Philip and Olympias: A Novel of Ancient Macedon

by Peter Messmore

  "Make overtures to Artabazus and Memnon through our agents in Pella. I want them back. First, they're mine. Second, I don't want them giving information to Philip about our military weaknesses. If you can't convince them of my personal esteem, bribe them. If you can't bribe them, assassinate them. If you fail at this, your fate will be the same as the two traitors who will be dismembered here in three days."

  "Your commands will be carried out, Great King. May I leave?"

  "Go to your assignments. I'll stay in Ephesus until the first pieces are cut from the traitors. I'll then return to Egypt and await the new Greek mercenaries."

  Bagoas prostrated himself and left Ochus. Walking from the king's chamber, he knew that difficult, even dangerous work lay before him. He wouldn't be allowed to fail at even one of the orders that had been given him. He had to continue to support his king and carry out every command for the time being. But who could tell what an uncertain future would bring? Try as he may, he couldn't rid himself of the fanciful idea that Persia might just be ready for its first eunuch Great King.

  CHAPTER 16

  Philip completed nearly two months of recuperation at his palace in Pella. A near fatal bout with pneumonia had ended his siege of Heraeon-Teichos. The illness also temporarily ended his eastward plans into Thrace and the Chersonese. As he slowly recovered his strength, he spent more time with five-year-old Alexander. He was impressed with his son's lively mind and loquacious manner. Everyone in the court marveled at the boy's precocious personality, crediting it to his headstrong parents and the quality of his life-tutoring. Philip, too, was pleased with his son's education and made a mental note to reward the boy's tutors when he returned from Epirus.

  The journey to Epirus was partly his idea and partly the result of nagging from Olympias. She pestered him constantly during his convalescence. On one of these visits, she informed him that her younger brother, Alexander of Epirus, was in mortal danger from her Uncle Arybbas. Arybbas was still Epirus's regent. She warned that as her brother grew into his teenage years, he would be perceived as a threat to her uncle. Given the slightest opportunity, Arybbas would have him eliminated, she reasoned. Philip understood the deadly logic of his wife's entreaty.

  When he had nearly recovered, he agreed with Olympias and made preparations to go to Dodona. He would bring the adolescent heir to the Molossian throne back to Pella. Besides, Arybbas was getting too independent for Philip's liking. A trip was also necessary to stabilize Macedon's western frontier. As everyone knew they would, the Illyrians were again making deadly incursions into Macedonian territory. The king planned to lead his army against them this time. After they were defeated, he would fetch Olympias's brother and return home.

  A few days before his departure, he called a meeting with Parmenio, Attalus, and Antipater. His generals knew that their monarch was unhappy with the army's premature withdrawal from Heraeon-Teichos and that it was only a matter of time before they returned to Thrace.

  "You look better than when I last saw you on the long road home from Heraeon-Teichos," Antipater said. "Are you fully recovered?"

  "Not yet. "It still hurts when I take a deep breath, but I'm strong enough to travel. I leave for the western frontier soon with a third of the army. Antipater, you and Parmenio will go with me and direct the battlefield operations. I'll provide only command backup, since I can't fight yet."

  "It's good to hear you say that," said Parmenio. "You shouldn't be fighting at all, not in the coming battle or future ones. You're king and have special responsibilities, far beyond army command."

  "I know your feelings on this,” Philip snapped. "But I'll not ask my men to do anything that I can't and won’t do myself. They follow me to the ends of the earth because of that. Don't ask me to change how I lead, when it has been successful for nine years. But enough of this. That's not why I called you here. Attalus, I want you to increase the number of our agents in Olynthus. I want them as a semi-independent client state of Macedon, after they give me what I want. The fools play a dangerous game! First they ally with us against Athens, then they make diplomatic overtures to Athens. They must make up their minds and take sides, one way or the other. When the time is right, I intend to take the entire Chalcidian peninsula. Before that happens, I want our agents in the city. They still harbor my two half-brothers. I want them both surrendered. If we can bribe them out of the city, that's what I'll do. If I have to besiege and level Olynthus to get them, I'll do that. Both of them will die, the only question is when. Now that Alexander's my successor, I'll not have them challenging him for the throne if I should die on some battlefield."

