Elephants and Castles

by Alfred Duggan

  ‘The kingdom came by accident and it has gone by accident,’ said Phila calmly. ‘Who is now the King of the Macedonians?’

  ‘Lysimachus, I believe. But Pyrrhus has taken over all the western part of the country. In reality they share it between them.’

  ‘Will they pursue you here?’

  ‘I don’t know. But anyway I shan’t stay here. I shall move on to Hellas, and collect my scattered garrisons. Mercenaries will follow me, even though my subjects won’t. The war isn’t over yet. But I wonder what went wrong? Why did they choose me and then abandon me?’

  Phila straightened herself, hands on knees and head erect, until she looked like the seated image of the Mother. Her voice was firm and clear but there was nothing emotional in it, no tricks of rhetoric. She was saying what she had long thought, but she was not trying to persuade.

  ‘They can’t stand you because you are not a Macedonian. What are you, Demetrius? Born in Macedonia, brought up in Asia, ruler of Tyre and Sidon, Saviour God of Athens - you are neither a true Hellene nor a true barbarian. Have you a fatherland? Is there an altar you hold precious? Do you serve anything bigger than yourself? You seem as rootless, as strange to the world as it is, as if you had just appeared like Aphrodite from the foam.’

  ‘But that’s what I am, my dear. Didn’t you know?’ Demetrius seemed genuinely surprised. ‘I am the new man, the man of Alexander’s new empire. My world began thirty-five years ago, when the conqueror died in Babylon. I am bound by nothing that happened earlier. I have no ancestral tombs. Enemies buried my father on the field where he fell. I have never seen my grandfather’s tomb, and I’m not sure where it is. My own corpse will lie under some eternal monument, or be shovelled into a trench with the rest of the slain, depending on how my last battle goes. No altar is precious to me. I have watched the dedication of altars to my own divinity, and later heard that they had been overthrown. I could not avenge the insult. Can Zeus avenge an insult to his altars? There are no gods. There are no fatherlands. There are no laws of right and wrong. The world is governed by one single truth - that when danger threatens some men draw their swords and other men run away. I am a warrior. What distinguishes me from a wolf is that I can think as well as fight. I am not handicapped by hereditary rules of conduct, by fear of what great-grandad would say if he were still alive. I am the master of my own life, until some stronger sword strikes me down.’

  This speech gave him great satisfaction. At the end of it he felt filled with heroic resolution, ready to plan the next move in the war.

  ‘Thank you for explaining so clearly, husband,’ said Phila, still in her flat, controlled, expressionless voice. ‘It was foolish of me not to recognise your quality long ago. You are, as you so proudly claim, a thinking wolf - not at the moment a very successful wolf. Would you call Pyrrhus and Lysimachus rival wolves, or sheepdogs guarding Hellas from your ravages? It doesn’t matter.’

  She sighed, and spoke again.

  ‘I am just ten years older than you, but we live in different aeons. Macedonia is my fatherland. I owe reverence and sacrifice to the gods, and obedience to the ancient royal house which ruled my ancestors. I am a lady of gentle birth, mother of a Macedonian gentleman. So many obligations! Sometimes I neglect them, naturally. It seems odd that you never knew my father, while I recall him so vividly. Antipater the Regent - all over Hellas and Macedonia his reign is remembered as the Good Old Days. He might have made himself a king, perhaps even a Saviour God. But he served the king who had appointed him, and after Alexander was dead he served Macedonia. Well, I am glad we had this out. Don’t think I am cross with you. The parents of Prince Antigonus must not quarrel; it would upset him, and he’s an honourable young man. I expect you want to see the treasurer. You can’t make plans without him, can you? Shall I send him along? I am going to lie down in my room.’

  When the treasurer arrived with his clerks Demetrius ordered the door to be barred. For several hours he went through lists of troops and money, reports on the strength of walled cities, rolls of ships in his fleet, estimates of com and salt meat in his magazines By concentrating his garrisons in Hellas he could still muster a respectable army, and yet leave young Antigonus something to fight with in Europe. When he finished, it was sunset. The clerks withdrew to make out his route-tables, while he went a little reluctantly to the women’s quarters. Phila had been upset when she left him, but he could always talk her round.

