"What a lovely woman you are," Myrtle said as she was presented to the wary concubine.
"As are you, Queen Myrtle," Philinna replied fearfully. She had heard of Myrtle's feelings toward her and was guarding her words.
"I came to visit, Philinna. I would like to meet your son, Aridaios. I understand that he's a year old."
"He is, my queen. He's of strong body, but shows early signs of having a weak mind. I fear that he will be retarded when he is grown."
"Have your slave bring him to me. I wish to hold him."
Growing more concerned, Philinna directed her slave nurse to fetch the baby. When Aridaios was brought in, Myrtle put herself between the nurse and the baby's mother. She grabbed the infant and held him close to her neck and bosom.
"A precious child. Philinna, I want to do you a favor. Epirotes know of secret milk additives that will cure your son's backwardness. I know you don't nurse him, I can tell that by looking at the size of your slave's breasts. If you agree, I'll arrange for one of my priests to bring the potion to you daily. Give the child a few drops of the yellow liquid after he suckles. It sometimes takes several months, but the results are dramatic and permanent."
Philinna, who wasn’t bright after eating and drinking from lead plates and cups when she grew up in Larissa, considered the queen's offer. Although she wasn't sure why, she feared Myrtle. But the queen's suggestion was as much a command as an offer. She had to accept. "That's a kind thing to do, my queen. Please arrange for your priest to come to me and I will save my baby. He will thank you when he grows into a normal man."
The two women then arranged for a boat ride on Lake Loudias. As the small talk proceeded, Myrtle experienced a profound inner peace and smug self-satisfaction. While still a young princess in Passaron, she had seen the effects of the baby potion on an unwanted male rival to the Molossian throne. When the boy reached ten, the poison's chemistry manifested itself. He lost much of his bowel and bladder control and could be seen drooling at the mouth constantly.
The fetus that grew inside her body was safe for his entry into a troubled Macedonian court. It would not be the last time Myrtle protected her son's vital interests.
Before they parted, Philinna was given a simple message: either produce female children or eliminate any future male offspring that might find its way into her womb. She was further informed that the queen had planted spies in her household staff. The birth of any child would be reported to her, she told the intimidated concubine. Even dull Philinna understood the implications of what she was being told.
Soon after this visit, Myrtle went to see the daughter that Philip had sired by his deceased concubine, Audata, later named Eurydice. Philip had renamed the little girl Eurydice, just as he had renamed her mother before she died in childbirth. Queen Myrtle had a pleasant visit with the child. When she was satisfied that she posed no threat to her son-to-be, she told the child's nurse to give her the best possible care. It was also made clear that the nurse was to keep her away from King Philip and the court. When she became a teenager, she would be married off to a provincial baron, far from Pella's seat of power.
Myrtle marked the end of her first six weeks as queen and she began to notice subtle changes in her body. Foods that were once her favorite now repulsed her. More importantly, she started having morning bouts of nausea and vomiting. She knew what the signs meant. Although they were uncomfortable, a feeling of satisfaction that her life plan was proceeding on schedule filled her being. She waited several more weeks and then sought the opinions of two court physicians before telling anyone of her condition. She wanted to impress the king with the good news when he was taking Amphipolis. Already, she understood Philip's intense superstition about natural events. She was positive that he would interpret a birth announcement concurrent with his greatest military victory as an unmistakable message from the gods. Biology was one thing; inspired planning and timing were still another.
CHAPTER 13
Amphipolis, the mighty fortress on the banks of the Strymon River, stood proud but apprehensive as the Macedonian army encircled it with reinforcements. Its defenders saw every Macedonian move from the city's high walls, but its leaders felt secure in the knowledge that their walls had never been breached.
That was about to change. Philip's entire hoard of gold and silver was delivered to him at his encampment outside Amphipolis. Sent with the shipment was a communication from his royal treasurer, warning him of the dire consequences of his foolhardy action. The treasurer wrote that the Macedonian economy would collapse in a matter of weeks without payment of the home army and the merchants who supplied it.
