The messenger, having gotten his attention, ran up to him and, panting, handed him a note.

  Antigonus read the note.

  Attalus with force of ten thousand approaching along Euphrates River. Six thousand foot, three thousand horse, and a thousand auxiliaries. He is some five days travel from the walls of Babylon.

  Antigonus had been wrong. The day could get better. He crumpled the note and strode along the walls with a grin on his face. Not that there was any rush. Five days was plenty of time to make things ready for his guests. They wouldn’t be staying long, after all.

  ☆ ☆ ☆

  Menander and Leonnatus were waiting for Antigonus when he reached the palace.

  “What are we going to do?” Menander asked.

  For just an eyeblink Antigonus was stopped by the worry in Menander’s tone. Then he laughed out loud. “We are going to rip Attalus and his army to shreds. That’s what we are going to do. And by the time those spoiled girls and their Thrachian lapdog Eumenes are finished writing up their document, they will look up to see they have no empire left for it to govern.”

  Leonnatus joined in the laughter and after a moment so did Menander.

  Queen of the Sea, Athens port at Piraeus

  September 28

  “Miss Kinney, how long are we going to delay for this conference?” Aristotle Edfu asked.

  “What’s the problem, Aristotle?”

  “I have goods to deliver in Rome and Constantinople and I need to acquire latex from New America. This delay is costing me money and I am not the only one.”

  “The problem is the Reliance. It was delayed in New America. The punitive raid had some unsuspected consequences that didn’t come up until after we were on our way.”

  “What consequences?” By his tone, Aristotle wasn’t happy to be hearing about it now.

  “Nothing dire. In fact, just the opposite. After the raid, two of the other tribes on Trinidad asked to join New America.”

  “I heard about that.”

  “But it wasn’t just them. A set of the coastal tribes from Venezuela have also offered tentative feelers about joining New America. President Wiley is using the Reliance to go along the coast, picking up delegations.”

  “Ah, I understand. The Reliance is delayed, and the Queen will use more fuel moving than we do just sitting here.”

  “That, and we don’t want to show up in Alexandria with empty tanks and have to deal with your father and Ptolemy to buy fuel oil.”

  “I’m certain we can work something out with my father, Miss Kinney.” Then, seeing her expression, he asked, “Is there anything you can do to get the Reliance headed this way? We need to make a circuit of the Med if nothing else, to let the observers report back to their respective states.”

  “There is the radio system.”

  “Not every city has a radio station,” Aristotle muttered, and it was true.

  “I’ll see what I can do, Aristotle. But the convention is important.”

  “Yes, I know. What is the latest news? I haven’t been attending the meetings.”

  ☆ ☆ ☆

  “I don’t see why imperial law should supersede satrapy law,” Laomedon complained. Thaïs and several other delegates slapped their hands on their tables in support.

  Marie Easley raised a hand before Eurydice could say something rude. Eurydice was a persuasive speaker, but she lacked anything remotely like patience in dealing with anyone except Philip III.

  Phocion, the president of the convention, called on Marie with almost indecent haste. Not because he was fond of Marie Easley. He wasn’t. He considered her to be much too smart to be a proper woman. But he knew from experience that Eurydice would likely ignore him if he called on one of the men instead of her.

  “We need a universal structure of rules, else the conflicts between the satraps will lead to wars between them and the empire will tear itself apart. Besides…” Marie paused and looked around the room. “…this convention derives its authority from the queens-regent. That gives them effective veto power.”

  Roxane lifted a hand demurely, while Eurydice stabbed at the ceiling with her whole arm.

  Phocion called on Roxane.

  “Eurydice and I will not endorse or accept a constitution that is designed to fail.” She looked over at the table that held Thaïs and Laomedon. “So, when a law made by the imperial council is in conflict with a law passed within a single satrapy—or even all the satrapies—the law of the imperial council will take precedence. We will not yield on that.”

