by H A CULLEY
It was a mistake. The assembly might have been swayed by flattery and promises but they didn’t react well to threats. The murder of Kadmos had shocked many of those present, none of whom were soldiers, and it was clear that the two had lost whatever sympathy the assembly might have had for them.
Theon and Enyo had to draw their weapons to dissuade the crowd from trying to seize them but, as they fled from the Merchants’ Hall, they knew that they had bungled their attempt to win over the Greeks’ leaders. What worried them even more was the fact that the Spartans had probably sent other emissaries to the other Greek towns. If so, Parmenion’s mission had just got immeasurably more difficult.
-X-
Time had done nothing to lessen the hatred that Pausanias felt for Philip for his failure to act over his complaint against Attalus. Nevertheless he couldn’t see what he could do about it and, festering his depression, he started to frequent a tavern where he could get drunk on cheap wine and take his resentment out on the whores he paid to spend an hour with. Eventually they got fed up with his brutality and none of them would spend time with him. This drove him to drink even more. His downward path to destruction would have continued if he hadn’t been joined one night by two men he didn’t recognise.
That wasn’t surprising as they were agents of Olympias’ who made it their business to keep a low profile. One of the men took his flagon of unwatered wine out of his hand and poured the contents away into the soiled rushes that covered the floor. When Pausanias objected the other man stuck a dagger into the side that was hidden from the sight of anyone who might be looking their way.
‘Shut up and listen!’ One of the men whispered hoarsely in his ear. ‘Someone important wants a word with you but we can’t let her see you in this state. You’re coming with us and we’re going to sober you up and make you presentable.’
Pausanias wasn’t the bravest of men and the dagger, which had penetrated his side enough to have drawn blood, had frightened him. He therefore staggered to his feet and allowed the two men to help him out of the tavern and into a nearby house.
Three hours and several purges of his guts with salt water later Pausanias was sober, if feeling like shit. They scrubbed him clean, being none too gentle about it, and pulled a clean exomis over his head. They then led him down a corridor and into a room in which sat a young man with a corner of his himation pulled over his head to hide his face. Pausanias thought he recognised the voice though; he was almost certain that it belonged to Alexander’s friend, Leonnatus. He therefore came to the incorrect conclusion that he was here at the prince’s behest.
‘Pausanias, I’m told that you harbour a deep hatred for King Philip and that you might even wish to see him dead. Is this true?’
The poor man nearly fell to the ground in a panic. He thought that he was about to be charged with treason.
‘Oh, don’t worry. We aren’t trying to trick a confession out of you. We share your ambition but we need to know if you are really one of us or not.’
‘And if I’m not?’
Pausanias already knew the answer to that but he needed to hear the answer to salve his conscience. It was important to him to feel that he was coerced into the conspiracy.
‘What do you think? In the name of Hades, even you aren’t that much of a fool.’
‘No, I’m not. And so you already know the answer to your question Leonnatus, so why don’t you tell me what this is all about?’
Now he knew that his life wasn’t threatened if he played along and that these people might be able to help him exact the revenge he desired, he became much more confident of himself.
‘We want you to assassinate Philip of Macedon at the games following the incestuous wedding of Alexandros and his niece, Cleopatra of Macedon. Don’t worry we’ll be there to help you get away in the confusion and have horses nearby so you can make good your escape.’
Pausanias hadn’t thought of the forthcoming wedding in quite those terms but he realised that, as this Cleopatra was the daughter of Philip and Olympias, Alexandros’ sister, she was indeed his niece. It seemed to him one more nail in Philip’s coffin as he had arranged the marriage.
He nodded his agreement and Leonnatus outlined what he had to do.
-X-
In the city of Pedasus word of the events in the Merchants’ Hall soon spread amongst the ordinary Greeks, but their attitude was at odds with the views of their leaders. The Spartans were detested almost as much as the Persians and Enyo was regarded as something of a hero, even if some were scandalised at the thought of a female committing violence. The young men in particular became vocal in their support for Enyo, Theon and the idea of liberty from Persian tyranny. They took to the streets with clubs, hammers and any other utensils that could be used as a weapon and invaded the area of the city where the Persian minority lived.
When the governor heard that the Greeks had risen in revolt he sent for the captain commanding the small garrison. The latter had four hundred soldiers in total whereas there were thousands of Greeks rampaging through the city now. Like his counterpart in Dardanellia, he decided to take refuge in the acropolis with the governor, his family, his soldiers and all those leading Persian citizens who had a head start on the mob. The less wealthy Persians lived further away and were either killed or managed to flee the city.
When Enyo and Theon emerged the next morning they found a scene of devastation. It was clear that some Greeks had used the uprising as an excuse to even old scores and it hadn’t just been Persians who had died. The couple were hailed as heroes and were hoisted onto the shoulders of the mob and carried to the Merchant’s Hall.
Here they found not only those who had been present the previous evening, but also the leaders of the apprentices, labourers, fishermen, sailors, and other workers. After an hour of furious debate Theon got to his feet and waved his arms to ask for silence.
