When it was dark, I went back to the temple. Nabonida had given me her robe, so I put it on and slipped inside unnoticed. Everything was still chaotic. Guards had started to search the people leaving the city. Even in the temple people were being checked. I was glad of the robe: no one stopped me. Once in Nabonida’s room I took it off. Then I went to the window and sat down to wait for Alexander.
I must have dozed off, because all at once, his arms were around me and his face was next to mine. His eyes were tender, his mouth even more so. I held on to his shoulders and he lifted me up and laid me on the bed. We made love with a fierce urgency. I wrapped my legs around his hips and met each thrust with a cry. I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed him; how much I needed him until then. He bucked against me and then shuddered into me with a harsh groan. I held him within me and let my own orgasm sweep me away.
Afterwards, I watched his face as he slept. The moonlight cast deep shadows under his brows and his lashes swept his cheeks. He slept for perhaps an hour, while I looked on, jealously guarding his slumber. Then his eyes opened. He woke up, instantly alert. I felt a jolt of electricity and marvelled again at the incredible energy that he possessed. He kissed me, tenderly, and we dressed and left the temple. We hadn’t spoken a word to each other. After a year of silence I’d gotten out of the habit of talking, and Alexander communicated with his eyes and his gestures better than any mime or actor. He used this talent to communicate with his soldiers from half a mile away, or through the babble of a banquet, or silently, just with me.
I wanted to say goodbye to Nabonida, but she was nowhere to be found. I never saw her again.
* * *
We left the city in disguise. Just outside the temple, Lysimachus was waiting with a camel laden with bundles of raw wool. Alexander, Lysimachus and I donned Arab robes, and I hid my face behind a veil, Arab-style. The guards searched us, looking for a blonde woman with a small baby. But I wore a wig of black hair that Lysimachus had procured for me, and no child was with us.
We left the city and went along the trading route, but once we’d gone five miles and were out of sight of the city, we cut across the fields. We changed our clothes along the way. Alexander became himself again, as did Lysimachus. I kept the black wig on and became a slave girl leading a pack-camel into Alexander’s army encampment.
He had already given the order to move, and so, beneath the full moon, the army got under way. We moved quickly this time. Alexander was on his way to Persepolis, and it was a thousand kilometres away.
It took the army roughly a month. I lost track of time. Alexander’s army, which was one of the most rapid ever known, moved more than fifty kilometres a day. He drove them ruthlessly; he drove them like I’d driven the ponies. We marched until we fell to our knees. We ate while we were marching and slept wrapped in our cloaks where we’d fallen. We hiked across plains, waded through marshes, crossed the Tigris River, and then we came to Susa. By then, we were exhausted. I don’t recall much about the march until then. I was heartsick about my baby, and Alexander had much to do convincing his generals that the march to Persepolis was vital. The soldiers had been fighting and marching for over two years, and they needed a rest. But we couldn’t stay long. In order to appease his men, Alexander decided to throw a party.
To reward his troops and to consolidate his victory over Babylon, Alexander decided to marry one thousand of his soldiers to Persian women. The wedding took place in Susa for two reasons: because we were halfway to Persepolis, and because the army was weak with exhaustion. Some of the soldiers had come down with malaria.
Alexander would have preferred crossing the swamps in winter, when there was less chance of sickness. We had left during a hot spell, a freak of the weather, and the swamps had been full of swarming mosquitoes.
Of course, they didn’t know mosquitoes carried disease, but I did. The soldiers picked the lemon grass called citronella and rubbed it on their bodies. The sharp, citrus smell kept the mosquitoes at bay, and most of the army stayed healthy.
At Susa, we camped outside the city while Alexander organized the huge wedding. He ordered fifty cows and one hundred sheep to be slaughtered. Fires were lit before dawn, and the animals were blessed by the priests, slaughtered, and then cooked. The smell of roasting meat hung over the city, and the aroma raised the soldiers’ spirits. Meat was a luxury at that time.
Although I was anxious to get moving again and catch Darius, I was happy to rest and took the time to seek out Nassar for a chat. Alexander was gone from before dawn until night, and I didn’t get a moment alone with him. He had his tent set up in a vain effort to get some privacy, but all day a long line of people waited to see him – priests, satraps, magistrates, lawyers, merchants, and fathers of the girls to be wed to his soldiers.
