Forest Child Chapter 6

Phillip had been dead five years and the civil unrest that followed was still rambling on. After his death those that had been conquered by Phillip rebelled against Alexander as his successor. They had not counted on Alexander's ability to match his father's quest for war and winning battles. As the conflict entered its fifth year Alexander began to build a reputation of his own, one that already surpassed his fathers. Alexander sat rubbing his eyes before dealing with the numerous reports, charts and maps that lay before him. He picked up a spy report. He read it numerous times before letting out a troubled sigh. Putting it aside he picked up another. The enemy had reinforcements coming and judging by the reports they would arrive in two days time. If Alexander allowed this to happen then they would out number his army by five to one. He began to trace the route it said they would take with his fingertips on the map. If he took a small taskforce and employed guerilla war fair he could attack them at the narrowest point where they would have to travel in single file to get through. He stood up and acknowledged the servants that were standing by quietly until needed. They had to know their masters needs before Alexander knew them himself. Three of them went to collect the men that were need while the remaining two helped Alexander into his armor. He was battle ready by the time Ptolemy Cassandra, Cleitus and Craterus came. Each man had selected a small number of their own. Perfect for a pre emptive strike.

Alexander lay in wait. Something uneasy was in the air and every so often he would glance around as if something was watching him closely and it made him shiver. The sound of horses made him look back around. They were coming but something wasn't right. Alexander gripped his sword so tight that his knuckles turned white. Something was telling him not to attack as he had been misinformed about what was coming his way. He shook his head to rid himself of these thoughts. He raised the Macedon battle cry and leapt forth. His plan to surprise the enemy worked but these were not the rag tag bunch of mercenary that the reports had promised. These were seasoned soldiers that were quick to regroup and start fighting back.

Someone has betrayed me Alexander thought has he fought for his life and that of his men. But who. They were such a small group and very quickly they lost control of the situation.

"Retreat!" He called

The cry was taken up by the rest and they began to fall back. As they made back through the trees a rain of arrows began. They had concealed they archer well, high up in the trees. Alexander heard a whoosh of air then he was on the ground. Looking down his body he saw an arrow stick out of his thigh. He tried to stand by roaring out on pain he collapsed back on the ground. He shouted for his men to come back but his cried fell on deaf ears and every soon he found himself surround by the enemy. They stood with their weapons pointing at him and were very alert.

"Go on cowards." He snarled at them "Kill me."

But no killing below came. He began to taunt them but still they remained unfazed.

"But silent tyrant king or I will be forced to cut out your tongue."

The crowd parted to allow the speaker to come forth. He was a tall arrogant man whose armor was more for display rather than battle. He was joined by an older gentleman who was carrying the tools of a physician.Alexander glared at him as he stood above him. He flinched as the arrow shaft was snapped and the wound was quickly dealt with. As much as he didn't want the enemy to put his hands on his person Alexander was too weak to tell them otherwise but he did not give them the satisfaction of hearing him scream in pain.

"My name is Demeas, and we don't wish to kill you only maim. The trap worked thanks to our spies in your camp. Right now they will be spreading the rumors that you died, sacrificing yourself so that your men could get away. " He took hold of Alexander's chin digging his fingers into the hinges of Alexander's mouth "You will be taken back to our camp before begin take to my masters. They have paid a lot of money for you as will I once I have delivered you to them. " Alexander was pulled up by the underarms. His hands were bound and then tied to the back of a powerful gray warhorse that had been brought forth. Demeas stood up and mounted the animal. He turned at the waist to look back at Alexander.

"It will bring me great pleasure to be the one that brings you in."

The walk was slow going. Alexander was poked and prodded if he began to drag behind until Demeas lost his temper and demanded that someone else take the burden of the prisoner just as long as he is true to his words. So outside the main camp Alexander was once again tied to the back of Demeas' horse and paraded through the camp. Throughout Alexander kept his head held high and natural faced. It was only when they left him alone in a tent bound, blindfolded and gagged did he began to show any feelings.

The walk and the position they had left him in agitated his leg wound. Under the quickly applied bandage the wound and surrounding flesh pulsated and burned. Alexander was sure that some of the stitches had broken leaving blood free to run downwards and pool under his feet. But instead of wallowing in self pity and hurt Alexander raged at the betrayal. The sound of someone entering the tent made his head snap around to where he thought the sound had come from. He could feel it was not the heavy movements of a solider nor was it the arrogant swagger of Demeas. This person tread softly almost carefully as not to disturbed, a servant or slave perhaps. Crouching down beside him before the blindfold was loosened and removed.