Alexander (Vol. 2) (49 page)

‘I never really believed it actually existed,’ said Leonnatus. ‘I thought it was just one of the tales old Leonidas used to tell us.’

A girl wearing a black wig, her eyes made up with bistre, her body wrapped in a linen gown so tight she almost seemed naked, served the young conquerors palm wine and sweetmeats.

‘Are you still sure you cannot bear the Egyptians?’ Alexander asked Ptolemy, who could not keep his eyes off the beautiful young maid.

‘In truth I’m not so sure any more,’ replied Ptolemy.

‘Look! Look out there, in the middle of the river! What are those monsters?’ Leonnatus suddenly shouted, pointing to a place where the water seemed to be boiling and there were glimpses of scaly backs which shone in the sun for a few instants before disappearing.

‘Crocodiles,’ explained the interpreter, a Greek from Naucratis by the name of Aristoxenus. ‘They’re everywhere, and don’t forget it – swimming in these waters can be extremely dangerous. So be careful because . . .’

‘And those things over there? Look at those!’ shouted Leonnatus once again. ‘They look like enormous pigs.’

‘
Hippopotamoi
– that’s what we Greeks call them,’ explained the interpreter.

‘River horses,’ said Alexander. ‘By Zeus, I do believe Bucephalas would feel offended if he knew that we call these beasts horses.’

‘It’s only a figure of speech,’ replied the interpreter. ‘They’re not at all dangerous because they feed on grasses and weeds, but they can overturn boats with their enormous mass and anyone who falls into the water is then potential prey for the crocodiles.’

‘A dangerous country,’ said Seleucus, who up until that moment had been admiring the spectacle in silence. ‘And what do you think will happen now?’ he asked Alexander.

‘I do not know, but I believe we might be welcomed in friendship, if we succeed in understanding this people. They give me the impression of being kind and wise, but most proud.’

‘That’s right,’ Eumenes confirmed. ‘Egypt has never tolerated any external domination and the Persians have never understood this fact – they have always installed a governor with mercenary troops at Pelusium and all this has achieved is to cause revolt after revolt, all of them subsequently suppressed with violence.’

‘And why should things be any different for us?’ asked Seleucus.

‘They could have been different for the Persians as well, if they had respected the Egyptians’ religion and if the Great King had let them invest him as Pharaoh of all Egypt. In a certain sense it’s all just a matter of form.’

‘A matter of . . . form?’ repeated Ptolemy.

‘Quite,’ said Eumenes. ‘Form. A people who live for the gods and for life after death, a people who spend enormous wealth just to import incense to burn in their temples certainly confers great value to matters of form.’

‘I think you’re right,’ said Alexander. ‘In any case, we shall discover whether you are soon enough. Tomorrow our fleet should arrive, after which we will go up the Nile to Memphis, the capital.’

Nearchus’s and Hephaestion’s ships dropped anchor at the mouth of the eastern branch of the delta two days later, and the King and his companions travelled up the Nile to Heliopolis and then Memphis while the army followed by land.

They paraded along the great river before the pyramids, which glinted like diamonds under the sun at its height, and then before the gigantic sphinx, crouched there for millennia to guard over the sleep of the great pharaohs.

‘Herodotus writes that thirty thousand men took thirty years to build it,’ explained Aristoxenus.

‘And do you think that is true?’ asked Alexander.

‘I think so, even though in this country they tell more stories than any other part of the world, simply because so many of them have been accumulated over the years.’

‘Is it true that in the eastern desert there are winged serpents?’ Alexander asked again.

‘I do not know,’ replied the interpreter. ‘I have never been there, but it is certainly one of the most inhospitable places on earth. But look, here we are now, approaching our moorings. Those men you can see there in the front line with shaved heads are the priests of the temple of Zeus Ammon. Treat them with respect – they might be able to spare you much trouble and much blood.’

Alexander nodded and prepared to disembark. The first thing he did on stepping on to dry land was to approach the priests reverently and ask to be taken to the temple to pay homage to the god.