  His generals knew that the king was becoming more aware of his mortality. The shoulder wound that he had received in the battle for Amphipolis, the arrow that had blinded him at Methone, and now a near-fatal bout with Thracian pneumonia, had made him think more of what would happen to Macedon if he were gone. Each understood that young Alexander would be educated quickly by the best pedagogues and taught rapidly the basics of warfare. It wouldn't surprise any of them if the prince would ride to Olynthus sitting on one of his three small ponies Philip had given him.

  "We already have ten agents in the Chalcidice," Attalus said. "But you're right, we need more in Olynthus itself. Already, we have two strong supporters there in high office. I'll begin working on it immediately. When you all return from Illyria and Epirus, they'll be in place, sending us information."

  "What do our sources in Athens tell us?" the king asked.

  "They have you either dead or so ill that you'll never lead another army again," the intelligence chief replied with a smirk. "Demosthenes continues haranguing the boule, demanding that it take military action against us. But his latest attempts have met with either failure or only mild support."

  "How many boule members are we bribing?"

  "Only two," Attalus answered. "We must be careful how we bribe these democrats. If they're discovered taking money to influence their vote, they'll be ostracized by the ecclesia. So far, no one in Athens knows of our influence over the members. They don't even know of each other's actions. It must be kept that way."

  "Increase the bribe for just those two," Philip commanded. "I've found the more officials we bribe, the greater the chance that they will be discovered. When the time is right, I'll pick more boule members to corrupt."

  The king rose from the couch that he had been reclining on and began to walk to his private chambers, showing that the meeting was over.

  “Philip,” Attalus called after him. “There’s one more thing.”

  The king turned around and scowled. “What is it?”

  "As you know,” Attalus said, “one of the Persian Great King's satraps, Artabazus of Phrygia, has been fighting a war of attrition since Ochus came to power. Artabazus was initially successful against the Great King, mainly because of the mercenary army of the Theban, Pammenes, and his captain, Memnon of Rhodes. Artabazus suspected that Pammenes had been bribed by Ochus and was working against him. So he sent the Theban back to Boeotia. Memnon stayed with Artabazus and, for months, has been fighting a losing series of battles against Persian forces."

  "I once lived with Pammenes as a hostage, and I know this history, Attalus. What's your point?"

  "Artabazus has sent word to us that his cause is lost, largely because Athens has begun to cooperate with Ochus in the area south of the Hellespont. They know we’ll enter Persia there some day. Neither wants a pro-Macedonian satrap giving us a bridgehead into Asia."

  "Their fear is justified. Does Artabazus seek asylum with us?" the king asked.

  "He does. He asks sanctuary not only for himself, he wants to bring his family. I'm told that his fifteen-year-old daughter, Barsine, is one of the most beautiful woman in Persia. He's also requested that his general, Memnon, receive your protection too."

  Philip considered the request. It would be advantageous to have the satrap as a Persian defector in his court. When Athens was finally subdued, he intended to cross the He
llespont and take the Great King's wealth and empire. He had also heard of Memnon's able generalship in the service of Artabazus and welcomed a fresh military mind to aid him in his upcoming campaign against Chalcidice.

  But could the men be agents of Ochus, sent to infiltrate his inner circle and report on Macedon's intentions? He rejected the last possibility, knowing that the people of Phrygia supported Artabazus’s insurrection and that it had lasted for over two years. "Get word to Artabazus that he, his family, and Memnon are welcome in Pella. I expect to see them here when I return." With these words, the king left to see his doctors, who wanted to check his breathing and lungs before allowing his departure.