  Before he reached the omen’s quarters he heard wailing. Her maids were mourning Queen Phila, lying dead in her bed beside an empty phial of poison.

  16. ASIA INVADED

  In Miletus they had grown used to changing sides. There was nothing to be gained by fighting for one king against his rivals. Any citizen with a taste for warfare ought to take employment as a mercenary, not offer to defend his city against an invading army. So when the fleet of the famous Poliorcetes was reported off the harbour the city councillors went down to the quay to welcome him.

  There was a danger that the city might be sacked, even though they offered no resistance. Once again Poliorcetes was a Sea-King, at the head of a great armament but a fugitive from his own dominions. He must have money to pay his mercenaries. To lessen the risk the councillors brought with them the most distinguished residents in their city, the ex-Queen of Egypt and her daughter. Queen Eurydice was related to the invader, and anyway all these kings hung together against ordinary tax-paying Hellenes.

  As Demetrius stepped ashore maidens threw flowers before his feet and a handsome youth presented him with a wreath of conqueror’s laurel. The chief magistrate offered the key of the citadel, nestling on a purse filled with gold darics. When the mighty conqueror had accepted these tributes with a gracious smile it was time to push forward the ladies.

  Demetrius started; it seemed that Phila stood before him. Of course - this Eurydice, Pharaoh’s cast-off Queen, was Phila’s younger sister. The grave Macedonian lady bowed to kiss his hand, greeting him as ‘brother’. This was splendid. Miletus was his.

  Then Queen Eurydice presented her daughter. Young Ptolemais was a strapping wench, not so young on close inspection; say in her middle twenties. Her blonde Macedonian skin had been reddened by African sun. She made to kneel at his feet, though he had the presence of mind to prevent her. Here were old-fashioned manners with a vengeance; for twenty years he hadn’t seen a lady do that. ‘Welcome, husband,’ she said with a languishing smile.

  ‘What’s that?’ he exclaimed in confusion. ‘I didn’t know I had a wife in Miletus. I’m very glad to have one, of course. You must both of you dine on my flagship. And you gentlemen also,’ he added to the councillors. ‘Wait a minute while I see my garrison safely ashore, and then we’ll discuss the future in private on Demetrias’

  So many people dined on the poop that there was no room for couches; all must sit on chairs, as though they were women. The city councillors were ill at ease. Queen Eurydice, royally gracious, took charge of the situation.

  ‘What a wonderful floating palace! I have heard tell of it, who hasn’t? But I thought the description must be exaggerated. Is there really room for sixteen rowers at each oar? And yet in a sense this has been my home for many years. When my wicked husband turns me out, my natural refuge is the palace of my son-in-law. Can we have the wedding-feast tonight, or do you need a few days to arrange it?’

  ‘Perhaps tomorrow, madam. After dinner I must go ashore to billet my troops and discuss the government of the city with these councillors.’ Demetrius was playing for time, puzzled at the new development. Sailors might have a wife in every port, but as that true of Sea-Kings? Suddenly it all fell into place. Twelve years ago, when poor Stratonice was married to Seleucus, his new son-in-law had tried to make a general peace by linking together all the kings in marriage. It had been suggested that Demetrius should marry Ptolemais, the daughter of Ptolemy and Eurydice his Queen. Demetrius had agreed to the betrothal, without ever intending to carry it further.

  Now circumstanc
es were changed. He was a lonely widower, and Eurydice as no longer Queen in Alexandria; her own niece Berenice had supplanted her. But Ptolemais remained Pharaoh’s legitimate daughter. It would be a smack in the eye for the old rascal to marry his daughter while making war on him. Ptolemais herself looked attractive; and to marry a granddaughter of Antipater would renew the link with Macedonia broken by Phila’s death. Of course he would go through with this marriage. It might be useful as well as amusing.

  He turned to the chief magistrate. ‘Are supplies plentiful in the city? Tomorrow I want to give a really splendid feast. You know the kind of thing. Hecatombs of oxen and sheep, with the meat distributed among the poor. Fountains flowing with wine. Free bread. The streets illuminated. Perhaps a pardon for all prisoners in the city gaol. A good party that everyone will enjoy. The occasion for it is my marriage to the lady Ptolemais, my new Queen.’