‘Fellow Greeks. What is done is done and it cannot be undone. The Persians will not forget or forgive and so we need to move on. Parmenion will arrive here in about a week or so. In the meantime we have a hostile armed force inside the acropolis who are too frightened to come out. Given time they will recover their courage and descend on you to exact revenge. You can defeat them but some of you will die. It would be better to negotiate their surrender and exit from the city whilst the current atmosphere of fear prevails.’
Many were nodding their agreement to this and so Theon continued.
‘Who will form the delegation? We need to discuss that but the city is a mess. There are a few fires still burning. They need to be put out. The debris needs to be cleared up and the bodies buried before disease takes a hold. Then you need to elect a democratic government to run the city from now onwards.’
He sat down and various other speakers supported what Theon had said and made suggestions as to the future government of the city. Eventually it was agreed that the man who had presided at last night’s meeting, albeit ineffectually, should head the interim government until democratic elections could be arranged. He would go and negotiate with the Persians in the acropolis, accompanied by one of the other merchants, the leader of the port workers, Enyo and Theon.
In the end it was far easier than anyone thought. The Persians immediately agreed to leave the city provided that they could march out with their possessions and their weapons. A day later they left and the Greeks started to get themselves organised.
When Enyo and Theon rode out to meet Parmenion they had great delight in telling him that the city had already ejected the Persians. The strategos congratulated them but, as he did so, a scout came galloping up to report that large army was advancing towards him from the direction of Sardis.
Chapter Eleven – Assassination
October 336 BC
Philip was in an excellent mood. He had got drunk, as was his wont, at the wedding feast of Alexandros and Cleopatra, his eldest daughter by Olympias, and had even managed to exchange a few words with his ex-wife without flying into a ra
ge. She, for her part, helped him to behave politely towards her by appearing meek and submissive. If Philip had been in a less ebullient mood he might have wondered what she was up to.
The next day he was due to open the Games held not only to celebrate the marriage but to impress the representatives of all the Greek states who had been invited. The day, which started overcast and unseasonably chilly, grew warmer as the clouds cleared and the bright sun appeared just as the festivities began. They commenced with a lavish procession in which statues of the gods encased in gold leaf were carried around the stadium. The opening of the games was to be celebrated in traditional fashion by appeasing the gods, except that Philip wanted to impress his guests by the lavishness of the sacrifices. No less than six bulls were led into the area and up to the altar, three pure white and three black. They were followed by a dozen goats. The priests were going to eat well today and the scraps thrown to the spectators would be popular with those who caught them. For most Greeks, who lived on a diet of fruit, vegetables and cereals, meat was a real luxury.
If Philip thought that such extravagance would astound the representatives of the other Greek states, he was correct, but not for the reasons he thought. They derided his ostentation and made snide comments about him behind their hands.
When all was ready Philip prepared to make a grand entrance by appearing from a tunnel that led under the seating directly into the arena near where the altar had been set up. He had intended to ride but, when he got there he realised that the tunnel was too low for him to do so and appear with any dignity at the far end, so he dismounted. Seeing he was about to walk along the tunnel, Alexander dismounted and prepared to walk with him.
‘What are you doing? This is my moment of glory, not yours. Go and sit with your harpy of a mother you insolent whelp.’
Alexander stood there for a moment, stunned at his father’s spiteful words. Then, as a cold rage swept over him, he mounted and galloped at speed around the outside of the area and entered it at the side opposite to the tunnel at the gate where the animals had entered. Without looking at the exit to the tunnel he ran up the stone stairs to where his mother sat with Alexandros, his new wife Cleopatra, and the rest of the royal family, including Cleopatra Eurydice. Her two children were still babies and so didn’t attend but her presence reminded him of their existence and he coldly turned his back on her to go and sit beside his mother.
At that moment Philip emerged from the tunnel to the cheers of the crowd. Beside the tunnel stood his personal guard for the day, which included Phaidros and Pausanias, who stood to attention at either side of the tunnel entrance.
As Philip walked forward towards the altar, turning left and right and waving to acknowledge the applause of the crowd, Pausanias suddenly levelled his spear and thrust it hard into the centre of Philip’s back. The king was wearing an embroidered red chiton and a white wool himation but they offered little resistance to the spear point and it entered his body. The thrust was savage with all of Pausanias’ pent up resentment and humiliation behind it and it smashed though bone to lodge in Philip’s heart. The one mercy was that he must have died before he realised what was happening.
Pausanias dropped the spear and bolted back down the tunnel. Phaidros was the first to react, not difficult as he knew what was about to happen, and he raced after the assassin. As Pausanias raced out of the other end of the tunnel Leonnatus was waiting for him. He had accompanied the king and now stood there holding both his own and the king’s horses.
Pausanias cried in relief, thinking that the spare horse was his means of escape but, as he went to mount, Phaidros’ spear hit him in the back. However, it was a bad throw and it was deflected by the linothrax the assassin was wearing. Leonnatus led go of the horses’ reins and, drawing his sword, he thrust it through the man’s neck just as the officer commanding the bodyguard came running out of the tunnel yelling for him to stop.
‘You bloody fool!’ he spat into Leonnatus’ face. ‘We needed him for questioning, now we won’t know who paid him to kill the king.’
