Alexander (Vol. 2)

by Valerio Massimo Manfredi

  As the sun set the soldiers continued fighting, crazed with fatigue and fury in the reel of battle. The Greek mercenaries, already exhausted, had lost their commander now and the unstoppable force of Parmenion’s veterans began to have its effect – they retreated with dignity at first and then started fleeing with no sense of order, simply trying to reach the Mylasa Gate or the side gate on the northern sector, near the sea. But the defenders of the city were frightened by what they had seen and they closed all the gates so that many of their soldiers were left to perish beneath the walls, run through by the sarissae of Parmenion’s men.

  When Alexander had the order to cease combat sounded, Perdiccas was firmly installed on the breach in the eastern sector, a division of Agrianians had scaled the round bastion and had cleared it of defenders, yet others had scaled the wooden tower and aimed the ballistae and the catapults towards the centre of the city.

  Many torches and fires were lit, to protect them against counterattacks by the enemy during the night.

  Halicarnassus was now at the mercy of its conqueror.

  29

  ALEXANDER DID NOT SLEEP that night. The outcome of his battle with Memnon had been so uncertain right up to the last moment. More than once he had felt himself to be on the verge of defeat and humiliation; it was impossible to sleep with all that on his mind.

  His men had lit a bonfire on the battlement and he waited for the light of day completely unable to relax, almost as though all his senses were clenched tight in spasm. It was a moonless night, and the whole city was immersed in darkness and silence – the only fires burning were those on the huge breach guarded by his soldiers, on the brick bastion occupied by the Agrianians and at the base of the great wooden tower. The Macedonians were clearly visible, while their enemy remained hidden away.

  How many of them were left? How many armed men were concealed out there in the shadows? Perhaps they were preparing an ambush, or perhaps Memnon was waiting for sea-borne reinforcements.

  When his triumph was at hand, the King felt that fate might be about to trick him once again; right up to the very last moment the enemy commander might invent some new tactic. Memnon was older and more experienced, he had managed so far to contain Alexander, to respond to each blow in kind, or even to pre-empt his moves.

  That evening Alexander gave orders that anyone found drinking even a drop of wine was to be executed, whether the offender was a humble soldier or the most famous general. He also ordered that everyone should remain in full battledress.

  Groups of his men patrolled door to door with lighted torches, right up to the side gate, maintaining contact with one another by means of shouted signals. Of all the commanders, Perdiccas was the most vigilant. After a long day of continuous and exhausting fighting, after having guided through the flames the battering-ram that had inflicted the decisive blow on the walls of Halicarnassus, he had not conceded himself even a moment’s respite. He went from one guard post to another, shaking his men as they succumbed to sleep. He goaded the younger men, exhorting them to make up for their poor performance in comparison with the veterans who, despite their age, had succeeded in grabbing victory from the jaws of defeat.

  Alexander looked at him and then looked at Leonnatus, a giant in the darkness as he leaned on his spear, and Ptolemy, who just then was patrolling on horseback out on the plain with the other horsemen of the guard corps to avert a possible attack from outside. And Lysimachus, standing upright there near the catapults, and farther off the grey hair of Parmenion, who like an old lion had kept out of the way initially, preserving his own strength and that of his men, waiting for the moment when the fatal blow was required to annihilate the enemy. These men were the backbone of his army.

  At other moments he searched for other thoughts to provide distraction, to lighten his heart, thoughts other than the war and the fatigue of battle – he thought of Mieza and the deer grazing along the flower-covered banks of the river, or of naked Diogenes, who was certainly happily asleep now in his churn by the seashore, together with the dog who shared his food and his bed. The dreams of Diogenes the philosopher were lulled by the sound of the waves breaking on the pebble-covered shore. What were the dreams of the old wise man? What were his mysterious visions?

  And he thought, too, of his own mother, and when he imagined her sitting in her solitary room reading the poetry of Sappho, he felt that deep down in himself there was still a little boy, an insecure child who instinctively starts in the night, frightened by the cry of a nocturnal bird echoing in the empty sky.

