "She tried to, when I first met her. I actually think it was only because it was a moment in where she lost her reserve, despite how resolved she seemed. Ever since, she has played calculating game of subterfuge, such as involving the God you had the… audacity to challenge."
"Why thank you, for your ringing endorsement and admiration of my character," Perseus gave her a slight smile, as he stood right next to her.
Despite the circumstances, Artemis felt a grin cut across her face, unbidden but welcomed all the same.
Together they trudged back to the camp, trailing the Pellians and others by a stone's throw distance. The grey hours of the morning didn't make the Macedonian camp any less lively than at dawn or at the daily marching hour. With reports of the Persian army massing just over the horizon, the camp never slept. The Pellian quarters were on the southern outskirts of the camp, but Perseus and herself veered off, winding their way through the packed tent rows of soldiers and followers alike- towards Alexander's tent, and their own.
"I talked with Kleitos before my patrol," Perseus mentioned offhandedly to her, as they passed a row of tents full of Kleitos's recognizable soldiers.
"Right," Artemis laughed, "A friendly conversation?" Her voice lilted as she huffed a bit, glaring at some of the phalangites who stared at her with piercing gazes.
"Believe it or not, yes," Perseus remarked, "He was gruff, and unfriendly, but he mentioned that an earlier patrol had sighted Darius's army on the move. 200,000 strong."
"200-!" Artemis exclaimed, before she swore in a primal tongue that she hadn't used in an age.
"Yeah, please don't shout that out loud," Perseus muttered, staring at the syntagma that was tearing down tents with an unflinching gaze, "and what did you just say? That wasn't Greek, was it?"
"It was more Greek that the tongue you speak," Artemis retorted, but she held the thought in her head. 200,000? And the expedition could muster… 40,000? That number was being generous, but even for the Persian estimate to be off by a small margin didn't improve their odds by much.
"We've overcome greater odds than that before," Perseus spoke in a hushed tone, "Kleitos told me because he thought I'd need some time to think it over before the war council today. Besides, we did happen to beat a Persian force at the Granicus heavily outnumbered, in case that slipped your mind."
"A Persian Satrap who was a bumbling idiot, with troops that wanted the Greek expedition to succeed. Yes, that was a victory," Artemis replied, thinking over that battle. However bloody the cavalry battle on the river had been, the rest had mostly been a one-sided fight.
"Issus then."
"Your heavy infantry was torn to shreds!" Artemis snarled out of the corner of her mouth as she let one hand drift down to her sheathed dagger, as one Macedonian man eyed her chest plate with unmoving eyes. "You were lucky I was there. You and Alexander both."
Perseus followed her gaze, ignoring her reply, and subtly stepped between the man who was still eyeing her.
"Stop that," Artemis immediately ordered, seeing straight through what Perseus was attempting to do. No matter how many times she told him that she would disembowel him should he try to protect her in any way, the stubborn man currently besides her never ceased to do so.
So, she shoved Perseus aside. A faint blush crept up her neck all the same though, despite her best efforts. It was almost a ritual, an accepted turn of events that fostered an errant emotion to bubble up from her core without fail. Another, more familiar base instinct ran down her arms to her fingertips, which twitched, itching for the handle of her dagger. It was strange, to blush at Perseus's stubborn face, but to also wish that she could decapitate Perseus for daring to try to covet her for his own desires.
"Stop what?" Perseus replied absentmindedly, still looking back at the Macedonian that was now behind them. Artemis scowled. 'Idiot.'
But… however tempting that instinct to lop off Perseus's head was… her blade would never have a chance at leaving its sheath. She… she loved arguing with Perseus. Ever since he had put the feeling to words, she knew that she felt the same, at least, affectionately. She didn't, couldn't love him. That wasn't possible for her, it would never be possible for her to love him. However, her mind worked its way through the scenario, where she had somehow twisted the current situation, instead, she contorted the setting to a scenario where Perseus was called to by a woman, who would beckon him over to her tent.
She found herself blinking rapidly at the thought, before her heart raced with adrenaline flooding through her muscles.
'Oh.'
The nervous energy coursed through her body in languid pulses of rage at the mere thought, and an inner voice snapped out at the image, seeking to leave it clear to all that Perseus belonged to her.
"Everything," Artemis shuddered and elbowed him in the ribs while he wasn't paying attention. Perseus groaned, and immediately stooped to clutch his side as Artemis continued striding forwards. "I can handle myself here. I don't need the entire Macedonian army to know that you have protective instincts over an Amazonian guide."
'Where had that thought come from?' Artemis found herself wondering, her blush only intensified as she resolutely ignored Perseus, who was muttering into the sand about ill-tempered travel-guides.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
"He loved you, then." Phoebe cut into her telling of the battle's prelude. Artemis glanced over to Phoebe. The Hunt, who were usually pretty animated when listening to her epic styled retelling of the Macedonian Expedition, looked a bit crestfallen at her telling of the hard weeks she had endured. No battle lasts a single day, and at Gaugamela, the dead there were only a drop of the pool of blood that had been spilt across the East in the campaign.
"Yes. He did," Artemis replied, steeling herself for a line of questioning that was reflected to her through Phoebe's narrowed red eyes.
"And you loved him in return," her elder hunter remarked.
"Yes. While, at the time, I was… conflicted about the ramifications, I loved him, unconditionally." Artemis stood tall, unwilling and unable to hide that fact anymore.