  His generals stayed behind to coordinate their efforts. Again, Philip was on the move. As always, the king's actions were fraught with danger and prospects for personal and national glory. Although none of the generals expressed it, each knew why they so unquestioningly supported their young monarch. No other life that they could live, certainly not the life of a remote tribal chieftain or provincial governor, could ever match the exhilarating experience that resulted from serving Philip. Macedon was again reaching out for glory and dominion.

  While Philip was gone, Olympias seized the opportunity to visit his latest Thessalian concubine, Nikesipolis. She had only briefly seen the young woman when the king first brought her into the palace. Philip was careful to keep his concubines not only away from each other, but also from Olympias. Olympias had noted her dark beauty during that elusive first encounter, but knew little else about the young woman. But it wasn't just curiosity or the concubine's beauty that prompted the visit. It was part of Macedonian folklore that Thessalian women had the ability to cast magic spells and use secret potions against men—especially husbands—to get them to do what they wanted. Philip's absence was just the opportunity that she needed to investigate this potential witch and protect her queenship. As she was escorted by one of her bodyguards into Nikesipolis's modest room, the queen's first impression was that she was the most beautiful woman she had ever seen.

  "I'm Queen Olympias, mother of Prince Alexander," she said. "It's time we got to know each other."

  The young girl bowed gracefully and showed the queen a comfortable couch. "I'm pleased to meet you, Olympias. We should have talked long before now."

  "It's said that you have the power to use magic and concoct potions," Olympias said, as she abruptly began a near-interrogation. "Is that true?"

  The young woman smiled. "I do not, my queen. It's a convenient myth that has grown over the years about us. We have allowed it to continue; it makes Thessalian women’s lives easier. The only magic we use is our wit and cunning, a quality that men suppress because of their aggressive ways. Don't fear me, Olympias. The magic only works with a man who has only one woman in his life. Philip has made it clear his concubines are merely for occasional sexual pleasure. You and you alone are Queen of Macedon. Philip's concubines recognize that Alexander is the only heir to the throne. That can never be challenged."

  Olympias half-smiled. "Your magic is in your beauty and insight into the difficult role that women find themselves in, my dear. I think that I may have found a friend in you. I must say that when you become pregnant, as you surely will with Philip's lustful appetite, you must never allow a male child issued from your womb to live. There will only be one heir to the Macedonian throne. I have sworn that to Zeus-Ammon almighty. If you deliver a male child, kill him immediately before Philip learns of the birth. If you can't do it, bring the baby to me and I'll do it. I have already eliminated babies in Epirus by burning them in a charcoal brazier. I'll not hesitate to do it again. I don't care how often he visits you; nor will I be alarmed with the birth of female babies. However, a male rival to Alexander is utterly unacceptable. Do you understand me?"

  Nikesipolis appeared stunned by the queen's brazier remark. But she knew that she must agree quickly or further suspicion between the two would result. "Thessalian women have the power to know the sex of the baby long before it is born, my queen. A male baby's life would be ended long before birth. We know how to do it."

  "Then we'll get along, Nikesipolis. Come, let's walk in the garden and learn more about each other. You'll find that I can help you enjoy palace life. I may even teach you to read, after I learn."

  The two women left the small room and strolled arm-in-arm through the palace and out into a bright, sun-flooded garden. Olympias was pleased with the encounter, but knew that her vigilance must never end, at least not until her son sat on Macedon's throne. Nikesipolis, still shaken, understood her place now more than ever.

  After the Nikesipolis visit, Olympias concentrated her efforts on her sole reason for existence, her son Alexander. She was indoctrinating the boy in all aspects of religious devotion. He knew, even at five, everything that his mother did about Greek religion, the Samothracian and Eleusinian mysteries, the worship of Dionysus and Orpheus, and the legends about the Olympian gods. Alexander was required to visit the Temple of Orpheus daily. His mother had erected it years ago. Recently, Olympias had started telling her son that he was special. Special beyond just being a prince and the only successor to his father's throne. His uniqueness had to do with his birth. She explained over a period of months that although Philip was his mortal father, Alexander had another father. A god-father, none other than Zeus-Ammon himself. She told Alexander that the night of his conception a thunderbolt had penetrated her womb and planted the spirit-seed of Zeus-Ammon deep inside her. As she told the wide-eyed Alexander the story, she put his hand on her pelvic area and asked him if he could feel the god-induced heat that still emanated from her.

