Philip turned to him. ‘Perdikkas, I will be well, all will be well; Tychon said so.’
Perdikkas strode over to the bed, took the king’s face in one hand and examined his eyes. ‘You seem to be fine.’
‘Oh, I am fine, Perdikkas,’ Philip assured him as shouting erupted in the courtyard. ‘I would like steak and my elephant.’
But Philip’s request was ignored as Perdikkas, disturbed by the noise, went to the window and threw the shutters open. He froze. ‘God’s below,’ he whispered, so that Roxanna could just hear him. ‘Alketas, what have you done?’ He turned and sprinted from the room.
Roxanna watched him in alarm before walking to the window and looking down. As she did so, a girl standing on a wagon with a corpse at her feet, surrounded by a huge crowd of soldiers, both mounted and on foot, raised her arms in the air in a request for silence.
‘Soldiers of Macedon.’ Her voice surprised Roxanna by the strength and masculinity of it. The girl pointed to a man roped, kneeling, to the rear of the wagon. ‘This man, Alketas, whom you all know, wishes to explain to you why he killed my mother, Cynnane, the sister of Alexander.’
Roxanna chuckled to herself, pleased to hear of the death of another of Alexander’s family. And at Alketas’ hand, as well; those Macedonian pigs won’t like that. Her smile grew broader as Alketas was kicked and punched; shouts turned from outrage to outright anger.
The girl once more appealed for calm; by the time it was manifest, Alketas was bloodied and prostrate.
‘My mother was bringing me here for you, soldiers of Macedon.’
‘Wait!’
Roxanna looked down, to see Perdikkas pushing through the crowd with two Macedonian officers following him. With luck they’ll rip both him and his brother to death. Roxanna’s mood had greatly improved.
‘Wait,’ Perdikkas shouted, breathless from shoving and pushing his way through. ‘What are you doing with my brother?’ He pointed at the men surrounding the wagon. ‘Get back, all of you. Docimus, Polemon, push them back.’
‘He killed Cynnane!’ many voices replied as the girl stood by the corpse, with her hands on her hips, saying nothing, as the two officers cleared a way for Perdikkas.
‘Touch us and you’re dead men,’ Docimus, the elder of the two, shouted with menace in his voice as he and Polemon manhandled a path through the crush.
That would escalate things. Roxanna smiled, her eyes cold.
Perdikkas reached the wagon and looked up at the girl. ‘Believe me, Adea; I told him that neither of you were to be harmed.’
Adea looked down at her mother’s corpse and indicated to it with an open palm. ‘And yet there she lies!’
Rough hands again grabbed Alketas and pulled him to his feet as a flurry of punches cracked into his ribs and face. He doubled over as Docimus and Polemon tried to reach him.
A growl of anger surged through the crowd, now thousands strong and growing all the time as men poured through the gates, the news of the murder of Alexander’s sister spreading throughout the city.
‘Take your hands off my brother!’ This time the voice was female; Roxanna searched the crowd for the source to see a tall woman in her mid-thirties, possessed of beauty and confidence. Atalanta! This gets better and better; to have the sister killed alongside her brothers would be more than I could ask.
‘Who are you to treat my brother like that, girl?’
Adea fixed her eyes on the new arrival. ‘I am the daughter of a murdered mother and the granddaughter of Alexander’s father, Philip, and I demand justice.’
‘You can demand all you like but if one more hand is laid upon my brother then it will be me demanding justice of you. Now let him go.’ Atalanta walked towards Alketas, the men parting for her, despite their anger. Reaching him, she raised him up, untied his bonds and led him by the hand back through the crowd. ‘Let us pass.’
None hindered their passage but all growled their anger.
Again Adea appealed for quiet as Atalanta took her brother to safety. ‘I came here for one purpose and now, Perdikkas, if you want my forgiveness and if you want me to intercede with the soldiers of Macedon and ask them to spare your brother’s life when he is not under the protection of his sister, then you will not stand in my way. Give me justice.’
Perdikkas looked around as he sensed the ill-will surrounding him. ‘Very well, Adea, I will give you justice; what is it that you want?’
A cheer erupted and spread throughout the gathering; helms were flung in the air and weapons shaken above heads.
Roxanna felt jealousy writhe within her as she beheld a female getting the sort of praise that she could only dream of and was confused as to what its cause was.
