The Poison King

by Adrienne Mayor

  Mithradates supplemented his clandestine study of toxicology by stepping up his physical training. Hunting was a perfect excuse for spending time away from the castle. Meanwhile he planned his next move. From his reading of Xenophon’s books, his grounding in myth and history, Mithradates would have known exactly what was required of a young hero whose life was in danger. One day, armed with his bow, dagger, and javelin, the intrepid prince rode out of Sinope’s gates with his most loyal companions. They did not return.

  4

  The Lost Boys

  DREADING that his enemies in the palace would succeed with the sword what they had failed to accomplish with poison,” Mithradates was compelled to protect himself.1 There were only two choices. Young Mithradates could remain in Sinope dominated by his treacherous mother, hoping to survive until he was old enough to wrest power away from her. Or he could take decisive action, the sort of path advocated by Sinope’s philosopher, Diogenes. Mithradates’ destiny, promised by oracles and comets, demanded that he seize the second option.

  In devising a plan, Mithradates could consider the experiences of Cyrus of Persia, Alexander, and Mithradates I, the founder of the Pontic Kingdom. Each had left home and family for a period of time before assuming power. While in exile, these leaders gained wisdom, faithful followers, political clout, and popular favor. The rebel leader Aristonicus had also found refuge and support in the Anatolian heartland.

  Listening to Persian tales of his ancestors and reading Xenophon’s writings, Mithradates could identify with Cyrus the Great, whose enemies had tried to kill him as an infant. At age thirteen, Cyrus left the royal palace at Susa and lived in Media, eventually returning to become ruler of all Persia. In action-packed descriptions of Cyrus’s big-game hunts and other adventures, Xenophon told how the future king of Persia and his friends learned self-reliance and decision making through daring exploits together in the Iranian highlands. In Xenophon’s On Hunting, written for young Greek noblemen, a boy could find exciting anecdotes and practical advice. The experience of hunting together instilled virtue, leadership, and military prowess in adolescent aristocrats. Xenophon not only detailed all the proper clothing, equipment, and methods for chasing game, but the great Greek general declared that excellence in the hunt naturally produced heroic warriors and commanders.

  FIG. 4.1. Youthful Mithradates, marble head (3 inches high) from miniature statue, discovered in 1992 in the temple on the acropolis of Pantikapaion. Zin’ko 2004 and Kerch Museum, “Ancient Sculptures,” Kiev, 2004. Photo courtesy of Jakob Munk Højte.

  Mithradates’ hero Alexander had loved to hunt with his friends—they relaxed by chasing rabbits and weasels and proved their manhood by killing lions and bears. A headstrong, reckless teenager, Alexander was famous for risking danger in both hunting and war. Mithradates surely envied Alexander’s opportunity to go on his own authority to battle at age sixteen, while his father was away. Later, during a family crisis, Alexander summoned his companions and rode off to the wilds of Illyria, in the far west of the Macedonian Empire. There Alexander and his friends lived on their own by hunting. When Alexander’s father was murdered, Alexander had to act quickly to win the trust of the Macedonian army. Ideas for a similar venture, one that would combine hunting with statecraft, began to take form in Mithradates’ mind.2

  According to Justin, Mithradates came up with “a bold plan that called for great resourcefulness and perseverance.” Justin’s account is terse but revealing: beginning in childhood, Mithradates was fixated on survival. On guard against plots, especially poisoning, he fortified himself with antidotes and athletics. After his father’s death, Justin says, Mithradates and some companions disappeared from Sinope. For seven years, they never slept under a roof and survived by hunting, bivouacking in the mountains. The young king built endurance by chasing wild beasts on foot and outrunning them when they turned to attack him. Sometimes, like the Greek superhero Hercules, Mithradates even dared to pit his might against dangerous wild animals by wrestling and killing them bare-handed.3

  Justin is describing exactly the kind of Greco-Persian aristocratic “boy scout” activities encouraged by Xenophon. By these methods, says Justin, Mithradates not only evaded the attempts on his life, but also developed great strength and passed amazing tests of stamina and courage. After seven years away, Justin writes in his concise style, Mithradates returned to Sinope, dealt with his enemies, and began his reign.

