Alexander (Vol. 3) (Alexander Trilogy)

by Valerio Massimo Manfredi

  ‘We are ready, King!’ shouted the infantrymen and the horsemen, frenetically raising and lowering their spears.

  ‘Then listen to me! Now we will enter Babylon and you will see the largest and most beautiful city in the world and you will enjoy your rest after so much effort. Then we will set off on our march again and we will not stop until we reach the banks of the world’s final river, the River Oceanus.’

  A slight breeze started blowing, gaining strength so that it lifted a light dust and made the crests on the warriors’ helmets waver, a wind that seemed to come from far away, carrying weak, almost forgotten voices with it. The King felt the homesickness that was beginning to affect his men now as darkness approached; he felt just how taken aback they were by his words and he said, ‘I understand you, I know that you have left your brides and your children and you want to see them, but the Great King is not yet fully defeated – he has simply retreated to the furthest corners of his empire and he thinks that perhaps we will not succeed in following him that far. But he is wrong! If there is anyone who wants to turn back, I have no criticism of him, but if you prefer to continue then I will be proud to lead men like you. From tomorrow onwards Eumenes will distribute three thousand silver drachmae to each of you and much more money when we conquer the other capitals which contain great treasures. We will stay in Babylon for thirty days and thus you will have time to think it over. Then Eumenes will read the roll call so that we know who is going back home and who wants to follow me in this new enterprise. Now dismiss, men, and prepare yourselves, for tomorrow we set off on our march once more.’

  The army exploded into a long, frenetic cheer, while Alexander spurred on Bucephalas with his heels as he rode once more through the ranks at a gallop. He signalled to his companions and they rode off with him towards the Persian camp, which was being kept under strict surveillance by the men of the Vanguard and a division of Agrianian assault troops.

  It seemed impossible, but the royal pavilion was even more luxurious and sumptuous than the one he had seen at Issus, although there were fewer servants. They did find over two hundred talents in gold and silver coin that were to have been used to pay the wages of the mercenaries and the newly enlisted troops, and Eumenes immediately started preparing the inventory.

  The King invited his friends to sit down with him and then ordered the servants to provide food, and he ate as well.

  Leonnatus came out with a sort of loud groan and said, ‘Lads, I really can’t believe it, but I thought we’d had it today. There was that moment when they’d broken through on Parmenion’s side, while Bessus was taking the Greeks out on the right, and we were right in the middle like a bunch of idiots.’

  ‘So that’s what the surprise was that you had in store,’ said Seleucus. ‘The reinforcements from Macedonia and Thessaly – but how did you know that they were going to arrive in time? Just one hour later and—’

  ‘We’d all be out with stakes up us like skewers and the crows shitting on our heads, just waiting to tuck into our eyes and our balls. That’s exactly what they always start with . . . did you know that?’ asked Leonnatus.

  ‘Enough!’ Alexander interrupted him. ‘I have no wish to joke tonight.’ Then, turning to Seleucus, ‘General Antipater had prepared everything carefully and from Tyre onwards I was receiving news on the reinforcements’ daily movements. I was sure they would make it. In any case we will soon know more – we are expecting visitors.’

  ‘Nothing is ever sure, my young and resplendent God,’ came a voice from the entrance to the tent. ‘Just a little more rain up in the mountains last night and your Thessalians and Macedonians would have been stuck on the other side of the Tigris, waiting for the flow to recede or for Darius to cut you to pieces.’

  ‘Come in, Eumolpus,’ Alexander called out as he recognized the informer’s voice. ‘Perhaps I should have placed my trust in Mazaeus’s promise? His was the most dangerous operation of them all and he very nearly managed to take us from behind.’

  ‘Why don’t you ask him?’ said Eumolpus as he entered, accompanying the man Alexander had seen in the prisoners’ tent. ‘He is here. Just as you ordered.’