"That day, when you first told us about Perseus, you told me in private that you don't choose who we love, nor would you have abandoned your vows for a man, no matter who it was," Phoebe sighed, looking towards the roaring flames of the cooking pit, fueled by the greasy fat remains of the venison.
"But, My Lady, I can't shake the feeling that had Perseus lived, the Hunt wouldn't exist."
Other hunters murmured and locked their gazes onto herself and Phoebe, all unwilling to speak up or lend a voice to the conversation. Artemis met Phoebe's gaze.
"You are right. The Hunt wouldn't have existed, at least, not in the manner you know today. I loved Perseus, and near the end… I was so enthralled that I couldn't imagine a future where he wasn't at my side." Artemis found herself admitting freely. An eerie silence overtook the clearing, as the crackling branches of the fire were the only signs that time hadn't stopped in the middle of the clearing.
"But do you all believe that I wouldn't be the Goddess of the Hunt?" Artemis laughed lightly, for once finding a wistful future to be an ease to her soul, rather than a familiar burden. "Hunters, Perseus would've have been here, yes, but I would still have held to my Virgin Oath."
"You would do that?" Phoebe asked, skepticism laced through her reply.
Artemis didn't feel any anger at her lack of unquestioning faith- only a sense of confidence and affirmation to her own memories and understanding of the hunt, having questioned herself on this very topic for millennia.
"Phoebe, "Artemis replied slowly, thinking over her answer, "I knew that if the Expedition had ended with both of us… well, I would keep Perseus in my life as long as he would've let me. I would have made him a Hunter if need be. But never, even though my desires had run towards having a child one day, would I ever endanger the Hunt's existence."
"A man in the Hunt…" Elizabeth murmured loudly, as she sat next to Kathleen and Emily. "That sounds…"
"Scary," Angelina said darkly, her normally jovial face dampened as she stared into the fire.
"But wait guys… it would've been Perseus. I mean… we've been hearing about him for a while now, from Artemis's own stories! Look, I hate men as much as the rest of you, but Perseus? I mean sure, it would've been nauseating seeing Artemis and him together and it isn't a secret that all of us have good reason to hate men?" Christina spoke up, taking a rare authoritative role over the conversation, "But we've heard who he is. I think we should follow his own examples by judging one's character on their own actions."
"And if Zoe were here… she would agree with me!" The Latina Hunter finished hotly.
"I have to agree with Christina there," Emily said, eyeing the roasting meat with a brief look-over. "Personally, you guys know I didn't have that rough of a childhood, but it would've taken me a short while to trust someone- in this case Perseus. But that goes for any close friend, doesn't it? I was wary around everyone here for years…"
Artemis heart lumped in her chest, as she indeed recalled Emily's conception to the Hunt. Now an easy-going member of the group, the girl had been frightened of her own shadow, without even needing to mention her fear of the big wide world. She had been socially stunted and barricaded in mediocre conditions within an ill-reputed orphanage. Not an ideal place for a daughter of a minor river goddess.
Emily had grown into a beautiful, well-loved Hunter, but the process of opening up had taken her years. Always modest, always hard-working- without the slightest complaint of the task at hand- Emily had to crack a shell of years of abuse and social regression. Her comment about her upbringing being bearable was a testament to her nature to put others' concerns above her own.
"Right, well, I suppose that's true… it's just hard to imagine, ya' know?" Mara scratched her nose. "Would he have been like… a guardian? An eternal sentry for the horrible 'second' watch of the night? Would he wear his own version of our silver tunics and parkas?"
Artemis couldn't help but snort at the serious question. Thankfully, it went unnoticed by the cascading jeers and laughs at the imagery of this Macedonian soldier in a Hunter's tunic.
The laugh died in her mouth though, as Artemis watched her Hunters. Because, Perseus would've have been her with her, watching in stoic silence as he always did when they were around a campfire. She could almost picture a corporeal form, somehow muddled between the tangible and intangible, where he smiled lightly at the scene before him. And then, he'd look at her with that soft look, where she could see into his very soul, and know she brought him happiness by just being there.
Her good mood having been neutered before it ever had a chance to fully bloom, Artemis resumed her present pastime of staring into the dull orange fire. She didn't flinch at the pain or the numb ache that had haunted her for a millennium, but she held on to that emotion all the same. No matter how much she loathed her Half-sister at the moment, she had been right. With every day since that ill-fated journey to New Orleans, her mind had adapted to the pain of Perseus being gone.
In a sense, she was healing.
At the same time though, she found herself bucking against it. Never before had she really questioned her aversion to telling Perseus's story. The whole story. But now… she understood.
She would heal- in a cathartic hurricane of emotions, granted- but she would heal all the same. Yet, Perseus would fade from her mind, and those long-gone moments would dissipate entirely. Perhaps she was being too paranoid and was far too afraid of anything taking away Perseus from her, even in the sense of letting others into their relationship. On the other hand, the life of a goddess was long indeed, and the far-away memories of her own mother still seemed like they were covered by a thick blanket of fog, Leto's own face barely discernable through the mists.
Of all the moments that she had told her Hunters, Artemis felt herself flush as she remembered some of the moments that were purposefully glossed over: Perseus had been a real catch to many, including most of the followers' camp, which in reality, was a part of the main Macedonian camp in most circumstances.
She had been unprepared for the… possessiveness that had dripped out of her mind like a poison to everything around her that would dare try to take him away. It had been… mortifying to come to terms with the perils of attraction and… love.
