Son of the Moon

by Jennifer Macaire

  Alexander chuckled. ‘If only he could hear you.’

  ‘Have you heard anything about the trial?’

  ‘He got himself off, of course.’ There was no rancour in his voice, only amusement. I thought that of all the reactions Demosthenes expected, that was probably the one that would sting the most. ‘He’s got a weak chin,’ Alexander said thoughtfully. ‘Perhaps that explains it.’

  Then I thought of something else. ‘So you were serious about creating the biggest democracy the world has ever known?’

  ‘Of course.’ He frowned. ‘Didn’t it turn out that way? I’ve given all my cities independent governments. What happens to them? What is it? Why don’t you answer me?’

  I shook my head. ‘I can’t tell you that, don’t ask me, please.’

  ‘Why is there such pain in your voice then? Did everything go wrong?’

  ‘No, don’t worry about it.’ I shut my mouth. ‘Goodnight.’

  ‘Goodnight? You expect me to get any sleep now? You tell me stories about weapons that destroy cities, poisons as light as air, whole countries destroyed, and then you tell me, you say … you say that …’ His voice broke off as he searched for the right words. ‘You tell me that my ideas were never put into practice.’ It was a statement, not a question, but I still said nothing. ‘Ashley, speak to me. Please. Don’t you see? What I’m doing isn’t to destroy the world, it’s for change, it’s something vital. It’s to build a new culture made up of all that’s the best of east and west.’

  ‘Did you ever think to ask the people if they wanted to change?’ I whispered.

  ‘What’s the matter with you?’ His voice was rising again. ‘Who exactly do you want me to ask? Do you think the people here, in this time, have any say in the matter? Only in Athens. Only in Greece. That’s what I’m trying to give to the world.’

  ‘Power to the people?’

  ‘Oh, very nice. Doubt and sarcasm mixed together. Thank you so much. So tell me, Ashley of the Sacred Sandals. What should I do now? Should I go liberate the children of this valley? Should I try and attack the impregnable fortress of Aornos?’

  ‘Well, of course!’ Indignation filled me.

  ‘Of course. Go kill a bunch of people on a rock because their religion tells them to sacrifice children. Don’t they have a right to worship as they please?’

  ‘Now who’s being sarcastic?’

  ‘Stop crying. It won’t work. Your attitude is childish. Are you all like that in your world? Capable of destroying each other for ideas? Building terrible weapons and not being able to control them? What else have you done to my world?’

  ‘Your world?’

  ‘Yes. My world. Paul and Chiron’s world. Usse’s, and Axiom’s, and Brazza’s – our world. In your time do people still consider it their world? Or have they become so alienated from it that they have ceased to care about it? Will they destroy it and go live on one of the many planets in space? Is that the idea?’ In the dark I couldn’t read his expression, but I could sense deep anger behind his words and I shivered.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Oh. Well, that’s a relief.’

  ‘What’s a relief?’ What did he mean?

  ‘That the world is not being destroyed. Tell me, Ashley, what is your world truly like? You’ve told me of machines and progress. You said once that the elephants were nearly all killed. Is there any good in your world?’

  ‘Lots of good. There are laws to protect children, so that they are not kidnapped and taken to be sacrificed.’

  ‘No children are ever harmed in your world?’

  ‘I didn’t say that, but it’s against the law to hurt a child!’

  ‘So, your people have lost all notions of right and wrong and need laws to tell them not to harm children? Go on.’

  I was flustered. ‘Women can vote and work. They are considered equals in most countries.’

  He pounced on that. ‘Most countries? Not in all countries? In the countries where they are not considered equals, are they respected? Can they dress as they like? Obtain an abortion if they wish? Ask for a divorce?’

  ‘No. They can’t.’

  ‘So in your time women are even more downtrodden than in my time.’ His voice was wry.

  ‘Probably.’ I winced, thinking of the religious zealots who made women’s lives hell in some countries.

  ‘Certainly, you mean. Now, here and now, a woman can do all that, even a Persian woman.’

  ‘I think I want to go to sleep.’

  ‘I don’t think you’ll get much sleep.’ His voice was tight.

  He was right. I lay awake and wondered what on earth made me try to explain my modern mentality to a barbarian who was three thousand years my inferior and who couldn’t possibly begin to comprehend the value of human rights.

