Storms over Babylon

by Jennifer Macaire

  He moved silently. I never heard him. He grasped my shoulders before I even knew he was behind me. ‘Tell me,’ he commanded.

  His body pressed against mine and I felt the familiar spark of attraction working again. How easy it would be to turn and find myself facing him, his chin level with my forehead. He was not much taller than I. He was built lightly, like a dancer. My bones were shaking. ‘I can’t.’

  ‘Not until I’m on my deathbed.’ It was said lightly, but his grip tightened on my arms. ‘When will that be?’

  ‘Soon, Plexis.’ It was a whisper. Now my nose was bleeding .

  He turned me around and cupped my face in his hands. His hazel eyes were full of pity. ‘I never envied you your knowledge,’ he said.

  ‘And I never envied you your own gift,’ I said. ‘You know, don’t you, what I’m trying to tell you?’

  ‘Iskander came to me before I left.’ He pulled me to him. The blood on my face left scarlet ribbons on his shoulder. He smoothed my hair, leaving a trail of blood in that too. Suddenly my knees gave away. Everything was red, everything was covered with blood. I was crying tears of blood, drowning in a river of it.

  It was nothing but a vision, brought on by the stress and the faint. Plexis carried me to his bed and he took soft linen to clean my face.

  ‘What do you want to do?’ I asked him.

  He leaned down and kissed me. ‘I want to make love to you one last time. Will you let me? Please?’

  ‘No.’ My voice broke. He looked at me, surprised. ‘I want to know what you understood. I want to hear what Alexander said, and I want to know if you really want it to be the last time. Oh, Plexis, I can’t bear it!’ I curled up on my side and sobbed.

  His breathing was even, light, his eyes sad. His face was pale in the blue light. Somehow, he’d found a lamp like the one we used to have in our tent. He looked like he was underwater in the blue-green light. His mouth, with its deep curls at the corners and the full lips, was serious. His expression, usually so puckish, was grave now.

  He laid a hand on my breast. ‘He told me that I would die soon but, that you might be able to cheat fate. He said that perhaps you would speak to me. He wasn’t sure. He thought maybe you would rather watch and see what happens. He said that if I did live, I would have to give up everything and disappear.’ A faint grin made a dimple appear. I stared at it; I’d never noticed it before. ‘I didn’t know that I could just disappear,’ he said, conversationally. ‘I thought it would be difficult to become invisible.’

  ‘Don’t be facetious,’ I murmured.

  ‘That’s what Iskander said.’ His dimple deepened then vanished. He laid his head on my breast, his hand sliding down to my waist, then dipping between my legs. I gasped involuntarily and my back arched. ‘I’m not sure I want to disappear.’ His mouth found my nipple. He stroked me, gently, until my breathing was as harsh as his had become. ‘I don’t want to talk anymore,’ he said, and he rolled onto me, claiming me with his body. I closed my eyes. Plexis would always have the ability to make me forget my pains, my hurt, and myself. That was his gift. That, and the ability to see into the shadows that normally only the sibyls could pierce.

  My gift was that I could make him lose himself. He hung back, but I could pull him with me over the edge. I bit his shoulder hard enough to make him cry out, and our lovemaking degenerated into a tussle that flung us off the bed and across the rug. The table tipped and the flowers fell over us in a shower of yellow and white petals. The smell of the fragrant blossoms, crushed under our straining bodies, mingled with our soft cries. I felt the wave cresting and I arched up to meet it. Plexis bowed his head into me and we met in the middle. There was a clap of thunder. I wasn’t even sure where I was until I opened my eyes. The rain was rushing in the open tent flap, and Drypetis was standing, staring at us, her face a frozen mask of horror.

  I looked up at Plexis. His chest and shoulder were smeared with blood from my nose. His face was perfectly blank. I couldn’t tell if he was horrified or furious. Or totally destroyed.

  There was nothing I could say. It wasn’t his fault she’d come back to get her amulet – the one that would protect her from demons. And it wasn’t her fault that a woman could be killed if she was unfaithful to her husband, and that kings’ wives were taboo. Nobody had the right to touch me. In her eyes, her new husband and I had committed a heinous crime.

