Alexander (Vol. 3) (Alexander Trilogy) (44 page)

*

When he woke up and found her lying there alongside him, more beautiful now and with the light of her dreams in her eyes, he caressed her with an infinite gentleness and said, ‘We must leave now, my love, and we will not stop until I see the ends of the earth and the cities of the Ganges, the herons in the golden lakes and the shimmering peacocks of Palimbothra.’

Alexander turned his attention again to the preparations and reorganized the army, enlisting thousands of Asians from the provinces of Bactriana and Sogdiana, whose loyalty was now doubly ensured and bound by virtue of the marriage with the Princess, Oxyartes’ daughter. Ten thousand Persians also arrived, trained and armed in the Macedonian manner, enlisted by his governors in the central provinces of the empire. So Alexander decided that for reasons of equality the custom of ‘prostration’ ought to be extended to all his subjects, but the Macedonians rebelled and Callisthenes faced him directly, reminding him just how absurd it was to expect this of his people. ‘What will you do when you return home?’ he asked. ‘Will you ask the Greeks, the freest among men, to pay homage to you in the same way we pay homage to the gods? They are different, not even Hercules was granted divine honours while he lived, and not even after his death for that matter, until the Oracle at Delphi requested it specifically. Do you want to be identified with these barbarian kings? Just think about what happened to them – Cambises was defeated by the Ethiopians, Darius by the Scythians, Xerxes by the Greeks and Artaxerxes by Xenophon’s “ten thousand”, which you know so well. They were all defeated by free men. It is certainly true that we are in foreign lands and to some extent we must think like these foreigners, but I beg you not to forget Greece! Remember the teachings of Aristotle. How can the Macedonians treat their King as though he were a god, and how can the Greeks treat the commander of their League as though he were a god? A man receives a handshake, a kiss; people build temples, offer sacrifices, sing hymns for gods. There is a difference between honouring a man and worshipping a god. You are worthy of the greatest honour among all men, because you have been the most valiant, the most courageous, the greatest, but please be satisfied with this, I beg you. Please accept the homage of free men and do not ask them to prostrate themselves before you like slaves!’

Alexander, who at that moment was sitting in audience, lowered his head and those near him heard him murmur, ‘You don’t understand me . . . you simply don’t understand.’

One person who heard him was one of the squires, Hermolaus, the young man who thought so much of Callisthenes and held the King in such contempt. He had become chief of the squires now because Cebalinus, who had saved Alexander’s life, had succumbed to the hard-420 ships of military life and the bitter climate, falling ill with a raging fever during the campaign against the Scythians and dying some days later. Hermolaus spent as much time as possible listening to Callisthenes’ advice and teachings and frequently neglected the work he was supposed to do.

The King in any case decreed that all those who did not feel they wanted to pay homage to him through the ‘prostration’ were not obliged to do so and he left the matter there, but not even this satisfied his critics. Many did not even tolerate the idea that he should accept ‘prostration’ from the Asians, for whom it was a perfectly natural, customary act, and they continued to label him as a presumptuous tyrant behind his back, blinded by power and by too much good luck.

Unfortunately the discontent did not stop at moanings and grumblings. Once again a plot developed, a conspiracy to kill the King, and this time it was the younger soldiers, those who were most closely involved in looking after his person – the squires whose job it was to watch over Alexander while he slept.

This terrible, painful event originated after the army returned to Bactra, on an occasion of relaxation and merriment. During a wild boar hunt, Hermolaus, as leader of the squires, was riding close by the King when suddenly, followed by Peritas and other dogs, a boar burst out of the undergrowth and charged at him. Alexander moved to one side and took aim with his javelin, but Hermolaus was so caught up in the excitement of the chase and was so anxious to have some hunting success for himself, that he struck first and killed the boar, completely ignoring the King’s right to precedence in the situation.

It was a grave offence and a sign of arrogance and total contempt for court tradition and protocol. In such cases only the King himself was able to inflict corporal punishment on a squire or to decide who else could inflict it and Alexander made use of his prerogative: he had the boy tied up and beaten with canes.

This was severe punishment indeed, but considered normal for the Macedonian court. In their youth and childhood the companions had all been punished in that way – Leonnatus still bore the marks on his back, but even Hephaestion and Lysimachus had paid more than once for their own lack of discipline, on King Philip’s orders or at Leonidas’s or their weapon instructor’s hand. The people who had written those rules perceived of them as a sort of exercise in bearing pain, a way of getting the youngsters used to obedience and of strengthening body and soul in the face of difficulties. In Sparta boys were whipped with almost no punitive purpose, but simply as a form of education in valour and sacrifice, an exercise in the ability to withstand pain.

Hermolaus, however, considered himself a victim of a gratuitous, cruel and unjust humiliation and from that day onward he nurtured deep rancour against the King and even conceived of a plan to kill him. Although he would act on his own, he needed someone to help arrange his escape route. Fired by Callisthenes’ ideas on freedom, he failed to realize that he himself was not an Athenian citizen engaged in defending his city’s democracy against a tyrant, but was rather a Macedonian squire in his King’s service in a land far from home and in the midst of all sorts of danger. He also failed to realize that Callisthenes himself was dependent on Alexander, that the historian received from the King the food, the clothes and the blankets that sustained him and kept him warm through the cold nights up on the plateau.

With all the thoughtlessness that is typical of young men, Hermolaus spoke to a friend of his by the name of Epimenides, who promptly spoke about it with a friend – Charikles – whom he trusted blindly and who in his turn spoke with Epimenides’ brother – Eurylochus – and this last, much frightened, sought to dissuade them in every way possible.

‘Are you all mad?’ he asked one day when they were gathered in a tent. ‘You cannot do this.’

‘Of course we can,’ replied Hermolaus, ‘and we will be doing the world a favour – freeing it of a hateful tyrant.’