Philip wrote back and told the treasurer to develop the backbone of a man and not a eunuch. He was warned that if he couldn't arrange credit, he would be replaced. Philip felt this settled the matter, but knew that the treasurer was right. The always-chaotic Macedonian economy would return to its live-for-the-day operation when Amphipolis fell. But its greatest boom would occur when full mining and smelting operations at the Asyla mines began.
Of greater importance was the fact that Attalus had been successful in making contact with the traitorous merchants inside Amphipolis. They answered by telling his agents that the price of their betrayal would be twelve gold-laden donkeys. Attalus, after consulting with Philip, arranged a demonstration for the merchants. Twelve donkeys were led to the crest of a small hill, where they remained all day. Inside Amphipolis's walls the merchants, unobtrusively and one-by-one, sauntered to the top of the highest wall. They viewed the donkeys that no other Amphipolin attached meaning to, and then returned to their shops to complete their treacherous plans.
Attalus paced the Macedonian camp and awaited word from inside the walls. The battle for Amphipolis would begin when the city's avaricious merchants sent word to the enemy, announcing the exact night of their treachery. During this time, King Philip directed the final sapping and mining operations that would topple the city's walls. His siege engineers used a model to show him how they would complete the critical main undermining tunnel beneath the highest and strongest wall.
Philip told his engineers that when the traitors seized the inside portion of the main wall, their leader would release a homing pigeon provided by Attalus. The pigeon would fly directly to a cage outside the Macedonian command tent and a furious rush to dig the last segment of the undermining tunnel would begin. Over two thousand hoplites had been training for weeks in a valley beyond sight of Amphipolis's high walls. The Athenian siege engineer told Philip they were ready and that they could only wait.
"Why are you using only two thousand diggers?" Philip asked.
"The problem is space, King Philip," the engineer responded. "Only one hundred of the two thousand will do the digging. The rest will form a shoulder-to-shoulder chain to move baskets of dirt and rock out of the tunnel. Teams of diggers will be replaced at regular intervals so that a maximum digging rate can be maintained. When the tunnel is at or just beyond the center of the wall, it will collapse of its own weight."
"What will happen to the men there?.
"They'll be crushed. There's no other way."
"Then I want slaves digging the final segment. I'll not needlessly sacrifice my men when there's another way. These men will be asked to die for me in the years ahead. I'll not let it be known that Philip sacrifices his soldiers needlessly."
"Slaves will be used as the final diggers," the engineer agreed.
Philip turned to another engineer in charge of the siege engines. "When the wall falls, what's our next action? There’s going to be debris around the wall. How are our hoplites supposed to move through it? They’ll be under attack from the remaining sections of the walls."
"While you were in Crenides, we built five different siege engines," the second engineer replied. "Let me show you the models."
Philip was led to a corner of the command tent where a large table held the miniature siege engines. There were model torsion catapults, given thrusting power by hai
r ropes. Some threw heavy stones, while others launched scores of arrows or lead shot with a single release. Other models represented battering rams. They were made by roping together four full-size trees and suspending the ram from a wooden frame. Models of tall siege towers that could be rolled on large wooden wheels to the top of a wall were shown to Philip. He saw how each tower had internal ladders where his soldiers could climb while being protected by the external wood walls of the tower.
"After the main wall collapses, our catapults will begin releasing their loads," the engineer explained. "The barrage will continue until all missiles are gone. This will clear the walls of defenders. Then our battering rams will crush any debris that has fallen into the breach. Simultaneously, the towers will be moved into adjacent sections of the remaining wall where soldiers will begin hand-to-hand combat with the city's defenders."
Philip studied the models and listened carefully to the battle plan. It seemed sound, but he was wary. This was his first siege, and he knew that all plans changed with the mayhem of battle. "Attalus, will you be able to use your cavalry in this action? Won't there will be too much debris for our horsemen?"
