Alexander (Vol. 3) (Alexander Trilogy)

by Valerio Massimo Manfredi

  ‘How many of them do you think there are?’ asked Seleucus.

  ‘I don’t know,’ replied Ptolemy, ‘several thousand in my opinion. If Ariobarzanes has decided to hold the pass then they cannot hope to do so with just a few poorly armed soldiers. They must have considerable numbers of crack troops.’ At that moment Eumenes came in, blue with cold, his teeth chattering. His papyrus carrying case was over his shoulder, containing the sheets, the pen and the ink with which he wrote the expedition journal every evening.

  Have you counted our losses?’ Alexander asked him.

  ‘They are very heavy,’ replied the Secretary as he ran through a sheet of hastily compiled notes, ‘at least three hundred dead and a hundred wounded.’

  ‘What do we do now?’ asked Leonnatus.

  ‘We cannot leave them out there for the wolves,’ replied Alexander. We have to bring them back’

  ‘But that will mean even more losses,’ said Lysimachus.

  ‘If we go out there now we’ll come to grief on the rocks in the dark; if we go out in daylight tomorrow they’ll be able to pick us off from the top of the gorge.’

  ‘I’m going now,’ said the King. ‘I cannot leave our boys out there unburied. If you’re afraid, you don’t need to follow me.’

  ‘I’ll come with you,’ said Hephaestion, getting to his feet to show his willingness.

  ‘You know perfectly well it’s not a matter of fear,’ said Lysimachus, stung into replying.

  ‘Oh no? Well what is the problem then?’

  ‘There’s no point arguing,’ said Ptolemy. ‘That’s no solution to anything. Let’s try to give it some thought.’

  ‘I . . . I think I might have a solution,’ said Eumenes.

  Everyone turned to look at the Secretary General and Leonnatus shook his head, thinking to himself that this little Greek specimen always had the answer to everything.

  ‘A solution?’ asked Alexander. And what might that be?’

  ‘Just one moment,’ replied Eumenes. ‘I’ll be back straight away.’ He left and returned shortly afterwards with one of the local guides who had accompanied them up to that point.

  ‘Speak freely,’ said the Secretary. ‘The King and his friends will listen to you.’

  The man bowed to Alexander and his companions and began speaking in reasonably understandable Greek, with an accent that sounded slightly Cypriot.

  ‘Where are you from?’ Alexander asked him.

  ‘I am Lycian from the Patara area. I was given into slavery as a young man in order to pay a debt of my father’s with his Persian landlord, a man by the name of Arsaces who took me with him when he returned, and gave me his animals to look after while they grazed in this area. For that reason I know these mountains like the back of my hand.’

  All those present held their breath as they realized that this poor wretch might have the fate of the entire army in his hands.

  ‘If you go back into that gorge,’ he continued, ‘the Persians will wipe you out before you reach the bottom of the wall – only small units can operate down there. I know a path, however, an hour’s march from here, that leads up through a forest. It’s a goat track and men can only move along it in single file, but four or five hours ought to be enough to reach the top and take the Persians from behind.’

  ‘It seems to me we have no other choice,’ said Seleucus, ‘if we really want to move forwards.’

  ‘I think so too,’ said Alexander, ‘but there is a problem – if the pathway is so very narrow then we won’t be able to get enough of our men up to the top to be able to withstand a counterattack from the Persians. Someone will, in any case, have to engage them head on at the wall.’

  ‘I will take care of that,’ said Lysimachus.

  ‘No, you will come with me along the path. Craterus will go with the Agrianians, the Thracians and a battalion of the assault troops, trying to keep losses to a minimum. We will attack at the same time – our men from above, and Craterus from below. A simultaneous attack of this kind ought to throw the Persians into a panic’

  ‘We’ll need a signal,’ said Craterus, ‘but what can it be? The gorge is too deep for light signals and the distance between our units might be too much for noises or shouts.’

  ‘There is a way,’ said the Lycian shepherd. ‘There is a place near the wall where the echo bounces across the walls of the gorge – a trumpet blow carries a long distance. I’ve experimented with it many times with my horn to wile away the time when I was out with the sheep.’

  Alexander looked at him, ‘What’s your name, Lycian?’

  ‘My master used to call me Ochus, which in Persian means ‘bastard’, but my real name is Rhedas.’

  ‘Listen, Rhedas, if you have told us the truth and you can lead us up behind the Persians, I will make you a rich man – you’ll be able to live in luxury for the rest of your days, return to your home town, buy the finest house there with servants, women, animals – everything and anything you wish.’

  The man replied without lowering his eyes, ‘I would do it for nothing, Sire. The Persians kept me as a slave, they beat me and punished me thousands and thousands of times for no reason. I am ready to set off whenever you say.’

  Leonnatus put his head outside, ‘The snow is easing off

  ‘Excellent,’ said Alexander. ‘Let’s have supper served and give some wine to all those who have to go with Craterus. Make sure you offer an incentive to all those who volunteer because they’ll have to set off immediately after supper – the Persians will never imagine we’re so mad as to try again so early on. We will follow Rhedas after the first watch.’

