The meadow was flooded with spring light and dotted with flower-seas

The meadow was flooded with spring light and dotted with flower-seas Alexander ran across it.

Half naked and barefoot, he moved quickly against the wind that blew through his hair and brought with it a slight smell of sea pray.

Peritas was running alongside, checking his pace so as not to overtake his master and lose him. Now and again he barked to attract Alexander's attention and the Prince turned towards the dog and smiled , but without stopping.

It was one of those moments in which Alexander gave free rein to his spirit, in which he flew like a bird, galloped like a steed. It was then that his ambiguous and mysterious centaur- like nature – violent and sensitive, dark and sunny at one at the same time – seemed to find expression in harmonious movement, in a sort of initiatory dance under the shinning light of the sun or in the sudden shade of a cloud.

With which each stride his sculptured body first contracted and then extended in a long movement, his golden hair bounced soft and bright on his back like a mane, and his graceful arms accompanied the rise and fall of his chest in the brisk labour of his running.

Philip watched him in silence, sitting immobile on horseback at the edge of the wood. Then when he realized they were close now and heard the dog's barking suddenly on spotting him, he spurred on his steed and came alongside his son, waving his hand, smiling even, but without stopping him, enchanted as he was by the power of that running and the wonder of those indefatigable limbs.

Alexander stopped on the bank of a small river and dived into the water. Philip dismounted and waited for him. The boy leaped out of the stream together with the dog and they both shook the water from their bodies. Philip embraced his son hard and left Alexander's equally strong grip – tangible proof that his child had become a man.

'I have come to collect you,' he said. 'We're going home.'

Alexander looked at him in disbelief. 'Is that the King's word?'

'The king's word,' assured Philip. 'But the day will come when you will remember this period of your life with regret for its ever having come to and end. I never had such fortune; I had no songs, nor poetry, nor wise lecturers. And this is why I am so tired, son, for this is why my years weigh so heavily on me.'

Alexander said nothing and they walked together through the meadow, towards the house: the young man followed by his dog, the father holding his horse by its bridle.

Suddenly, from behind a hill that hid the view of the Mieza, there came the sound of a horse neighing. It was an acute, penetrating sound, a powerful call like that of a wild beast, or a chemical creature. And then there come the sound of men shouting, calling and powerful hooves all shod with bronze that made the earth tremble.

The neighing came again, more acute and angrier this time. Philip turned towards his son and said, ' I have brought you a present.'

They reached the top of the hill and Alexander stopped in amazement: below, there before him, a black stallion reared up onto his hind legs, shining with sweat like a bronze statue under the rain, held by five men with ropes and bridles in their hands, all trying to keep the animal's formidable power under control.

From the book: Alexander: Child of A Dream. By Valerio Massino Manfredi. Translated by Iain Halliday