“Exactly,” the woman replied. “You saw it. You went to the future after correcting some of the Hystorians’ so-called Breaks. You saw a catastrophic future that you created. Again, you’re smart. Think about these things, and you’ll see that I’m right.”
Aristotle turned away from Tilda and walked to stand with Sera and her friends. Alexander, his guards, and Olympias did as well. They stood in a circle, their job now to decide the fate of the entire world. Maybe the universe. No biggie, Sera thought.
“I don’t trust this woman,” Alexander said. He still held his sword as if he wanted to strike the first person to disagree with him.
“Amen,” Dak added. “I don’t trust that lady any farther than Riq can throw Sera.”
Riq’s face wrinkled up in confusion for a second, but then he just shrugged. “She’s a trickster. Whatever she says we should do, I’m doing the opposite.”
Sera looked at Olympias, but the woman was silent, deep in thought.
Aristotle scratched his long beard and sighed heavily. Then he spoke.
“This woman believes what she’s saying. Of that, I have no doubt. But there’s also a . . . darkness about her. Not to mention the simple fact that she marched twenty armed men down here to kill the boy I spent years training to be a great king someday. And I feel the goodness in each of you.” He stepped forward and took a second to touch Dak, Sera, then Riq on the shoulder.
“I don’t even see a question, to be honest,” the philosopher said. “There’s no way in Hades or the halls of Zeus that I’ll let that woman take the life of Alexander.”
“He is the son of Zeus,” Olympias whispered distantly.
“I don’t need your help,” the young heir said, his eyes slightly moist. “But I appreciate the offer.”
Fear crawled like a caterpillar up Sera’s spine. They only had three soldiers, and Tilda had twenty.
“What are you thinking?” Dak whispered to her.
She shrugged. “I just don’t know what we’re going to do.”
Dak turned to Alexander. “Can you call more of your friends? It looks like we have pretty bad odds.”
Alex spun the sword in his hand. “Today you will learn the greatness of Alexander” was all he said, but it came out sounding like something that should be engraved on a plaque. The young man turned toward Tilda and stepped away from the circle of friends they’d formed, heading straight toward the woman.
“My lady!” he yelled out. “We have counseled with my teacher and master, the wisest man who has ever graced this world. And our decision was an easy one. We reject your foul proposal and order you to leave the lands of my mother, Olympias of Epirus, daughter of King Neoptolemus. Leave, or the punishment will be severe.”
“So be it.” Tilda nodded, then took slow and steady steps backward, her eyes never leaving Alexander. The soldiers she’d hired parted to let her pass, and soon all of them were once again in front of her, a shield of armed and angry men.
“Kill them,” she said, as calmly as the most seasoned battle commander.
“But, Tilda!” Olympias screamed, finally coming alive. “You were my friend! We were like sisters!”
Tilda frowned. “Be sure and kill her, too.”
ANY EMPATHY or understanding Riq had felt for Tilda vanished as quickly as a drop of water thrown into a fire. He almost sensed it leave his mind, like a tangible thing. The woman had been doing her best to brainwash them, but the spell was finally broken.
The soldiers she’d brought along started marching forward, drawing swords and daggers and spears. Their walk turned into a trot, then a run. Roaring battle yells, they charged in to do as their master had ordered.
A cold rush of terror washed through Riq, knowing they had absolutely no chance of fighting against all those muscles and weapons. Unless somehow they could wrestle a couple of the soldiers down, maybe steal their weapons . . .
He looked at Sera, and his heart hurt to see how scared she was. Dak, too. It was up to him, then. He would gladly sacrifice himself to ensure all they’d fought for wasn’t lost now, with victory so close.
He took a step forward, but Sera grabbed his arm. “What are you doing?” she hissed.
“Hold,” Alexander suddenly said. Riq had been focused on Tilda’s group, but now he saw that Alex and his two guards had formed a line, swords drawn, their bodies rigid in a fighting stance.
“Hold,” the future king repeated, louder because the small army of soldiers was almost on them, screaming and yelling and clanging their weapons, feet pounding the ground like horses’ hooves.
“Hold!” Alex shouted again, a thundercrack of sound that overwhelmed everything else. The charging army was only fifteen feet away. “NOW!”
Riq actually jumped at the boom of the last word, its echo bouncing off the shields of the soldiers as if they were cliff walls. And then he witnessed a flurry of movement and speed that he hadn’t known possible.
Alex and his guards swept forward in a burst, their swords swinging through the air as if powered by great machines, cutting and slashing. Their free hands held daggers, which jabbed and stabbed in unsuspected places, felling their foes as surely as the huge blades. One by one, Tilda’s soldiers fell to the ground, writhing in agony, bleeding, screaming. Alexander in particular was like a tornado of human flesh, his movements a blur, his feet dancing, his sword flashing in the sun as it cut down one man after another.
Riq watched, stunned, caught between surprise and wanting to jump up and down to cheer their hero. Dak had no reservations. He was cheering, pumping his fists as he did so.
Olympias had a huge smile on her face, beaming with pride. She turned to the others and spoke over the sounds of clashing battle. “He’s the greatest soldier to ever live. Someday he’ll make a great king. I’ve given my whole life to making sure that happens.”
That last part gave Riq the chills because he knew exactly what she had up her sleeve to ensure Alexander became the hegemon sooner than later.
“Guys, look!” Sera shouted, pointing beyond where Alexander and his two buddies were slowly but surely winning their small war.
Riq did as she said, and saw Tilda running. She had the Eternity Ring gripped in her hands and was sprinting all out for a thicker grouping of trees on the edge of the huge lawn.