  Ha! Tears seeped out of the corners of my eyes. How ridiculous I must have sounded. How pompous and naïve to think that my society was any better. People were no kinder, no more intelligent, no better than they were in Alexander’s time. If anything Alexander was right. We had alienated ourselves so far from nature that we had no more respect for the earth that carried us.

  The Sphinx’s riddle came to me then. ‘What walks on four feet in the morning, two feet in the afternoon, and three feet in the evening?’ The answer is ‘Man’. In the morning he is a babe, crawling on his hands and knees. In the afternoon of his life he is an adult, walking on two feet, and in the evening he is old, leaning on a cane.

  If I took the riddle further I could equate it with all mankind. In the morning, mankind was a child, innocent and wondering, worshipping mother earth and father sky. In the afternoon, he was an adolescent. Destructive and arrogant, nearly destroying the planet with his stupidity and lack of respect. Would mankind even make it to old age? I wondered. Three thousand years in the future mankind was still not quite grown-up. We were still not wise, and it was nearly too late.

  Now it was morning. The sky turned light grey, and Axiom woke up and lit the fire. I hadn’t slept, or maybe I had. Maybe the Sphinx’s riddle had all been a dream.

  Children in the morning. It was fitting, I thought, for the people of Alexander’s time.

  Chapter Five

  Alexander woke up and was in a bad mood all day long. Evidently, he hadn’t liked my stories about the future, and frankly, I hadn’t either. But it made me appreciate this time more with its clean air, crystal clear waters in streams and lakes, and simple life.

  I took Paul for a stroll in the forest. He was content to walk with me, clutching my hand and commenting about all the birds and insects he saw. I kept bending down to kiss his round cheeks. I watched him constantly, and hugged him whenever I could. I wanted to fill my senses with his presence. My heart ached and I didn’t know why.

  Then, Paul and I went to see an elephant and he patted it under the watchful eye of the driver. Alexander sat nearby, next to the tent. His generals had made their reports and now he sifted through the many letters he had received from Hermes, our messenger.

  I saw Alexander staring at Paul. ‘He’s a beautiful child,’ I said. ‘You must have looked very much like him when you were a baby.’

  ‘I think I was skinnier.’ He grinned. ‘My mother had to fight to get me to eat. And I sucked my thumb.’

  ‘Paul is an easy child,’ I agreed. ‘He won’t make any trouble. He’s used to travel.’

  ‘When we go, he must stay here,’ said Alexander, looking up at me. He put the letters down by his side and got painfully to his feet. He limped over to me.

  ‘What are you talking about? Of course he’s coming with us! He’s my baby, I travelled halfway around the world searching for him.’ My voice rose shrilly.

  He looked at me sorrowfully and put his hands on my shoulders. ‘He is yours no longer,’ he said.

  I pushed him away. ‘Is that what you think?’ I yelled. ‘Is that what you think? He’s your son! Your firstborn son! Look at him, how can you just walk away from him?’

  ‘Do yo
u see me walking away from him?’ His voice cracked. ‘Can you see what’s in my heart?’

  ‘I don’t know what’s in your heart. How can you abandon your own child?’

  He held my arms. His hands gripped me tightly. ‘You have a small memory, but don’t think I do. I remember what you said to me when we were in Persepolis. You said, “When we find Paul, do not proclaim him your heir.” Don’t you think I wondered about that? For many nights I lay awake, just thinking about those words. Now I know what they mean. They mean that I will not be able to protect my heirs. They mean that you are afraid for his life. You are living here in this time with a sword over your head. A sword which forbids you to change anything that might affect the future. Do you think I want to put anyone I love in danger? I love my son, and so I want him to live. I will not be selfish.’

  ‘And what about me? I can protect him! I will! I can’t leave him, I won’t. If I have to I will stay here with him. You can go …’ I choked in anger. ‘Go do whatever you have to, conquer the world, become king of kings, or whatever you want to become.’ I stomped my foot on the ground.

  Brazza and Axiom hid inside the tent. I could hear Chiron wailing in his hammock, and Usse poked his head outside and withdrew it just as quickly when he saw the sparks flying. Alexander and I hardly ever fought, but this battle promised to be epic. ‘Paul is my child. And yours.’ I added, seeing his eyes narrow. ‘And if I say he comes with us, he comes.’