  “And we,” Laomedon shouted without waiting to be called on, “will not be dictated to like spoiled children! We must have a say in the laws that govern us!”

  More table pounding. Laomedon was proving much more effective as a politician than he ever had been as a general.

  ☆ ☆ ☆

  “Captain, when can we get underway again?” Eleanor Kinney asked. “Aristotle buttonholed me this morning, and he wasn’t the first.”

  “The Reliance is on its way, so we will be making the Mediterranean circuit starting in the morning,” Captain Floden informed her. “Albrecht Niebaum called us from Ostia complaining over the delay, and he also informed me that Stalia, what was going to end up as Genoa in our history, has requested a radio. So we will be going all the way up the Italian coast, then around to Formentera, and back along the North African coast.”

  “How are the delegates taking the news?”

  “Quite well. Though I suspect that sightseeing will cause delays in their deliberations.”

  Ostia

  September 30

  Rome was eighteen miles up the Tiber River. There was no Coliseum to look at, nor were most of the roads or aqueducts in existence. It was the center of an empire, but an itty-bitty one. There would be no tours of Rome. But the Queen did pick up twenty passengers, members of the senatorial and equestrian class. And Titus Venturis Calvinus got to make an in-person report to the present consuls of Rome, who came down to Ostia to see the Queen.

  After introducing the consuls to sweet potato pie, chocolate, and yerba mate, Titus learned that Attalus was attacking Babylon. They had gotten it over the radio located at Ostia, which was managed by Albrecht Niebaum.

  Babylon

  September 30

  Attalus looked at the walls of Babylon, so close he could almost touch them and as far as the moon. Just as they had come in sight of Babylon his scout had reported a large force of cavalry on the Tigris River, just the other side of Babylon. Four thousand, if his scouts were right. And that spelled disaster for Attalus.

  He could turn around and retreat back up the Euphrates, but to do so was to grant Antigonus One-eye the victory without cost. To announce to his own army that he had wasted their time and strength in a fool’s quest. That would strengthen Antigonus and destroy Attalus.

  Babylon was a rectangle of a city that was built on both sides of the Euphrates River, with triple walls behind wide moats. Attalus had expected Antigonus to come out to meet him—or, to huddle in the city. And he had plans for both contingencies. He would have used his infantry to pin Antigonus in the open field when he came out. And if Antigonus hid behind the walls, Attalus would put the city under siege and have old One-eye trapped, leaving the royal forces free to restore order throughout Alexander’s realm.

  What Attalus hadn’t expected was this. He couldn’t besiege Babylon without being harried by the cavalry, and he couldn’t catch the cavalry with his infantry. He didn’t have enough cavalry to face Antigonus. If he let it get separated from his infantry, he would invite defeat in detail.

  Polemon rode up. “What now, Attalus?”

  Attalus wanted to punch the arrogant bastard, but he didn’t. “We take Nuchar across from the King’s Gate. We’ll camp there and build defenses against the cavalry.”

  “Then what?”

  With sudden inspiration, Attalus said, “We send out some patrols and find some boats.”

  ☆ ☆ ☆

&nbs
p; It took several days, during which cavalry skirmishes determined that the cavalry contingents of the two forces were about equal on a man-for-man basis. But Antigonus’ army had more cavalry. Without the infantry to hide behind, Attalus’ cavalry would be defeated. Not easily and not without inflicting heavy losses on Antigonus’ cavalry, but defeated.

  Babylon

  October 5

  Attalus boarded the boat with his bodyguards. There weren’t enough of the boats to hold his entire infantry force. Most of them would be making a diversion against the King’s Gate. But as soon as the sun went down, Attalus and five hundred picked infantry were going to float downriver and hit the western part of the city from the river.

  One of the many things that Attalus should have realized—but didn’t—was that Antigonus had spies in his forces.

  ☆ ☆ ☆

  Antigonus, too, waited for the sun to go down.