But there were some moments that she wanted her Hunt to hear about. And it was time to draw the story towards its conclusion. To the beginning of the end, where the threads desperately holding her Expedition with the Macedonians together snapped in spectacular fashion.
"Perseus… he would've been a guardian, I suppose. However above all else, he would've been a loyal and honest member of the Hunt, whom would've never failed to do anything in his power to right a wrong situation. I learned that…at the Battle of Gaugamela. It was there I realized that I would hold Perseus as close as possible for the rest of my days," Artemis frowned.
"Of course… I had no idea that Perseus would lay down his life for mine. In Babylon."
The Fire cracked loudly, as one large branch succumbed to the intense heat, shattering into a multitude of smaller charred chunks of wood.
"Alexander, I must insist, we are negating any advantage we have by continuing to wait! Should the Persian decide to attack themselves, we will lose any initiative we have. We have already been blessed by the Gods for their fear of a night attack. But what happens when Darius decides that a night attack would be beneficial to his own ends?" Parmenion said forcefully from his position at the table. His fist slammed down next to the faded red markers, which outnumbered the Macedonian blue by at least three to one.
Artemis found herself having to lean on to the table just to keep herself steady. While the others bickered about when to attack, and where to mount strongest forces, she surveyed the battlefield with tired eyes. Her gaze was locked towards a small knoll that lay on the eastern edge of the grassy battlefield laid out before them. Perseus, ever beside her, was unusually unresponsive and he lacked the near-constant level of self-awareness that always exuded from his posture.
She could hardly blame him, as the mere sight almost caused her to slip into unconsciousness. But since she had demanded, having insisted on doing the report for Alexander's council at the sight of Perseus, who had taken a vigil of their own tent this last night after a manticore had slipped passed the pickets of the encampment. She had been furious to awake to Perseus, glassy-eyed, and unable to keep his eyes open fully.
With a tongue lashing having been given out to Perseus earlier in the day, Artemis found the strength of the few hours she had actually slept in the night to study the battlefield before her eyes:
The large grassy plain, nestled in-between the rolling arid hills, was sunbaked with low grasses coming up to the ankle at most. A great site for cavalry: But the Persians had the advantage in both cavalries… and other creatures. Through the brilliantly starlit skies, Simurghs gracefully glided over the kills, their ferocity seemingly in check, as they awaited the coming storms. More manticores stalked through the short grasses, chasing down the odd deer. It wouldn't be long before she failed in one of her nightly patrols, and let another life fall claim to their poisonous thorns.
But there was another threat. It was the reason that both she, Perseus, and a select few of the Pellians and Royal Agema had gaunt faces and sunken eye sockets in the last few nights.
She and Perseus had made the first sighting two nights back, while drifting fairly close to the Persian sentry posts, hiding the darkest shadows possible when so close to the bright torches of the Persian encampment. Next to the penned horses, content to nibble on the dry desert grasses, were monstrous animals, grazing alongside the horses.
The horses were unconcerned with their monstrous herd members: giant, grey brown creatures that were four legged, standing almost a full five hands past the horses at her shoulders. Their bodies were twice as long, and almost four times as wide. They had huge jaws, fitted with crushing molar teeth and a sword length horn adorned on their long face.
They were Karkadann: the rulers of the open plains.
Artemis had been floored at seeing the beasts with her own eyes. She had discussed the possibility of seeing the Eastern plain monsters with Athena, long ago in Anatolia. But actually seeing them…
They were beautiful, in a powerful, brutal sort of way. But what struck her most wasn't their size, features, or natural innate power: It was the Persian saddles on their backs.
She and Perseus had retreated not long after, having only seen a few dozen of Karkadann, but just seeing one with Persian markings made Artemis clench her fists in rage, the newfound fury burning straight through the hazy fog in her mind. Her first time seeing the famed Karkadann, the rulers of the open desert plains: only to find them in Persian tethers. She had made a concentrated effort in remaining neutral during the campaign, where she was largely successful in doing so, but seeing these indomitable beasts fettered made her blood boil.
Luckily, she was drawn from such thoughts as she turned to Alexander, who had looked up from his undisturbed musings over the battlefield, laid out in perfect order by his precious little wooden figures.
While she and Perseus had been run dogged by the campaign, Alexander looked all too put together. His face was smooth in the late morning light that flooded into the tent. His tunic was pressed with no wrinkles, and his hair was perfectly blonde, with no traces of the ever-present sand and dust that had become a staple for anyone to endure when marching in the Macedonian Expeditions' Eastern travels.
Once, she had viewed Alexander as a capable leader and man in his own right. But…
Her last real experience with him had been during the Siege of Tyre. Since the slaughter of the Tyrians, in both Old and New Tyre, along with his actions in using her as a piece on his game board, she knew that Alexander had lost a certain restraint in his mind. When the Macedonian King had proclaimed himself the Son of Zeus-Ammon himself… well… she had avoided him ever since.
Suddenly, Artemis found herself staring into Alexander's clear blue eyes, unclouded, burning through her with more intensity than the gazes of the Gods she had met in the East so far. But she wasn't one to cow, especially not to a boy King, who had found that his ambitions rivalled the Gods.
Mortals, striving towards the immortal lives of the Gods- there was only one outcome for Alexander. No matter how hard he strived, how many achievements he accomplished, or how hard the sea pummels the shore, it mattered not. The shore will always remain steadfast against the might of the seas, even with the ebbing rocks, there will always be a shore. Poseidon had taught her that. An Elder Olympian God, whom was without doubt the strongest deity on the Olympian Council, was also aware of his own shortcomings.
