Alexander (Vol. 3) (Alexander Trilogy)
‘Quite. An almost thirty-year-old virgin and a wife you haven’t seen for almost four years are both desirous of your services.’
Alexander seemed to reflect for a moment on these words before he murmured, ‘How time flies.’
Then he approached her, looked her straight in the eyes and asked, ‘Have you come to offer me your love, or to challenge me?’
‘To challenge you? Why should I? I will wait in the room next door while you make my sister happy – she is the newly wed and she has every right to the prime of your strength,’ replied Stateira with the most inviting of smiles. She gave him a kiss and then retired to her room, closing the door behind her.
The King slept with both of his Persian wives that night, first with Barsine and then with Stateira, but when Stateira had fallen asleep, he covered her with a chlamys and went out into the corridor. He looked around and saw that everything was quiet, then he went down the stairs, walked across the courtyard and went to Roxane in the royal apartments. He tried not to make any noise, but when he lay down alongside her, she turned suddenly and lashed out like a fury, throwing punches and scratching him with her nails. ‘You still smell of that woman and you dare come near me!’ she shouted.
Alexander grabbed her wrists and pinned her down on the bed. She wriggled and twisted and panted beneath him, but Alexander said nothing. He let her shout and then cry disconsolately for as long as it took. In the end he let her go and he lay down alongside her once more, waiting for all her wrath and her pain to subside.
‘I’ll go if you want me to,’ he said.
Roxane did not reply.
‘I had explained to you that I was going to marry Barsine and that Stateira was to return. A king has certain duties—’
‘But that makes no difference!’ shouted Roxane. ‘Do you think the fact it’s your duty makes me feel any better?’
‘No, I don’t think that,’ replied Alexander. ‘That’s why I asked you if you want me to leave.’
‘And you really would go?’ she asked.
‘Only if you wanted me to,’ replied the King, ‘but I hope you don’t ask me to because you are the only woman I will love for the rest of my days.’
Roxane was silent for a long time, then she said, ‘Alexandre
‘Yes.’
‘If you do it again I will kill myself, and your child will die together with me. I am pregnant.’
Alexander held her hand firmly, in silence, in the dark.
*
On the following day the King announced that he personally would clear the debts of all those Macedonian soldiers who had borrowed money. Initially many of them did not dare report their debts because they thought that Alexander had worked out a plan to identify all those who had squandered their resources or who had not managed to get by on the generous pay they all received.
Alexander, on seeing that there were so few requests, spread word that he did not wish to know the identities of the debtors, but only the amount of the debt, and thus they all took heart and presented Eumenes with their applications and the documents proving the existence of the loans; in return they were issued with the monies necessary to clear the debt in full.
The Secretary General calculated the total cost of this operation at ten thousand talents.
Towards the end of the spring the King held manoeuvres at Opis, along the Tigris, where a new contingent of thirty thousand young Persian men had joined the army, all of them trained after the Macedonian fashion. There was a great parade in which the young Asian warriors, called the Successors, proved themselves to be exceptionally valiant and skilful. This irritated the Macedonian soldiers once again, who feared they might be put at the same level as those they had defeated and conquered on the battlefield. Their disappointment further increased when they heard that Alexander wanted to dismiss all the invalids and the wounded and send them all back, together with Craterus who was to substitute old Antipater as regent of Macedon.
‘They are furious,’ Craterus said to him. ‘They are asking you to receive a delegation.’
The manoeuvres had finished and the young Successors had returned to their tents. Alexander had his throne brought out and said to his friend, ‘Have them come to me.’ It was clear that he was extremely angry and in a terrible mood.
Craterus moved off towards the Macedonian camp, which was clearly separated from the Persian camp, and not long afterwards there appeared a small company of soldiers representing the various divisions of the army: cavalry, heavy infantry, assault troops, shieldsmen, horseback archers.
‘What do you want?’ asked Alexander, coldly.
‘Is it true that you are sending home the veterans, the disabled, the maimed?’ asked the commander of an infantry division, the oldest of the group.
‘Yes,’ replied the King.
‘And you feel this is the right thing to do?’
‘It is the necessary thing. There will be further expeditions and these men are no longer fit to fight.’
‘What sort of a man are you?’ shouted another. ‘Now that you have these little barbarians all dressed like young girls doing their exercises and their pirouettes, you don’t need your soldiers any more, the soldiers who conquered half the world for you with their sweat and their blood.’
‘It’s true!’ exclaimed a third man. ‘You plan on sending them back home now, but in what state? Are they the same men they were when you took them from their families ten years ago? No! Back then they were young and strong, in perfect shape! Now they are exhausted, emptied, wounded, maimed, invalids. What will their lives be like? And what about those who will never come back now? Those who died in the ambushes, who froze to death in the winters, who were smashed to pieces against the rocks, drowned in the muddy waters of the Indus, devoured by crocodiles, bitten by snakes, killed by thirst and hunger in the desert. Have you thought about them? Have you thought about the widows and the orphans? No, Sire, you obviously haven’t, otherwise you would never have conceived an action of this kind. We have always listened to you, we have always obeyed you, but now you must listen to us! We, your soldiers, have met together in an assembly and we have decided. Either all of us, or none of us!’
