Alexander the King

by Peter Messmore

  Olympias remained at the garden vista overlooking the lake until the edge of the storm began dampening her chiton. She then made her way back to the palace before the storm’s fury broke, where Altious met her. Three other priests carrying the dead body of Cleopatra-Eurydice followed the priest. The storm’s continuous thunderclaps were deafening and made normal conversation difficult.

  “How did she do it?” Olympias yelled.

  “She used one of Philip’s purple sashes to hang herself,” the priest answered. “We didn’t know she had anything of his left. It must have been hidden in her clothing.”

  “Is her neck broken? She hasn’t just passed out has she?”

  “We checked her, she’s not breathing. She’s dead,” the priest said. “Cremate her before Alexander returns. Keep her bones after cleaning so Alexander can see that no one can ever challenge him.”

  “It will be done,” the priest answered obediently.

  Olympias, now serene and fully recovered, walked toward her bedchamber. The closer she got to her bedroom the more acrid the lingering smell of the children’s burning bodies became. When she entered the room, the air was still stifling.

  Slaves were ordered in and the Queen Mother commanded them to begin scrubbing the ceiling, walls, and floor. Incense and expensive oils were burned that day and into the night, only slightly helping the room to return to its normal, cold-stone smell.

  The room’s cleansing continued for two days until finally, Olympias’ bedroom suite was again inhabitable.

  In the next week, Olympias offered prayers to her gods that Alexander wouldn’t smell the hideous smell upon entering the palace. She wanted him in a good mood when she told him the great favors that she had done for him.

  ≈

  “What’s that obnoxious smell in here?” Alexander yelled as he entered the throne room. “Have the lake frogs invaded my domain along with the Illyrians?”

  His palace attendants remained silent, looking at the pebble-mosaic floor. Before he could berate them for their silence, Olympias joined the king and his entourage. She beamed with joy at her son’s return and walked up to him. Almost half a head taller than her victorious son, Olympias hugged him warmly, placing a delicate kiss on his forehead.

  “We need privacy,” she whispered. Her expression changed.

  “Leave us,” Alexander commanded his companions. “Hephaestion, I’ll see you when I finish with mother. Go to Antipater and get the latest dispatches from our garrison in Thebes. They’ll need our help soon.”

  Hephaestion followed the other companions out of the throne room, and the king and Olympias walked to a large sofa along the wall. Mother and son were united and alone. “Did you follow my instructions, mother? Is Caranus dead?”

  “The boy, his sister, and their mother stopped living a week ago, Alexander.” She waited for her son’s reaction. It was immediate.

  “I told you to eliminate only Caranus!” Alexander yelled as he leaped from his sofa. “Why did you kill the others? Have you forgotten how to read? Couldn’t you figure out the code?” His face was red, his fists clenched.

  “Cleopatra-Eurydice would never have rested until she toppled you, son. Don’t you understand that? She had to die. My priests discovered a plot that she was hatching against both of us. Europa died because she was part of the problem. Little girls grow up to be troublesome women.”

  Alexander heard his mother’s words but refused to be calmed. Still furious, he reasoned that she just might be right. He would soon cause the death of Amyntas, Philip’s brother’s last son. It probably would happen that very afternoon. His motivation would be identical to his mother’s. What is the difference between what she had done and what he was about to do?

  Alexander forced himself to calm down. He took a deep breath, and then stared hard at his waiting mother. “There are two issues here. The first is killing three people who probably would have been killed or banished anyway. That I can tolerate, though I am not pleased with you. However, the second is the affront of you disobeying my orders. Even though I’m your son, you are my subject. Kings kill subjects for disobeying direct orders! Do you understand that?” The king of Macedon was yelling again.

  Olympias allowed silence to absorb her son’s fury. Then she took his hands and projected an innocent, almost coquettish look of contrition. She knew it still worked on men, even on her son.