  ‘The resources of Miletus can supply a mighty feast, my lord king,’ said the magistrate. ‘But one aspect of the matter is not clear to me. The butchers and vintners will expect to be paid. Will they be paid from your treasury, or by the city?’

  ‘From city funds, naturally.’ Demetrius smiled with an airy wave of the hand. ‘Sea-Kings can’t pay for lavish parties on land. Console yourself with this reflection, my dear friend. In any event I shall confiscate all the money in your treasury. What is spent on this splendid party is spent among the tradesmen of the city. The remainder goes to pay my soldiers and marines, and will therefore be lost to the Milesians.’

  ‘It will be a lavish feast, my lord. That brings me to another matter. For how long do you propose to honour us by staying here in Miletus?’

  ‘For this winter and no longer. As soon as the campaigning season opens I shall march inland. Don’t be too dismayed, my dear sir. Though Miletus will be my headquarters I don’t expect one city to support my army. Even during the winter I shall expand my dominions. Ionia is a wealthy part of the world.’

  The city councillors did their best to look cheerful.

  The wedding feast continued late, with course after course and toasts to the famous bridegroom. But at last Demetrius was alone with his bride. Oddly enough, he felt shy of this unknown woman. But that night everything passed off very well.

  The old Persian palace above the city had been made ready for the honeymoon. In the morning they breakfasted together in a little portico on the flat roof. Demetrius was feeling thoroughly pleased with himself. This attractive bride had been an unexpected bonus. But he was curious about unexpected gifts of Fortune.

  ‘My dear,’ he said with his mouth full of grapes, ‘I am the luckiest man alive. I am passionately devoted to you, but I am still a little surprised that your mother was so eager to hand you over. Our betrothal was arranged when the world looked very different, and I must confess that it had not always been in the forefront of my thoughts. Have you been waiting all these years for me to come and claim you?’

  Ptolemais thought before she answered; she was a calm and level-headed girl.

  ‘Yes and no is the right answer, as it is to most personal questions. Any engagement of the great Demetrius Poliorcetes is pretty widely known, and so long as I was contracted to you it would not have been easy for me to find another husband. Of course as time passed Mother and I grew worried. I might die a spinster. On my last birthday we talked it over. A Persian nobleman from upland Cappadocia had made a private approach - royal blood and wide estates and all the usual advantages. But I didn’t look forward to being penned in with eunuchs to guard me, and sharing my husband with a flock of concubines. We decided to wait for one more year. Mother said that by then Poliorcetes would have recovered from his misfortunes, or he would be dead. We knew that whatever happened you wouldn’t just dwindle into obscurity.’

  ‘And quite right, too,’ said Demetrius, highly delighted. ‘Hellas won’t be finished with me until my ashes are safely in their urn, and even then my funeral will be something to remember. Just at that moment I should look silly if I gave you the style of Queen of Macedonia. But today you are Queen of the Sea, and there’s a very good chance that you will soon be Queen of Asia.’

  ‘Are you still trying to conquer the world, with ten thousand wandering mercenaries?’

  ‘Eleven thousand to be exact. A thousand more than marched with Cyrus to Cunaxa and then came safely home in spite of all the might of Persia. It’s quite a reasonable idea, if you consider it calmly. I have been driven out of Macedonia, certainly; but Macedonia is a special case. The Macedonians grew tired of me, and their army is made up of native peasant pikemen. They are strong enough to choose their king, and to get rid of him if they wish. I have been thrown out of Attica also, but how did that come about? Because the Athenians admitted your father’s admiral to Piraeus. Even then I could have kept my garrison in the Acropolis, if I had not withdrawn it of my own free will. You see?’

  ‘I don’t see,’ said Ptolemais firmly. ‘You have ten thousand men and you talk of conquering kings whose armies are reckoned in myriads.’