  "How can I have come from both a god and a man?" Alexander asked.

  "It's a mystery that few humans will ever understand, son. Even I don't, but it is true. Only when you become a man and make a pilgrimage to Siwah, in the vast Egyptian desert, will you know why you were chosen."

  Although his adroit young mind couldn't fathom even half that his mother was telling him, although he would spend the rest of his life seeking the deepest meaning of what she had related, the boy never doubted what his mother told him: he was the son of the supreme god. That was all that mattered. It would take time for the boy to teach others that his special powers were only in small part given to him by a human father, a father who was at this very time putting his mortal body in danger for additional conquest.

  The tutoring of Prince Alexander and his one-year-younger sister, Princess Kleopatra, had been given over to two pedagogues. Olympias knew in detail the cognitive and experiential lessons that her children were receiving, but never took part in the actual instruction. The prince's and princess's first teacher was a stern kinsman of Olympias' family, Leonidas. He found two children who had been brought up from birth to experience hardships and austere living. He continued that practice and deprived the boy and girl of all luxury.

  Years later, when they were old enough, both brother and sister were given palace instruction and field trip lessons. They learned how to live in the forest for days and how to face, unafraid, the dangers of hunting wild animals. They were even taught limited aspects of battlefield strategy. It was usual for both children to disappear from the palace for days.

  Olympias knew that they were safe, learning stark life lessons from the inflexible Leonidas. She found security too in knowing that her offspring were protected from afar by palace bodyguards.

  Leonidas didn't forget the children’s personal hygiene and cleanliness. Both were taught to bathe daily, whether they were in the palace or camping in some rough mountain glade. He taught them how to clean their teeth after each meal by first dipping their wet fingers into a small container that had a mixture of emery, ground alabaster, and iron rust particles in it. He demonstrated how to scrub their teeth, front and back, with both index fingers to remove all traces of food. In a time when most adults, including their parents, had either lost their teeth or had such a foul odor from rotting teeth that even casual conversation w
as a stomach-churning experience, Alexander and Kleopatra were renowned for their amazingly white teeth and sweet smelling breaths.

  Their other tutor, more Alexander's than Kleopatra's, was Lysimachus. Of a completely different disposition, he taught the prince softer lessons. The old pedagogue from Acarnania introduced Alexander to the production and appreciation of music. Even at five, the boy could play the lyre so sweetly that tears would come to the eyes of nearly everyone who heard him. Lysimachus also gave the son of Philip and Olympias a deep appreciation of drama and taught him Attic Greek reading and writing. He even had Alexander writing poetry shortly after his fourth birthday.

  Other less educated men taught the prince how to ride a horse, throw a javelin, wield a small sword, and how to shoot a small bow and arrow made especially for him.

  Philip finally returned from Illyria and Epirus after a long absence. He had been victorious against the Illyrians. They were now isolated along the Adriatic coast, ruled by a weak vassal chosen by the king. He also brought back with him Olympias's young brother, Alexander of Epirus. Philip had given Arybbas stern warnings that, if he didn't support Macedon's actions in the future, he would return with his full army, depose him, and place the teenage rightful heir on the Molossian throne. When he introduced the Molossian Alexander to his Alexander, his son, both boys struck up an immediate friendship. This despite the fact that Olympias's brother was six years older than the prince.

  Awaiting the king's return was the ex-Persian satrap, Artabazus of Phrygia. Philip met with the former governor after a banquet and was impressed with his intellect, his physical stature, his trilinguality, but mostly his breathtakingly beautiful daughter, Barsine. "Perhaps my son will take a liking to your daughter," Philip said to the former satrap.