  “Of course, you’re right; I’ll never take such drastic action again without consulting you. I understand how it could cause you harm or embarrassment.” She spoke softly, with her eyes averted.

  Olympias’ repentant response was exactly what Alexander wanted and needed. The mother knew the son. He left her standing in the middle of the throne room and walked to the balcony overlooking Lake Loudias. Two days of rain had made the muddy lake even more turbid. It was silting fast, and he wondered how much longer ocean-going triremes would be able to navigate its diminishing depths.

  He allowed the late summer breeze to fill his lungs, and then returned to Olympias. “You speak one way but think another, mother. You always will. If you ever again take such foolish action without my knowledge and approval, I’ll send you to a religious shrine in the hinterland. You’ll never be allowed in Pella again. Is that understood?”

  “It’s perfectly clear,” his mother said.

  “I assume you had all three of them cremated. Where are their bones?”

  “The children’s remains have already been scattered in the countryside. Their mother’s bones will be cleansed by evening. I intend to scatter hers as well.”

  “You’re out of this ghastly mess from now on, mother. Have Cleopatra-Eurydice’s washed bones brought to me before nightfall. I’ll finish the episode. Leave me now! I want to be alone.”

  Olympias started to leave, and then looked back at her son sitting sideways on the throne of Macedon. “I’m going to the Temple of Heracles, your ancestor,” she said with a serious look on her face. “Offerings will be made to protect you in the months ahead. You will wear his holy mantle as your majesty grows.”

  “Pray that you’re forgiven for what you did, mother. My army and cavalry will take care of my majesty. Now leave!”

  ≈

  The king sat alone in Macedon’s ancient throne room for most of the morning. Scores of conflicting emotions swept over him and his spirit was troubled. Soon he would give the command to eliminate Amyntas. How am I different from mother? he asked himself a second time. Only in degree, he answered silently. He would soon leave Pella and had to be sure that his homeland problems were eliminated. There was no other choice. As he would do during the remainder of his life, he was acting out a role that had been preordained by Zeus-Ammon, by Olympias, even by Philip.

  Suddenly, he jumped from the throne and called for his guard. The guard was to give Hephaestion a deadly message: “Lead an armed party to get Amyntas. Kill him immediately and then cremate his body outside the city. Ensure that no evidence of his remains will ever be found.”

  The king then went to the baths, where he remained while the time-honored Macedonian way of dealing with rivals was carried out. He knew Hephaestion would join him there and inform him that he no longer had any rivals inside Macedon. It had to be.

  ≈

  Alexander’s prediction didn’t take long. Thebes was the first polis to rebel against the new Macedonian-dominated confederation. When two Macedonian garrison captains were caught outside the safety of the Cadmea citadel, Thebans, using arms supplied by Athens, set upon them. Both officers were killed and the city rose up against the Macedonian garrison. In days, the Cadmea was partially surrounded and a siege started. The humiliated Thebans planned to starve out the occupiers of their sacred citadel.

  Other Greek city-states quickly joined the insurrection against Macedonian domination. The Arcadians in the Peloponnese raised an army with the gold that Darius provided Demosthenes and began to march toward the isthmus connecting the two parts of Greece. Riots and rebellions b
roke out in Aetolia and in far off Elis. Hopes of independence spread wildly throughout Greece, and patriots were heard in every agora, haranguing against the Macedonian barbarians.

  Demosthenes was pleased but knew he was treading on loose earth. He knew Alexander wasn’t dead. Three agents he had planted in Philip’s inner circle years ago had all sent secret word to him. They related that they were with Alexander in Illyria, nearly a month after he was supposed to have been killed in Thrace. One of the agents had nearly been discovered by Hephaestion and had just fled to Athens. The traitor had been richly rewarded by Demosthenes for his efforts, and now walked with the orator in the courtyard of his comfortable home.

  “What will Alexander do now?” Demosthenes asked the former Macedonian officer.

  “I’m sure he’ll race to Thebes. He’ll not be gentle with them.”