"A damned lot of debris," Attalus said. "I've had the companions riding through closely spaced boulders in the countryside around here. They would just be slow-moving targets for enemy archers. The best way to use our horsemen is for us to wait until the main gates of the city have been opened. Three thousand cavalrymen can then mount the charge into the heart of the city."
"All right then. We await only a bird's arrival to begin this operation. A word of caution to you commanders: when the city falls and victory is ours, I want no unnecessary destruction or pillaging. Tell our men that there will be plenty of opportunities for that recreation in the future. I'll not win this battle and lose the political war that follows. Others are watching us: the Thracians, the Chalcidians, and most importantly, the Athenians. Our terms will be firm but just. When I've annexed Thrace, I want a friendly buffer to our east. Raping the city will prevent that. Anyone violating my orders will be executed. Get that message to every commander and soldier."
With these words, Philip left the command tent and walked to his quarters. He took a large leather goat-skin of strong Macedonian wine and started a lonely vigil that would end with a pigeon's arrival.
Five days passed with no word from the merchants inside the city. Although Philip's commanders watched every movement atop the main wall, they couldn't discern one Amphipolin from another. Then, at midmorning, a solitary pigeon suddenly landed atop a large cane cage beside the command tent. Attalus took the cooing bird to the king with a broad smile. "It's tonight," he said. "Word has been spread throughout our ranks; all is in readiness. We'll show no movement until after dark. Then the undermining will begin. By tomorrow's sunset, Amphipolis will be ours."
"Good," said Philip. "I'll lead the foot companions through the breach after our catapult barrage ends. We'll take the main gate and open it as soon as we can. We'll be hard pressed at the gate, so you and your cavalry must win the day. Don't fail me."
"I'll be there, Philip. Your greatest victory awaits you."
The king and the cavalry commander parted. Attalus joined his horsemen in another part of the encampment. Philip visited a crude shrine that had been built some distance from the front lines. He gave supplication to the Olympian gods and told them that if he were given this victory, he would glorify them with a new temple in the center of Pella. Little did he know that his wife had already made other commitments to a rival of Philip's stern Olympians.
The tunneling and mining went nearly as planned. It was only when the main wall collapsed that the Macedonians nearly lost the battle. Much to the surprise of the Athenian siege engineers, the wall was constructed of enormous boulders, twice the size of a horse. Philip had been assured that the wall was made of mortar, fist-sized rocks and earth. When the wall collapsed, it left a mound nearly half its original size, strewn with mountainous rocks and jagged rubble. The Amphipolins rushed to fill the gaping hole with soldiers, but they were immediately killed by the Macedonian rock and arrow catapult barrage.
Then, a near-fatal stalemate occurred. The Amphipolins could not defend the opening, but neither could the invading Macedonians climb easily over the rock and debris in enough numbers to enter the city. Philip, seeing that the battle hinged on his foot companions making a sacrificial thrust through the opening, shouted for his officers to form a protection shield around him. He led five thousand stumbling companions up a Macedonian-built earthen ramp and into the rocky heap.
Amphipolin archers atop the remaining portions of the walls killed hundreds of his soldiers in the debris. Macedonian archers on thirty-five-cubit-tall siege towers that were flush against the unbroken walls soon eliminated these archers. Finally, the king and four thousand hoplites began a desperate series of small group and individual combats toward the main gate. The gate was heavily defended by several thousand Amphipolin hoplites and fierce, hand-to-hand fighting reigned.
Philip was wounded in the shoulder by a sword thrust that would have ended his life, had not one of his officers deflected the enemy's jab. Surrounded immediately by twenty soldiers, he continued to direct the taking of the main gate. At last, the gate was opened.