Eurylochus shook his head, ‘It was your fault – you know perfectly well that the first strike is the King’s prerogative!’

He had almost fallen from his horse, how could he have struck?’

‘Alexander never falls from his horse, stupid, and in any case, how do you think you’re going to do it? It’s not easy to kill a King, you know.’

‘Oh, but it is. Just think about how King Philip died, and he was much better than this one here, and no one has ever discovered who the assassin was.’

‘But out here we’re on our own, surrounded by barbarians and by the desert. They’ll come looking for us straight away. And then, if you really want to know, I have to tell you that there are already rumours doing the rounds about Callisthenes, rumours that would make you both prime suspects. Someone heard you asking him what one would have to do to become the most famous man in the world and he apparently replied, “Kill the most powerful man in the world.” You are fortunate that these words have not yet reached the King’s ears, but you cannot tempt fate too long without retribution.’ He turned to Epimenides now and said, ‘As for you, that’s quite enough. I am your big brother and I order you to forget these wretches. And you two, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll forget it all. Behave respectably and perhaps all these rumours will fade away into nothing.’

Hermolaus shrugged his shoulders. ‘I do whatever I wish, and if you don’t intend to help me then that doesn’t matter, I have other friends. It will be as easy as this,’ and he spat a gob of saliva on the ground before turning his back and walking away.

The young conspirators waited for Alexander and his men to set out on an operation against a group of rebels; this way his death would appear to be the work of an enemy that had somehow infiltrated the camp. Then they debated the day and hour.

*

When the King left the palace at Bactra, Roxane embraced him hard and said, ‘Don’t go!’

‘You are making great progress with your Greek,’ replied Alexander. ‘When you have learned it, I will teach you the Macedonian dialect as well.’

‘Don’t go!’ repeated Roxane, her voice full of anguish.

Alexander gave her a kiss, ‘But why shouldn’t I go?’

The girl looked into his eyes and through her tears she said, ‘Two days. I see . . . darkness.’

The King shook his head as though to chase away some irritating thought, then his attendants laced up his armour and accompanied him into the courtyard where his horsemen awaited, ready for the off.

Two days went by and the King, worried by Roxane’s omen, spoke with Aristander. ‘What do you think it might mean?’

‘The women of this country practise divination and magic, they are able to feel menace when it is abroad, and what is more, Roxane loves you.’

‘What should I do?’

‘Do not sleep tonight. Read, drink, but keep your wits about you. You must remain awake.’

‘I will do as you say,’ replied Alexander and he waited for darkness to fall.

P
TOLEMY SAW THAT A
lamp was still burning in Alexander’s tent and went in, saluted as he did so by the two squires who were on duty that night.

‘Why are you still awake?’ he asked. ‘It’s already the second watch.’

‘I am not sleepy. I was reading.’

Ptolemy took a look,
‘India
by Ctesias. You really can’t wait, can you?’

‘No. And when we have taken India, then we will be able to say that all Asia is in our hands. We will return then and we will begin to change the world, Ptolemy.’

‘Do you really believe that the world can be changed? Do you think we can ever succeed in such an undertaking?’

Alexander lifted his eyes from the papyrus scroll that he was holding open before him, ‘Yes, I do. Have you forgotten that evening in the sanctuary of Dionysius at Mieza?’

‘I do remember. We were youngsters, full of enthusiasm, of hopes, of dreams . . .’

‘Those youngsters have now conquered the world’s largest empire – two thirds of the earth – and they have founded many cities of Greek culture and with Greek constitutions in the heart of Asia. Do you think this has come about by chance? Do you think there is no meaning in all this? No purpose?’

‘I would like to think there is. In any case, you can always count on my friendship, on my loyalty. I will never abandon you – you may be certain of this. As for all the rest, there are certain moments when I myself don’t know what to think . . .’

At that moment Hermolaus entered. Peritas growled and Ptolemy turned towards him. ‘Are you on watch tonight?’

‘Yes,
Heghemon,’
replied the boy.

‘So why were you outside?’

‘The King was not sleeping and I did not want to disturb him.’

‘You do not disturb me,’ said Alexander. ‘You may remain, if you wish.’

The young man sat in a corner of the tent. Ptolemy looked at him, and then at Alexander – he sensed something strange going on, an impalpable atmosphere of tension and repressed energy.

‘He’s the boy I had punished the other day, after the hunt.’

‘Do you resent it, boy?’ Ptolemy asked the squire, seeing the dark expression on his face. ‘You mustn’t, you know. If only you knew how many times I took a beating when I was your age. King Philip himself kicked me up the backside, and he even had me whipped once when I lamed one of his horses, but I never let it get to me because he was a great man and he did it for my own good.’

‘Times have changed,’ said Alexander. ‘These lads aren’t like we were. They’re . . . different. Or perhaps it’s us, perhaps we’re getting on. I’m thirty years old . . . would you credit it?’

‘If it comes to that, I passed that mark some years ago. Good. I’ll continue with my inspection rounds. Can I take the dog with me? He’s good company,’ at which Peritas wagged his tail.

‘Take him. He’s putting on weight and a bit of exercise will do him good.’

‘I’m off then. If you need me just call.’

Alexander nodded and returned to his reading, every so often taking a sip from the cup on the table.

Hermolaus was sitting there before him in silence, his jaws clenched tight, his eyes lowered. Now and then the King lifted his head from the scroll and looked at him with a puzzled expression on his face. Eventually he said to him, ‘You hate me, don’t you? You hate me because I had you beaten.’

‘That’s not true, Sire. I. . .’ but it was clear that he was lying and this convinced the King that the boy was a bad one because he had neither the courage to manifest his hatred nor to relinquish it.

‘Forget it, it matters not.’