  “How long do I have to rally the poleis before his army destroys them? Is his rear secure enough that he can risk a major assault into central Greece now?”

  “He has done more in less time than any of us thought possible. Even Philip didn’t press his army to march such distances in mere days. Don’t underestimate him. I did, and it nearly cost me my life.”

  Demosthenes lifted his head and gazed toward a grove of trees surrounding his home. A sweet smell from their blossoms filled the air. “Is there any chance of our assassination plot succeeding, now that you have fled?”

  “The network we established has surely been discovered by now. Hephaestion was closing in on me when I fled. I’m sure your two other spies have been detected and executed. Hephaestion isn’t very bright, but he is completely devoted to Alexander. He won’t let anyone near him that he doesn’t trust fully. My discovery alerted them to the plot. You’ll never get to him now. Alexander will have to be killed on the battlefield. His inner and outer security circles are impenetrable.”

  Demosthenes was furious that his agents, men he had long cultivated and rewarded, had been neutralized. They had been originally set in place through the cooperation of Olympias, when she had planned Philip’s death. Evidence from another source had just come to his attention that it was she who had alerted Hephaestion to the presence of Demosthenes’ three operatives. Olympias was as much his enemy now as was Alexander. Briefly, he considered mounting an effort to kill her, but realized that she would receive as much protection now as her son. The many assurances that he had given Darius’ agents in Athens that Alexander would be eliminated before the end of the year would not be received gently in Persia if Alexander remained alive. Events were getting out of hand. He knew Athens couldn’t confront Alexander alone. He would be lucky if he could rally enough city-states to mount another decisive battle against the Macedonians. Soon the source of so many of his operations against the new Macedonian king could be in jeopardy.

  “How can we establish new spy networks?” he asked the waiting defector. “What is Alexander’s weakness?”

  “Philip bankrupted the country during his reign, Demosthenes. That’s Alexander’s greatest problem. He’s in arrears paying his soldiers. Only the spoils of sacked cities and the grubby property of primitive barbarians north of Macedonia have rewarded them. They’ll not follow him long unless he finds new money. The expeditionary force in the Troad continues to drain gold from the mines of Mount Pangaeus. An engineer who spent a year in dirty Crenides told me that the mines there are almost exhausted. If you can cut off Alexander’s ability to generate new sources of revenue, you’ll stop him.”

  Demosthenes brightened. He knew little about financial matters or how gold was mined. Most of his income over the years had come from his modest arms factory and large bribes from two Persian Great Kings. However, the traitor’s suggestion to wage economic warfare against Alexander was an interesting one. Athens was still a formidable economic power in the Aegean. If Alexander’s military zeal could be dissipated through protracted skirmishes with several Greek poleis, perhaps he would fall from his own over-aggressiveness.

  A plan started to evolve in the orator’s cunning mind. He would urge Darius’ agents to plead with the Great King to let Parmenio retain his precarious foothold in the Troad. The strategy would be to enervate the Macedonian economy by drawing off resources that they simply could not replace. Demosthenes would work in the boule to do the same thing with Alexander’s army in Greece. If the dual economic sapping could be maintained for half a year, Alexander’s power would erode. Then a resurgent Athens could lead a unified Greek army against the boy-king and drive him back to his primitive homeland.

  Demosthenes dismissed his agent and left his home to visit Eubulus, Athens’ brilliant Minister of Finance. He wanted to learn more about economics. His plan called for Eubulus to help him achieve what no army had yet been able to do: crush the murdering hordes of Macedonians that held Greece in their deadly grip.

  CHAPTER 4

  DARIUS

  Persia’s new Great King, Codomannus, was a huge man, a full one third of a human body taller than Alexander of Macedon. Codomannus had ascended to the peacock throne after Grand Vizier Bagoas poisoned his predecessor, Great King Artaxerxes Ochus. Bagoas had then selected Ochus’ young, inept son, Arses, to rule the empire. Soon, Bagoas had poisoned Arses too and selected a little known member of the Achaemenid royal family, Codomannus, to become Great King.