  The satrap entered, walked directly towards Alexander and bowed so low that his forehead was directly above the ground, then he lifted his hands to his lips and sent a kiss.

  ‘I see that you pay homage to me as your king,’ said Alexander, ‘but if I had believed in your word then the dogs and the birds would be picking my bones right now.’

  The satrap stood up and said in perfect Greek, ‘May I respond, Sire?’

  ‘Of course. In fact, the pair of you ought to sit down because there are a number of things I’d like you to explain.’

  15

  THE DISCUSSION WENT on deep into the night and in the end Mazaeus confessed that he had wanted to honour the promise made to King Darius to bring his family back and that was why he had launched such a fierce attack on the Macedonian left wing. He pointed out, however, that he could have effected a much more damaging attack from the Macedonian camp, wiping out the supplies and even have wiped the phalanx units that were marching toward the Persian centre and thus had their backs exposed to him.

  ‘And why didn’t you?’ Alexander asked.

  ‘Because he couldn’t,’ Parmenion interrupted. ‘We were still fighting and they couldn’t get away without wiping us out first.’

  ‘This is possible, but it would lead us into an endless discussion. So answer my question, Mazaeus.’

  ‘I am a Babylonian, Great King, and the Babylonians are famed throughout the world for being able to read the messages written in the sky and in the movements of the constellations. Our magi have seen your star shining brighter than all the others in a dark sky, completely outshining Darius’s star. I could not go against the signs written up there, the signs confirmed by Marduk, our highest god, through his oracle in the temple of Esagila in Babylon.’

  ‘I am not certain I fully understand your reasoning, Mazaeus,’ replied Alexander, ‘but I can tell you that as far as I know, and judging by what I saw, you fought valiantly in favour of your king and his family. This is why I intend to reward you, not for any pronouncement of obscure seers that may have stopped the charge of your horsemen at the last moment.

  ‘Therefore you will be reconfirmed as satrap of Babylonia and you will have the support of the Macedonian garrison I will leave here to make sure your authority is respected.’

  This was a skilful move in reconfirming a good local administrator under the direct surveillance of a Macedonian military authority, while at the same time showing himself to be magnanimous. Eumenes showed his approval with a nod of his head.

  Mazaeus bent over in an even lower bow, ‘Does this mean that I am free to return to Babylon?’

  ‘To your palace, as satrap – right now, if you wish, with your personal escort.’

  Mazaeus stood up and, lowering his eyes, said, ‘There will be nothing from now on that can ever lead me to forsake the loyalty I swear here before you, before the gods and on my honour.’

  ‘I thank you, Mazaeus, and now let us rest: this has been the hardest day and tomorrow we must see to the funerals of our fallen comrades.’

  Everyone stood up, mounted their horses and rode off towards the camp. Alexander, however, took Bucephalas by the bridle and started walking off on foot. Eumolpus of Soloi appeared behind him and asked, ‘Do you mind if I walk some way with you?’

  ‘Not at all. After a day like this, the best thing to do is to walk a while in the peace of the evening.’

  ‘I have heard about Barsine and her boy – I am truly sorry. I told you he was in Darius’s camp because I feared he might carry out some mad act.’

  ‘Youngsters are like that,’ replied Alexander, and his face, pale in the moonlight and framed by his long hair, seemed more than ever like a boy’s. ‘He did what he felt was the right thing – he died like a hero in the full bloom of his youth and we must not weep for him. No human being
can lament being alive because no human being knows what tomorrow may bring. What awaits us may well be infinitely worse than death – disfiguring diseases, shameful mutilations, slavery, torture . . .’

  Eumolpus kept up, trying to maintain the same slow pace as Bucephalas as he followed his master. Alexander ran his hand over the animal’s mane, ‘Poor Bucephalas – there hasn’t even been time to have him washed and groomed.’

  ‘Or perhaps you simply didn’t want to separate yourself, not even for a moment, from a friend who helped you conquer the world today.’