The priests looked at one another and quietly exchanged a few words before replying with polite bows; then they set off in procession towards the grand sanctuary, singing a religious hymn, accompanied by the sound of flutes and harps. As they came to the colonnaded atrium, they spread out in a fanlike formation, as though inviting Alexander to enter. And Alexander did enter, on his own.

The sun’s rays penetrated through a hole in the ceiling and then passed through a dense cloud of incense rising from a golden incense-burner positioned at the very centre. The rest of the temple was barely visible in the darkness. Alexander looked around – the temple seemed to be completely deserted and in the midday silence the noises which came from outside seemed to be completely absorbed by the forest of columns supporting the cedar-wood ceiling.

Suddenly the great statue appeared to move – its ruby eyes shone as though animated by some internal light and a deep and vibrant voice resounded through the great columned chamber.

‘The last legitimate sovereign of this land was forced to flee into the desert twenty years ago and he has never returned. Are you perhaps his son, born far from the Nile, the son we have been waiting for for years?’

At that moment Alexander understood everything he had ever heard about Egypt and about the spirit of its people and he replied, his voice firm and solid, ‘I am.’

‘If you are him,’ continued the voice, ‘then prove it.’

‘How?’ asked the King.

‘Only the god Ammon may recognize you as his son, but he speaks only through the oracle of Siwa, which stands at the heart of the desert. That is where you must go.’

Siwa, Alexander thought. And he recalled a story his mother had recounted when he was a child – the story of two doves set free by Zeus at the beginning of all time. One had alighted on an oak tree at Dodona, the other on a palm tree at Siwa, and from these places prophecies had begun to be pronounced. She had also told him that she had first felt him move in her belly when she had gone to the oracle at Dodona and that his next birth, a divine birth, would come to pass when he visited the other oracle, at Siwa.

The voice faded and Alexander came out of the great dark chamber, reappearing into the sun in the midst of a joyous exultation of hymn-singing and music.

The bull Apis was led into his presence and the King paid homage to him, crowning his brow with garlands, then personally offering a sacrifice of an antelope to the god Ammon.

The priests, greatly impressed by his reverence, came to him and offered him the keys to the city. Alexander’s immediate reaction was to order restoration works on the temple, which here and there was somewhat run down.

T
HE JOURNEY TOWARDS
the remote oasis at Siwa began a few days later, when Alexander’s wounds appeared to have healed completely. One part of the army marched northwards, while another followed with the fleet. The point fixed for their meeting was in the lagoon not far from the westernmost branch of the Nile delta.

When Alexander arrived there he was very much taken with the wide bay and the island covered with palm trees, sheltering it from the northerly winds and by the wide strip of flat ground which ran behind the beach.

He decided to set up camp there and organized a celebration together with his companions and his army for the success of their expedition and the way they had been greeted peacefully in Egypt. Before the supper degenerated into an orgy, Alexander wanted his friends to listen to some musical performances by Greek and Egyptian artists together with a piece of dramatic bravura from Thessalus, his favourite actor, who gave a masterful interpretation of Oedipus’s soliloquy from
Oedipus Coloneus.

The applause had not yet died down when a visitor for the King was announced.

‘Who is it?’ asked Alexander.

‘A rather strange man,’ said Eumenes, looking somewhat bewildered, ‘but he claims he knows you very well.’

‘Oh yes?’ said the King, who was in a good mood. ‘Well then, bring him to me. But what is it that’s so strange about him?’

‘You’ll see for yourself shortly,’ replied Eumenes and he moved off to fetch the visitor.

As the visitor made his entrance a buzz ran through the entire theatre, accompanied by a few laughs, and everyone’s gaze turned towards him. He was a man of about forty, completely naked except for a lion’s skin, just as Hercules was said to have worn, with a club in his right hand.

