The king's soldiers escorted the procession until it reached the outskirts of Pella. There, they left the road and allowed the group to disappear into the distant hills. Their commander had long ago been instructed by Philip never to interfere with their ritual or in any way hamper their rites.
Two days later, they returned. Each had an otherworldly look in her eyes. Many of their garments were dirty and torn. Hair treatments, which two days ago were beautifully arranged, were ruined, hanging around shoulders. The women's appearances didn't matter, for they were at one with the god. Olympias was pleased that another great Dionysia had come and gone. Many converts were added to his ranks, increasing his—and the queen's—power. She also was infused with a new spiritual peace.
Equally important, she no longer had to rely on just Dionysus and her snakes to achieve sexual satisfaction. Olympias sensed that Philip had already fallen out of love with her. Her love for him was nearly exhausted. But now, she had lusty Nikesipolis and her magical Thessalian ways to get her through the next difficult years with Philip.
The first month of Philip's absence passed. Olympias continued to work with her priests to influence political and social life in the capital. When she was satisfied that her will had been imposed on every religious function, she called her chief priest, Perthian, to her reception room.
"Did you contact Nikesipolis's friend in Athens?"
"I have, my queen," Perthian replied. "The young woman sleeps regularly with our target. She can be influenced to work for us."
"Why are you so certain she'll cooperate? The stakes are high. Does she know that?"
"She's not too bright, your majesty. That's good for us. She likes luxurious things and doesn't get enough money from her lover to maintain herself in Athens. The city is the most expensive in Greece."
"Did you give her money?"
"I left enough to whet her greedy appetite. She understands what we want and knows that only by getting results will she get more. When she produces useful information, we will give her more. She's too much of a child to operate any other way."
"I agree and approve of your actions, Perthian. Develop her slowly, for we still have time. As Philip continues his conquering ways, I will be given the priceless opportunity I have been waiting for. First Macedonia, then all Hellas will slowly be converted to the worship of Dionysus and Zeus-Ammon. I will be the leader of that movement. Women will be my agents. They are the only real zealots among the sexes.”
“But we must be methodical and patient. Were matters more urgent, I'd press for quick action, but that isn't necessary, yet. Find more women like her who can help us. When the time comes, I want a network of women believers, whores, and priests. Their erect organs allow us to lead men around easily. Our believers will point them in the right direction."
"My queen, I must remind you that there is great danger in what we do. Attalus is suspicious of you. He hasn't said anything to Philip yet, but one of our Pella whores who sleeps with his staff captain informed me that he suspects you. Attalus is brilliant—even more, ruthless. If he discovers our network, our lives will be forfeit."
Perthian's dire words surprised the queen. She was disappointed in herself that she hadn't sensed Attalus's suspicions before now. She stood up from her couch and walked to the balcony. A musty lake-breeze blew into the room from Lake Loudias. She inhaled deeply and turned to Perthian. "Who does Attalus sleep with?"
"Mostly his wife, and occasional boys. The few other women that he takes are girls of the countryside. They're chosen randomly, and he rarely goes back to them. We can't get to him. It would mean our end."
"Then we must build a wall around him. I'll give the matter thought. You do the same. There are ways to delude him. We must simply develop them. We've come far together, Perthian; don't allow yourself to be intimidated. He is too busy with military matters to investigate details of our religious affairs. When he realizes that we have crossed into his domain, it will be too late."
"I'll give it my highest consideration. Is that all?"
"You may leave.” The queen was lost in thought as she left her reception room and went to her snakes, slithering in their bedside cages. She took out a small one and held it close to her cheek. Closing her eyes, she appealed to Zeus-Ammon to give her protection from Attalus's prying suspicions. When she finished, she had been calmed, assured that all would be well. Alexander's true father was aware of the problem. She couldn't be harmed.
Olympias often took Alexander with her when she offered her daily animal sacrifices. Queen and prince were transported by muscular, male slaves down the hillside on which the palace stood. Slowly, they made their way to Pella's temple district in the southwest quadrant of the capital. Most often, they worshiped at Zeus-Ammon's temple. During special religious holidays, they gave sacrifices at a variety of other temples devoted to lesser gods. There were temples to Athena, Heracles, Poseidon, and to the Cabiri gods of Samothrace.
Olympias used the time immediately after the offerings to receive Alexander's reading and writing instruction. Only in these temples did she feel secure, away from Attalus's spies. During the last year the queen had learned to read simple correspondence scrolls. Now she began to write, but only with difficulty. Alexander wasn't a good teacher, but he managed to introduce his mother to elementary reading and writing. He soon noticed—based on the ease with which he became literate—that she was experiencing more than normal difficulty mastering Attic Greek orthography. Then he remembered a technique that old Lysimachus had used to teach Kleopatra and him reading and writing. He thought it might be useful with his mother. The method involved using wax tablets and a wooden stylus. He wrote mostly religious words on the tablet with the stylus, saying the word aloud as he wrote it. Then he had his mother trace the word’s wax impression with her index finger, saying it syllabically as she traced it. The method seemed to help.