So she raised her head and stared back at Alexander, knowing that he could expose her in an instant if he so wished. But in doing so, he would lose his honor, and the blow would shatter the chains of loyalty that bonded many of his men to his persona as the son of Phillip II. And of course… the great boy King knew better than to do such a thing, for he had his ambitions that stretched far beyond the favor of an Olympian Goddess.
Alexander broke their deadlocked stare first, shifting his piercing blue eyes over to Parmenion, "We…" He began with a heavy pause, his voice venomous "Will attack when I give the order. I will not be questioned again!"
The council fell silent, as Alexander shouted, a pointed finger resting towards Parmenion's chest. Perseus stiffened besides her; the sudden fog of sleep somewhat shaken off. Artemis had to fight off an impulse to grip Perseus's shoulder at his sudden movement, which caused her to flush as she thought of the circumstances and the watching eyes.
But Parmenion answered Alexander before she could think more of it.
"My King," Parmenion stiffly nodded his head, "When shall we attack, then?"
Artemis cooled her facial expression, but internally, she admired Parmenion's angle of approaching the conversation. The gruff older general wasn't one who was cowed by Alexander's fury. He had been a general for Phillip after all. She might dislike him, as she did for almost all of Alexander's generals, but at least his interests were grounded in the mortal world.
Artemis glanced over to Hephaestion, another character she didn't have much interaction with recently. She saw the black-haired man wearing a well put together mask of indifference to the conversation, but Artemis saw the concerned look in his eyes as his gaze flicked to Alexander, before quickly shifting back to the table.
Interesting. Artemis made a note to tell Perseus later about the interaction later when they were in the safe confines of their tent, which she planned to nap the day away proceeding the meeting.
"We will attack tomorrow, at midday's light," Alexander turned to the table in front of him, "I have waited these two days, Parmenion, to tire Darius's men as they stand guard every night, fearing our sarissas and thundering hooves."
"Alexander," Perseus spoke up, "Our men are tired as well. The Pellians, the Royal Agema, and every skirmishing unit we have- you haven't been on the nightly patrols…"
"Is that a challenge, Perseus?" Alexander snarled, glaring at his friend from across the table. The atmosphere dropping, and Hephaestion suddenly shouldered his way forward, putting a hand on Alexander's right shoulder. "I ask my men to do what they must, and would never place them in a situation where I myself would fail."
Artemis, her senses fully awake after the sudden change of air in the room, glanced worriedly at Perseus. Before, she had seen a shell of his consciousness, barely able to stand on his own feet from the exhaustion of the past week.
She felt herself flush as she looked at him now: His eyes were clear, his body tensed and held in a ready stance. A stab of… emotion welled through her. She felt the past weeks flood through her body. All she could manage was a mask of indifference to hide her utter lack of strength. But Perseus was somehow willing himself to stand, against his lifelong friend for…what? Reason?
Perseus gripped the table, "Alexander. You are my King. You always will be my King; you need only look around this table to see the unwavering loyalty you inspire. I have followed you to beyond what this campaign planned for. This coming battle… this will decide our war. Darius has evaded your grasp long enough. Should we prevail, the heart of the Desert Lion will be laid bare to us, our victory assured. Isn't this to be your triumph, our final battle?"
Perseus paused, seemingly lost in thought.
Artemis understood his argument clear enough in his wistful words. Despite his honor, loyalty, and strength, Perseus was a man. Artemis studied each man closely, as the room seemed to freeze in a bubble of time: Perseus was homesick.
And frankly, Artemis found herself homesick as well. The expedition and her futile wishes to return home were for naught until the journey was over.
But just once, for this moment she allowed herself to dream. Of the yellowed fields, the pale green forests, which were filled with the ambient sounds of the bubbling mountain streams. Of windswept plains and fog cleft valleys that she called home in Greece and in the Peloponnese, where the air was full of life and the tranquility of her temples and springs in the remote depths of the trees. She yearned for the sight of those places once more. She dreamed of the day she could walk along a mossy, ill traveled path through the rare trees of Greece, and just revel in feeling her home soil beneath her calloused soles.
In her exhausted state, she forgot to focus herself and her thoughts about the matter. So unbidden, the thought of wandering back in the Peloponnese with her trusted Hunters also incorporated Perseus…
She imagined him, unkempt and smirking, introducing himself to murderous Hunters with his surefire grin and calculating gaze that never failed to divulge some insight to those around him. The meeting of Perseus and her Hunters alone brought a quick smile to her face, and she had to duck her head down to force the joyous emotion off her lips. It was a sight thought, that she couldn't seem to shake, as she conjured up the scene of a stubborn, furious Zoe launching a full assault at a man who would dare enter the Hunt's camp. The sparring would've been amazing to see, with the Hunt looking on in suspicious, but interested expressions. And in time? Perseus was… well they would've to see him as she had.
Artemis flushed. 'Hopefully not exactly as how I see him.' She thought privately, shutting down that mental image for now. She cast Perseus another glance while her posture had her leaning down, shielding her glance from other pairs of inquisitive eyes around the table.
She saw that Perseus was staring at Alexander, who was in turn still obsessed over the pieces on the table, particularly the one of Darius, in the center of the Persian formation.