  ‘And if I say he stays, he stays!’

  ‘So say it!’ I shrieked. ‘But you can go without me!’

  ‘You’re going to leave me?’ he asked, incredulous.

  There came a shocked silence. I had forgotten how binding words were to the people of Alexander’s time. ‘I wasn’t thinking.’

  ‘I don’t know what will become of me, but your words have wounded me in ways you will never be able to understand.’ His eyes were clouded with pain.

  ‘Alex …’

  ‘No. Don’t “Alex” me. I need to be alone to think. And I hope you will do some thinking too. You are here now, so you must accept it. Perhaps you don’t believe in prophesies, but I do.’ His voice was low, so low I had to strain to hear the last part of his phrase. ‘And it is said that he will destroy his father to call down the moon, his mother.’

  ‘But I am his mother!’ I screamed, pushing him violently.

  He tried to catch himself but his ankle betrayed him and he fell heavily to the ground. He sat there, not looking at me. Then he folded his arms across his knees and laid his head on them. ‘And I am his father,’ he said, and I saw he was crying.

  My anger faded and left me ashamed. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said.

  ‘Leave me alone,’ he said, his voice raw.

  I left him alone for a week. I packed my things and moved into Sharwah’s house with Paul. I slept in a hammock in the main room. Chiron cuddled with me. Paul slept in his own hammock near the hearth.

  Ten times each day I nearly swallowed my pride and went to the tent to see Alexander. Each time my pride reared its ugly head and convinced me to wait. If he wanted to see me, he should be the one to come to the house. Why didn’t he make the slightest effort to see his own son?

  I wanted to be with Paul, to make up for the years I’d searched for him, for all the times I didn’t know if he was alive or dead.

  He was a docile child with a sunny smile and easy laughter. His travels hadn’t affected him in any way I could see. He adored Maia, the Sogdian woman. It was towards her he turned when he was sleepy or sad. I knew it would take time, but in the end he would accept me as his mother.

  Maia left us alone during the day, but she was always nearby. I could sense her presence. It made me cross. If Paul fell down and started to cry, she was there. When he was hungry, she brought him food. I thought it would be easier to get to know Paul if she wasn’t around, but I didn’t want to hurt her feelings. She obviously adored Paul. Her face lit up whenever he was with her. I frowned. It would never do; Paul had a father and a mother now. Maia would have to step aside.

  When I next saw Alexander he was walking with a crutch.

  He came to the house, limping, looking like a refugee from a prison camp. He was too thin. His hair was too long, and Axiom hadn’t brushed it that morning, or he had, and Alexander had stuck his head in a briar bush. His face was too gaunt. His eyes had lost their sparkle. He stopped by the gate and leaned on his crutch. Sweat stood out on his brow, and he was breathing heavily. My eyes filled with tears making him look indistinct.

  I blinked and the illusion shattered. It wasn’t just the tears blurring my vision that made him look bad, he was ill.

  I stood up, Paul’s toy horse falling from my hands. ‘Alex!’ I cried, and ran to him. He held his arms out and I flew into them. I put my head on his shoulder. His breath was short. ‘What is it?’ I asked him.

  ‘I was unwell. Usse kept me in bed nearly all week.’ His voice was soft. ‘I kept hoping you would come and visit me.’

  I couldn’t look at him. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said to the back of his head. ‘I’m a terrible person. I thought, well, I thought you were angry with me and it made me sulk. I was acting like a spoiled brat. I’m sorry.’

  ‘I know you are.’ He sighed, his ribs moving under my hands. ‘Craterus came back. He has news. We will leave in six weeks. First we go to the town, then to the mountain.’

  ‘Will it be very dangerous?’ I asked.

  ‘So much pain in your voice.’ He tilted his head. ‘Did you miss me?’

  I smiled through my tears. Only three more years. How could I ever tell him that? My tears fell faster, I couldn’t stop them. I tried to speak but only sobs came out. I buried my face in his thin shoulder and cried.

  ‘Well, that can mean two things,’ said Alexander, tipping his head back. ‘Yes, you missed me, or I need a shower and you’re going to give me one right here.’