  She opened her mouth to scream and Plexis acted without thinking. If the guards were called, if they came in and found us, they would kill me first. Then Plexis would be tortured and killed. He had no choice. He leaped at her, grabbed her around the waist, and cupped his hand over her mouth. ‘Will you promise not to scream?’ he asked.

  She nodded, her pupils huge. As soon as he let her go, she backed away from him as if he were a huge, hairy spider.

  I reached towards her but she spat at me. ‘How could you? You are Iskander’s wife!’ She clapped her hands over her own mouth. ‘You deserve to die!’ Her eyes were hard as black stones. I couldn’t believe I’d ever thought of them as soft black velvet.

  ‘I won’t die if you say nothing,’ I said warily.

  ‘I said you deserve to die.’ She wiped at her face now, as if to scrape off the imprint of Plexis’s hands. ‘So do you,’ she said to her husband. ‘How could you? How could you touch Iskander’s wife? How could you dare?’

  ‘What will you do?’ I asked carefully.

  She was breathing in great gulps. Her mouth was twisted with a mixture of fury and fear. Then she hissed, ‘Roxanne warned me to watch out for you. She said you had ruined her marriage and she told me you would try to do the same for mine.’

  ‘I didn’t ruin anything,’ I said desperately. ‘Iskander never loved Roxanne but Plexis loves you. Don’t throw that away. Please, listen …’

  ‘From what I can see, it is not the first time,’ she said.

  I stared at her distrustfully. Suddenly she took a deep breath, as if to scream. I don’t know if she meant to call the guards but Plexis thought so. He clamped his hands over her mouth again. She struggled and kicked, shaking her head back and forth, her cries muffled. Finally he uttered an oath and cuffed her on the side of the head. Her eyes rolled up and she slumped to the ground. Plexis knelt by her, stroking her cheek. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

  ‘Is she all right?’

  ‘Yes. She’ll wake up with a headache, that’s all.’ His voice was a whisper.

  ‘Plexis, I’m sorry.’ I was breathing hard, as if I’d been running very fast. ‘I seem to be able to ruin your life in an instant. And Iskander’s too. I ruined his life for him. I wrecked his future. That’s what he told me. That I’d made the future a cold, dark place.’ I looked up at him. My nose bled slowly, dripping down my chin. ‘I’m a curse,’ I said.

  Plexis gaped at me. Then he crossed the tent and took my arm. ‘You’re not. I promise. But you mustn’t be found here. It’s too dangerous. I don’t know what came over me; we’ve been too long with the army. Leave, please, just go. I’ll deal with Drypetis.’

  I shook my head. ‘No. I won’t let anything happen to you. Maybe it will be better if I am killed. Then, when you and Iskander die we can all be together again.’ My voice was shrill.

  ‘Shh, hush. Listen, I know what you were trying to tell me. I’m not very good with things I don’t understand. Like women. Give me a horse any day. However, I have Chiron to think of. And Iskander. Let us wait until he comes and we’ll talk, just the three of us. But until then, you will go back to your tent.’

  ‘I told Iskander that I loved you as much as I loved him,’ I said.

  ‘You did?’ He smiled faintly. Then he looked down at Drypetis, lying on the floor, her hair spread out in a black cloud around her face. ‘I was infatuated with my wife,’ he sighed. ‘I thought that I would grow old surrounded by my children and on late winter evenings I would lean back in my bed and remember my love affair with the Goddess, and those thoughts would warm my bones and comfort me
.’ He took my hand and pressed it to his lips. ‘I love you, but I never told you. I’m sorry.’

  ‘I know you loved me,’ I said sadly.

  ‘I still do.’ He moved into my arms and pressed my cheek to his chest. ‘I will listen to you when the time comes, if you wish.’ His body trembled against mine and I closed my eyes.

  ‘I want to have you near me always,’ I said. ‘I’d better go, she’s waking up.’

  He kissed me before I left and he said, ‘I’m sorry I said anything about making love for the last time. I was wrong.’ He smiled and there were sudden tears in his amber eyes. ‘Did you tell Iskander you loved me as much as you love him?’

  ‘I did, and I meant it.’

  He grinned crookedly as I left, pulling the cloak over my head. In the storm nobody saw me, or if they did, they assumed it was Axiom.

