Greek Series 02 - Dark Prince

Greek Series 02 - Dark Prince Read Online Free PDF Page A

Book: Greek Series 02 - Dark Prince Read Online Free PDF
Author: David Gemmell
muscles wasting.
    With infinite care Derae healed the bone, eliminating adhesions, relieving the pressure on the swollen nerve points, forcing blood to flow over the injured tissue.
    Drawing herself back into her body, the priestess sighed and swayed. Instantly a man leapt forward to assist her, his hand brushing against her arm.
    'Leave me be!' she snapped, pulling away from him.
    'I am sorry, lady,' he whispered. Waving her hand, she smiled in his direction.
    'Forgive me, Laertes. I am tired.'
    'How did you know my name?' the man asked, his voice hushed. Derae laughed then.
    'I heal the blind and no one questions my Gift. The lame walk and people say, "Ah, but she is a Healer." But so simple a matter as knowing an unspoken name, and there is awe. You touched me, Laertes. And in touching me gave up all your secrets. But fear not, you are a good man. Your daughter was kicked by a horse, yes?'
    'Yes, lady.'
    'The blow injured the bones of her back. I have taken away the pain and tomorrow, when I have rested, I will heal her. You may stay here this evening. My servants will bring you food.'
    'Thank you,' he said. 'I have money. . . ' Waving him to silence Derae walked away, her step sure. Two female servants pulled open the altar room doors as she approached, a third taking her arm in the corridor beyond and leading the blind Healer to her room.
    Once inside, Derae sipped cool water and lay down on the narrow pallet bed. So many sick, so many injured . . . each day the queues beyond the Temple grew. At times there were fights, and many of those who finally reached her had been forced to bribe their way to the altar room. Often during the last few years Derae had tried to put a stop to the practice. But, even with her powers, she could not fight human nature. The people beyond the Temple walls had a need only she could satisfy. And, where there was need, there was profit to be made. Now a Greek mercenary called Pallas had thirty men camped before the Temple. And he organized the queues, selling tokens of admission to the supplicants, establishing some order to the chaos.
    Unable to thwart him fully, Derae had demanded he allow five poor people a day to be led to her, against ten of the richer. He had tried to trick her on the first day, and she had refused to see anyone. Now the system worked. Pallas hired servants, cooks, maids, gardeners, to tend to Derae's needs. But even this irritated her, for she knew he merely wanted her time spent earning him money by healing the sick, and not engaged in useless pursuits like gardening, which she loved, or cooking or cleaning. And yet, despite the motive, it did mean that more people were being cured.
    Should I be grateful to him, she wondered? No. Greed was his inspiration, gold his joy.
    She pushed all thoughts of him from her mind. Closing her blind eyes, Derae floated clear of her body. There was freedom here, with the flight of Spirit; there was even joy in the form of a transient happiness free of care. While her body rested Derae flew across the Thermaic Gulf, high above the trident-shaped lands of the Chalcidice and on across the Pierian mountains to Thessaly, her spirit called there by the lover of her youth.
    So long ago now, she realized. Thirty years had passed since she and Parmenion lay together in Xenophon's summer home, lost in the exuberance of their youthful passion.
    She found him in the captured city of Pagasai, walking from the palace. His step was unsteady and she saw that he had been drinking. But more than this, she sensed the sadness within him. Once Derae had believed they would spend their lives together, willingly locked into love, chained by desires that were not all of the flesh. Not all. . . ?

    She remembered his gentle touch, the heat of his body upon hers, the softness of his skin, the power in the muscles beneath, the warmth of his smile, the love in his eyes. . . . Despair whispered across her soul.
    She was now an ageing priestess in a far-off temple,
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