He glared at Leonnatus for a long moment then his brow clouded in suspicion.
‘Why did you kill him anyway? You couldn’t have seen from here that he’d murdered the king.’
Leonnatus panicked for a moment then he saw Phaidros glaring at him. He pointed at his friend before replying.
‘He yelled stop assassin as he chased him along the tunnel. I drew my sword and, when he stumbled, I struck at him instinctively. He was trying to grab the king’s horse to escape.’
The officer grunted but nodded, indicating that he accepted Leonnatus’ statement.
‘Take this piece of offal and throw it in the kennels for the dogs to eat.’
With that he returned down the tunnel.
Meanwhile Alexander had got to his feet when he saw his father fall and he started to run down the steps and across the arena to where he lay. A crowd had started to gather around Philip’s body and he had difficulty in forcing his way through them. Grabbing a sword from one of the guards standing at the back of the crowd uncertain what to do, Alexander used to flat of the blade to beat people back so he could get through the press.
He knelt down in the pool of blood beside his father and started to sob as he cradled the lifeless head in his lap. The crowd retreated as both Philip’s Companions and Alexander’s personal guard pushed them back with the hafts of their spears.
Someone came and placed his hands on Alexander’s shoulders then moved them to his armpits and gently lifted him to his feet. He looked up to see who is was and sobbed again when he saw it was Hephaestion. The two embraced briefly before his friend pulled away and lifted Alexander’s hand in the air.
‘King Philip the Second is dead, long life to King Alexander the Third!’ he yelled. The cry echoed around the stadium as the people and the soldiers present took it up.
‘King Alexander,’ they yelled. Olympias hadn’t shown any emotion when Philip was slain, except to give the whimpering Queen Cleopatra a contemptuous look, but now she smiled in satisfaction.
The election of the new king was formally a matter for the assembly of nobles but they weren’t likely to gainsay the choice of the people and the army.
-X-
Alexander watched as the flames roared and the black smoke from Philip’s funeral pyre curled lazily up into the clear blue sky. He turned to the priests and made the obligatory sacrifices, but his mind was elsewhere. Although the assembly of nobles had confirmed him as King of Macedon, Philip had also been Hegemon of All Greece and Archon of Thessaly. He needed to make sure that these titles were transferred to him. There was also the problem of internal strife that had to be nipped in the bud.
Although he was innocent of patricide, there were more than a few who believed that he had orchestrated his father’s murder, or that he was at least aware of the plot, even if he didn’t instigate it. The fact that one of those who had killed the assassin before he could be questioned had been one of his closest companions didn’t help. He had interrogated Leonnatus himself but he firmly denied any involvement in the plot and stuck to the story that he had given at the time. Alexander had known his friend since he was thirteen and he knew that he was hiding something. Then he recalled seeing him and Phaidros coming out of his mother’s chambers and he put two and two together.
He had ordered Antipater to conduct an immediate official investigation into the assassination but he knew now who was behind it: his mother. He stormed off to confront her but she made no attempt to deny it.
‘You do know that if I hadn’t acted when I did, Attalus was planning to kill both you and Philip so that he could claim the regency himself on behalf of that whore’s son, Caranus. Don’t worry, I’ve already taken steps to ensure that Caranus, Europa and their mother won’t pose a problem, but you need to eliminate Attalus as soon as possible. He’s in Anatolia with a large army and there is always the danger that he’ll either suborn Parmenion or kill him and take over the army.�
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‘What have you done to them?’ Alexander asked, his mind in whirl.
He had known that she had arranged for Philip’s assassination, even if he hadn’t wanted to admit it to himself. Deep down he was relieved. He was desperate to succeed and, though his grief for Philip’s death was genuine, he wasn’t sorry to be master of his own destiny now.
‘Infancy is such a perilous time for babies and infants, don’t you think? They were both found dead in their cribs this morning, such a tragedy. It turned their mother’s mind apparently. She killed herself by cutting her throat with a dagger. Now you have only Attalus and Amyntas to deal with.’
‘Amyntas?’
‘Yes, your cousin, or have you forgotten that he is the son of your uncle, King Perdiccas, and was king himself for a short while as a boy until your father deposed him? He’s now twenty nine and many will think he has a much better claim to the throne than you have.’
Alexander sat down heavily. His mind had been occupied by potential problems outside the kingdom. In a way he was relieved that the threat posed by Caranus had been resolved but the manner of his death was unfortunate, and he was horrified by the death of Europa and Cleopatra Eurydice; their murders had been unnecessary. Then he remembered how much his mother hated his father’s new wife. It shouldn’t have surprised him.
He realised that he’d forgotten about Amyntas and Attalus. When he recalled how the latter had shamed him at the wedding of Philip and Cleopatra Eurydice his face flushed with anger.
He sighed and turned back to Olympias.
‘Mother, killing Caranus now was a mistake. It smacks of a purge by me of all my relatives and that will lose me crucial support. Amyntas is to be held securely for the time being. As to Attalus, there is nothing I would like more than to sign his execution order.’
‘If you’re sure, Alexander?’