  Regrettably, the laconic Justin is our only surviving source for this important period, the time after the assassination of Mithradates’ father in about 120 BC until the beginning of Mithradates’ independent reign in about 115 BC. Because Justin was condensing the lost work of another historian, Trogus, his version omits, conflates, or repeats some events. If only we had Trogus’s original full accounts! Some modern historians, faced with inexact dates, reject Justin’s chronology altogether, pointing out that statues and inscriptions honoring Mithradates and his younger brother were erected in Delos in 116/115 BC, five years after their father’s murder, while Mithradates was supposed to be away from Sinope. But Queen Laodice could easily have erected statues and inscriptions on behalf of the young coheirs, during Mithradates’ absence. Indeed, this would have been a wise propaganda move to counter rumors that the missing prince had been done away with. In response, Mithradates’ supporters might have issued coins featuring his birth comet while he was in exile, as a way to advertise the young king’s destiny and prepare for his eventual return. Both factions had good reasons to publicize his image while Mithradates was absent.4

  It is true that Justin’s “seven years” is a suspiciously mythic number: seven often stands for “several years” in folklore contexts. Stripped of the folkloric flourishes, however, Justin’s account is neither sensational nor illogical. There is nothing incredible about the idea that Mithradates disappeared after his father’s murder. He faced real peril in Sinope: there are many examples of murdered royal children in this era. There is no reason to doubt that the crown prince departed with some companions in the manner described by Justin (and perhaps detailed by Trogus). We cannot know exactly how long Mithradates was actually away, but four or five years is a reasonable interval.5

  How did Mithradates organize his escape? What happened during the most mysterious period of Mithradates’ life, the years between his father’s murder and the day that Mithradates returned to power? What follows is a plausible scenario for how Mithradates’ self-imposed exile might have unfolded, based on known facts and informed speculation.

  THE PLAN

  The journey was not a spontaneous lark but would have required months of meticulous planning. A secretive, creative, and daring youngster, sure of his place in history, Mithradates thought up a strategy that recapitulated episodes from the lives of his heroes and incorporated his love of the hunt. The royal heir of Pontus was surrounded by close friends his own age and a little older, including some noblemen in their twenties. This circle of comrades replicated the elite retinues that had surrounded Alexander and Cyrus.

  Mithradates’ best friend Dorylaus helped with logistics. His life was threatened too. As the nephew of the murdered king’s general Dorylaus, young Dorylaus would have been targeted by the conspirators in the palace. We can imagine the two boys whispering late into the night, deciding who among their schoolmates could be trusted to accompany them. Mithradates’ spoiled little brother, Mithradates the Good, was not included. From inscriptions on portrait busts found in Delos, we have the names of some of Mithradates’ closest associates in his early reign. Some may have been members of his youthful entourage, such as Gaius son of Hermaeus, and Diophantus son of Mithares, and Gordius, the Cappadocian who became Mithradates’ special envoy.

  The runaways expected to keep on the move for some years, until they felt strong enough to seize victory. Too large a group might attract attention. A group of eight or ten could efficiently hunt and provide for themselves. Mithradates must have radiated confidence and intellect
by age fourteen or fifteen, to have such devoted companions who agreed to follow him in exile. Impelled by friendship and adventure, they could also hope for great rewards. They knew that Alexander’s companions had inherited his kingdom. The incentive for Mithradates and Dorylaus was powerful: they were running for their lives.

  Now, with the plan roughly plotted out, Mithradates talked incessantly about hunting; Justin tells us he “feigned a great passion for the hunt” before he disappeared. His band stayed away longer on each outing, without drawing suspicion. Maybe the group cached provisions and coins in secure outposts during forays before the big day. The young king could requisition extra horses from the royal stable for an extended hunting trip. After all, hunting was his favorite activity, an obsession really. I imagine that Mithradates and his friends were prepared to depart by 118/117 BC. Mithradates could portray the expedition as a special occasion to celebrate his sixteenth birthday and his first year as the boy-king of Pontus.