She did not have long to wait as Adea brought the celebrations to a lull. ‘Soldiers of Macedon, I have come here to marry the new King Philip.’
Roxanna felt as if a fist had punched her in the belly. She turned and looked at the man whom she had attempted to poison and then been forced to cure; his countenance was childlike and bewildered.
Adea’s voice drew her attention back to the courtyard.
‘I have come to be your queen; I shall take the royal name of Eurydike and provide you with a true heir of pure Argead blood.’
With bile in her throat, Roxanna staggered away from the window. Over my dead body, you little bitch.
ANTIGONOS,
THE ONE-EYED
‘AND YOU’RE SURE she’s dead?’ Antigonos asked, his one eye boring, alternately, into those of Babrak, the merchant, across the desk opposite him; Philotas and Demetrios sat in a couple of chairs by the window, bright with sun reflected off a snow-bound landscape.
Babrak hunched his shoulders and spread his hands. ‘Well, obviously, I didn’t see the body myself, great lord, it happened a hundred leagues down the Euphrates on the Babylonia border; but that’s what Arrhidaeus told me when I met Alexander’s catafalque on my journey north from Egypt. The two funeral cortèges passed each other so he saw her; he said she was killed by Alketas.’
Antigonos looked over to Philotas. ‘On Perdikkas’ orders, one must assume. Alketas has never had the gumption to do anything by himself. And Perdikkas expects me to appear before the army in Babylon when he orders summary executions of Alexander’s family without a by your leave? My arse! My damp, hairy arse, I will.’ He glanced at Perdikkas’ summons that had lain on his desk, unanswered, for the past four months. ‘Well, that finally puts my mind to rest over sending him the same answer as the last time he tried to give me an order.’ He took the summons and ripped it up. ‘I’m afraid to say, my boy, that war seems inevitable if Perdikkas is behaving like this.’
‘And where will that leave us?’ Demetrios asked.
Antigonos wiped a tear weeping from his missing eye. ‘That is a very good question.’
He tossed a purse to Babrak. ‘Thank you, old friend, I’ll see you next time you pass my way.’
Babrak got to his feet and touched his forehead. ‘It will be a different world the next time we meet, great lord, I feel the wind changing for the worse, like a boy losing the bloom of youth and becoming a man.’
‘What? Oh yes, I see; you could be right, Babrak, you could be right.’
‘But war brings business opportunities, so I won’t complain.’ With a bow Babrak left the room.
Antigonos reflected on the statement for a moment and then turned to Philotas. ‘Well? Where does it leave us?’
Philotas did not need to consider the question. ‘It all depends upon what position Eumenes takes in Kappadokia. Perdikkas can rely on Peithon’s support in Media after that business with the mercenaries and Peucestas’ support in Persia but no one else except, perhaps, the sly little Greek. If Eumenes stands with Perdikkas, we’ll have a fight on our hands; if he comes over to us then Perdikkas is a dead man.’
Antigonos scratched his beard and looked at Philotas. ‘You’re right, old friend, we need to talk to Eumenes, even though I refused to help him in Kappadokia.’ H
e looked out of the window at the blanket of snow covering the Kappadokian uplands in the distance. ‘Who fancies a trip into Kappadokia at this time of year?’
‘He’s not in Kappadokia at the moment, Father,’ Demetrios informed them. ‘When I arrived in Tarsus he had just passed through, coming from Babylon.’
‘Passed through? Where was he going?’
‘Sardis was the rumour, according to Barbek.’
Antigonos’ one eye widened as the implication hit him. ‘Sardis? Well, it wouldn’t be to see Menander because, as far as he’s concerned, Menander should be in Hellespontine Phrygia and not Sardis, so he’s going to see Kleopatra and if he’s coming from Babylon he’s doing so at Perdikkas’ instigation.’ The enormity of the implication hit Antigonos like a slingshot. ‘The sly little Greek is negotiating a second marriage for Perdikkas! He’s killed Cynnane and now plans to break with Antipatros, repudiate Nicaea and marry Kleopatra; the bastard’s going for the crown! King Perdikkas, my arse. When Antipatros hears this it will force him to go against Perdikkas.’ He grinned, his one eye gleaming. ‘Right, gentlemen, I don’t give a fuck about the weather; I need to get to Antipatros to set things in motion. Philotas, you stay here and gather all the troops you can; Demetrios, you help him. I need to find a ship prepared to sail in the winter. It’s finally come to it: we’ve got a war to fight.’ Phalanx against phalanx; gods, this will be good. A lot of the lads will die because of it but I’m going to enjoy it to the full.