Nassar was busy writing out marriage contracts, which was something rare, but Alexander had insisted. Fifty scribes worked unceasingly. They sat in a huge circle on reed mats. Slaves darted in and out, rolling up parchments, sealing them, and putting them in wicker baskets. Other slaves fanned the scribes to keep flies away, or gave them drinks of water. I watched them for a while, but the heat was making me wilt, so I walked back to Alexander’s tent, determined to get some needed rest.
Lysimachus was in charge of taking the names of all the people waiting to see Alexander. I was pleased to see Seleucos, my guide, helping him keep order. He saw me and nodded with deference. I didn’t have to be shown in. The people parted as I arrived, most of them prostrating themselves, murmuring prayers. I was startled, until I remembered that they thought I was Demeter’s daughter and therefore a goddess. I blushed and tried to look worthy of their attention, and then I ducked inside. The tent was cool and dark. Alexander was sitting behind his table with the beautiful glass lamp hanging over his head. It cast a wavering, blue-green light, making his face look as if he were underwater.
He looked up at me. He was immobile, and yet I had the impression I could feel his energy. His fey eyes glittered.
‘I just want to lie down and sleep,’ I said. ‘I won’t bother you.’
‘We haven’t had time to talk,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘We will, when we get to Persepolis,’ I said, crawling into the soft bed and cuddling with the cushions. I was asleep before I heard his reply.
I woke up much later. The sun was nearing the horizon and I could see a bright red glow outside. The tent flap was up, letting in fresh air. There were no more people standing in line, and I realized I’d woken because the constant noise was gone. Everyone had spoken quietly, and the soft murmuring had lulled me to sleep. Now there were only two people talking. And one of them smelled foul. I opened my eyes and peered over to the other side of the tent.
Alexander was leaning over his table talking earnestly to a man dressed in a long white robe. The man had a beard, which wasn’t considered chic then. He was elderly, and like most old people, didn’t care about fashion. Or bathing, obviously. I wrinkled my nose.
He and Alexander stopped talking for a moment and then the man reached forward and moved something on the table. Alexander sat back and narrowed his eyes, and I realized they were playing chess. The old man chuckled and rubbed his hands together until Alexander leaned over and, with a decisive movement, swept the board clean with his arm.
‘Oh, Iskander,’ said the man in a stern voice. ‘When will you ever learn to lose gracefully? You must learn this lesson!’
‘I will not!’ Alexander’s eyes blazed.
Anyone else would have cowered, but the old man with the beard simply said, ‘Tush!’ and rapped his knuckles sharply on the now empty board. ‘Iskander, stop acting like a spoiled brat.’
I sat up. I couldn’t believe what I’d heard. ‘Who are you?’ I asked, before I realized how rude I sounded. I rubbed my eyes. ‘Excuse me, I meant to say hello.’
‘Isn’t she lovely?’ Alexander forgot his bad temper and came over, sitting on the bed next to me. ‘I rescued her from Hades, and then my
mother kidnapped her.’
The old man winced. ‘Olympias always was a silly bitch. I’m pleased to meet you, my dear. I’m Aristotle. I came to Susa a month ago on business, and I had no idea my star pupil was dragging his entire army along behind me.’
‘We’re not following you,’ Alexander said, ‘I told you, we’re pursuing Darius. He’s got my son.’
‘Well, Darius always was a hot-headed fool.’
I blinked. Hot-headed fool? A silly bitch? This was the world’s greatest philosopher? I liked him already. ‘My name’s Ashley,’ I said, getting up to greet him politely. ‘I’m honoured to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you.’
His shrewd eyes twinkled. ‘Oh? Have you? If Iskander told you about me, it certainly wasn’t flattering.’
‘Oh no, the only thing Iskander told me about you was that you hit him on the head with a big stick.’
‘Well, that’s all right, then. That’s exactly what did happen. He was always touchy and he’d scream himself hoarse if he lost a game. I tried to teach him to lose with dignity, but as you can see, nothing I told him has sunk in. He’s still as impossible as he was when his father brought him to me.’