  Chapter Seven

  The rest of the voyage passed quietly. It lasted only three more days and Drypetis was silent for the whole time. She was suffering from shock. It wasn’t her fault, and it wasn’t that she minded Plexis making love with another woman. He could take more wives if he wished. Under Persian law, polygamy was allowed, and she had been raised in a harem. Plexis was Greek. He would never have taken another wife. What had shocked Drypetis was the crime he’d committed, a crime punishable by death. When we got to Ecbatana, she went straight to the women’s quarters without asking to see Plexis. Sisygambis noticed. She noticed everything. Sis went to see Drypetis, who told her grandmother about Plexis and me.

  The nice thing about Ecbatana was the women’s palace. Instead of being small suites of rooms, like in Suze, here the women had a huge building for themselves. It held a garden as big as a park, with sparkling fountains, thousands of flowers and colourful, squawking parrots. I’d been in the palace for two days before Sisygambis, or Sis as she liked to be called, paid me a visit.

  I was in my bath when Sis found me. I had a huge, sunken marble bathtub full of warm water and rose petals. Chiron was splashing and playing with a wooden boat that Plexis had made for him. In a week, he would be three years old. He had been born in the Hindu-Kusch, had travelled to India, and crossed the desert to Persia. A real explorer. I smiled at him, and pushed the boat back in his direction.

  ‘Hello, Ashley.’ It was Sis. She stood uncertainly in the doorway, her hands clasped in front of her. It was so unlike her to appear unsure of herself, that I knew right away what it was about.

  ‘I’ll be right with you,’ I said. I motioned to one of the slave girls, and she brought me a robe. I gave Chiron to Axiom, and then I braided my hair as Sis and I walked towards the balcony. We could speak privately there.

  When we were seated on a low bench with a tray of cool lemonade set in front of us, Sis cleared her throat.

  ‘My dear, I don’t want to seem disapproving. However, you must never see Hephaestion again. Drypetis wants to tell Iskander everything, and I managed to persuade her that it was unnecessary. She would lose a husband, and you would lose your life.’

  ‘But Sis,’ I said with a smile. ‘Alexander doesn’t mind.’

  She looked at me, her mouth a perfect “O”. Then she nodded her head quickly, which meant “No”. ‘Of course you don’t know what you’re saying. However, I will try to make this absolutely clear. You are pregnant. You have been unfaithful. By our laws you should die. Nevertheless, I will protect you. Drypetis will say nothing. Not even to Roxanne.’

  I gave a strangled gasp. ‘If you love Iskander even a little,’ I said, ‘never, ever let Roxanne know. She will—’ I broke off, not sure how much I could say.

  Sis patted my hand. ‘I do love Iskander. That’s why I will try to save your life. And I love Drypetis, so I will save Hephaestion’s life. You will stay in your quarters until your baby is born. Then you will be sent to join Iskander wherever he may be. He will give orders when he gets here.’

  ‘Will I see him when he arrives?’ I asked, growing panic making a hard lump in my throat.

  ‘If he asks for you. And child, we must get rid of Axiom. Everyone knows he’s not really a eunuch. Why didn’t you take only Brazza? Furthermore, I meant what I said about staying in your quarters. You may not walk around the palace anymore. You’ve upset Drypetis so much she’s in danger of losing her baby.’ Her face was kind, she meant well.

  I felt my sanity starting to slip. Alone here until my baby was born? Alexander would be dead by then! If I could never see Plexis again, how could I save him? He would die before I could even try to save him. What about Paul? If Alexander and Plexis died, who would protect him? My panic started a nosebleed, which frightened Sis.

  ‘By Ishtar! Another prophecy!’ she shrieked.

  It was the best thing that could have happened. I closed my eyes and stood up. In a deep voice I intoned, ‘You will leave Axiom here. He protects Iskander’s child. Ashley must be allowed to leave her quarters. Demeter’s daughter may not be kept like a beast in a cage, no matter how lovely the cage. The goddess has spoken.’

  I sat down and then gave a huge start, pretending to wake up. ‘Did I say something?’ I asked, blinking and looking around as if confused. I put my hand to me face and stared at the blood. ‘Oh! My mother, Demeter, has sent another message! What did she say this time?’