But Alexander's surreptitious teaching was only partially successful. For the last several weeks, it appeared that his mother had reached a learning plateau. Still, as the months passed, he persisted. Finally, the boy lost all patience and told his mother that he had done all that he could. Queen Olympias of Macedon never again received instruction in the symbols that made up Attic Greek. With Alexander's tutorial withdrawal, one of the most intelligent women in the Greek world was condemned to spend the rest of her life as a semiliterate.
When the reading and writing instruction ended, mother and son often lingered in the temple and discussed other matters. Each was operating from different agendas during these discussions. Alexander soon learned that his mother was intent on indoctrination. She told him repeatedly of his Zeus-Ammon ancestry. She imbued in him the unique characteristics of his religious and ancestral lineage. Mostly, she excoriated Philip. Alexander heard his mother describe endlessly Philip's vices and shortcomings. He learned that he was too weak to be king. She told her son that when Philip reached middle age, he would make a fatal mistake. This mistake would cause him either to be killed in battle or eliminated by a court rival.
Alexander listened respectfully and absorbed much, but not everything that she said. Questions that he most wanted answers to were far beyond his mother's interest or education. She simply ignored the questions and returned to her tirade against Philip.
"When will I get the answers to my uncertainties, mother?"
"You're too concerned with abstract thought, Alexander. Listen to your mother. Someday you'll learn the answers to the questions you ask. I'll speak to Philip soon about getting a tutor for you after you leave Lysimachus. This time is our last as mother and son. It is precious. The instruction you receive when you come of age will sever our bond. It will never again be the way it now is between us."
"That's unavoidable. I must grow beyond both you and Philip. Life expects that of a son, especially a son of my qualities."
Olympias was pensive. She knew Alexander was right, but refused to acknowledge it to him. Her influence was already waning. The boy
was headstrong and needed a strong hand—a male hand. But the needed guidance must not come from Philip. She resolved to have Alexander's education take place away from Pella. If she must lose her son to maturity, she could deny Philip having any influence over her only reason for living.
They walked out of the temple, both lost in thought. Olympias knew of a place that might be right for Alexander to begin his education. It was not too far from Pella, yet far enough to reduce Philip's influence over the prince. It was Mieza, the district of the nymphs. Greeks called the area the Gardens of Midas. The region produced the best red wine grapes in Hellas. She developed quickly the beginnings of a plan that she knew would influence her husband's decision about Alexander's school site. Philip had told her, more than once, that he wanted Alexander schooled far away from Pella and her influence. She most feared that the pedagogue, Aristotle, would take him to the Troad. She could never allow that.
Her plan centered on Philip’s love of the rich, red wine produced from the grapes grown in the Gardens of Midas. She would get him to purchase some vineyards there. Then she would work to have the grapes blended into a unique red wine named after King Philip. His natural vanity would take him there often enough that he would become receptive to making it the place of Prince Alexander’s education. The plan required Zeus-Ammon's support and her priest network, but it was well within the realm of possibility. She had three years—more than enough time for a woman of her talents.
Two years ago Olympias had sent her daughter Kleopatra to a religious convent. It was in a small village beneath Mount Paiko, only half a day's ride from Pella. Olympias had been responsible for the convent's existence, having established it the first year of her queenship. It was modeled after the profound religious training that she had received at the hands of Nereid, so many years ago. Only pre-teenage girls were allowed to attend the convent. The order's religious regimen was based on the ancient beliefs that she had been taught as a girl. She even required the young girls to make annual pilgrimages to the Dodona Shrine.
However Olympias made sure that other lessons were taught at Paiko. She often met secretly with the three-woman staff at the convent during the months before it opened. Each member had been carefully chosen. Two had accompanied the queen from Dodona when she married Philip. The other one was an out-of-favor priestess at one of Pella's temples. Each understood that she was required to teach the girls more than religion. Olympias called the nonreligious training Young Women's Learning. The queen was insistent that it would prepare the girls for womanhood and help them understand the tortured life-position that they would enter.
Generations-old, male-dominated society that would soon dominate their lives allowed little female freedom. Unless they were queens, or came from a royal line, they would be shut away in the upper rooms of their husbands' houses. They couldn't shop publicly, nor could they be seen alone on a city street. They commonly dined alone with their children. Their life duty was to bear male children and supervise the household staff. They had to endure their husbands' female and male extramarital activities and never speak of them. This would be their lives.
Paiko convent's meager curriculum offered the girls hope. Each was taught about men's weaknesses. They learned how to use sex to get what they wanted. Even before puberty, they were taught that men longed for something they had between their legs. A clever woman could use men’s’ primal craving to make her life more bearable. There were other ways to win and dominate men as well.
Shortly after Olympias learned of Nikesipolis's magical ways, she sent immediately for the lead teacher from Paiko. She commanded the woman to visit the queen's new friend. Her charge was to learn as much as she could about Thessalian women's magical controls over domineering males. Only four people in Macedonia, the queen and Paiko's three teachers, knew that the girls were being taught to read and write. Not even Attalus's spy network ever discovered that reading and writing instruction was going on at the convent, although he tried repeatedly to penetrate the school's activities.