Alexander scowled. ‘The other boys called me a barbarian.’
‘And you were, you were!’ Aristotle laughed. ‘But, dear boy, to Greeks, all non-Greeks are barbarians! You mustn’t be so thin-skinned. You’ve done a marvellous job with your country, and with the army! You should be proud of yourself.’
Alexander beamed. ‘Thank you, Master, I am. And I mean to do more. Your ideas about government – I mean to spread them all over Persia. Imagine! When Macedonia, Egypt, Greece, and Persia are all united under my rule, it will be the biggest democracy the world has ever seen. Why, Ashley, what’s the matter. Are you choking?’
I fell off the bed and laughed until tears ran down my face. When I finally stopped, Alexander looked at me in consternation.
‘Are you better now?’ Aristotle’s mouth twitched, and I wondered if he felt like laughing.
‘I’m fine, really.’ I wiped away my tears and composed my face. ‘It was nothing. A little giggle, that’s all.’ I bit my lip and buried my head in the pillow, my shoulders shaking. I couldn’t help it. The laughter had eased the knots somewhat in my belly. I’d needed a good laugh, after the months of mourning and fretting over my baby. We were going to get him, though. I found myself starting to hope again.
Aristotle turned back to Alexander. ‘I do think your idea to marry your soldiers to local girls is a good one. Although it goes against my ideas about marriage. You know how I feel about that.’
‘Yes, but the soldiers I picked are all in their thirties and the girls are unmarried, so it should work out. They’ll either stay in this region and settle, or they will go back to Greece or Macedonia.’ Alexander ran a hand through his hair, making it stand on end. ‘I’m tired, old man, why don’t you let me sleep an hour, and we’ll talk during the banquet tonight.’
‘Very well, Iskander. I’ll leave you two alone. Where’s Chirpa, the slave girl I gave you?’
‘I left her with Stateira, in Babylon. She will need her more than I do now. Stateira is pregnant, and the oracle said the babe was a boy. I’ve already named him after myself. Olympias wanted to stay and help Stateira rule Babylon, as you can imagine, but I sent her packing. She put up a fuss when I ordered her back to Macedonia.’
I was startled. ‘You didn’t tell her to go to Epirus?’
‘I did, but she refused. Epirus is a small kingdom, full of barbarians. She went to Macedonia, but I’m having her watched. Never fear. I sent word to Nike that Mother was to be imprisoned when she arrives.’
‘Will your sister do that?’ I asked, worried.
‘No, probably not, but her husband will. He doesn’t trust Mother at all. He’ll make sure she never leaves the palace.’
Aristotle shook his head. ‘Your mother has longer arms than you think. Beware treachery. You should have had her killed, Iskander. She’s a menace.’
‘I couldn’t. The gods were against the idea.’ He looked at me gravely. ‘Besides, I don’t kill people in cold blood, and I don’t destroy cities.’
Aristotle looked at him solemnly. ‘You killed Cxious, Plexis’s brother.’
Alexander met his gaze, although two bright red spots appeared on his cheeks. ‘I lost my temper,’ he said quietly. It was when his voice went quiet that I shivered.
Aristotle just puffed out his cheeks and blew a raspberry. ‘Your problem, my boy, is threefold: you’ve always been in love with your treacherous mother, you can’t control your temper, and you hate to lose.’ Beside me, I could feel Alexander swelling like a storm cloud.
‘No, Iskander!’ Aristotle’s voice, I realized, could be just as powerful as Alexander’s. ‘You will not throw away your future because you cannot control yourself. Remember, don’t make vain promises, don’t speak empty words, and damn it, boy! Control that TEMPER!’ He shouted the last word at us, and then, remarkably, started laughing and walked out of the tent.
Alexander recovered neatly. ‘Go and take a bath before the ceremony, you old goat,’ he yelled after him. ‘You smell like you’re wearing a stinky cheese around your neck!’
Aristotle poked his head back in the tent, his eyes bright. ‘What do you think I’ve been living on all these months while travelling?’ he asked. ‘It’s very good cheese; the barbarians from Gaul make it. It’s called Camembertus, or something like that. And believe me, it keeps the mosquitoes away.’ He grinned before he left.