  ‘That’s true,’ agreed Alexander; and he said nothing else.

  At that moment from far off they heard people moaning, accompanied by the mournful sound of flutes, and then they saw torches moving across the plain in a sort of procession. The King understood and took a short cut to reach the end of the cortege that was moving in a wide circle towards a small rise surmounted by a stone tumulus. Eumolpus stopped and murmured, ‘Go, my boy, accompany her to her final resting place.’ And he moved off with his swaying gait towards the Macedonian camp. From the other side, beyond Darius’s tent, came the first raucous sounds of the vultures and the other birds of prey as they descended to banquet on the limitless field of death.

  The cortege reached the top of the hill and the pall bearers placed the litter on top of the stone tumulus that had been prepared – a ‘tower of silence’. At the corners of the small construction they placed four censers, each of which released a light bluish cloud of incense, and then they left. Alexander, who up until that moment had stood quietly to one side, moved towards Barsine’s body. Embalmed and perfumed, her appearance had not changed and her eyes looked as though they were closed lightly, giving the impression of sleep. They had dressed her in white with a blue stole and placed a crown of small yellow flowers from the desert around her head. Alexander stood alone before her and his memories came to him as in a flood of images. He saw her smile once more, together with her tears, and he felt her warm kisses over his body and it seemed impossible that it was all over and that her beauty, now lifeless, was destined to meet such destruction. He took his golden ribbon from his head and placed it in her hands, then he kissed her for the last time: ‘Farewell, my Love. I will not forget you.’

  In that extreme solitude, the din of the titanic battle now behind him, together with the memory of her fragile voice and her beauty, neither of which would ever be anything more than memories now, all these things opened up a great void inside him, bringing a childlike fear of the darkness. For a moment he was overwhelmed by an infinite grief and melancholy and he fell to his knees and cried, his head leaning on the mound, calling out her name more than once.

  Then he stood up to look upon her one last time and on seeing her there, still so beautiful, he found he could not accept the idea that her body would be torn apart by wild dogs and birds of prey. He returned to the camp and ordered Eumenes to have a stonework funeral sanctuary erected to protect her remains. Only when he saw that this had been completed did he agree to set off on the march again.

  16

  THEY SET OFF AFTER having buried the Greek and Macedonian soldiers who had fallen in battle, for there was not enough wood there to build sufficient funeral pyres. The heat and humidity and the great number of Persian bodies decomposing all over the field were poisoning the air and some soldiers had come down with mysterious fevers for which no remedy could be found.

  They came once again to the ford across the Tigris and passed over to the western bank of the river before beginning to move down towards Babylon.

  On the fourth stage of this journey, while they were crossing through a region called Adiabene, one of the officers from Mazaeus’s escort came to Alexander to tell him that there was a remarkable natural phenomenon to be seen – a naphtha spring!

  ‘Naphtha?’ the King asked. He recalled the occasion back at Mieza when Aristotle had burned the naphtha he had been sent from Asia in a flask, remembering the dense smoke and the acrid smell; and he also remembered the fireboat that the inhabitants of Tyre had launched against him one night, setting fire to the assault towers, and how the day after the air was still full of that same stink. So he set off behind the officer who led him to the bottom of a hollow where a fire burned continuously, releasing a thick column of smoke into the air. All around there was a large, black and oily mass, like a swamp with strange iridescent reflections and from which there came that terrible smell. Callisthenes was already there and he was taking a sample of some of the liquid using a glass phial.

  ‘I want to send some to Uncle Aristotle for his experiments.’

  ‘But what is it exactly?’ asked Alexander.

  ‘Well . . . it’s difficult to say. The taste is the most revolting you can possibly imagine – the smell and its appearance too. Perhaps it’s a sort of humour, almost an exudate of this land that is so battered by the rays of the sun. As you know, however, it is combustible and generates incredible heat. Look!’