  The time passed in these reveries seemed endless. He jumped suddenly when someone put a hand on his shoulder.

  ‘Hephaestion, is that you?’

  His friend handed him a bowl of warm soup. ‘Eat something. Leptine made it for you and had it sent down here with an orderly.’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘Broad bean soup. It’s good – I’ve tasted a spoonful.’

  Alexander started eating, ‘It’s not bad at all. Shall I leave you some?’

  Hephaestion nodded, ‘Just like the old times, when we were up in the mountains, in exile.’

  ‘That’s true. But there was never any warm soup back then.’

  ‘You’re right.’

  ‘Do you miss those days?’

  ‘No . . . no, certainly not. But it’s nice to think back on them. Just you and me against the world.’ He put a hand on Alexander’s head and ruffled his hair. ‘Things are different now. Sometimes I wonder if it’ll ever happen again.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Just you and me alone, together on a journey.’

  ‘Who knows, my friend?’

  Hephaestion leaned forward to poke the fire with the point of his sword and Alexander noticed something hanging from his friend’s neck, something small that glinted in the light of the flames: it was a milk tooth, a tiny incisor mounted in gold, and he recalled the day when, as a child, he had given it to Hephaestion as a token of eternal friendship.

  ‘Until death?’ Hephaestion had asked him.

  ‘Until death,’ he had replied.

  At that moment came the call of a sentry, signalling to his companions to the right and left of him. Hephaestion moved off to continue his rounds. Alexander saw him disappear into the darkness and had the feeling, very strong and clear, that if there was a journey being made ready for the pair of them in the future, it was in the direction of some mysterious region, wrapped in darkness for now.

  More time passed and they heard the calls of the second watch. It must have been around midnight. Then Alexander heard footsteps approaching and rubbed his tired eyes. It was Eumenes.

  The secretary general sat down nearby and seemed to stare into the fire.

  ‘What are you looking at?’ asked the King.

  ‘The fire,’ replied Eumenes. ‘I don’t like this fire.’

  The King turned towards him with an expression of surprise on his face. ‘What’s wrong with the fire?’

  ‘The flames are turning in our direction, the wind has changed direction. It’s blowing from the sea now.’

  ‘Just as it does every night about this time.’

  ‘Exactly. But tonight it’s different.’

  Alexander stared at him and suddenly a frightful thought leapt into his mind. Almost immediately a cry of alarm off to the right confirmed the vision that had come to him so suddenly – a fire was raging at the base of one of the great wooden towers.

  ‘There’s another one!’ shouted Eumenes, pointing to a house just in front of them, a hundred feet or so away.

  From the left came the voice of Perdiccas: ‘Fire! Fire! Alarm!’

  Lysimachus arrived breathless from running: ‘They’re out to roast us alive!’ he said. ‘They’re burning all the houses next to the breach and the brick wall. The wooden tower is going up like a torch . . . look!’

  Memnon was playing the last card in his hand, counting on the favourable wind. Alexander jumped to his feet: ‘Quickly! We have to st
op them lighting other fires – send out the assault troops, the shieldsmen, the Thracians and the Agrianians. Kill all those you find setting fires.’

  In the meantime all the companions were running to him to receive their orders. Seleucus, Philotas, Leonnatus and Ptolemy were all present.

  ‘Listen to me!’ shouted Alexander above the roar of the flames which the wind was driving ever higher and in their direction. ‘You, Seleucus, and you, Leonnatus, take half of the pezhetairoi, cross through the quarter they have set fire to and line up on the other side – your job is to block any counter-attack. It is clear they aim to regain control of the breach.

  ‘Ptolemy and Philotas – line up the rest of the troops behind the breach and station guards on all the gates! I want no surprises from behind. Lysimachus, get the ballistae and the catapults out of here or they’ll end up being destroyed when the tower collapses! Go now! Move!’