‘What are you trying to say?’ asked Alexander, his face darkening.
‘What I mean is,’ replied the infantry division commander, ‘if you send the invalid veterans back then you will have to send us all back. Yes, we are going home. You can keep your barbarians with their fine gold-plated breastplates and we will see if they’re capable of doing as much for you as we have done, if they can sweat blood for you in the same way we have. Farewell, Sire.’
The small group of men bowed their heads slightly, then turned their backs and slow-marched back to the camp.
Alexander got to his feet, his face pale with rage and humiliation and he turned to the horsemen of his personal guard, ‘Is this the way you see things as well?’
The commander was silent.
‘Do you feel the same way?’ he shouted once more.
We agree with our companions, Sire,’ came the reply.
‘Then you may go. You are relieved of your duties – I no longer have any need of you.’
The commander nodded to indicate that he had understood, then he gathered his men and took them to the camp at a gallop.
Shortly afterwards their place was taken by a group of Persian Successors who from that moment onwards were on full display outside the royal tent, resplendent in their new armour and their embroidered gowns, their purple and gold standards.
For two days Alexander refused to see his soldiers, neither did he communicate to them what he intended to do, but in the camp his gesture had thrown everyone into a state of considerable worry. They felt now like a flock of sheep without a shepherd, like children without a father, alone in the heart of a limitless land they had conquered, but which now threatened and derided them. And stronger than all these feelings was one other: the pain that came from having been excluded from the presence of
their king, the thought that he was now making other plans, dreaming other dreams, conceiving of extraordinary adventures without them, the pain of not seeing him any more, of no longer having any contact with him, no relationship whatsoever.
Two days went by and the King did not show his face. On the third day some soldiers said, ‘We’ve made a mistake. It was the wrong thing to do. After all, he has always loved us, he has gone through our hardships with us, he ate as we ate, he was wounded more than any of us, he has heaped gifts and favours on us. Let us go to his tent and beg his pardon.’
Others started laughing, ‘Yes! That’s it! Off you go and have your backsides kicked for your trouble!’
‘Perhaps,’ replied the man who had spoken first, ‘but I will go anyway; you do whatever you want.’ He took off all his weapons and wearing only his chiton, and, barefoot, he walked out of the camp. Others followed his example, increasing in numbers until more than half the army were there before the royal pavilion under the astonished gaze of the Persian guards.
Just at that moment Craterus passed by and saw them standing there. Ptolemy, who had returned from a mission along the Tigris, asked, ‘What’s happening here?’
They entered the tent and Craterus said, ‘The men are outside, Alexandre.’
They heard a voice cry out, ‘Forgive us, Sire!’
‘I hear them,’ replied Alexander, apparently impassible.
‘Alexander! Listen to us!’ cried another voice.
Ptolemy could not manage to hide his emotions. ‘Why don’t you go to them? They are your soldiers.’
‘Not any longer. I was not the one who rejected them – they rejected me. They failed me.’
Ptolemy added nothing else – he knew his friend too well to insist at that moment.
Another day and night and then another day went by and the soldiers’ laments grew louder, their voices ever more insistent.
‘That’s enough now!’ shouted Ptolemy. ‘Enough! Those men have neither slept nor eaten for two days and two nights. If you are a man, go to them now! Is it truly so difficult for you to understand them? You are a king, you know everything of the workings of governments and politics, but they know only one thing: they have followed you to the ends of the earth, they have given blood for you and now you send them away and surround yourself with the very people you had asked them to fight against up until yesterday. Can you really not understand how they feel? Do you really think the money you have given them is any just compensation?’
Something in Alexander seemed to stir and he looked Ptolemy in the face, as though hearing these words for the very first time. Then he stood up and walked out, while the light of day was gradually fading away.
The entire army was out there – thousands of unarmed soldiers, sitting on the dusty ground, many of them in tears.
‘I have heard you, men!’ he shouted. ‘Do you think I am deaf? I have not slept for two nights because of you.’
‘Neither have we slept for two nights, Sire!’ replied an anonymous voice in the midst of the group.
‘Because you are ingrates, because you failed to understand me, because . . .’ Alexander started shouting.
A veteran soldier, with one hand missing and with a grey beard and long ruffled hair moved forward and looked Alexander square in the eyes, ‘Because we love you, son,’ he said.
Alexander bit his lip, realizing that at any moment he might start crying like a baby, he himself, King of Macedon, King of Kings, Pharaoh of Egypt, Sovereign of Babylon, was about to cry like a stupid little boy before his soldiers. And he did. Burning tears, shameless, without even covering his face. When he had finally calmed down, he replied, ‘I love you too, you bastards!’
63
ALEXANDER, SITTING ON his throne on the podium, looked at the soldiers who had been summoned before him by the trumpets. Then he nodded to Eumenes, the signal for the Secretary General to start reading:
Alexander, King of Macedon and pan-Hellenic Heghemón, decrees:
The veterans who prove to be unfit for action after a medical examination will return home with General Craterus.