  ‘Except for the special case of Macedonia they are myriads of mercenaries. That’s the point. I get on with mercenaries. They like me. Miletus surrendered as soon as my fleet arrived in the harbour. The other cities of Ionia will do the same. In all Hellas only Sparta and Macedonia are willing to defend themselves by their own efforts. In all Asia there isn’t a pity which will fight for its own freedom. Your father doesn’t enlist native Egyptians. He has too much sense. Like all the other kings he relies on Hellene mercenaries. When he leads them against me, as he will have to do one day, will they fight - or will they join my army? Why should they die for him? They want to be paid for their soldiering, and they want to finish on the winning side. I shall offer them more pay and a better chance of plunder. All I must do is show them that I am an invincible commander. That’s what I shall do. Your father may be the Pharaoh, who teaches the Nile to rise and the barley to grow. But I am the Saviour God of Athens, the Victor of Salamis, the King of the Sea, the Besieger of Cities. If you were a wandering pikeman, earning a living by your martial appearance but anxious to die of old age, whose side would you choose?’

  ‘Let’s leave Father out of it,’ Ptolemais answered. ‘He treated Mother badly, and I suppose I am on her side; but I don’t like to think of him driven from Alexandria by my husband. How will you cope with Lysimachus, who must now be getting ready to march against you? Or with Seleucus who once defeated King Porus and his elephants?’

  ‘In exactly the same way. Why should anyone fight for them? Lysimachus keeps open house for matricides. As for Seleucus, he was a good soldier - more than thirty years ago. Besides, he is married to my daughter, or his son is. He hates Lysimachus. Very probably he will help me to beat him.’

  Demetrius strode about the little portico, excited by a vision of his own approaching glory.

  ‘It wasn’t the Macedonians who overcame Persia. It was one man, King Alexander. It wasn’t the Epirots who drove me from Hellas. It was one man, King Pyrrhus. Kingdoms don’t matter anymore, cities don’t matter anymore. There are no more fatherlands. A single man can rule all the other men in the world. Perhaps I shall be that man.’

  ‘It’s worth trying, anyway,’ said Ptolemais, who was young enough to be inspired by rhetoric. ‘When shall we start?’

  ‘In the spring, my dear. It will mean years of hard work, long marches and uncomfortable bivouacs. So for this winter we shall enjoy ourselves,’

  Miletus was a wealthy and luxurious city, and the widening of the world since Alexander marched to India had brought prosperity. Even though the citizens must support a wandering horde of mercenaries there was still abundance of wine and food and rich clothes. In the great theatre, in the famous temples, in the tall palace on the citadel, Demetrius and his new Queen feasted royally. There were no scandalous debauches, no suppers like those Lamia had arranged in the old days; the presence of a royal mother-in-law enforced decorum. But Eurydice could organise a splendid court
as well as poor Phila, her sister. It was a very pleasant winter, and by no means a waste of time and money. The loyalty of the mercenaries was confirmed as they saw the homeless fugitive whom they had followed from Hellas blossoming into a mighty king.

  Seleucus made no move, either to help or to hinder. His frontier remained open to traders from the west and he did not increase his army. The Tyrians, loyal to their Sea-King in all his ups and downs, knew what passed in the new city of Antioch; they reported that envoys had come from Lysimachus, proposing a combined advance on Miletus from east and west, and that the King of the East had refused the proposal. He would not be sorry to see the power of Lysimachus diminished.

  Nobody liked Lysimachus, not even his own followers. His policy of keeping at his court every fugitive who had a claim to a foreign throne made him unpopular with the other kings. Since these fugitives enjoyed lavish pensions the officers of his army grumbled, seeing money wasted in political intrigue that might otherwise have gone to successful generals. Even during the winter, before the war had opened, his soldiers began to desert him.

  The garrisons of several Ionian cities declared for Demetrius. The Ionians themselves valued the friendship of the Sea-King, who could safeguard their overseas trade. They were tired of a ruler who made his home in barbarous Thrace. Citizens and soldiers changed sides unanimously.

  The Asiatic headquarters of Lysimachus was Sardis; a populous town which had never been a free Hellene city, a strong fortress with a numerous garrison. The taxes of Asia were lodged there until they could be ferried in calm weather to Europe. The garrison, chosen for its loyalty, would not listen to suggestions that all true Hellenes should support Demetrius. But before winter was ended engineers appeared before the place and began to fell timber for siege engines. Rather than face the City Takers designed by the great Poliorcetes the loyal soldiers of Lysimachus surrendered.