"Now, Perseus, Cleoxene- you will lead the Pellian skirmishers alongside the Companions. Scouts have reported that the heavy Bactrian horse are the primary riders that will be used to counter the Companions. You will tie down these horsemen, and any Karkadann that try to stop my charge. The Persian center is weak without the support of their horsemen, and luring them out of their protective stance s critical…"
As alexander laid out the battle strategy, Artemis could only wonder whether the next day would be her last… the last day with Perseus. Outwardly, she nodded and stared at the intricately carved miniature pieces on the map, but inwardly, she wondered how many would die tonight during the patrols, and those to die in the battle to come. Like a whipping wind, that scattered dust and sand through her hair, eyes, and ears, the meeting around her faded to black.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
The air smelled of death already, as the midday sun came to pass.
Artemis stood next to Perseus, unflinching as she and the entire Macedonian Expedition watched as the bull was sacrificed to Zeus, in the bright midday sun, that seemed to leech the strength out of her weary limbs already. The dozens of Macedonians who watched the sacrifice did so in silence, with their spears and banners all standing like silent forests in the breeze around them.
The air around them was stifling, especially so as she adjusted the straps on her black leather chest plate, greaves, and vambraces. She glanced down at her forearms, her eyes trailing up her own upper arm to look at the skin there. The eastern sun had tanned her once porcelain skin, emboldening the freckles that traced up her arm, but she only rubbed her skin absentmindedly. She glanced over to Perseus then, tucking an errant auburn curl over her head as she did so.
Perseus looked composed, stoic as the ritual was carried out in front of them. His jet-black hair mussed; his worn armor fitted perfectly over his tunic. The stubble he had when she had first met him had grown into a short-cropped beard, that still twitched and accented his jaw whenever he smirked or spoke. The only sign of his exhaustion were the deep dark purplish bags under his eyes, a trait that Artemis knew she shared with him.
She steadied her gaze back to Alexander and the priest of Zeus. Alexander, quiet, stepped forward and sliced his xiphos across the neck of the black-haired bull. It bucked once, its eyes wild before they rolled back, and the beast slumped to the ground on its knees. The priest quickly brought an earthenware bowl under the spurting wound, which spilt the thick red blood out in a torrent of death.
"Stick to the plan, Cleoxene. Don't be so nervous." Perseus muttered to her left, "I'll be there with you. Leave the Persians to us. You just watch for those Simurgh and Karkadann."
She scoffed, throwing aside the visions of a dead Perseus from her mind, "I'd feel safer if Leonphalos was next to you as well. The gods know that horse would rather kill you than let you die."
"I swear, he's been antsier ever since Poseidon came to our tent that night." Perseus sighed. She needed no reminder of which night that was, of course, but before the conversation could go any further into the outcomes of that night, the Macedonian horn was blown.
Immediately, hundreds shifted in place, as the call resounded throughout the Macedonian camp, the call to battle positions.
"Right, we have a battle to win," Perseus said, before he stood up straight and turned around to the odd dozen officers of the Pellians that had been standing so ways back during the ritual, "Lysander! Antitheses! Gather the men! We are to assemble on the right flank behind the Companions! Move!"
The rushing bodies of men from all parts of the army made the Macedonian camp beyond hectic as both she and Perseus gathered the Pellians. She saw the Greek mercenaries under Parmenion, Kleitos and his elite phalangites, Alexander with a troop of his most trusted companions, and even the Rhodian and Balearic skirmishers. It was remarkable how few she seemed to personally recognize as if each and everyone was another nameless face that she would never come to know.
The Macedonian syntagmas assembled at the outskirts of the camp, marching in perfect order with their sarissa spears raised high. A long, sixteen-man wide column formed behind the front ranks as each unit marched north, up and over the sand dunes. Alongside them strode the skirmishing units, much more liberally organized in their small united and gatherings. The Companion and other allied Greek cavalry had already ridden over the sand dunes. The Pellians had a unique challenge though. She waited with Perseus as the army marched, the sun making the mostly dull and worn armor of the Macedonians shine as if brand new. Sand and dust had billowed into the air, as 40,000 men marched to take their positions on the battlefield. Already, this dust was taken by the almost stagnant breeze that ambled through the valley. The last marching syntagma marked when they needed to move.
"Alright! Move out, Stay hidden within the dust, and gather behind the Companions!" Perseus shouted, raising his arm and gesturing to the right of the marching column of the Macedonian heavy infantry.
Perseus set off at a brisk jogging pace, which Artemis quickly fell into besides him. She heard the echoing sounds of the hundreds of Pellians, not quite at their original numbers of five hundred or so, but enough the overpower the steady rumble of the Macedonian phalangites.
Her hair bouncing behind her, Artemis squinted her eyes as she and Perseus led the Pellians down the marching column of the Macedonian army. She could see Perseus next to her, with sand and dust clinging to his hair and beard, but the soldiers to his left were only shadows and muddled shapes in her vision. They ran this was for a short while, the heat and dust clogging Artemis's nasal passages to the point where she almost stopped out of a fear of suffocating when she heard the distinct sound of hoofbeats up ahead. Perseus was also looking worse for wear besides her, but she jogged past him and squinted into the dust. It seemed to be clearing, and she could see formations of Macedonian infantry, and the shapes of hundreds of horses turning to the right, passing line upon line of the Macedonian phalanx, assembling into the staggered formation that Artemis remembered Alexander setting up in yesterday's war council.
