Alexander the King

by Peter Messmore

  Alexander saw that his left and center were now advancing and no longer needed him. “Come with me,” he shouted to his Companion Cavalrymen as they galloped after the fleeing Darius.

  However, darkness had nearly enveloped the coastal battle scene. The enemy had taken to the hills and was retreating into dark mountain passes that were unknown to the Macedonians. Alexander abandoned the chase and started the ride back to join his army, now looting Darius’ base camp.

  During the long and exhausting ride back, the king reflected on the day’s glorious events. He had only been in Asia one and one-half years. Now the entire Persian Empire was within his grasp. Not even Philip had achieved such a great victory. But much more is possible, he thought.

  Men will speak more of my pothos quality, now that I have defeated the Persians again, he reflected with a smug smile. That pothos yearning was an almost compulsive need to do what no one else had ever done. He little understood the attribute; he only felt its powerful grip inside him. He would seek the advice of new sages and religious leaders about this as his conquests continued. He reasonedbriefly that the quality was unique in the world. It was a gift, or a curse, from Zeus-Ammon.

  Back at his headquarters, Alexander’s personal physician treated his thigh wound. He then toured what was left of Darius’ camp by torchlight. Treasures beyond his imagination were spread out before the king. Entering the Great King’s personal pavilion, he was astonished with its opulence. Gold-encrusted furniture was everywhere. Enormous, multicolored carpets covered the floor; rich tapestries hung from every wall. At the back of the pavilion was the Great King’s personal bath. Alexander’s servants had already filled the enormous tub with steaming water. It was twice the size of the King of Macedon’s body. He disrobed and as he sank slowly into the bubbling water’s healing depths, he smiled to himself and thought of his destiny. “So this is what it means to be a king,” Alexander remarked, smiling ironically to his personal servant.

  After a glorious bath, Alexander asked to be left alone. Tonight was going to be his best sleep in weeks. He had earned it.

  ≈

  The next morning, Alexander and Hephaestion learned that Darius’ royal family had been found in a tent, not far from the front lines. “Come with me, Hephaestion,” Alexander said. “This is a chance to show how we will treat our vanquished enemy.”

  Both men were rested, scrubbed, and in an elevated mood. Each was dressed in a plain tunic, bearing no indication of rank. They entered the women’s tent and found the Persian’s royal women there. Among them was Darius’ wife, Stateira, her face completely covered by a veil. She was the full sister of Darius, said to be the most beautiful woman in Persia. She said nothing and lowered her head as Alexander and Hephaestion entered. Also present was the Persian queen mother, Sisygambis.

  Alexander was about to speak when Sisygambis rushed up to Hephaestion and threw herself at his feet. “Are we to be killed, Great Alexander?” she asked through a translator.

  Hephaestion, taller and more handsome than Alexander, blushed and laughed nervously. “I am Hephaestion,” he said. “I’m afraid you’ll have to ask my companion here if you want an answer to your question.”

  Humiliated by her mistake, Sisygambis redirected her supplication and knelt at Alexander’s feet. The moment was more than awkward, as she began her apologies.

  “Don’t trouble yourself, Sisygambis,” Alexander said through the translator. “You have already lost enough. You didn’t make a mistake. Hephaestion is Alexander too.”

  Alexander assured the women that they would retain all of their royal privileges and that what had happened yesterday was not personal. He labored, through the interpreter, to explain that an empire change was occurring, one sanctioned by great Zeus-Ammon himself. The shorter of the two men the women saw before them was the personification of god’s will on earth.

  Then Alexander kissed the cheeks of both women and left. Plans must be made immediately to begin the pursuit of Darius.

  ARISTOTLE’S REFLECTIONS FROM A SPIRIT WORLD

  2

  I received secret messages from Alexander every other month, until his invasion penetrated deep into Persia. He sent them back to Pella on a medical evacuation trireme from the nearest seaport wherever he found himself. From Pella, Antipater then sent a trusted courier south to bring them to me in Athens. Since each message bore a discreet, secret coded number, I knew that no one ever intercepted any. I sent my messages to the king in the same manner.