  As Mithradates and his companions rode out after his birthday banquet that spring, each wore practical hunting attire of subdued colors, as recommended by Xenophon—no bright white or purple! The young men wore dun-colored tunics, hats, short woolen cloaks, and high leather boots; some wore Persian trousers, like Mithradates. Their leader was distinguished by his simple diadem and a heavy gold signet ring with the royal seal of Pontus. Each boy took a pair of javelins, staff and cudgel, bow and arrows, sword and dagger. Favorite hounds trotted alongside the pack horses loaded with bedding, nets for big game, cups and utensils, personal items such as musical instruments, gaming pieces, fishing hooks and line, and best-loved books. Each adventurer carried a leather pouch bulging with coins for necessities and food, and to reward citizens of Pontus. Money would also be needed for temple dedications.6

  Mithradates could procure a map of Pontus, and information about mountain ranges, rivers, and springs; towns and villages, fortifications, temple precincts; royal highways, minor roads, and trails over mountain passes.7 The group had long ago scouted out their first campsite, a full day’s ride away. The boys bid casual farewells to families and friends, acting as though they would soon return, but knowing they would not see them again for several years—if ever.

  MAP 4.1. The Kingdom of Pontus. Map by Michele Angel.

  OUTWARD BOUND

  At sunrise, the band set out south from Sinope’s gates, taking the middle fork over the hills to the Amnias River valley. The west fork headed along the rocky coast to the tiny coves of Paphlagonia; the east route followed the coast to Amisus. The mountains and valleys of Anatolia run east-west. Crossing the foothills, the hunting party forded the Amnias and turned their horses southeast on the old Persian road along the Halys River. On the riders’ right rose heavily forested mountains with good campsites, pure water, and excellent hunting. But they would not linger within reach of Sinope. Crossing the stone bridge over the Halys, the riders continued past small villages along the ancient road. The first nights were filled with excitement tinged with anxiety at the enormity of their mission.

  The conversation might have turned to poisons as the group bypassed the road to the fortress guarding Mount Realgar Mine, where slaves dropped dead from inhaling the grievous fumes of Sinopic red earth. This deadly substance—arsenic—was probably what killed their king, Euergetes. Mithradates intended to continue his toxicological studies, looking forward to testing new pharmaka in the field. To live long enough to attain all the ambitious goals he had set for himself, he needed to perfect his antidote.

  But first, keeping in mind Alexander’s first move after the assassination of his father, Mithradates understood how vital it was to win the trust of his father’s military commanders in the kingdom. Many might regard him as the puppet of his powerful mother, unlikely to live to celebrate his twentieth birthday. He had to send a strong signal to Pontus’s armies to assure them that Mithradates VI Eupator was now their leader in fact as well as name. He must convince them that he had a real strategy for regaining power in Sinope. They needed to know that Mithradates would bring glory to the kingdom and wealth and victory to its warriors.

  In the first century BC, Pontus and the other eastern territories of Anatolia resembled a medieval feudal landscape. A system of roads connected major cities; minor routes linked villages, temple lands, and hereditary estates; and there were many horse trails and footpaths. Castles and strongholds guarded strategic locales. Mithradates’ logical first goal would have been the citadel of Amasia, about 150 miles from Sinope.

  At the next major crossroads, Mithradates’ party reached the Iris River and a well-known spa called Phazemon, where the travelers made dedications to the healing god Asclepius and to the lovely nymphs who were said to frolic in the warm springs. Refreshed after relaxing in the medicinal baths, the young riders continued to Amasia.There was no reason to avoid the main roads; they were not yet missed in Sinope. Near Amasia, they ascended the hilltop Temple of Zeus Stratios (leader of armies), where Mithradates had often watched his father perform fire sacrifices at the high altar (Mithradatids worshipped Zeus as a form of Ahuramazda/ Mithra). Perhaps Mithradates himself now performed the ceremony for the first time. The ruins of this altar, with inscriptions dedicated to Zeus, are still visible today.8

  Queen Laodice’s power lay within the palace at Sinope and perhaps extended to a few nearby towns. Mithradates’ father’s friends and troops still controlled the fortifications of Pontus; they would welcome Mithradates and his companions. The citizens of the chora (countryside) were faithful to the murdered king and his son, and Amasia was the home of Dorylaus’s family. The historian Strabo lavished praise on the beauty and strategic position of his native Amasia, the former capital (the royal residence was moved to Sinope in about 183 BC). The fertile valleys of the chora were famous for fruit and grain, and rich silver mines lay to the northwest.