Once, Queen Olympias went to Paiko and instructed the girls for a day. Her message was simple yet powerful. Win by staying ahead of men, not just even with them. Anticipate their actions and what was going on in their lives. Know that when you are even with men, you are falling behind, she taught. She presented life examples as models how she had done this, spellbinding the young girls. Here was the Queen of Macedon telling them that it was all right to out-think their male oppressors. Olympias's message offered them hope for survival.
Now, after two years, her daughter was in the first group of girls to complete the Paiko training. The training was quantitatively and qualitatively much less than Kleopatra's brother would receive, three years hence. But for Kleopatra's time, her rudimentary education was revolutionary. Olympias's daughter visited the Dodona Shrine before returning home to Pella. There, she received a personal prophecy from the priestess, sitting beneath the sacred oak. Filled with a vision of her destiny, Kleopatra returned to her father's court.
"You radiate Dodona, Kleopatra," Olympias told her daughter.
"I'll never be the same," Kleopatra answered. "The convent taught me ways to grow and survive; the god at Dodona provided the purpose. My love and gratitude are yours for these experiences."
Olympias beamed. Her daughter had been given more of a chance to impact life than she had. Olympias wasn't finished yet, but she now was convinced that her daughter’s achievements would exceed her own. She had set her on a path. The rest was up to her. "I want you to assume an active religious life in Pella. Practice, also, the nonreligious principles that you learned on Alexander and your father when he returns. Alexander still has an open mind about women. He can be influenced. His brightness makes him receptive. Philip is beyond change, but he will give you a chance to practice your skills against the citadel of male oppressiveness. If you make even the smallest inroad with him, you will have succeeded wildly."
Kleopatra smiled. She already had a plan in mind. For months she had wanted to know if the Paiko techniques could be used against women. Her mother was to be her first target. One Paiko strategy involved telling a person what they wanted to hear to get them to do what you wanted. Why not begin the experiment now?, the princess thought.
"Mother, among our Paiko teachers, your message was the most profound. I'll remember forever what you taught us. Girls and women must protect and support each other throughout their lifetimes. I'll follow your suggestion and work on Alexander and father. It will be a good experiment." Kleopatra rose to leave. She walked a few paces then returned to her mother's side. "Oh yes, I almost forgot. A woman you sent to teach us had traveled with the camel caravans, far to the east of Persia. She told us how oriental women handle their men. I also learned much of their culture. It is said that their kings have small palace dogs that guard the inner palace. They're kept because they sleep lightly. An intruder can never approach without them barking. She told us that it is possible to get some of these cute dogs and have them brought to Pella. Would you get me one?"
Olympias smiled and was pleased. She had wondered how long it would take her daughter to begin using the Paiko techniques against her. Kleopatra had already started.
"I'll investigate it. Go about your duties as I've asked you. Perhaps you'll be rewarded. Leave now. I must begin my devotions. Report to me when you've had success."
It took three months to spread word that the Queen of Macedon wanted the small palace dogs. It took another three months for them to be found. Five dogs, now grown to three-fourths their ultimate size, were finally brought to Pella from a land far to the east of Persia—a land that the Greeks didn't know existed. Olympias's chief priest purchased the litter and the dogs' mother for an outrageous price, and then delivered them to the Queen. Olympias hid the dogs in a temple until Philip returned to Pella. She wanted the animals presented to Kleopatra and Alexander in the king's presence. This was a rare Macedonian royal family event, and she intended to use it for her purpos
es.
One of Paiko's most powerful precepts, applied to Macedon's royal family, was simple: manipulate Kleopatra, and then have Kleopatra manipulate the king.
CHAPTER 21
Philip's army took only three months to find and defeat Cersobleptes in eastern Thrace. The humbled former Macedonian ally was not killed, but left in power and forced to renew his old alliance with Macedon. He was required to give his only son as a hostage to the Macedonian king, an old strategy that Philip had often used as governor of Elimea. The boy would be taken to Pella and would join other young boys as hostages.
King Philip spent another month in Thrace, during which he mopped up scattered resistance to what was quickly becoming a secure Macedonian province. Macedon’s irresistible army took the few Athenian forts that were not abandoned outright by their terrified defenders easily. Philip's dominion now extended across Thrace, to the very shores of the Propontus. Only then was he content to return to Pella, where he knew the second Athenian delegation awaited him. He looked forward to the second set of negotiations, although he knew that the thorny treaty exclusions involving Phocis would not be easy to resolve.
The last months had been chaotic ones for the Athenians. Philocrates had reported to the boule and the assembly the terms that Philip had proposed. These terms included his specific exclusions of Phocis, Macedonian anger with Cersobleptes, and Philip's insistence on a formal Athenian-Macedonian alliance, not just a treaty. First the boule, then the assembly members, railed against Philip and his unacceptable exclusions. After only a few debates, members of the peace delegation, except Philocrates, began to reverse themselves. Led by Demosthenes, both Aeschines and Eubulus allowed the debate to stray from what they knew would be acceptable to Philip. War with Macedon seemed probable.
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