  The wooden tower was now completely enveloped in fire and the rising wind brought tongues of flame that licked the eastern sector of the breach. The heat was almost unbearable and the glow of the huge torch spread light over an immense area around the walls, so that the Agrianian archers were easily able to sight the Halicarnassians setting the fires and pick them off with their arrows. The beams of the base were soon consumed by the flames and the enormous trellis fell with a terrible crash, raising a column of smoke some three hundred feet high, higher than any tower, higher than any building in the whole city.

  Alexander was forced to abandon his observation point because of the heat, but he installed himself on the next tower, near the side gate, where he still had a good view. From there he sent his orderlies off to the various sectors and received news from them on the situation as it developed.

  He ordered Lysimachus to use the catapults to destroy the houses near the buildings which were already alight and to contain the fire – the rain of huge stones launched from the war-engines immediately increased the din and the confusion of that infernal night.

  But the King’s countermoves proved to be the right ones. The assault troops’ and the Agrianians’ operations put an end to the fires, while the heavy infantry lined up on the other side of the burned quarter dissuaded the Persians and the mercenaries from making any attempt to surprise the Macedonian army, all of whom were dazed and rattled by the violence of the flames.

  Eumenes called up many labourers from the camp and had them shovel dust, sand and rubble on to the fires which were still burning. Gradually they were brought under control. The wooden tower that had involved so much work was reduced to a great pile of ash and embers, out of which jutted massive beams, carbonized and smouldering.

  As dawn broke, the first rays of the sun struck the golden four-horse carriage on the top of the Mausoleum, while the rest of the city was still in darkness. Then, slowly, as the disc of the sun gradually appeared above the mountains, the cone of light descended the great stepped pyramid and shone on the multicoloured frieze by Scopas and Bryaxis, illuminating the fine Corinthian colonnade, the golden volutes, the fluted shafts, profiled in gold on a background of purple.

  In that riot of colour, in that triumph of crystalline light, the spectral silence which enveloped Halicarnassus was truly unsettling. Could it be that not even the mothers of the city cried for their sons who had fallen in battle?

  ‘Can it be?’ Alexander asked Eumenes, who had approached just then.

  ‘It is possible,’ replied the secretary. ‘No one cries for a mercenary. The mercenary has no mother, no father, and not even any friends. All he has is his spear, the tool with which he earns his daily bread – the stalest and most bitter of all breads.’

  30

  PTOLEMY RAN TO HIS SIDE: ‘Alexander, we await your orders.’

  ‘Take Perdiccas and Lysimachus, divide the assault troops and the shieldsmen between you and search the entire city. The Greek hoplites and our pezhetairoi will follow you as reinforcements. You must flush out all the armed men who are left alive, and above all else you must look for Memnon. I do not want him to come to any harm – if you find him, bring him to me.’

  ‘We will do as you say,’ said Ptolemy, and off he went to inform his companions.

  The King waited, together with Eumenes, under the roof of a blockhouse on the walls, from which he had a reasonable view of Halicarnassus. Not long afterwards Ptolemy sent him an orderly with this message:

  The satrap Orontobates, the tyrant Pixodarus and the Persian garrison have all taken refuge in the two fortresses in the port. They are both impregnable, there being no room for us to bring up the siege engines. For the moment there is no sign of Memnon. I await your orders.

  Alexander had Bucephalas brought to him and set off on horseback through the city streets. All doors and windows were closed tight – the people of the city were terrified and had locked themselves indoors. When he came in sight of the two fortresses which protected the entrance to the harbour, he went immediately to Perdiccas.

  ‘What shall we do, Alexander?’

  The King studied the fortifications, then he turned back and looked in the direction of the walls.

  ‘Demolish all the houses on the left-hand side of the road that leads here and then destroy all those in the area of the harbour – in this way we will be able to bring up the engines and position them next to the fortresses. The Persians must understand that there are no walls or bastions in all this region behind which they can find refuge. They have to understand that they must leave now, and never return.’