She quickly tugged on Perseus's right shoulder, "There! We have to fall in line!"
"Understood! Tell the men! I'll shepherd them in!" Perseus bolted forward, before he stopped, and turned around, waiting for the Pellians.
Artemis pivoted on her sandals in the dry grassland and the cracked earth beneath her and ran back along the Pellian line. The dust was rapidly thinning, and their window was narrowing.
"Pellians, double time! Fall in behind the horses, move, move!" Artemis shouted, a familiar tone to the one she used every evening for the run she still directed the Pellians to accomplish around the Macedonian camp. Each and every Pellian was in great condition, with the stamina to run the whole day without the fear of collapsing. She ran up and down the line, just as the last syntagma was marching off to the left flank, the Pellians had grouped themselves behind the shifting and snorting horses of the Companions. Some riders and Pellians were exchanging quipping conversations, as the horses milled and turned, their riders resting their lancing spears on their feet, their purple capes draped down in the near windless air.
Artemis stepped forward, not seeing Perseus for the moment. She nodded to a couple of the familiar Pellians around her, before she stepped up behind two Companion riders, patting the sides of each horse. Their riders worn helmets, but she heard their quiet exclamations as she slipped between them, yarning to see the Persian battle lines.
"Is that… that is Cleoxene!"
"She's got Perseus wrapped around her finger…"
"His finger! More like her…" The horse next to her neighed loudly and she whipped around to afflict the rider who dared to make a comment with a piercing glare before she continued. She heard much of the same from other riders, though some either didn't notice her or were too focused on what they saw ahead. Finally, after passing at least enough Companions that had to have amounted to a ten-horse deep formation, Artemis found herself standing alongside a rider at the front of the formation and his dark grey mount. Stretched out in front of her was the arid cracked earth, with yellowed grasses clumped together in the larger cracks. On the other side of the plain, were the Persians. Artemis had seen the encampment up close, but even the thousands of campfires and horses paled in comparison to the sight before her.
First were the great beasts of the east. Karkadann. Elephants. And the eastern horses of Bactria, assembled in a line that stretched longer than the actual Macedonian-Greek army, as Artemis looked down their own lines. Persians rode each beast, their garb and wicker shields foreign and unknown to her, as each section of the army seemed to be from a different place within the Persian Empire itself. But each army present brought their own to the battlefield. The elephants, with gleaming tusks and armored trunks, with Persian skirmishers, sat in wooden towers atop them. Chariots, pulled by horses and Karkadann, the rhino-like beasts whose horns were longer than even those of the elephant tusks. Most of these were situated to the left, in the center, but there were five of these chariots and elephants directly across the battlefield from her position. Behind these machines of war were the Bactrian horsemen, armored in shingled metal and dark capes, wielding spears and blunted maces. But this was only the cavalry and beasts of war. The main Persian battle line stretched before the confines of its cavalry, almost three times as long as the Macedonian-Greek lines.
"By the gods…" the rider muttered besides her. She glanced up at him, her eyes still taking in the sights before her. She felt the cold weighted gripped of fear settle within her stomach, as she fingers twitched, itching to hold her bow or her hunting knives. But as she looked up at the trembling Companion besides her, she snapped out of that state of hopelessness. The grey horses' eyes flickered left and right, its ears flattened at the sides of its head as it stamped in place, smelling the fear of its rider no doubt. She stepped up to the side of the young man, and gave his mount a reassuring pat on the neck.
The Companion finally seemed to realize that someone was next to him.
"Who… o-oh! You are… Cleoxene, yes?" The man, stammered, before sitting upright on his horse. For the moment, his horse calmed, and the stamping of its hoof paused.
"I am. I assume you'd heard of me?" Artemis paused looking up at him. Now that she was closer, she saw that this companion was young, even more so than Perseus. Having learned of the Macedonian familial structure from Perseus, she could only assume that this was the son of one of the older Companions to Alexander.
"I-I have. I am Nikias, son of Nearchus." Artemis watched his hands clench and then release the spear at his side, and as he constantly adjusted the clasps of his cape, all while flicking his gaze over the battlefield.
"This is your first battle then?" Artemis cautioned, rubbing one of her hands over the mane of Nikias's horse.
"I…yes. How did you?" Nikias stumbled, before falling silent with a shaky sigh.
"It doesn't matter," Artemis shrugged, "I once was in your position. I see your fear. I am also scared, of that." She pointed towards the elephants and the Bactrian horsemen."
"Fear is a good thing. Fear keeps you alive. Succumbing to fear though, that will kill you. We all have our part to play in this battle, Nikias. I will do mine. If you do yours, there is no need to worry about what may not come to pass."
Suddenly, Artemis saw a flash of a black horse, and a leopard skin as Alexander himself rode past.
"- Honored your country, and your ancestors! And now we come to this most distant place in Asia—" The ringing words of Alexander's speech slowly faded away as he cantered away, down towards the center, as cheers and battle cries erupted from the Macedonian lines.
"So Nikias, son of Nearchus, do not fail. Stick to your Companions, fight strong, and we will prevail." Artemis stepped back and nodded to the young man.
"Thank you… Cleoxene. I will. Fight, that is," Nikias straightened, seeming to master the slight tremor in his voice and limbs for the time being. Artemis then turned, and slipped away through the horses, ignoring the mutters and murmurs of the Companions around her. She felt herself doubting the very words she had spoken and was troubled at how easy it was to instill a false sense of ease within others so readily. Why had she aimed to help that man? What purpose did it serve her own interests?