  During the first few months of Alexander’s campaign, the Greek city-states were quiet. They expected that Alexander’s impetuous personality would result in his early death. Then, at just the right moment, when all was in turmoil and leadership was uncertain, they would rise up. After Granicus, however, everyone began to take him more seriously. Darius and his mercenary general, Memnon, had slowly begun to bribe their way into Greek affairs. I became alarmed and wrote Alexander about this developing crisis. Left ignored, these homeland events could lead to his downfall.

  Then came his great Issus victory. All of Greece knew that their Macedonian adversary was not going to eliminate himself. Greek unrest, some of it violent against Macedonian forces, became common. I decided to take drastic action. I wrote Alexander that he must send someone back that the Athenians trusted. I suggested a fake defection so that the individual would receive immediate acceptance from his enemies. The man’s mission would be to assess what was happening politically, economically, and militarily in Greece, especially in Athens. Those fields are not in my areas of expertise and I felt that a spy with specialized knowledge was needed.

  The king sent Harpalus and it was a brilliant choice. Within weeks, the most influential political leaders in Athens, even Demosthenes, confided in him. They never suspected that he was still loyal to Alexander. In time, he was able to discover their most secret designs. I assume that he had developed some way of preempting Greek moves and communicating those actions to Alexander. I could never have accomplished what the astute treasurer did so cleverly.

  Only once, when I traveled to Pella to meet with Antipater, did I talk with Olympias. She didn’t trust or like me and told me so in a most rude fashion. I informed her that Alexander trusted me and there was no reason why she should not. Nevertheless, she remained aloof toward me. I was never able to discover her feelings about her son’s campaign or what was happening in Greece and Macedonia. I soon gave up on her and let her pretend that she was ruling Macedonia.

  Without question, it was only through Antipater’s wise and courageous actions that Macedonia was able to remain stable during the first difficult months of Alexander’s campaign.

  When Alexander took Tyre, I knew that Egypt was next. He needed her for her political influence and for her vast food production capacity. That he was aware of her value was clear to me.

  I had taught him everything I knew about Egypt during group and individual lessons at Mieza. Alexander and Ptolemy used to debate long into the night about Egypt’s value. Alexander grasped immediately Egypt’s considerable importance. I share no small part in his decision to absorb that ancient nation into his emerging empire.

  My last message to him before he left Gaza was to find out as much as he could about Egyptian history and traditions that were confusing to Greeks. I wanted to know about their impressive medical practices. I also wanted to know about their herbs, drugs, and medical operating procedures.

  I pleaded with him to send back to my Lyceum school as many samples of plants and animals as he could find in Egypt. Greeks believed, perhaps erroneously, that Egypt had horses with two heads. Many of my Lyceum teachers wondered how that was possible. I wanted all of the new knowledge he could gather.

  ≈

  I knew what would interest Alexander most in Egypt: his mother’s ridiculous teaching that he was the son of God. We often talked of his supposed deity when he was my student.

  More than once I explained to him that all religious mysteries operated on thr
ee levels. Outer mysteries were simple stories, meant for children and immature adults. This level featured beautiful legends and highly symbolic stories. The stories were never meant to be taken literally. The outer mysteries’ purpose was to prepare the intellectually curious and elite members of society for deeper spiritual understanding.

  I taught Alexander that the second spiritual level was the inner mysteries. Here, religious myths were revealed to a limited number of humans as spiritual allegories. This level featured explanations and life-examples of the encoded religious stories that could help a spiritual searcher achieve closer communion with the higher power. After my first lesson with him on the inner mysteries, I knew that Alexander would reject further spiritual teaching.

  The last mystery level involved esoteric, spiritual teaching. It was here that the spiritual seeker discovered knowledge of himself. After that great personal achievement, the God within each seeker was revealed.