  The King ate with his friends in the tent, the same military rations that were distributed to the soldiers, and then they each went off to get ready for the night expedition. Craterus set off first with his men, then Alexander, as he had announced, after the first watch, with the majority of the army.

  Rhedas led them to the beginning of the path and then up towards the pass through a thick wood. It was a narrow, difficult throughway, cut into the side of the mountain not by the hand of man, but by the centuries-old passage of shepherds and travellers searching for a shortcut on their journey towards Persis. There were moments when the path went alongside precipices and they had to blinker the horses to keep them from bolting in terror; on other occasions it was interrupted by a landslide or made slippery by the ice, and the men had to hold on to one another or tie themselves together with ropes so as not to fall down below and end up smashed to pieces on the rocks.

  The guide moved forward sure-footedly, despite the darkness, and it was clear that he could have made the journey even blindfolded. Some warriors, however, actually fell down into the chasm and it was impossible to recover their bodies. Alexander walked behind Rhedas, but he often stopped to help those who were struggling – more than once he risked his own life to save those of soldiers who were in danger.

  Before dawn the temperature dropped further and the men found the going even harder, their limbs stiff and already tired by the long ordeal of the night march, but the glow of the sun began to filter through the dense clouds on the horizon and gave them heart – at least now they could better make out the landscape around them and the thinning vegetation told them they were evidently approaching the summit.

  When they finally reached the top, the wind fell and Alexander gave orders for the leading troops to stay put until at least a part of those following on behind had caught up with them. Then they set off on a silent march, trying to make use of such vegetation as there was to keep themselves out of sight of the Persians for as long as possible.

  The guide then indicated a rise in the land there before them, a sort of rocky outcrop which extended out towards the gorge, and he said, ‘This is where the echo works. On the other side of the rise we will come into sight of the fortified wall which controls access to the Persian Gates. We have reached our destination.’

  Ptolemy stepped forward, ‘Do you think Craterus will already b
e in position?’

  ‘Certainly, as long as everything has gone according to plan,’ replied Alexander, ‘and even if he has encountered some difficulty, we have no choice now. Line up the men and have the signal sounded – we will attack the Persian positions.’

  Ptolemy ordered his soldiers into three lines – first of all a squadron of cavalry, then the light infantry with the archers and javelin throwers, then the shock troops and the shieldsmen under Lysimachus. At that point he signalled to a trumpeter who immediately took up position on the rocky outcrop above the gorge. The trumpet blast rose as sharply as the call of a cockerel, piercing the still air of dawn, and immediately there came the echo from the wall before them and it rolled repeatedly across the hills all around until it was finally extinguished across the vast immaculate expanse of snow.

  There followed a silence as heavy as the leaden sky as it loomed over the assembled army and they all listened out, waiting for a reply. Suddenly, there came the sound of another trumpet and then another, multiplied many times by the echo, and then the wild cries of the warriors as they threw themselves into the attack.

  ‘Craterus has unleashed the Agrianians!’ shouted Alexander. ‘Forward, men! Let’s show them how we’ve survived the cold!’

  He leaped on to his horse and took up position at the centre of his squadron, riding up to the rise which overlooked the Persian garrison, while the infantry followed at a run so as not to lose contact with them. Then, as soon as the Persian positions came into view, he led the assault, spurring on his mount and shouting the war cry.

  All the trumpets sounded in unison, all the infantrymen set off, their weapons ready, while the horsemen galloped forward to clash with the enemy who now found themselves having to divide their forces on two fronts. Alexander’s cavalry charged over the dyke which protected the garrison and the infantry followed on immediately behind, engaging the defenders in mortal hand-to-hand combat.

  The Persians quickly realized the situation they were in and sounded their alarm, but in responding they had to leave parts of the battlements uncovered and the Agrianians climbed up, using their daggers in the cracks of the wall, flattening themselves against it every time the enemy threw rocks or fired arrows at them. Soon the first of them reached the top and while some of them engaged the Persians, others helped their companions climb up more easily by throwing ropes down to them. Although there were fewer of them, the Macedonians and their allies got the better of the enemy, perhaps because many of them had been taken by surprise in their sleep and were still unarmed.

  Ariobarzanes had only just managed to move out of his quarters, sword in hand, when he found himself immediately surrounded by a group of Macedonian cavalry threatening him with the points of their spears. He was forced to order a general surrender and then watched helplessly as Alexander’s army marched through the freed pass which was supposed to have protected Persepolis. The city was now at the mercy of the enemy.

  21

  ALEXANDER WAITED UNTIL all the rest of his army had climbed up and then gave orders for them to begin the descent down towards the highlands of Persis. Before setting off, however, he summoned the Lycian shepherd who had guided them up to the fortified pass.

  ‘Your assistance was crucial,’ he said. ‘You have helped Alexander conquer an empire, perhaps even change the course of history. No one can say whether this is a good or a bad thing, but I am in any case most grateful to you.’ He was about to add, ‘Tell me whatever it is you wish in reward and it will be yours,’ but then he remembered the occasion when he had said this unfortunate phrase to Diogenes, the old philosopher, as he lay naked in the fading light of sunset, and he finished by saying simply, ‘Thank you, my friend.’