'Maybe it had served Perseus's?'
She shook off that errant thought, as she resolutely ignored any and all conversations from the Companions around her. The air smelled of horse dung, and sweat, as every mount and its rider seemed to prance in place, anxious for the battle ahead. Already, Artemis felt that coil of nerves make every step heavy her breath coming in shallow.
When she got back to the Pellians, all milling behind the Companions, she found Perseus almost immediately. The armor that the Pellians wore was almost negligible, as most only wore faded yellow-orange tunics. Perseus stood in the mass of them, talking with Lysander, and another Pellian she didn't personally recognize.
She strode towards that group, passing by a number of Pellians as the Macedonian army cheered, their sarissae thudding into the earth like a drumbeat that sent tremors through the ground.
"Stay calm, stay alert. We have the benefit of surprise. There are elephants and Karkadann opposite of us, as well as the Indian cavalry: aim for the riders if you can! A wounded beast is a more dangerous one!" Artemis yelled, meeting as many of the Pellians' gazes as she could. She knew these men, and they knew her. Unlike the Companions, this… this felt personal. While she didn't harbor any love for the Pellians, they reminded her of the innocents that war could shield, those who were here out of honor and duty. Striding down the line with hundreds of Companions and their horses to her left, the hundreds of Pellians to her right, she drew her bow, and quickly checked to make sure that the string was taut and that her arrows were all in place at her quiver.
The Pellians hadn't been on the verge of running, but their faces held overwhelmed expressions, as they could hear the steadily increasing volume of the Macedonian army, but could not see the Persians in front of them. Perseus now was just a stone's throw ahead of her, and as she continued to shout encouragements to the men she had trained for so long, she met his gaze, a warm, and confident expression that he had always looked at her with… a gaze of trust.
BWHAAAAA-BWHAAAAA
Artemis jerked her head over behind her as the two horn notes sounded out from the direction of the Macedonian center. The call was followed by another, then another, and soon, over a dozen had picked up the call.
BWHAAAAAAAAAAAAA
Artemis felt the tremors as hundreds upon hundreds of soldiers began to march in unison, as the sound of hoofbeats echoed through the symphony of noise surrounding the valley.
"That's the signal! Pellians, follow the Companions!" Perseus yelled, coming to the front of the skirmishers until he was within Artemis's own reach. Already, the horses were slowly veering right, breaking into a slow trot, that was slowly accelerating into a canter. The Pellians needed no extra encouragement, as the loose line formation broke around them as small groups and individual men all slotted themselves alongside the cantering line of the Macedonian heavy horse.
The air once more filled with dust as the Pellians, Perseus, and herself took long easy strides, mirroring the movement of the Companions to their left. Once or twice, Artemis met gazes with the cantering Macedonian riders, their purple capes snapped back, waving in the breeze. She tried to imagine what was on the other side. The thundering of the Persian's own Bactrian horse, alongside those elephants and Karkadann. And behind them, the impossibly long line of Persian infantry, with their oddly shaped wicker shields and clothed covered faces.
But Perseus was besides her, wearing his Companion helmet and armor, still easily keeping up at the brisk jogging pace. She didn't speak, nor did he, as the settled into the constantly shifting speeds of the Companions which alternated between trotting, walking, and the odd bursting canter. It was hard to judge the amount of time that had passed, but the constantly bulging of the Macedonian horns never ceased.
Perseus finally spoke, "I… know that signal," He panted, still fresh, but clearly the armor he was weighing him down, "The center has made contact."
Artemis was slightly stunned, "Even through the chariots… the Karkadann?!" She also puffed, choking as some dust travelled down her windpipe.
"You know… Kleitos, always looking for glory," Perseus muttered, barely audible over the echoing din of the trotting Companions and the blaring horns, "Wait for the signal… WAIT FOR THE SIGNAL!"
The last line was yelled over her shoulder, to the fifty or so Pellians within earshot of them, as Artemis heard the call being taken up down the line, through the thunder of hooves, the war drums, and the distant blaring horns.
All those fears, those persistent coils that made every step in the cracked earth before her feel like a marathon… they all focused in in her mind in an instant. Artemis almost lost her balance midstride, as she looked over to her… her Companion besides her, a man she had been on constant guard with for weeks following that night in their tent. The whole world around her seemed to fade away, the hooves and drums synonymous with her own heartbeat, thundering its own song within her chest.
"Perseus," Artemis said, thinking back to all those memories of the expedition, she needed—he needed to know, "Perseus, look at me!" She nearly shouted the command, as Perseus failed to hear her call his name.
He glanced over to her, shifting his stride to slide sideways while looking at her. She focused on the wound in his shoulder, the battered shield, and his sheathed sword before her gaze was drawn to his eyes, which pierced through her very soul.
"Perseus, I feel the same about you, I couldn't—I cannot let us go into battle without you knowing that much. I—" She cut herself off as the line of horsemen over Perseus's shoulder suddenly shifted, and they began to turn towards the Persian battle lines.