  Amasia was guarded by an impregnable fortress perched on twin peaks connected by a natural rock bridge. Subterranean staircases and several secret reservoirs enabled the fort to withstand long sieges (these features can be seen today in the ruins at Amasia). When Mithradates and his company arrived, the soldiers showed the king these secret passages and water tanks, and outlying watchtowers that communicated with Fortress Amasia. This was just the sort of valuable knowledge Mithradates needed to have as commander of Pontus’s armies.9

  Writing a few decades after the death of Mithradates, Strabo visited all of the old Mithradatic strongholds. He climbed up to the ancient stone tower at Sagylion in the chora of Amasia, overlooking the hot springs. This tower, noted Strabo, contained yet another large reservoir, once “very useful to the kings of Pontus.” By Strabo’s day, however, all of Mithradates’ secret cisterns were bone dry, choked with huge boulders on the orders of Pompey the Great after the end of the Mithradatic Wars.10

  But on that fresh spring day in 117 BC, the fragrance of apple blossoms on the breeze, Mithradates and his friends ascended Sagylion Tower and Amasia’s walls to inspect the fortifications and admire the view. From the bracing heights north of Amasia, they could gaze down on the treeless plain around Lake Stephane some miles away. By the lake, one could make out Laodicea, founded by Mithradates’ mother after his father’s murder. She had accepted Roman loans—money from slavery and taxes bled from Anatolia—to build an extravagant lakeside villa and Castle Icizari on a limestone bluff. As he surveyed the scene, Mithradates could not suppress a grin. His mother had located her castle based on proximity to the hot springs and the pretty lake. She was thinking of ease of travel and entertaining, instead of a defensible location.

  FIG. 4.2. Amasia, former capital of Pontus. Ruins of the Mithradatic fortress are visible atop the peaks, high above the Iris River. Engraving, Taylor, 1884, courtesy of F. Dechow.

  FIG. 4.3. Ruins of Amasia’s fortifications on the peaks above the Iris River. Photo courtesy of Dick Osseman, 2007.

  After the end of the Mithradatic Wars, Strabo visited Lake Stephane, reporting it to be jumping w
ith fat fish. But Strabo found Laodice’s fine palace a pile of rubble, overgrown with vines, surrounded by fields of grain. Her castle was deserted, but still standing. Today one can still see Castle Icizari (Kizari) near the village that retains her name in Turkish, Ladik. Archaeologists have discovered bronze coins here, engraved with Laodice’s name, issued during Mithradates’ absence. These finds and other coins stamped with her name and portrait, along with the star-and-crescent emblem of Pontus, indicate that Laodice considered herself the legitimate sovereign of Pontus. Some historians suggest that she intended Laodicea to be the new capital of Pontus.11

  Mithradates avoided this region controlled by his mother. But the rest of Pontus was dotted with hundreds of other strongholds, fortresses, towers, and guard stations manned by loyalists and “nobles of ancient Persian stock ruling their secluded fiefs from craggy castles deep in the forest.”12 They would welcome Mithradates as their chieftain and supply provisions and new horses. Mithradates meant to visit as many fortifications as possible, to win support throughout his kingdom. It was also imperative to claim Mithradatic treasures and arrange to safeguard the gold and silver that his father had stored in these isolated castles over the years. Gaining the trust of the garrison at Amasia, Mithradates would receive travel information and more detailed military briefings about secret treasuries, armories, and lesser-known routes over the mountains.

  If reports of the Romans’ activities reached Amasia, he must have agonized over their imperial designs on western Anatolia and his mother’s acquiescence. Laodice allowed the Romans to take away Greater Phrygia, which the Roman Senate had presented to his father after the rebellion of Aristonicus and the Sun Citizens. In about 116 BC, while Mithradates was in exile, a party of ten Roman officials arrived in Sinope to arrange the takeover of this new province. Queen Laodice withdrew the Pontic army from Phrygia and disbanded the kingdom’s forces. She also advised her daughter, Laodice the Elder, queen of Cappadocia, to ally with Rome. His mother was selling out the great accomplishments of the reign of Mithradates’ father.13