The Three Paradises

by Robert Fabbri

  ‘So when Antigonos asks Kassandros for his fleet back you will offer to lend him some of this one.’

  ‘I will certainly offer; whether I actually do is another matter. But it’s definitely in the back of my mind, now it is ready. So, I have a multipurpose fleet. Not a bad year’s work, I should say.’

  ‘Not bad at all.’ She looked up into his eyes. ‘But, tell me, are you really planning on letting the interior go, Damascus, Hierosolyma, Jericho?’

  ‘I’m not planning to; but if anyone comes south to try and take them from me – Antigonos being a case in point – then I see no reason for fighting a war over them – a war, incidentally, that at the moment, I would probably lose in the long run – seeing as they have now served their purpose.’

  ‘Which was?’

  ‘Which was to fill Tyros with ships – new ships.’ He gestured down to the buzzing port all around. ‘And there they all are. No, my dear, now the job is almost done I shall return to Egypt with the army and leave garrisons in the town with orders to retreat into Tyros before an advancing enemy; and they would then be the troops that I would put in these ships should I decide to help Kassandros.’ He looked around the horizon and shook his head. ‘No, there’s no need to have a war for this place – at least, not yet there isn’t.’

  ‘My lord,’ Lycortas, Ptolemy’s chamberlain said, walking towards him as fast as was possible in his long robes.

  ‘What is it, Lycortas?’

  ‘We’ve finally managed to entice the Exile-Hunter here; Archias is just arriving on that ship.’ The steward pointed to the new arrival now docking; in its prow was the unmistakable form of the Exile-Hunter surrounded by his seven formidable Thracians, all still sporting their fox-fur caps despite the southern heat.

  ‘Have him brought to the audience chamber. Alone, mind you; I don’t want his little friends to hear what I have to say.’

  ‘Very good, my lord.’

  ‘And send a message to my triarchos to have my ship and escorts ready to sail for Egypt as soon as I’ve seen Archias.’

  ‘Very good, my lord.’

  ‘That is a piece of luck; I’ve been wanting to talk to him for a while,’ Ptolemy mused as he watched Lycortas waddle off towards the docking trireme. ‘He’s the key to ensuring that Kassandros really does kill Olympias. Now I have him, we really can go home.’ He turned and headed back to the city.

  ‘I for one will be glad to get back to Egypt and see the children,’ Thais said, after a companionable silence, as they walked through the harbour gates into the narrow, thronged, streets of Tyros, ‘and I’m sure Eurydike will be pleased to have you back and you can meet your baby son finally.’

  Ptolemy smiled at the thought of his first legitimate son, his namesake, born in early spring, as his bodyguard cleared a way for him and Thais through what was predominantly a welcoming crowd. He had always made it a policy to treat the towns he had taken with respect, being of the opinion that goodwill brought a lot more for him than heavy taxation. ‘Yes, I look forward to meeting my son and heir. I suppose I shall have to get his mother pregnant again; still, better me than someone else.’

  ‘And why just her?’

  Ptolemy looked askance at Thais. ‘I thought you didn’t want any more children.’

  Thais shrieked with amusement. ‘Me! Oh no, Ptolemy dearest; I’ll not go through that again. Three is quite enough; we’ll continue to use the safer methods.’ She gave a knowing wink and slapped his backside; the bodyguards feigned not to notice. ‘No, I’m talking about dynastic politics, my dearest, not shagging your concubine.’

  Ptolemy was as intrigued as he was aroused. ‘Go on; but make it quick as I think we both have need of a bath when we get back to the palace; and not the soothing sort either.’ He returned the slap, stinging his palm as much as her buttocks.

  Thais gave a little skip. ‘Whoo, thank you; that’s got me started. Now, where was I?’

  ‘Dynastic politics?’

  ‘Ah, yes, dynastic politics. But, on second thoughts, it can wait until we can concentrate more effectively, having bathed.’

  Thais snuggled into the crook of Ptolemy’s arm as they lay on a couch in a shaded corner of the palace’s pleasure gardens, her hair still wet and her shift clinging to the contours of her body. ‘Now, assuming that you are going to leave whatever you carve out of the empire to your legitimate son, that would mean that the young Ptolemy, whom Eurydike has recently brought into the world, would be your heir.’