  Codomannus took the name Darius III. He was 45 when he ascended to the throne, only a few months before Philip was assassinated. Bagoas was certain that he could control the former satrap of mountainous Armenia. He was wrong. Darius’ first act was eliminating Bagoas by poison, ridding the Persian empire of his invidious influence.

  Darius was impressive, not only in personal stature and handsome features, but in his achievements. He was brave in battle and had a quick mind, despite being the offspring of parents who were brother and sister.

  Even before his accession, Codomannus was aware of events in Greece and Macedonia. When he was just an able satrap, the petty squabbles of the Greeks had not been at the top of his list of priorities. Then he became Persia’s Great King. When Philip was eliminated, he was sure that Persia needed only to stand by and let the Greeks destroy each other. Recent events were proving him right. Until Alexander marched into Thessaly and bloodlessly brought central Greece back into the Macedonian sphere, Darius had refused all requests from Demosthenes to help Athens confront the new Macedonian monarch.

  That had changed during the last month. Through his agents, he had started moving gold into Greece. As before, Athens was the conduit for the Great King’s bribery. Demosthenes personally benefited from these bribes, as did most of the boule members who had opposed Philip and now opposed his son.

  However, other matters concerned Darius just as much as the twenty-year-old king of Macedon. Egypt was being pacified and the last Egyptian pharaoh removed. Administrative minutiae never ended for the Great King, despite his legions of scribes, civil administrators, and accountants to make the task more manageable.

  ≈

  In recent months, Darius had spent most of his time supervising the construction of his royal tomb at Parsa. Whenever he could, he left the administrative capital at Susa and traveled to Parsa, Persia’s ancient ceremonial and religious center.

  Darius the Great had built Parsa. The city occupied a series of three manmade terraces, each higher than the other. The entire bastion was set before an enormous rock outcropping called Naghsh-e-Rostam. Its high wall was unbroken except for a double set of grand stairs that instilled in any visitor a sense of awe and Great King approbation.

  Parsa’s palace was made up of a series of quadrangles, containing interior halls, spacious rooms, and a central audience chamber, the Apadana. Colossal columns, twice the height of Athens’ Parthenon columns, supported great wooden beams. Immense images of griffins and bulls heads decorated the columns’ capitals. Deep-cut reliefs covered every doorway. Most prominent of these were several depictions of the first Darius and his son, Xerxes.

  A short ho
rseback ride from Parsa, behind and beside Naghsh-e-Rostam, was an imposing, flat rock-face that Darius the Great had chosen for his tomb site. Deep-cut squares, four in number, had been formed by the stonecutter’s tools to create a monumental final resting place for the greatest of the Achaemenid rulers. Each Great King had followed Darius’ example and the rock face was filled with reliefs and inscriptions of Persia’s legendary monarchs. Each inscription told the story of the king’s reign and achievements. The latest Darius had just returned from the site and received his architects and builders in the Apadana.

  “Will mine be as impressive as Darius’, when one encounters the mountain?” Darius III asked his chief architect. A group of the architect’s assistants and construction foremen stood well behind their chief.

  “At least as impressive, Great King,” the architect responded. “Your fame will be as great as your line’s originator. Your new tomb will magnify your magnificence.”

  “How long will it take?” The answer was of great importance to him. He wanted to live long enough to be able to plan the tomb’s interior details, just as he was now directing its external appearance.

  “That depends on how many stonecutters you provide, Great King,” said the architect. “My best estimate is between two and three years. The interior should take about a year to complete, depending on the finished features you desire.”

  “I want the exterior done in two years or less. Get more stonecutters to meet this accelerated schedule. Use as many men as necessary. Don’t fail me! If you fail to complete my tomb on time, I will bury you and your workers in the stone rubble that falls from Naghsh-e-Rostam. Leave me now! You understand your task.”