Philip's bloodied foot companions stood aside as Attalus's mounted Royal Companion cavalry galloped through the gate. They yelled the Macedonian war cry and spurred their mounts into the waiting Amphipolin defenders. An impenetrable Macedonian wall of spears and swords met the stationary defenders and soon they fell back, unable to hold the charging cavalry. Attalus's horsemen pushed them deep inside the city until the Macedonians were at the city's small agora. The tide of battle turned as the lightning cavalry spread throughout the city. Quickly and lethally, they either eliminated or forced surrender of the city's defenders. The victory was won.
King Philip was taken to a safe area and was given medical attention by a battlefield physician. His wound was not critical, but he had lost a fifth of his blood while directing the opening of the city gate. Pale as his new wife's alabaster skin, he fought unconsciousness while his wound was cleaned and wrapped. Before allowing his officers to take him out of the city to a medical station, he directed that he be carried on a litter to view the semi-ruined city.
Dead soldiers, mostly Amphipolins, were everywhere. Severed heads, disemboweled corpses and bodies with missing arms and legs greeted him. Before leaving, he gave orders for lenient treatment of the city's leaders. All Athenians were to be given immediate freedom and safe passage home. Amphipolin hoplites were given the choice of joining the Macedonian army or being sold into slavery. He knew that most would join his forces.
As the king was rushed out of Amphipolis, he allowed a faint smile to cross his face. This was his life's purpose. The battle had been an affirmation of that. As he had known since his time as a Theban hoplite, the planning and leading of brave men in monumental battles was the only life he wanted. If he ever had to be a court-king in Pella, merely directing his generals from afar, he would have preferred to die at Amphipolis's main gate. With that thought, the king fainted as porters handed him over to his personal physician.
Three weeks after the fall of Amphipolis, Philip had recovered sufficiently from his shoulder wound that the physicians pronounced him strong enough to return to Pella. Before leaving, he appointed a Macedonian governor in the city and established a Macedonian system of justice to replace the hopeless democratic one of the Amphipolin demos.
There were economic changes as well. He met with local mint artisans and commissioned the first coin in his honor. Not surprisingly, it was to be called a Philip, in direct challenge of the Persian king's daric. The obverse image of the coin was to show a laurel-wreathed Zeus in profile. The reverse was to show a team of horses being driven to victory in the Olympic games. When the silver, gold, and bronze of the Aslya mines began to flow through his newly founded city of Philippi, a mint would be established there to produc
e the coins in great numbers. Then the still recovering king and Antipater left for home.
Remaining behind was Attalus, whose responsibility it was to conduct clean-up operations in and around the city.
Philip took longer than normal to travel back to his capital because of his wound and generally weakened condition. The king used the slower riding pace to engage in ribald conversation with Antipater and the captains of his royal companion guards. They imbibed far too much wine, even while riding, and when they reached the night's stopping point, the drinking continued. The king's aids lauded his courage and leadership during the critical battle for Amphipolis's main gate during these drinking bouts. He was assured that when he returned to Pella, the city's artists, musicians, and dramatists would immortalize his brave deeds.
On the evening of the third day, the party arrived at Pella. The king had ordered that there was to be no victory reception or parade upon his return. He was far too weary for that. Instead, his royal physicians took him for examination. They examined, treated, and re-bandaged his shoulder wound, giving assurance that the healing process was proceeding satisfactorily. With that encouraging news, Philip left the physicians for his palace. After he was bathed by three of his favorite boys, he told a servant to go to Queen Myrtle and tell her that he would visit her bedchambers sometime during the evening. He completed several conferences with court officials, then walked the short distance to Myrtle's bedchambers. He carried the bag of gold nuggets that he had been given at Crenides.
Myrtle's door was opened for him and the king started to enter. Suddenly he froze at the sight that was before him. His queen was in her massive new bed, wearing a long white robe. Scores of writhing snakes covered the bed. Some were curled in the bed covers; a few were slinking around the edge of their box containers that surrounded the bed on three sides. Myrtle held three in her hands. Philip was speechless.
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