  Still naked, Ptolemy dragged himself out of the warm haze of sexual satisfaction that had enveloped him ever since a shuddering climax and kissed Thais on the forehead. ‘Provided the little brute survives, correct.’

  ‘My question is, given that Antipatros is, or was, his grandfather, and Kassandros is his uncle, is he not too tightly connected with that family? If Kassandros takes Macedon, and it is a fair assumption that he will, especially if you help him, then, obviously, he will have as his power-base the best recruiting ground for Macedonian soldiers. He will become a major power and, no doubt, kill the babe and the fool and make himself king.’

  ‘But he will stay in Europe; he hasn’t got the talent to expand from there.’

  ‘You say that, but, consider this: what if he outlives you – which, if both of you die a natural death, is very likely seeing as he’s ten years younger than you – and he sees his nephew taking the throne of Egypt? Might he not be tempted to make a dynastic claim?’

  ‘Unlikely, and, besides, he wouldn’t have the wherewithal to back it up.’

  Thais took his penis and squeezed in an absent-minded way. ‘I quite agree. But now look at it from the other way around: you outlive Kassandros because he’s killed in battle, murdered, shipwrecked—’

  ‘Or is eaten from the inside out by worms because he’s so unpleasant.’

  ‘Or that, indeed. Anyway, he dies and he leaves young sons, too young to rule without a regent; what claim could be made on the throne of Macedon then?’

  Ptolemy’s face cleared in slow understanding. ‘A nephew would have a serious claim.’

  ‘He would. And especially if that nephew were the son of Ptolemy, who is purported to be Alexander’s bastard half-brother. And, whatever happens, young Ptolemy is always going to be a few years older than Kassandros’ son; assuming, that is, that there is someone in this world brave enough to open her legs for him.’

  Ptolemy turned her towards him and kissed her full on the mouth. ‘Thais, you are a genius.’

  ‘I know,’ she replied after returning the kiss and feeling his penis swell. ‘But would it be possible for one man to rule both Egypt and Macedon?’

  ‘Not unless all the land in between was a part of that empire.’

  ‘So you would need another son, but a son who is not related to Kassandros’ family so that he and Ptolemy would not quarrel about Macedon for he would have no dynastic claim to it. But this son must be royal nonetheless – a fact that rules out our sons.’

  ‘Whose son, then?’

  ‘Yours and Berenice’s.’

  ‘Berenice?’

  ‘Yes, she’s perfect. She’s the daughter of Antigone, a Macedonian princess, and is only Kassandros’ cousin.’

  ‘But she’s also Eurydike’s cousin; I can’t imagine she’ll take too kindly to the idea.’

  Thais kissed his chest and began to nibble her way down his torso. ‘Eurydike comes from a high-born family; she understands dynastic politics.’

  Ptolemy closed his eyes as Thais reached her goal. ‘But Berenice already has children of her own.’

  ‘The twin girls will be perfect for marrying off to petty prince-lings and the boy could be a useful subject ruler of one of your dominions one day; they are an asset rather than a hindrance.’

  ‘And Berenice?’

  ‘Has an eye for you, I know. But stop asking me questions; I’m busy and it’s not polite to speak with your mouth full.’

  Ptolemy smiled and stretched out with his hands behi
nd his head, looking up into the sun-dappled leaves of an almond tree and listening to the cries of the ubiquitous gulls as they circled the city and harbour.

  ‘Lord,’ Lycortas said a respectful time after Thais had returned to the crook of his arm.

  So well-timed, in fact, that Ptolemy knew he must have seen them and withdrawn to await the conclusion of the matter. ‘What is it?’

  ‘The Exile-Hunter is awaiting you in the audience chamber.’

  ‘I’ll be along soon.’

  ‘Indeed, lord. But before you see him, our old friend Babrak has come to see you; he says that he has news that may well interest you concerning Eumenes.’