Antigonos’ one eye blazed as he stared at Antipatros. ‘Then you’ll have to make a truce with them and pull the army back to Pella, ready to cross the Hellespont as soon as the weather turns.’ He slapped the camp table to emphasise his point.
Antipatros pulled his sheepskin cloak tighter about his shoulders and stared into the flames of the brazier, his eyes tired and his expression hang-dog. ‘I had barely enough time to get my wife pregnant again before the Aitolians decided to rekindle the Greek rebellion and I had to come south again to this… this…’ He indicated, through the tent flaps, to the bitter snow-streaked hills of Aitolia, south-east of Thessaly, and the hilltop town under winter siege. ‘And just as I’m a couple of months away from starving the bastards out you’re saying that I should pat them on the backs and tell them not to be so naughty again and then, rather than going back to the comforts of my wife, I launch a war that could take me away for a couple of years; at my age? Is that really what you’re suggesting?’
‘That’s exactly what I’m suggesting.’
Antigonos looked over to Krateros and Nicanor, who both nodded their support.
‘Fuck the Aitolians, Father,’ Nicanor said, ‘we can deal with an army of goatherds anytime. Perdikkas is going for the crown. He’s about to personally humiliate our family by taking Kleopatra as a wife, either repudiating Nicaea or relegating her to second wife, and he has just ordered the murder of a member of the royal house—’
‘Whom I hate.’
‘Personal feelings have nothing to do with it,’ Antigonos snapped; he raised a hand in apology for his harsh tone. ‘You taught me that more than forty years ago, when I was twenty.’
Antipatros sighed. ‘Was that so long ago? Philip wasn’t even king then and I was approaching forty and thinking about starting to take life easy.’ He shook his head. ‘And now, forty years later, you want me to start the biggest war of my life?’
‘You have to,’ Krateros said with as much sympathy in his voice as he could muster. ‘Perdikkas won’t rest until he has us all in his thrall. He thinks that he can take Hellespontine Phrygia from me and give it to Menander; for Ares’ sake, who does he think he is? Thank the god of war that Menander is an honourable man. But killing Cynnane is unforgivable.’
‘We don’t know that he ordered Alketas to kill her.’
‘It doesn’t matter whether his fool of a brother did it by a mistake or because he was ordered to, it’s still Perdikkas’ deed. But it’s his wooing of Kleopatra that’s the most dangerous thing. If he marries her he will claim the crown and then who will be back in power?’
Antipatros slapped his forehead. ‘Olympias.’
Nicanor blew into his hands and rubbed them. ‘Yes, and our family will be dead; all of us.’
Antipatros looked at his son, his eyes weary. ‘Will there never be any peace?’
‘What? For you personally or for the empire?’ Antigonos asked.
Antipatros heaved another sigh. ‘Well, I suppose I have no choice in the matter, I can’t let that witch Olympias back into Macedon, her vengeance will be a bloodbath.’ He lifted his eyes from the flames and strength seemed to flood back into them, his decision made. ‘Alright, gentlemen, we take an army over to Asia to defeat Perdikkas and any others who stand with him.’ He stood, dropping his cloak to reveal full armour underneath, walked to the entrance of the tent and, looking at the besieged town, took a deep breath of icy air; it steamed from his mouth as he spoke. ‘I’ll make a deal with those vermin up in the town which they will, no doubt, take as a victory because I’m withdrawing without taking their filthy little hovels. But so be it, although I think that one day I’ll come to regret it.’ He turned back into the tent. ‘Antigonos, go back to Asia and rally support: Menander and Assander will be with us, remind Kleitos of his loyalties and try to persuade Neoptolemus and Eumenes to see sense. Krateros, you and I will prepare the army for a long campaign; we’ll cross to Asia as soon as the weather warms in a month or so. I’ll leave Polyperchon in Pella as my deputy and you’ll stay with him, Nicanor, with enough troops to fend off an attack from Epirus; my guess is that as soon as the witch hears that I’m moving east she will slink back from Sardis and start intriguing with that weakling Aeacides again to persuade him to have another go at taking a few towns from us.’ He smiled, grim and determined. ‘I shall write to Ptolemy and ask him whether he would be so kind as to make a nuisance of himself; let’s make things as difficult as we can for Perdikkas.’