  Josif looked at his commander. “Should…”

  Antigonus was shaking his head. “No. Not until we see the signal. I want them fully engaged.”

  They waited. Waited as the infantry made a diversion against the King’s Gate. Waited as Menander moved the infantry in the west half of the city to the walls, just as Attalus would expect.

  There was a flash in the distance, a fire covered and uncovered…once…twice…thrice.

  “They have pushed off the boats.”

  “Another few minutes, Josif. Let them think they are winning for a little longer.”

  “I’m more worried about Menander thinking they’re winning,” Josif muttered, and Antigonus laughed. He had not warned Menander about the enemy’s diversionary attack against the walls, or—especially—about the boats. Partly that was because he wanted Menander reacting as he would do if it was real, but it was mostly because he didn’t want Menander talking and word leaking back to Attalus’ forces. A decisive victory here, and he might well be strong enough to declare his independence, even if the kings were still alive.

  ☆ ☆ ☆

  Leonnatus chugged the wine and grabbed the girl. And it was a girl, perhaps sixteen, perhaps less. But he wasn’t interested in talking politics with her. He nuzzled her neck and squeezed her breast, then jerked away as a guard pounded on the door frame. “What?” he roared. “And it had better be important.”

  “The enemy is attacking the King’s Gate.”

  “So what? Why tell me? That’s Menander’s part of the city.”

  ☆ ☆ ☆

  The boats floated through the gloomy night and no one noticed the demonstration against the King’s Gate had done an admirable job of fixing the enemy’s attention away from the Euphrates.

  ☆ ☆ ☆

  “Mount up!” Antigonus roared.

  The call was repeated and in less than a minute five thousand cavalry were mounted and ready to ride. They started slow. These weren’t the heavy cavalry of later centuries, but they were still armored men on horseback. They would hit the infantry like a hammer unless the infantry was ready, with its sarissa pointed in the right direction. Right now, most of that infantry was standing on the banks of the moat around Babylon, making noise and doing an admirable job of keeping the attention of the city’s defenders.

  They weren’t expecting Antigonus to be ready for this or to move this fast.

  “At the trot.”

  The cavalry moved out.

  ☆ ☆ ☆

  Attalus looked up at the shout. They had been spotted. That was no real surprise. If anything, Attalus was surprised that they had gotten this close. They were less than a hundred yards from the walls.

  The walls along the Euphrates were not high or strong. They couldn’t be. The river was festooned with docks to bring in food and raw materials, and to take out finished goods and fertilizer.

  “Move!” Attalus shouted.

  And they moved.

  Up to then, they had been drifting with the current, using their paddles just enough to keep them near the center of the river. Now they rowed like their lives depended on it.

  ☆ ☆ ☆

  Menander was on the walls, watching Attalus’ infantry try to get into position to stop Antigonus’ cavalry. He was considering a sally in support of Antigonus, but he didn’t have any cavalry. Antigonus had taken it all. He was, as it happened, less than a hundred feet from the King’s Gate, and all the way across the western city from the river.

  A runner had been sent to inform Menander of the attack on the river, but in the dark it was taking him more time than it should have, and the noise from outside the wall masked anything Menander might have heard from the river.

  So Menander watched the shadows and torches across the moat.

  ☆ ☆ ☆

  It took Polemon a few vital minutes to understand the intent of the distant shouts. He turned in the saddle and peered into the night. But Polemon didn’t have great night vision and at first he didn’t recognize the darker mass moving along the ground.

  By the time he did understand, it was too late.

  He tried. He gave the right orders to re-form the infantry to face the cavalry. But it was too late.

  A phalanx of Greek hoplites doesn’t turn quickly, and sarissa-carrying Macedonian infantry makes snails seem agile.

  Polemon’s infantry were in the middle of the evolution when Antigonus led his cavalry into their flank.