  ‘Oh, Eumenes, Eumenes, Eumenes,’ Ptolemy said, his amusement obvious, ‘you are not only a clever and sly little Greek but also a very lucky one.’ He turned back to the outrageously eastern-looking man sitting on the terrace of the palace pleasure gardens looking out over Tyros. ‘So, Babrak, the little Greek is going to become a naval power, is he?’

  The Paktha merchant displayed his red-stained teeth and placed his right hand over his chest, his dark eyes apologetic. ‘This I cannot vouch for personally, master. I heard it three days ago from a cousin of mine on his way to Babylon with a caravan loaded with Kappadokian salt. I, as you know, was coming from Babylon. I have no reason to disbelieve him but when buying a boy in the slave market it is always best to check for yourself that he is a virgin rather than take the vendor’s word for it.’

  ‘Quite,’ Ptolemy said, wondering how one went about checking the virginity of a boy and deciding to leave that sort of thing to experts. Composing his mind, he sat down on a high-backed wicker chair opposite his guest. ‘So your cousin says that Antigonos is, to all intents and purposes, an outlaw and that Eumenes is now Polyperchon’s commander-in-chief in Asia with Antigenes serving under him.’

  Babrak inclined his head and spread his hands. ‘I could not have summarised that better myself, master.’

  ‘And they are coming this way.’

  ‘Indeed, master.’

  Ptolemy chuckled. ‘Oh, Eumenes, Eumenes, Eumenes; you really never give up, do you? Your tenacity will be the death of you.’ He stood again, retied the belt of his robe and looked out over the city and beyond up the coast to the north. It will be a shame to give up Beyrutus, Tripoli, and Damascus, but Eumenes won’t keep them long. And, besides, I won’t let him have Tyros. ‘When did your cousin think Eumenes will be arriving in Syria, Babrak?’

  ‘He said that he had already left Tarsus and was now somewhere on the coast where Alexander fought Darius.’

  ‘Issos? He’s moving fast.’ Moving that fast, he will, no doubt, capture many of my ships still under construction; I shall just have to make sure that I get them back off him. Perhaps I should send some well-financed agitators into his camp to see if I can separate his men’s loyalty from him. He contemplated the issue for a few moments and then picked up a purse from the table next to him, turned back to Babrak and lobbed it to him. ‘And what news from the east? How is our good friend Seleukos behaving himself?’

  ‘I had a very interesting conversation with Seleukos, just last month, master, and he was most generous to me in terms of remuneration, victuals and choice of bed companions; the boys of southern Mesopotamia are much prized for their inventiveness, degeneracy and flexibility, did you know?’

  ‘I didn’t, Babrak. How fascinating, I shall certainly make a mental note of that.’

  A misty look passed over the merchant’s eyes that faded as he weighed the purse in his hand. ‘But Seleukos seemed to be very settled in Babylon; the city was not overcrowded with soldiery as one so often sees when the local populace have no love of their leaders. I believe he wanted me to tell you how secure he is feeling as he subtly let me glimpse a full parade of his army without seeming to invite me.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘Sixteen and a half thousand strong phalanx, two thousand seven hundred Macedonian and Thessalian cavalry, four thousand mixed eastern cavalry, mainly horse-archers, five thousand three hundred mercenary Greek and Thracian peltasts, thirty-two elephants and over seven thousand light troops, mixed, archers, slingers and javelinmen.’

  ‘You gleaned all that with just a glimpse?’

  ‘Master, when glimpsing such riches of information, my eyes feast like a man having his first fresh boy after a three-monthlong journey with the same bed companions: thoroughly and with urgency but not so much haste as to make a mistake.’

  The man’s obsessed. ‘Yes, well, very good, Babrak. That’s a decent-enough-sized army for defence but not for attack; how very gratifying. Walk with me.’ He turned and began walking along the colonnaded path that bisected the pleasure gardens, perched high in the city where the breeze was fresh. ‘Where are you headed?’ Ptolemy asked as he paused to admire a bloom, one of many in a bed surrounding a gentle flowing fountain in the shape of a huge fish.

  ‘To your Egypt, master. Alexandria, to be precise. Since you deported so many Jews there recently after you took Hierosolyma it has become a growing place of trade.’

  ‘That was one of the objectives of the exercise; the other was to…well, never mind. Once you’ve done your business there, will you be heading back east?’

