were ruled by kings. For with free states it would not be difficult to make peace when we wished, but with tyrants we could not even form an affiliation on which we could rely. Democracies and dictators cannot exist together! Every dictator is an enemy of freedom, and Philip means to end the freedom of Athens!"
Again the crowd roared with approval, stamping and clapping, cheering, whistling, waving scarves to show their enthusiasm.
And in the midst of the uproar the assassins struck.
I had been standing beside Alexandros and his four Companions, all of us dressed in plain homespun chitons and leather jerkins. None of us wore anything rich or conspicuous; Alexandros' fingers were bare, and the short swords we carried were plain and undecorated.
While Demosthenes spoke the crowd surged forward slightly, as if eager to be closer to their idol. A few men pushed between me and Hephaistion, who was standing directly beside Alexandros on one side. Alexandros had hisarm upon the taller Hephaistion's shoulder, helping himself to stand tip-toe. Another man wedged himself between meand the young men. I turned and saw that three more werenow standing just behind Ptolemaios and lanky Harpalos. Nearkos was too short for me to see in the crowd that waspressing around us.
But I could see Alexandros' golden mane easilyenough, and realized that it stood as an easy identification for anyone who wanted to find him. As the crowd brokeinto its thunderous ovation one of the rough-clad men whohad pushed up to us stepped sideways, behind Alexandros. I saw his hand go to his belt and I knew he was going tothrust a dagger into Alexandros' back.
"Behind you!" I shouted in the Macedonian dialect, bellowing as loud as I could over the roar of the crowd. I tried to plunge through the men separating us but suddenly my arms were pinned behind me and a swarthy short man with a scar halfway down his face was shoving a dagger at my belly.
My senses went into overdrive and the world around me slowed to a dreamlike lethargy. I kicked at the scar-faced man's leg as I twisted my body sideways, spoiling his aim enough so that I took his dagger in my side instead of straight-on. I felt it go in and slice through me as my bodyinstantly dampened the pain messages along my nerves andclamped down on the severed blood vessels.
My kick knocked the scar-faced knife wielder backward a step. I stamped on the foot of the man pinning myright arm as hard as I could and yanked my arm free while I saw that Hephaistion had shoved the other assassin from Alexandros' back, but now the boys were surrounded by at least a dozen armed men.
I punched the man holding my left arm between the eyes. As he collapsed I swung my right arm back and smashed the other one with my elbow. With my freed left hand I hit scar-face, still trying to recover his balance, squarely in the jaw and he went down, blood spurting from his mouth. Then I leaped into the ring of knife-wielding men who had surrounded Alexandros.
The fight ended as quickly as it started. They broke and turned tail, disappearing into the crowd. By the time a local constable came up, frowning and officious, it was all over. Hephaistion had been nicked in the arm; I had been sliced in my side but I was consciously willing the muscles beneath my skin to hold the wound tightly together, and the blood was already coagulating.
The constable wanted to know our names and what the fight was about.
"They were cutpurses, obviously," I said. "And stupid ones at that, since there isn't one purse among the five of us."
He scowled at me, then glanced back and forth among the youths. "Names," he demanded. "I must have your names and places of residence."
Alexandros, red-faced with fury, blurted, "I am Alexandros, son of Philip of Macedon. And if this is the way your noble city treats its guests, then my father is far too lenient with you."
With that he strode off, his Companions around him. I followed them, leaving the constable standing
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