  Bolstered by the Silver Shields, the infantry did a decent job. They held together and took losses. Heavy losses. But they managed to hold the cavalry for several minutes. Polemon was right with them, leading by example. He fell too, but not for several minutes. And the hand he fell to was Antigonus’ own.

  ☆ ☆ ☆

  Even as Polemon was dying, Attalus won the docks of the west side of Babylon, and his five hundred men were inside the city with only light casualties. They quickly moved west to secure the Samas Gate from the rear, but there was no one outside in a position to exploit the breach. For most of the night, the battle raged.

  Attalus ordered some of his men to steal horses and try to contact the forces outside. The battle raged on, men fighting and dying in the dark, mostly not knowing who was who, except increasingly those on horseback were assumed to be Antigonus’ men and those on foot Attalus’.

  That was close enough to true. By late in the night, most of Attalus’ cavalry had either run off or retreated into the city by way of the Samas Gate.

  ☆ ☆ ☆

  The morning light showed Attalus in control of Babylon west of the Euphrates. There was still fighting in Attalus’ part of the city, but he held the walls and had enough men in the city to continue to hold them. Almost all of Attalus’ army that had made it to the Samas Gate were cavalry. His infantry had been shattered, and those not killed were captured.

  The morning light also showed that Antigonus was in control of Attalus’ army’s baggage train.

  Both generals had led from the front, but Attalus’ position had prevented him from seeing or responding to Antigonus’ attack. And Antigonus, even knowing it was coming, had failed to counter Attalus’ capture of the west side of Babylon.

  In the next few years, this battle would be taught in the ship people’s war college as an example of why leading from the front is a bad idea.

  Babylon

  October 6

  Antigonus rode up to the King’s Gate only to hear a shout from the walls. “We’ve read the butterfly book!”

  “So have I!” Antigonus roared back. “It doesn’t matter, I have your baggage train! I have your women and your daughters! I even have your food!”

  “There’s plenty of food in Babylon, and we have half the city! And we have your women too, you old bastard!”

  That was true. Antigonus’ baggage train had been placed in Babylon for safety, but much of it—at least the common soldiers’ part of it—was in the west, the poorer side of the city. Antigonus’ own wife and family were in the eastern part. He could murder their women or give them to his men, but the confusion of the n
ight battle had left both armies savaged. Attalus’ worse than his, but his cavalry had taken a beating too. He wasn’t in a position to exploit the weakness of Attalus’ army, especially since a good chunk of Attalus’ cavalry had escaped into Babylon late in the battle. Attalus had over two thousand men in the western part of Babylon, which gave him more men than Menander had.

  More importantly, he had to do something…or did he? He had cavalry, more of it than Attalus did. He had captured most of Attalus’ infantry. He could operate and contain Attalus. Again Antigonus was tempted to make a demonstration—kill off the prisoners, sell their wives and concubines to the slavers. But he knew that with the damn butterfly book it would be trumpeted to the world as betrayal, not just punishment of undisciplined troops.

  He turned to one of his officers and started giving orders. He would offer the captured infantry a choice. Join him or be made slaves. He still wouldn’t be able to trust them, but he could use them here in Babylon to guard Attalus in his prison.

  Yes. Turn the west side of Babylon into Attalus’ prison, put guards around it, and let them stew. He doubted that Attalus would do nearly so well as Eumenes did in that other history. Meanwhile, Antigonus would take most of his army west.

  Queen of the Sea, in the Mediterranean

  October 11

  Joshua Varner was the first to get the news. He was babysitting the forward communications array. They didn’t have satellites anymore, and he was working on converting his sat links to something more useful in the third century before Christ.

  Attalus attacks Babylon.

  The report went on to describe the battle in terms that were more suited to hyperbole than to proper reporting. He sent back asking for clarification, but the radio station at Tyre didn’t have any more. It was a dispatch delivered by a dispatch rider, and the rider himself hadn’t been anywhere near the battle. He was the fifth rider on the route and didn’t know any more than he had already reported.