  ‘Yes, master.’

  ‘Then come and see me before you go; I shall be there before you as I’ll be leaving later today after I’ve had what I hope is another fruitful conversation.’

  ‘Once we had killed the men you sent to capture us,’ Archias said with a broad and friendly smile on his face, ‘I decided that it would be for the best if we should disappear for a while. Eumenes was too well protected, but even if I did manage to get through and kill the little bastard there was no guarantee that I would get my fee as it was obvious that Antipatros had but a short time to live once he had seen Iollas dead. “Hardship can age a man overnight”.’

  ‘Indeed,’ Ptolemy said, resisting the urge to mentally search for the origin of the quote. ‘And what made you decide to come to me after all?’

  Archias had no doubts. ‘What motivates any man? Money; pure and simple.’ He paused to sniff the wine he had been offered by a visibly irked Lycortas. ‘“When a man is exhausted, wine will build his strength”, and I have had a tough journey to get here.’ He took a sip and savoured it, his face brightening. ‘I can see why your steward was so irritated having to serve this to me, a former tragic actor turned assassin. Far too good for the likes of me, he was thinking; I could tell.’ He took another sip and nodded in appreciation. ‘Very fine. Not the best I have had and, no doubt, not the best that you could have served; but good enough to flatter me and to show that you mean business.’

  Ptolemy inclined his head, unable not to like the man. ‘Perhaps when the business is concluded you would join me in Alexandria and we could try a vintage superior to this.’

  ‘That could be the beginnings of a very fruitful relationship.’ Archias smiled again, took another sip, placed the cup on a round marble table and, folding his hands in his lap, sat back as if waiting to listen attentively to a proposal.

  Ptolemy contemplated the Exile-Hunter for a few moments, surprised by how much he seemed to suit his former trade and how little one would suspect him of his current profession. He is very sure of himself; that can only be a good thing when dealing with Olympias. ‘Have you read The Last Days and Testament of Alexander?’

  ‘I used to be an actor. Of course, I read anything and everything about me.’

  ‘Then obviously you know what part you are meant to have played in Alexander’s death.’

  ‘Meant to have played? Ptolemy, I played no part in Alexander’s death, I simply procured a certain poison for Kassandros and in return received a great deal of money. What he did with the poison after the exchange had been made was nothing to do with me.’

  ‘So you don’t deny getting the poison for Kassandros?’

  ‘Of course not; I don’t shy away from things I’ve done.’

  ‘So would you be pre
pared, for a substantial fee, naturally—’

  ‘Naturally.’

  Ptolemy inclined his head. ‘Naturally. Would you be prepared to go to Olympias and tell her that what is written in The Last Days and Testament of Alexander is the truth: Kassandros did get the poison from you.’

  ‘But I had no idea at the time what he wanted it for.’

  ‘Indeed.’

  ‘Until I connected three facts: Kassandros arriving in Babylon bringing a poison that I had procured for him; that his half-brother, Iollas, was Alexander’s cup-bearer and mixed his drinks for him; and then Alexander’s death a few days later. There can be no doubt that it was Kassandros who was responsible for her son’s death.’

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘And for how long after I’ve told that to the most vengeful woman in the world do you expect me to live?’

  ‘That danger will be reflected in the fee.’

  ‘Which will be?’

  ‘Ten talents in gold for you and a talent in silver each for your little friends.’

  ‘They are not so little,’ Archias said in a failed attempt to keep the astonishment from his face.

  ‘I take it from your expression that the fee meets with your approval?’

  ‘It is most generous.’

  ‘Half payable now; when we have concluded here, Lycortas will see to it. You will receive the other half when you return to me in Alexandria.’

  ‘Fair enough. But, tell me; why are you going to all this effort just to confirm something to Olympias that she must already suspect.’

  ‘Archias, I don’t normally share my motives with people but seeing as you are taking a great risk then, just this once, I will. Yes, she already suspects – in fact she is sure that she knows who it was – but she is not certain. I know the nature of the beast I’m goading and when she has absolute proof of who committed the crime there will be no atrocity that she won’t commit as she takes her vengeance and each act will be directed against…?’