  At that moment a group of soldiers, on orders from their officer, had filled some skins with the naphtha and were spreading two lines of it along the sides of the pathway that led to the camp. Then the officer took a lighted lamp from the hands of one of his men and ignited the ends of the lines – two walls of flame rose immediately and rushed as quick as thought itself towards the camp, leaving everyone with their mouths open in astonishment. The strange substance continued to burn along the pathway, accompanied by two curtains of dense, stinking smoke and an unbearable heat.

  Alexander immediately took a bath to free himself of the smell which had impregnated even his hair, and while Leptine washed him, he spoke to Hephaestion, Ptolemy, Callisthenes, a new masseur who came from Athens and whose name was Athenophanes, and his assistant, a boy by the name of Stephanus.

  ‘From what I’ve seen,’ said the King, ‘this naphtha could be used as a weapon – just imagine the effect if we were to unleash it on our enemies!’

  ‘I have heard that naphtha is not suitable for such applications,’ said the masseur, who as a young boy had attended a few philosophy lessons. ‘Indeed, the type of fire it produces is completely anomalous. Fire, as everyone knows, is an ethereal, celestial element, which is transmitted through the air spreading heat and light. Naphtha on the other hand comes from the earth and burns only on contact with a completely arid ground like sand or on earth that is too moist and rich like that of southern Babylonia. On a substance of some intermediate humour, such as a man might be considered to be, it would never catch fire – there is no doubt of this.’

  ‘That seems a rather shaky hypothesis,’ Callisthenes objected. ‘It is difficult to apply intellectual categories to individual physical manifestations which are influenced by multiple and non-quantifiable components and what is more—’

  ‘I am sure of what I am saying,’ retorted Athenophanes as Alexander came out of his bath and Leptine began to dry him with a linen towel, ‘and my assistant, Stephanus, has heard my teacher, the sophist Hermippus, expound this thesis.’

  ‘Indeed, I am so sure that I am prepared to demonstrate it myself with an experiment, right here and now before all of you!’ exclaimed the boy, perhaps simply to attract attention and to ingratiate himself in some way with Alexander.

  ‘I really don’t think it’s worth bothering about,’ said the King. ‘It’s best just to forget it.’

  The boy insisted, however, supported by Athenophanes who continued to spout his philosophical theories. No sooner said than done and a servant appeared with the naphtha which young Stephanus began spreading over his body very carefully, as though he were using olive oil.

  ‘Now,’ announced Athenophanes as he picked up a lamp, ‘I will demonstrate that on a human body of medium humour naphtha cannot burn,’ and he brought the lamp to the boy’s skin. In the blink of an eye Stephanus’s body was wrapped in a ferocious globe of flame that produced a terrible heat. His screams were heart-rending. Everyone grabbed buckets and any other container and threw the
water from the bath over him, which fortunately was to hand, but even then it wasn’t easy to put the flames out.

  Alexander immediately called for Philip, who took care of the boy, spreading certain ointments over his skin for the burns. It took a great deal of effort on the physician’s part, but he managed to save the boy’s life. Stephanus, however, was seriously maimed and disfigured and his health remained poor for the rest of his life.

  Callisthenes advised everyone to steer clear of the evil-smelling liquid until his Uncle Aristotle had completed his studies and discovered what its real characteristics were. The following day they set off once more on their journey.

  *

  As they advanced, the steppes gave way to an ever more fertile and rich land, irrigated by a great number of canals that linked the Tigris to the Euphrates. Throughout the countryside there were many villages whose peasants were busy getting the land ready for sowing.

  Wherever they stopped the local chiefs offered them regional specialities – palm hearts in particular, which were very pleasant and refreshing. Palm wine, however, lay heavily on their stomachs and often caused headaches, but there were really no alternatives; normal wine, even the best wine, did not really keep well in that climate and the drinking water was often poor as well. The dates were excellent, as were the pomegranates that grew abundantly and were exceptionally tasty.