  I was never able to convince Alexander that the first mystery level was just a series of highly symbolic, life-improving metaphors. After he left Mieza, and for the rest of his life, he never grew beyond the literal, outer mystery level.

  Had his spiritual growth evolved, almost everything he did would have been different. However, Olympias had corrupted his brilliant mind from childhood with the absurd belief that he was the son of God. In so doing, she rendered any deeper spiritual growth impossible.

  For centuries, I hoped that humans would realize the purpose of religion. Now however, over two thousand years later, I am convinced that humankind will never progress beyond literal religious beliefs while they live.

  ≈

  My last request was for him to find out what he could about the civilization of Atlantis. Plato had spoken and written of it; all educated Greeks wanted to know more about it. Supposedly, it lay beyond the Pillars of Hercules. However, which Pillars of Hercules was he referencing? Was it those at the western end of the Mediterranean or at the more meager cape south of Athens? I asked for clarification.

  I have come to believe that Atlantis was just another metaphor of an ideal society and that humans interpreted Plato too literally. Humans love to chase a dream. They will always seek certainty in the midst of uncertainty.

  Since these legends had originated in Egypt, I knew that someone there would know the answers to these questions and could teach Alexander.

  I asked King Alexander if I could visit Egypt after he conquered Persia. I knew that he would return to Macedonia and Greece after he had defeated Darius. The Great King’s empire was vast, but I wrongly believed that it was not so vast that Alexander would spend much more than an additional year or two there. I even requested that he and I visit the ancient land together. I didn’t understand then that I would never see him again.

  ≈

  I envied Callisthenes’ first-hand access to Alexander. What wondrous worlds must he be encountering? My students kept busy cataloguing my nephew’s many scientific reports. They were priceless sources of new information in changing our view of the world.

  I wondered during my life if we were just like Plato’s insignificant cave-prisoners, sitting around the Mediterranean, full of societal delusion and intellectual self-importance. It seemed to be an innate characteristic of human kind.

  Yet, civilization grew because of Alexander’s hubris-filled odyssey. I hoped, while I lived, that humans could learn from the experiences of those that went before them. My worst fear continues to be, after the passage of centuries, that your kind will never change or make meaningful social and intellectual progress. I have observed occasional examples of elevated human behavior, but most of you have not appreciably changed during my time in this spirit world.

  CHAPTER 10

  SOUTHWARD

  “What is Darius’ offer?” Alexander asked the two Persian envoys who met him in Marathus. “Know at the outset that I will settle for nothing less than his entire empire.”

  Darius’ two representatives, both of whom, like Great King Darius, spoke Greek fluently, looked at each other. A Macedonian barbarian that wouldn’t even listen had just negated their mission. “Hear our offer, King Alexander,” one of them said. “It is more than attractive.”

  Alexander sat in Marathus’ temple narthex, accompanied only by Hephaestion and, at a distance, his Royal Bodyguards. A cruel leer painted his face. “Proceed,” is all that he said.

  The senior Persian stepped forward, cleared his throat, opened a scroll sealed with Darius’ royal seal on it, and began reading his Great King’s words. “If you agree to sign a treaty of friendship and cease all military actions against the rest of the Persian kingdom, great rewards will be given you. First, a rich ransom is yours for the return of my wife, my mother, my children and the remainder of my royal family captured at Issus. I know of the serious economic conditions in Macedonia. This ransom offer alone will solve all of your domestic problems.”

  The envoy continued reading Darius’ offer. “Second, I will cede to you, upon treaty signing, all of my lands and cities west of the Halys River. West Asia would be yours from Cilicia to Sinope. I know factually that this is the extent of Asian territory that your father, King Philip, ever wanted to conquer.”

  “I am Alexander, he was just Philip,” Alexander interjected sarcastically. Then he motioned for the envoy to continue.