‘But it attracts flies,’ muttered Alexander to the empty doorway. ‘Why does he always get the last word?’
I pulled him down on top of me. ‘Does it really matter who gets the last word?’ I asked, nibbling on his earlobe. Then I remembered something Alexander had said. ‘Stateira’s pregnant?’ I asked. ‘How do you know?’ Although jealousy pricked me sharply, I knew I couldn’t interfere with his life. According to history books, he would have at least two legitimate sons, but they would both be murdered at an early age. Along with jealousy, I felt fierce pity.
Alexander caressed my back. ‘The oracle said she would bear a son. We went to see the priestess right after the wedding ceremony, before we went to Marduk’s temple.’ He chuckled and nipped my shoulder. ‘That was quite some trick you played at the temple. I left before the end; I wanted to get out of the crowd. Stateira came back to the palace with Mother, and they were so angry that they each flogged two slaves. Stateira has a terrible temper, I hope she learns to control it.’ He spoke seriously.
I stroked his face. ‘Alex,’ I said. ‘If I ask a favour, will you grant it?’
‘Anything,’ he said.
‘When we find our baby, will you promise not to proclaim him your son?’
He was startled. ‘Why? Don’t you want him to rule?’
‘We’ll see afterwards.’
‘After what?’
‘Just promise me you’ll wait.’ I was still terrified the Time Senders would find out I married Alexander and had a son. If that ever happened, we’d both be erased. My panic must have showed, because he stroked my shoulders softly.
‘Don’t look so frightened. I promise I’ll wait.’ he looked dubious. ‘You know, I’m terribly proud. I can’t wait to see him. My first son!’ He grabbed my arms and rolled over on me, his expression hard. Then his eyes softened, and he kissed me gently. ‘I’ll do as you wish, my Ice Queen. I nearly went mad when you disappeared. And that stupid Plexis, telling me that Hades had come back to get you. I nearly believed him. I suppose it was better than believing you’d been eaten by crocodiles. Lysimachus found the tracks, but he said they looked odd. I missed you so much. The weeks and months went by, and still I missed you. I missed you, and I’ve never felt that for anyone before. Not even my father, although I admired him. And now our baby is gone. We have to get him back. By your mother, Demeter, I swear I’ll find him.’ His voice broke. We made love slowly, gently, while he cried, h
is tears wetting my cheeks and neck.
When he fell asleep his face relaxed and lost its fierceness. His eyelids were lavender, and the skin over his cheekbones was translucent with fatigue. I wondered how he would convince his army to follow him to India after promising them a home here, in Persia. I lay still beside my sleeping lover and counted the years. It was the year 331 BC. In two months it would be 330 BC. Alexander’s army took four years to march across the Middle East to the gates of Asia. He defeated the Indian army, but then he stopped at the banks of the Indus. It would take two years to get back to Babylon.
I brushed a strand of bright copper off his face and noticed his hair was made up of many colours; deep glossy brown, copper, glittering bronze, even gold. It was wavy and thick, growing in small curls on his temples and on the back of his neck. His sideburns were long, making his face appear narrower than it was. His chin was square and strong, his forehead wide. He got his pure brow and his long, Byzantine eyes from his mother. His colouring was his own, though, warm and vibrant, not the pale coldness of Olympias.
I closed my eyes. Seven more years of hard travel, then back to Babylon where Alexander would die. I shivered as if a wintry chill had touched my skin. He would die in Babylon, and his empire would be fought over like a piece of meat by a pack of hungry dogs. His wives and sons would be murdered, and his tomb lost for all time. But his name and his exploits would inspire men for thousands of years.
Why was I thinking of death? The delicate lamp swung ever so slightly in the breeze, and the flickering blue light made the inside of the tent seem unearthly. Shadows reared and subsided, the gold tips of the pens glittered, and the parchment rustled on the table. A cricket chirped, and the sun dipped below the horizon. Then the trumpets sounded, calling the men to the banquet and wedding ceremony.
The Road to Alexander Page 12