  The shepherd had tears in his eyes as he watched the King mount his horse and move off down the hill, but he came to himself when he heard another voice behind him. It was Eumenes: ‘The King has told me that you may have whatever you want, just as he promised you. All you have to do is let me know.’

  Rhedas replied, ‘If I were younger, I would like to travel with him, to see what will happen next, but I have to think about my life as an old man – I would like to buy back my father’s field and the house I was born in, on the coast. I haven’t seen the sea in such a long time . . .’

  ‘You will see it again, shepherd, and you will have your house and your field. You will also be able to start a family, if you so wish; and if you have children and grandchildren, you will tell them of the night on which you led King Alexander to his destiny; and if they don’t believe you, you will show them this.’

  ‘What is it?’

  Eumenes placed a small pendant in his hand, ‘It’s the golden star of the Argeads. Only the King’s closest friends have them.’

  He also gave him a leather document holder: ‘In here is a letter from the King to the governor of Lycia, ordering him to give you everything you wish. It is worth more than any sum in gold or in silver. Make sure you do not lose it. Farewell, shepherd, and good luck’

  *

  They came down to the foothills of the mountains during the course of the following evening and found themselves with the highlands of Persis spread before them, the river banks edged with long lines of poplars and dotted with villages consisting of rough brickwork homes.

  They came to the Royal Road on the banks of the Araxes and Alexander set up camp to wait for Parmenion with the rest of the army, but they had just served the supper when a hetairoi of the royal guard entered and announced a visitor, ‘Sire, there is a man who wants to speak to you. He has crossed the river in a boat and appears to be in a great hurry.’

  ‘Have him come in then.’

  The soldier introduced a man dressed in the Persian manner, his trousers tied above his ankles and a linen drape wrapped around his head and tied round his neck.

  ‘Who are you?’ asked Alexander.

  ‘I come on behalf of the Satrap Abulites, he who commands the fort at Persepolis. He is ready to surrender the city to you and has asked me to tell you to set off straight away, if you want to find the Great King’s treasure still intact. If you waste any time, then those who are calling for the city to be defended to the bitter end might win the day. There are yet others who are calling for the treasure to be hidden so as to finance King Darius’s return. What must I tell my master?’

  Alexander thought in silence for a few moments, then replied, ‘Tell him that I will be within sight of Persepolis in two days’ time, at sunset, with my cavalry.’

  The man left and was accompanied straight away to his boat. The King immediately summoned Diades of Larissa, his chief engineer.

  ‘I must have a bridge built across the Araxes by tomorrow evening,’ he said, before he had even sat down.

  Diades, who by now was used to being asked the impossible with impossible deadlines, did not bat an eyelid. ‘How wide do you want it?’ he asked.

  ‘As wide as possible . . . we must get the cavalry through as quickly as we can.’

  ‘Five cubits?’

  ‘Ten.’

  ‘Ten cubits it will be then. Very well.’

  ‘Do you think you can manage it?’

  ‘Have I ever let you down, Sire?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘But I will have to begin the works right now.’

  ‘As you wish. You may give orders to anyone, even the Generals, you have all my authority.’

  Diades left, gathered up ten teams of men, equipped with axes, saws, cables and ladders, together with mules and horses, and sent them out to cut fir trees in a wood nearby. Some of the trunks were cleaned, their ends carved to a point and flame-hardened, while others were cut into planks. Three hundred people worked all through the night and by dawn the material was all piled on the riverbank, ready to be assembled.

  Diades took the pointed stakes and began by driving them into the riverbed with sledgehammers, two at a time, some ten cubits apart. Then he connected them length – and breadth-wise with nailed boards, creating
a lateral rib and a horizontal deck for the crossing. The bridge advanced segment by segment towards the middle of the river where the stakes were reinforced with great rocks, which helped break the force of the flow.

  At sunset Alexander lined up the army in battle formation, waited for the last plank to be nailed to the supports and then set off on Bucephalas at a gallop, followed by his companions and four squadrons of hetairoi. Behind them came the infantry, led by Craterus.

  They rode all through the night and only stopped to rest around the third watch, before sunrise. Alexander, completely exhausted by events of recent days and by his many sleepless nights, fell into a deep sleep. The thin highland air, the light eastern breeze and the shady wood of mountain planes and maples gave them all a sense of peace and deep tranquillity. The horses grazed freely along the banks of a stream, the waters of which ran clear and clean, its banks lined by willows and cornels. Bucephalas trotted among them, followed by Peritas, snapping happily at the horse’s hocks. There was no hint of what was about to happen.

  One of the scout patrols pushed on towards the west in the direction of the Royal Road to check that there were no surprises waiting for them in that direction. They could not believe their eyes when they saw a long column of men moving forward towards them, red standards flying in the wind – Parmenion’s army!

  They galloped to them and immediately identified themselves. ‘I am Euthydemus, commander of the eighth company of the third squadron of the hetairoi,’ said their chief to the leading officer of the column. ‘Take me to General Parmenion.’

  ‘General Parmenion is down at the end of the column, with the rearguard, because there have been some skirmishes with the Median cavalry on the highlands. I will summon General Cleitus for you.’