Perseus's eyes darted every which way, as the Companions behind him pivoted and veered back towards the center. For the first time, the Persian battle lines were revealed through the dust and the now scattered riders. There was a wild yell, that first started with a voice that sounded like Lysander, before the call was taken up by other Pellian officers. Some of the riders, not the heavily armored Companions, circled around the right flank. And then, in the open ground behind Perseus, were the Persians: the Bactrian cavalry that had been mirroring the Companions, Elephants, and the monstrous Karkadann. Already, Persian horsemen were peeling after the Companions in small numbers, but it seemed the Pellians were noticed, as dozens- hundreds of men rushed past Artemis and Perseus, shouldering their way forwards. The skirmishers loosed volley upon volley of rocks, arrows and the javelin men sprinted towards the started mounted Persians, closing the distance to throw their spears. The light cavalry of the Macedonian-Greeks that remained formed a hurried charge towards the Persian bannerman of the Bactrian cavalry.
It all came to her in slow motion, all centered upon Perseus, who stood in front of her. He smiled and drew his sword. His helmet gleaming in the hot desert sun, he stood there for a moment more, feet planted as he mouthed the words to her. She didn't hear him, over the sounds of the battle unfolding in front of her, but she read his lips all the same:
"Phoebe Artemis, I love you."
And Perseus pivoted to join the fray.
Perseus's form disappeared into a group of the rushing Pellians who charged toward the Persian cavalry. Already, Artemis saw riderless horses careening away from the skirmish in panic, and the frantic rearing horses, some struck by arrows, spears, and stone. The light Greek cavalry, hidden too amoung the Companions, slammed into the rattled Bactrian cavalry, and there was a horrendous symphony of screaming men and beasts erupting on the right as each force destroyed one another.
Artemis was already charging after Perseus, slipping through Pellians who had formed firing lines of slingers and archers, peppering the Persian lines of horsemen, still to stunned to charge. But the monstrous forms of the Indian elephants and Karkadann… they were not so easily rebuked. A missile sailed down next to her, hurled from the tower upon the nearest elephant's back, striking a Pellian in the chest. The man dropped to the ground with a gurgle dying in his throat as the arrow punched through his chest.
"Bring that Elephant down!" Artemis ordered, shoving a nearby Pellian, gesturing to the beast. The bull wore silver singled armor across the trunk and body, carrying a driver and two other Persians on his back. Already, half a dozen missiles struck the beast, but it was undaunted. It led the Persian charge, some number of Persian horsemen joining it, as the nearest Pellians were forced to retreat, throwing javelins and other missiles at the force while they ran.
More Persian missiles flashed down around her, as Artemis reeled around, dodging a javelin by a hands length that struck the ground where her leg had been just a moment before. This battle already felt like chaos incarnate. At every conflict before, she had control of the situation. Issus, Tyre, the Granicus. What was she to do? Men were dying, all around her. Should she shoot the Persians herself? The elephants? The horses? Before she could even process this, Artemis saw them coming out of the clear blue skies.
Simurghs. Diving straight out of the sun, hundreds of feet in the air, they dove not for the engaged Pellians, but for the galloping formation of the Companions, who streaked across the open plain before the two armies, charging to the right of the bristling forest of sarissa spears of the Macedonian center.
She had to stop this; this is why she was here. Anahita's machinations who mean her death.
"Pellians! Simurghs! You, you, you! On me!" Artemis yelled, pointing to a few groups of slingers and archers around her, mingled in different lines as they launched their missiles at the mass of Persians in front of them.
The Simurghs flew high over the battlefield, descending in a steady dive towards the rear ranks of the lumbering Companions. She had to redirect their attention.
"Simurghs, right side high! Aim! Aim!" Artemis yelled out her orders as she held her bow up, drawing an arrow from her quiver, sighting the beasts above her. It would be a distant shot, almost at the edge of her range. There were at least ten of the beasts, the suns rays making their feathers glow gold in the clear blue sky.
She heard the whistling and creaking of other slings and bows around her. She waited one last wingbeat, as she sighted the lead Simurgh, which was seconds away from diving down on the unaware Companions.
"Loose!
Her arrow leapt off the bowstring, arcing through the sky, its iron point gleaming in the sun as it gracefully sailed towards the Simurgh, silent amidst the roar of battle. Other stones and arrows joined hers, and for the moment, everything fell silent around her. The crashing of the elephant into the Pellian javelineers, the neighs and whines of the drying horses, the deep bellowing of the Karkadann that charged towards Perseus off to her right.
All was calm for that moment, as she watched at least thirty missiles flash down amoung the Simurghs. And then it all came back into focus as she felt a cool breeze slide across the nape of her neck, smelling of wet soil and bringing the sound of rustling reeds and the babble of a quiet stream.
She knew the feeling, the sudden breeze, and the feeling of that immortal power coming near. It was not Athena, Poseidon, or even Zeus's presence, but that of a familiar goddess, who had visited her once before, at Issus.
Artemis spun around and slipped her bow over her shoulder in one motion as she drew her two hunting knives. And there before her, as close as Alexander had been at the war council meeting, was Anahita. Where he had been graceful, ethereal before, now, she was dressed in immaculate armor in the style of the rivermen that Artemis had met not long ago before the Pellians and herself had been set upon the chimera. Her dark brown skin was smooth, blending with the ground around her as she seemed to step out of the ground itself, reeds spontaneously sprouting with every step of her bare, slender feet.
Anahita came to a stop, her long black hair flowing behind her, as the gentle breeze around her dropped, and Artemis could only stare into her dark black eyes.
"Hello again, Phoebe Artemis. I see you've survived," Anahita's voice shattered the calm ambience, as the breeze suddenly turned sour with the smell of rotting fish, and the reeds withered and fell to the cracked earth, browned and poisoned.