Alexander barely managed to stifle his own laughter at this signal homage to the figure of his ancestor, and, making considerable effort to keep a straight face, asked, ‘Who are you, O stranger and guest, who so resembles the hero Hercules, my ancestor?’

‘I am Dinocrates,’ replied the man, ‘a Greek architect.’

‘Those are strange clothes for an architect,’ said Eumenes.

‘What matters,’ declared the man, ‘is not how one dresses, but the plans one is able to propose and eventually realize.’

‘And what plans do you have to propose to me?’ asked the King.

Dinocrates clapped his hands and two young men appeared and proceeded to unroll a large sheet of papyrus at Alexander’s feet.

‘By Zeus!’ exclaimed the King. ‘What on earth is it?’

Dinocrates was visibly satisfied at having captured the King’s attention and began to explain: ‘It is indeed an ambitious project, certainly worthy of your greatness and your glory. What I intend to do is to sculpt Mount Athos into the figure of a colossus which bears your features, and this is what you see represented in the drawing before you. In his open hand the giant will hold a city which you will found personally. Is it not extraordinary?’

‘Ah yes, it most certainly is extraordinary,’ said Eumenes, ‘but I wonder if it is feasible.’

Alexander observed the grandiose drawing which depicted him as tall as a mountain with an entire city in his hand and he said, ‘I am afraid it might be a trifle beyond my capabilities . . . and then, if I ever had any intention of commissioning such an enormous statue, I would contact an extremely good young sculptor I met when I studied at Mieza with Aristotle. His name is Chares and he was a pupil of Lysippus. I hear tale that one of his dreams is to build a giant of bronze some eighty cubits high. Do you know him?’

‘No.’

‘It matters not, but in any case I do have a project to suggest to you.’

‘So you don’t like this idea, Sire?’ asked the disappointed architect.

‘It’s not that I do not appreciate it. It simply seems to be a little . . . too much. My project, on the other hand, can be got under way tomorrow, if you feel that you want to take it on.’

‘I most certainly would be honoured, Sire. All you have to do is say the word.’

‘In that case follow me,’ and the King invited him out into the open and they walked towards the shore. It was a fine summer’s evening and a crescent moon was reflected in the still waters of the bay.

Alexander took off his cloak and spread it on the ground: ‘There . . . what I want is a plan for a city in the shape of a Macedonian cloak, like this, all of it arranged around the bay here before us.’

‘Is that it?’ asked Dinocrates.

‘That’s it,’ replied the King. ‘I want you to start tomorrow at first light. I must leave here on a journey and when I come back I want to see the houses already standing, the roads already paved, the jetties of the harbour already constructed.’

‘I will do what I can, Sire. But who will provide the funds?’

‘Eumenes, my secretary general, will deal with all that,’ said Alexander, and then he turned to walk back to his tent, leaving the bizarre architect alone in the midst of the deserted plain with his club and his lion skin. ‘And make sure you do a good job!’ he shouted.

‘One last thing, Sire!’ shouted Dinocrates in return, before the King rejoined his friends at the banquet. ‘What will be this city’s name?’

‘Alexandria. Its name will be Alexandria, and it will be the most beautiful city in the world.’

*

Work began very soon and Dinocrates, having taken off his lion skin and put on some decent clothes, proved to be up to the job, even though other architects who had been following the expedition for some time were very envious of the fact that the King had entrusted such a commission to a stranger. But Alexander often acted out of instinct, and he was rarely wrong.

There was only one episode which cast something of a shadow over the founding and building of Alexandria. Dinocrates had drawn up the plan of the city, then he had positioned his instruments to mark the layout on the ground. Chalk was used to trace the perimeter, the main roads and the secondary roads, the areas to be used for the main square, the market and the temples. At a certain stage, however, the chalk ran out and, unable to complete his work, he had the army commissariat provide him with sacks of flour to complete the layout. He then asked the King to come and see so that he might have at least an idea of what Alexandria would look like, but while the King was on his way together with his seer Aristander, a flock of birds landed and began pecking away at the flour, wiping out part of the markings.