  “Finally,” the envoy said cautiously, concluding his Great King’s offer extemporaneously without reading any more text, “King Darius wants eternal friendship between Persia, Greece, and Macedon. War as a permanent condition between us must end.”

  Alexander noted that Darius’ envoys had listed Macedon last. He was about to correct him and tell him that Macedon and Greece were one political unit but thought better of it. He had already rejected Darius’ offer mentally; more discussion would be a waste of time. “I have heard Darius’ offer, Persians,” he snapped. “Give the scroll to me. Leave and wait here in Marathus. You will have my answer in three days.”

  ≈

  Alexander faced a dilemma. He did not intend to accept any of Darius’ ridiculous offers. His destiny was to become the lord of all Asia, not just a vassal of Darius. From this point forward in his conquests, he would surpass Philip’s every dream. However, he was obligated to present some form of the Persian offer to his war council, for Macedonian kings did not rule absolutely. The council did not need to know the offer’s details. Alexander had learned long ago that kings could, and often did, alter facts to achieve their goals.

  “Get me that captured Persian scribe who served Darius’ family,” he told Hephaestion. “Send him to me immediately. We are going to rewrite Darius’ offer to one more of my liking. I think you know what I mean.”

  Hephaestion gave his friend a knowing smile and left the king alone. Alexander was already mentally dictating an altered Darius offer. The changed document was insulting in tone and laced with condescending Persian expletives. Critically, Alexander’s version had Darius making no territorial concessions. Alexander knew what his war council’s reaction would be to this fake peace proposal. Smugly, he waited for the scribe, knowing that the battle against Darius would continue.

  ≈

  The next day a near-perfect substitute version of Darius’ scroll had been created. The scribe who produced it was killed and his body thrown in the trash heap of Marathus. Alexander’s war council overwhelmingly rejected Darius’ offer and supported the war’s continuance.

  Alexander addressed them after the vote of support. “Here is my plan, men. I know that Darius wants us to chase him across Asia. That is another one of his traps. We know little or nothing of central Asia. We don’t even know how far it is to the Great Sea. Aristotle taught me that it is only a month’s journey, but I suspect that he was wrong. Darius would like nothing more than to bleed us in scores of small, deadly skirmishes. I won’t have it.”

  “Instead, we will wait for Darius. There is plenty for us to do along the coast and southward. The Persian navy can s
till threaten us; I want our coastal rear and Egypt settled before we meet Darius again. We will give him time to raise the largest Persian army that he can muster. Then, we will defeat him for a third and final time. That is my plan.”

  The officers in his war council erupted with a rowdy show of support for their king’s words. “Let’s skin the bastards,” and “On to Persepolis,” were heard from his top commanders. Alexander let the shouting continue, and then held up his arms for quiet.

  “Take this decision to our men today,” he said. “I want full knowledge of our military intent shared with each of our fighters. Tell the men that even more bounty will be coming to them. Explain that, in time, they will become rich. They will support our moves.”

  Alexander left the meeting and joined Perdiccas, Seleucus, and Craterus for a meal. As they were eating, a messenger informed him that Ptolemy had just captured Damascus, Syria. Darius’ complete baggage train had been seized and the city’s enormous treasure was now in Parmenio’s hands. The message also informed Alexander that Greek ambassadors for Athens, Thebes, and Sparta were also being held in protective custody.

  Fascinating to Alexander, was the last part of Parmenio’s message. Barsine, widowed wife of Memnon, Alexander’s greatest adversary to date, had been captured. She was on her way to Marathus, under armed escort, and would arrive in about a week. Alexander lifted his eyes and remembered Barsine. She and her father, Artabazus, had lived in his father’s Pella court for years. The king remembered that she had received a first-class Greek education, was the daughter of a Persian nobleman and a royal blood mother, and was trilingual. His last conversation with her had been after she had taught him a lesson in basic Persian. He had been eight; she had been eighteen.