  Sis was green. For the people of that time, the gods and goddesses were just a hair’s breadth away from reality. They could appear any minute. There were regular sightings, quite like the UFOs in my time. The gods could come to earth and make love to girls. I imagined a few unexpected pregnancies were hastily explained in this fashion. The resulting baby was given the best of care. Priests and priestesses spoke to gods regularly, and the sibyls in their smoky oracles conversed with Apollo. It was an interesting time to live. The people were like five-year-olds believing in Santa Claus. They really believed. And when the five-year-old sees Santa sitting in the mall, surrounded by plastic reindeer and fake snow, does the five-year-old doubt? No, he does not. Depending on his mettle he either shrieks with joy or screams in panic, and that’s how the people here reacted to the gods.

  Sis panicked before the gods. Many down-to-earth people who pride themselves on their common sense lose it when confronted with the supernatural. Axiom stayed with me. I could walk around the women’s palace as I pleased.

  I asked Axiom to get me three things: a black wig, men’s robes, and a pair of scissors.

  I cut off my shining hair. It had been growing for ten years and had reached my waist. It was a shimmering, silky waterfall of pure platinum, and far too easy to spot. I braided it and made it into a hairpiece. I didn’t want anyone to know I’d cut it off.

  I dressed in men’s robes, put on the black wig, and used charcoal to make a rough sort of five o’clock shadow on my cheeks. Very dashing. Axiom closed his eyes and prayed to his one god to spare me.

  Nobody was watching the window from where I escaped. It wasn’t a very important one. The windows in my rooms were watched by guards day and night, but I’d discovered a long-forgotten window behind a thicket of jasmine. The garden had grown up so luxuriously that some parts were hidden from sight, and no one bothered with them. The palace itself was so vast that it was surrounded by a myriad of streets. Some were big, and some, like the one outside this window, were nothing but glorified alleyways. Somehow, Axiom had procured a ladder, and he held it while I clambered down to the street. Then I pushed the ladder behind the vines growing up the wall and waved cheerfully to Axiom.

  I straightened my robes and made sure my wig was set firmly on my head. Thankfully, Persian men wore more clothes than the Greeks. The Greeks walked around nude most of the time, or with short capes slung over their shoulders. Very sexy, but impractical for a woman impersonating a man. Here in Persia the robes were voluminous, down to the ankles, and the men wore funny hats. I’m serious. Any hat that looked bizarre was considered ‘chic’. Turbans, cone-hats, flat discs, wide brimmed hats, well, you name it. If it looked odd, it was great. I had a blue silk turba
n. It was like a giant mushroom on my head.

  Ecbatana was lovely. The largest buildings were made of pink stone and brick, with charmingly painted murals. Trees shaded the streets. The city was set up with the palaces in the centre. The marketplace formed a large rectangle built on the banks of a small river. Boats carried all sorts of produce to and from the city. It was also an important caravan stop, and the market was a huge, sprawling affair.

  I bought a handful of dates and nibbled on them as I wandered around. I loved markets, and this one was one of the best I’d ever seen. Surrounding it were different sized temples, one for each god in the Persian pantheon. Some temples were big, elaborate buildings, and some were small, unimposing huts – depending on the importance of the god it housed. In the huge square, set up in straggly lines, were hundreds of small stands with merchants loudly hawking their wares. Small fountains cooled parched throats. Brightly coloured awnings gave ample shade, and four wide avenues led from the market to the four sides of the walled city.

  I strolled along the brick walkway following the river. Stairs led to the water where boats were tied to iron rings, and where traders sat on their boats and sold everything from apples to zebra skins. Apples were common, while zebra skins were very rare and exceedingly expensive.

  The tall buildings along the waterfront were beautiful. They were painted deep rose with blue and yellow trim. Potted palms grew on balconies, the rooftops were silver-plated, and flowers were everywhere. The city was prosperous and peaceful. Its noises were comforting; there were the loud cries of the merchants advertising their wares, the high voices of women fetching water in earthenware jugs, the shrieks and laughter of children, dogs barking, and the bright chatter of people bargaining for goods.