They will each receive a personal gift from the King, so that they will remember him for the rest of the days the gods grant them to live. They will also receive a gold crown each, which they will be entitled to wear at every and any public manifestation, when they are present at athletics or dramatic competitions. On such occasions they will be granted seats in the tribune of honour.
He further decrees that they will receive their wages for the rest of their lives, and, until they are twenty years of age, any orphans will receive the wages of their fathers who died in glory for the homeland.
The King’s Macedonian guard is reinstated to its role. All those who are ill or are slightly wounded will be treated and will rejoin the ranks. The King has asked Philip, his personal physician, to take care of them.
To all of you he expresses his deepest affection and gratitude. For ever!
Following those words there came a great explosive roar, the clangour of swords being beaten against shields, singing and shouting and cries of joy.
Four days later, the convoy led by Craterus set off on its march towards the Euphrates and the sea. Alexander stood there watching until the last man disappeared over the horizon. ‘They have taken part of me with them.’
‘You are right,’ replied Eumenes, ‘but the decree you have issued is excellent. They will all be there at the theatre, even those who have never set foot in one before, so as not to miss any chance of sitting in the special seats reserved for them, wearing in public the golden crown you have given them.’
‘How do you think Antipater will take it?’
‘Being substituted by Craterus? I don’t know. He has always been loyal, he has served you faithfully. He may feel bitter, this is true, but it will pass. After all, he is the last one left of your father’s old guard. What do you plan on doing now?’
‘Do you remember the Ouxians?’
‘Who could ever forget those savages?’
‘To the north, there is an even more savage tribe that has supported attempts at restoring the Persian empire – the Cossaeans. I must sort out this business and then we will go to Ecbatana, the final capital, to reaffirm our authority, to check up on the royal treasure and to put the corrupt governors on trial. Then we will march on Babylon, the future capital of the empire.’
‘How long do you think it will take?’
‘Two, perhaps three months.’
*
Alexander was wrong – it took all spring to subdue the Cossaeans and he remained at Ecbatana for much of the summer. Three high-ranking Macedonian officers – Heracles, Meleager and Aristonicus, were found guilty of corruption, theft and sacrilege with regard to the Persian sanctuaries and were immediately executed. In this way the King showed that he made no discrimination between Macedonians and Persians. Indeed, more than a few Persians who had proved to be corrupt administrators were condemned. In all these cases Eumolpus of Soloi’s information proved to be correct.
Once these operations were complete, the King decided to organize a celebration with games and performances because some three thousand athletes, actors and impresarios had arrived from Greece. He then settled in the royal palace with Roxane. Stateira, in the meantime, with her sister who had married Alexander, had taken up residence in the palace at Susa. Thus they circumvented Roxane’s jealousy, which became ever greater because she began to realize just how much power she wielded over her spouse – in his heart Alexander could never deny her anything. One evening, after having made love, while she lay alongside him as usual, leaning her face on his chest, she said, ‘Now, I am truly happy, Alexandre.’
The King embraced her tightly. ‘For me too this is a moment of great happiness. My fleet has returned safe and sound, I have completed all my military operations, I have made peace with my soldiers, I have united two races through marriage and soon I will have a son.’
‘Wait a mom
ent,’ Roxane laughed. ‘It might just be a daughter.’
‘Oh no,’ replied Alexander. ‘I am sure it will be a boy – Alexander IV! You will be mother of my heir to the throne, Roxane, and to celebrate this moment I will proclaim great feasts, races and dramatic performances in the Greek manner. These are things that you have never experienced, but I am sure that you will immediately learn to appreciate them. Imagine hundreds of four-horse chariots racing round a track at breakneck speed, imagine stories represented on artificial stages with real men who pretend to be the characters in the stories, imagine athletes competing in races, wrestling, jumping, javelin throwing. And then dancing, music, singing . . .’
The girl looked at him, rapt with admiration. Since leaving her mountain home, peopled only by shepherds, she had seen all sorts of marvels and her life with Alexander, who in her eyes appeared omnipotent, was like an endless dream.
Thus the celebrations and the banquets began, but during these Hephaestion fell ill. As soon as Eumenes gave him the bad news, the King immediately ran to his bedside.
‘What is wrong with him?’ he asked straight away.
‘High fever and nausea,’ replied Eumenes.
‘Call Philip.’
‘Have you forgotten that we left him in Susa? I have sent for Glaucus – he is an excellent physician.’
Although feverish, Hephaestion was still able to joke: ‘I don’t want doctors – send me an amphora of Cypriot wine and I’ll cure myself
‘Don’t be such a clown,’ replied Alexander. ‘You’ll do exactly what the doctor tells you to do.’
Glaucus arrived quickly, uncovered the patient’s chest and listened to it. ‘Why is it that doctors’ ears are always freezing?’ exclaimed Hephaestion.
‘If you want a doctor with warm ears all you have to do is ask,’ joked Eumenes. ‘Your friend is master of the world and he can find anything you want.’