PERDIKKAS,
THE HALF-CHOSEN
‘WE MARCH NORTH immediately,’ Perdikkas stated, looking at each of his senior officers seated around the table in the throne-room. ‘The whole army, north, now. If the information is correct, and I completely trust Eumenes and his spies, then we must be at the Hellespont to stop Antipatros and Krateros from invading.’ He turned to Archon, the satrap of Babylonia. ‘Assemble every ship large enough to carry troops in the harbour. Antigenes and Seleukos, muster the army ready to move.’ He pointed at two middle-aged officers in turn. ‘Docimus, I want you to go to Peithon and Polemon, you go to Peucestas and tell them to bring their armies to Tarsus; we shall rendezvous there and carry on north together. Aristonous, I want you to hurry to Tyros and join Nearchus and take whatever ships he’s managed to gather and secure Cyprus; I won’t have that island used as a base for naval operations against us as we go north.’ He looked across the table to his brother-in-law, Attalus. ‘Take Alketas, keep him out of trouble, Atalanta can go with you. Travel north as fast as you can to Tarsus, send messages to Eumenes and Neoptolemus to take their armies to the Hellespont in support of Kleitos and the fleet; then take any ships still in Tarsus south to Aristonous whilst Alketas musters Cilicia’s army and waits for me to arrive with the main force. If Alexander’s catafalque arrives, tell Arrhidaeus to wait and then it can travel with us as we move north; they won’t dare stand against us if we’re escorting that.’ He turned to Kassandros. ‘I want you to stay in Babylon and look after things here whilst I’m away.’
Kassandros scowled. ‘As a hostage? It is my father, after all, who you’re marching against.’
‘Which is why I feel it best that you stay out of it. You are not a hostage; you are the commander of the garrison of Babylon.’
‘Which one of my officers will you give the order to kill me if my father beats you?’ He nodded at Archon. ‘Or will that nonentity of a satrap finally be given a task of some responsibility other than being your shadow?’
‘It will never come to tha
t.’
‘So it has crossed your mind then?’
Of course it has; you would do exactly the same. ‘You are in command of the army in Babylon.’
Kassandros snorted.
Wiping the sweat from his brow, Perdikkas tried to calm his nerves. Ever since the message had arrived from Eumenes, less than an hour previously by messenger relay, stating that Antipatros had concluded a very un-advantageous peace with the Aitolians and had pulled his army back to Pella in preparation for an assault on Asia, Perdikkas had been in a state of nervous excitement. If all his efforts to avoid war were come to naught and his authority as the bearer of Alexander’s ring was to be constantly flouted, then so be it: he would call their bluff and they would back down because, ultimately, he had The Great Ring of Macedon. It suited him perfectly: he was not the aggressor, he was faithfully defending Alexander’s legacy and the rights of the two kings; he would march against fellow countrymen with a clear conscience and the sure knowledge that right was on his side. Eumenes, Kleitos and Neoptolemus would hold the Hellespont against Antipatros and Krateros and once he arrived with Alexander’s catafalque, he would cross it himself. Let’s see if they dare make war on Alexander’s corpse. They’ll come begging my forgiveness and it will be forthcoming if they pledge their loyalty to me over Alexander’s dead body.
Yes, it was playing into his hands, this foolish move of Antipatros; and why was he doing it anyway? He, Perdikkas, was the old man’s son-in-law after all; even if the regent knew about his intriguing with Kleopatra, he had still not married her; indeed, Eumenes had written a few days previously of his disappointment at being unable to change her mind and persuade her to marry him. But that will change now; when she sees the real possibility of war breaking out she will realise that the only way to prevent it is to marry me and give Macedon and the empire a legitimate king and queen.
‘What shall we do about the two kings and their two growling bitches?’ Seleukos asked, using the term that they had all come to use to refer to the royal party since the marriage of Adea, or Queen Eurydike as she was now known, to Philip. The union had instigated a feud between the new queen and Roxanna that had provided amusement for all during the previous couple of months.
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