  I giggled and sniffed. ‘You’re not supposed to make me laugh, that’s Plexis’s job,’ I told him, wiping my wet face with the back of my hands.

  ‘He’s not here right now. I’ll have to do it for him. I do need a shower. Will you wash me? I still don’t feel very well.’

  I helped him to the bathhouse. It meant turning around and walking back to the lake. By the time we got there I was practically carrying him. The long walk had tired his leg, and his crutch didn’t help.

  There was a cauldron of hot water on the fire and about twelve soldiers washing themselves. Or each other. Those Greeks! I cleared my throat and cleared a space for Alexander.

  The lye soap was strong stuff made by the villagers. It stung the eyes and I didn’t wash with it. The men used it though, carefully. I preferred the soft clay. It cleansed well and smelled good, thanks to the herbs Usse put in it. I smoothed it over Alexander’s body, rubbing it in like a massage. Then he sat in a tub while I poured hot water over him. His hair was dirty so I washed that for him too, putting sweet oil in it then using the clay to clean it.

  What I would have given for a real shampoo! I had tried everything, believe me. I tried using egg whites, egg yolks, tree bark, soured cream, fruit juice, lemon juice, vinegar, wine, ground-up chalk, you name it. Nothing really worked. I had finally come to accept that I could never get soft, shiny hair again. It was either soft and sort of oily, or shiny and dry. The best I could do was keep my scalp clean.

  Alexander leaned back while I washed his hair. His face was drawn. I wished I could say something to make him feel better.

  He turned and looked at me. He always seemed to know what I was thinking. His voice when he spoke was low. ‘It’s not your fault. It’s only me. I get this way sometimes. When it strikes, I’m helpless. I feel as if the world is a dark place and the sun is cold. Usse knows how to treat this melancholy. When I’m like this, nothing seems right. Sometimes I feel that death is preferable to the confusion in my head. It is a sickness, Usse told me, and I must wait until it passes.’

  ‘That’s why you stayed away so
long.’

  ‘Mostly. That and pride. And pain. But then the darkness lifted and I saw that we were still together.’

  ‘Together, you and I.’

  ‘I’m sorry about Paul. We will go see Sharwah and ask if there is anything to be done. I will try and see things from your point of view. You don’t believe in our prophecies, so perhaps they cannot touch you.’

  I remembered the one I’d read in the back room and shuddered. ‘No. I have had time to think. I cannot be selfish about a human being. Paul has the right to be happy. I think that in this valley he will have a good life.’ My voice shook and tears threatened, but didn’t spill.

  ‘Oh, Ashley. I’m sorry, sorrier than I can ever say. He’s a beautiful child, but I can see he is too pure for the outside world. This is truly the Valley of the Gods. He will be surrounded by love. The people here will all adore him. We’ve made the right decision.’

  ‘I spent a week with our son and you haven’t seen him at all. Why don’t you go back to the tent to rest. I’ll bring him to you.’

  ‘I accept.’ He leaned back in the tub and closed his eyes. He looked so frail. I hoped Usse had some good remedies.

  That evening I took Paul to the tent to see his father. When Maia made to follow us I told her to stay in the house and wait. The look she gave me made me feel like I’d kicked a puppy, but I didn’t relent.

  All the way to the tent I wondered at Alexander’s words. Too pure for the outside world? I looked at Paul. He trusted everyone. He went with me as easily as he went with anyone else. He adored Maia, his nurse, but he happily left her to accompany me or one of the other villagers. He would often wander, slipping away quietly and unnoticed, only to be found watching the soldiers or in one of the houses or gardens talking to anyone he met. He was not shy and trusted everyone. His eyes were wide and guileless. He was not quite five but he spoke two languages clearly. He did seem unworldly, like a fairy child or an elf.

  Chapter Six

  Alexander had slept all afternoon and looked better. A cold breeze chilled the air, so the tent flap stayed closed. The light was lit, the braziers glowing, and Axiom had prepared a thick lentil soup. We ate in silence. Paul fidgeted, looking all around the tent. He’s searching for Maia, I thought jealously. But no, a soft humming made him look around. It was my necklace. Ever since Paul had made it sing, I’d kept it in a small sandalwood box. Now, his very presence was making it hum.