  Perdiccas nodded, leaped on to his horse and galloped to the quarter which had been razed the night before to collect groups of labourers and saboteurs, those who were still in a fit state to work. He had to have them woken with trumpet calls because they had fallen asleep where they were when the exhausting night’s work had ended.

  The chief engineer, a Thessalian by the name of Diades, had the two upper platforms of one of the siege towers taken apart to use them as supports for a ram with which they would demolish the houses near the harbour. Eumenes called some heralds and sent them off to organize the evacuation of the houses.

  When the people understood that there had been no massacres, nor rapes nor looting, they started coming out of their homes. The children first – curious to understand what all the movement in the city was about – then the women and last of all the men.

  The demolition work, however, proved to be much more extensive than envisaged because many of the houses were built one on top of another and when one wall was brought down, many others were ruined too. Indeed, because of this it was later said that Alexander had in fact razed all Halicarnassus to the ground.

  Within four days a sufficiently large area had been cleared to allow the siege machines to be brought up and they set to work battering the fortresses. But that very night, Memnon, Orontobates and Pixodarus, together with a certain number of soldiers, all embarked on some ships in the harbour and sailed offshore to join the greater part of the Persian fleet to the north, in the waters of Chios.

  The surviving Greek mercenaries, however, installed themselves in the acropolis, which because of its dominant position was truly impregnable.

  Alexander had no desire to waste more time chasing them out of there, given that in any case they were completely surrounded by his own troops. He had a trench dug around the citadel and left some officers of minor rank in charge, waiting for the mercenaries’ surrender.

  Then Alexander called a meeting of his high command in the city’s assembly rooms. Callisthenes was there too, his request to attend having been accepted. While they began deliberating on what was to be done, a Halicarnassian delegation was announced – dignitaries who wanted to meet the King.

  ‘I don’t want to receive them,’ said Alexander. ‘I don’t trust them.’

  ‘But there are decisions to be made regarding the political make-up of a most important city,’ Parmenion pointed out.

  ‘You could introduce a democratic system like the one in Ephesus,�
�� said Callisthenes.

  ‘Right,’ said Ptolemy ironically. ‘That way you’ll keep Uncle Aristotle happy, don’t you think?’

  ‘And what’s wrong with that?’ asked Callisthenes, somewhat irritated. ‘Democracy is the fairest and most balanced system for governing a city, it is the system which provides the greatest guarantee of . . .’

  Ptolemy interrupted him before he could finish the sentence, ‘But this lot have really put us through it. We have lost more men on these walls than we did on the Granicus. If it was up to me . . .’

  ‘Ptolemy is right!’ shouted Leonnatus. ‘They must realize who is giving the orders now and that they have to pay for the damage they have caused us.’

  The discussion would certainly have degenerated into a riot, but just then Eumenes heard movement outside the door and went to take a look. When he realized what was happening, he returned to Alexander and whispered something in his ear. The King smiled and stood up.

  ‘Would anyone care for a biscuit?’ he asked, raising his voice. Not only was the question enough to quieten them all, but they stood looking at one another in bewilderment.

  ‘Are you joking?’ said Leonnatus, suddenly breaking the silence. ‘I’d eat a whole side of beef, never mind the biscuits. But I do find myself wondering who on earth could have had such a bizarre idea as to bring us biscuits at this moment and . . .’

  The door opened and Alexander’s adoptive mother, Queen Ada, entered, dressed in full regalia and followed by a train of cooks with great trays filled with warm biscuits. Leonnatus’s jaw dropped at the sight and Eumenes took a biscuit and pushed it into his mouth.

  ‘Eat up, and shut up!’

  ‘Mother dearest, how are you?’ asked Alexander, standing up and moving forward to greet her. ‘Quickly, a chair for the Queen. But what a pleasant surprise! I would never have expected to see you at this moment.’