Alexander's Legacy: To The Strongest

by Robert Fabbri

‘Us.’

  Kleopatra rubbed her wrists together and then sniffed them. ‘Us, then. But just help, alright. What’s changed to make Perdikkas seem so desperate? What do we know?’

  ‘The bitch Cynnane is dead and her whelp is married to the fool; now Adea or Queen Eurydike, as she now styles herself, has more claim to the throne than Perdikkas, except if he’s married to you. She’s a real threat to him.’

  ‘And, therefore, someone who needs to die should I decide to change my mind.’

  ‘Someone who needs to die whatever you decide and, believe me, I shall work at it.’

  ‘I don’t doubt it.’ Kleopatra stood to allow slave-girls to attend to the fall of her dress and the positioning of the pearls around her neck. ‘So, what else?’

  ‘Antipatros and Krateros have marched for the Hellespont and are probably halfway there by now having secured passage through Thrace from Lysimachus in a deal that remains a secret. That non-entity, Polyperchon, is deputy-regent in Macedon. Polyperchon! Who is he?’

  ‘Yes, yes, but what else?’

  Olympias swallowed her anger and then looked blank. ‘I don’t know. Antigonos is back in Asia and Assander, satrap of Caria, has sided with him. Menander remains here, professing his support for an anti-Perdikkas alliance but doing nothing one way or the other. Perdikkas has surprised everyone by taking his army south towards Damascus and Peithon is just behind him. And that’s all the latest news we have.’

  Kleopatra did a couple of half-twirls, left and then right, admiring the flow of her dress behind her as it swayed. ‘Something has happened, Mother, believe me. Something important, otherwise Perdikkas would have come himself instead of suddenly heading south and asking Eumenes to deputise for him when he should be watching the Hellespont.’

  She’s right, but I can’t put my finger on exactly what it is. But, yes, things are coming to a head and I feel that it’s time for me to return to Epirus. ‘You look every bit a queen.’

  ‘Thank you, Mother. And now I shall listen to what Eumenes has to say and decide whether I shall make Perdikkas a king.’

  ‘It is the only way to prevent conflict,’ Eumenes insisted, looking up from a low stool at Kleopatra, seated on the high-placed satrap’s chair. ‘Look around the empire, Kleopatra, and you’ll see that the world is descending into chaos. A Greek rebellion out east was barely contained; a Greek rebellion in the west put down for the moment but resentment still simmers. Antipatros and Krateros are marching to Asia with Antigonos, Assander and Menander as allies and with Lysimachus’ tacit support. Our world, as we know it, will be at war if we don’t produce one strong leader, right now. Perdikkas, leading Alexander’s catafalque to Macedon, with you by his side, will be seen as that leader; he could claim the crown and the Argead house will still reign in Macedon through you.’

  ‘But would he be strong enough to keep the crown?’ Kleopatra asked.

  ‘Antipatros will have to accept his authority, despite the foolish insult that Perdikkas has offered over Nicaea.’

  No he doesn’t, Olympias thought, standing behind her daughter’s seat. ‘And say he does and Perdikkas is crowned king, what of Philip the fool and my grandson, Alexander?’

  Eumenes considered the question for a few moments. ‘I won’t pretend that it is not a delicate situation. Perdikkas is well aware of the strength of feeling that surged through the empire when the tragedy happened to Cynnane. But I will be frank: there is no place for Philip in this scenario. Fortunately Roxanna has already made an attempt on his life which Perdikkas has covered up. Should Perdikkas be crowned king then the hapless Philip will, indeed, become a victim to that eastern bitch’s potions as will his new young wife. Roxanna will pay the price and your grandson will be an orphan. Who better to adopt him than his aunt and her husband; the king and queen gain an heir who is also Alexander’s son. I think that everyone will see that as being the most stable of outcomes.’

  ‘What if I want to have a child myself?’ Kleopatra asked. ‘And what if that child is a boy? Perdikkas might prefer to see his bloodline inherit.’

  Eumenes made a gesture of helplessness. ‘What happens so far in the future is out of our hands. It is the now we have to worry about; how we secure the Argead bloodline now.’ He paused and considered the two women, his expression grave. ‘For all my adult life I have served your family; first Philip who raised me up to a position of influence – even though I wasn’t a Macedonian – and then Alexander; my loyalty is to the Argead royal house and to it alone. Nothing and no one will ever change that; I will fight to my last to ensure its survival. This course of action is the way I can see a peaceful solution; one that ensures the continuation of the line with very little blood spilt – just that of a fool, a wild-cat and a vixen. What are they compared to the deaths of thousands of men and an uncertain outcome which may, even, be the complete extinction of your house? Sometimes I think that because I am an outsider, a Greek at that, indeed, a sly little Greek, I can see more clearly what needs to be done: swallow the insult he offered by marrying Nicaea and marry Perdikkas, Kleopatra, and take Alexander to Macedon, inter him there and then claim the crown between you. Think on that, ladies. I have pressed my suit for Perdikkas and have nothing else to add other than this.’ He picked up a small walnut-wood box by his feet and opened the lid. ‘I have here Alexander’s diadem and I will give it to you to give to Perdikkas as a wedding gift should you decide to accept him.’

  Olympias’ eyes flashed with power-lust at the sight of such a symbol of authority; Kleopatra slowly nodded her head as she recognised what Eumenes was offering.

  There was a period of contemplation as the two women considered Eumenes’ argument.

  Olympias glanced at her daughter. He’s getting to her; the little Greek can be very convincing. My daughter the queen, my grandson the heir-apparent and a fool, an eastern bitch and a vixen out of the way; very neat. Eumenes, I couldn’t have asked for more. So where is the catch?

  Kleopatra turned to Olympias. ‘If I do this, Mother, you promise me that you’ll go immediately to Epirus and have Aeacides’ army threaten Macedon’s western border, drawing Polyperchon away so that Antipatros has no hope of reinforcements and nowhere to run to. That should focus his mind and help him submit to us.’

  ‘That was exactly what I was going to do whether you decided to marry Perdikkas or not.’

  ‘I can always trust you to meddle.’ Kleopatra stood and walked down to Eumenes, offering him both her hands. ‘Very well, Eumenes, I will do it but here are my conditions: firstly, Nicaea remains his wife so that there is no cause for vengeance on Antipatros’ or Kassandros’ part and they agree to give up Iollas as a surety of their good behaviour.’

  Eumenes inclined his head. ‘Agreed.’

  ‘Secondly, that I am present at all the negotiations with Antipatros; I think they will be more cordial with a feminine influence.’

  ‘Again, agreed.’

  ‘And, finally, that we do it as soon as possible, before there is a chance that blood is spilt and we pass the point of no return. To that end I suggest that Perdikkas comes to Sardis immediately, with Alexander’s catafalque; whatever he’s up to in Damascus has no bearing on the important issue of securing peace in the north.’

  Eumenes’ grip on her hands lessened. ‘That might not be so easy. Perdikkas could come, but…’ He looked down, evidently uncomfortable.

  They are hiding something.

  Kleopatra frowned. ‘Perdikkas could come but not Alexander’s catafalque; is that what you’re saying?’

  ‘Yes, but I’m assured that it is a temporary situation.’

  And then Olympias saw it. Ptolemy. ‘Ptolemy! Ptolemy hijacked it.’ She knew it to be the truth. It’s what I would have done.

  Kleopatra let go of Eumenes’ hands as if they had suddenly become things of burning heat. ‘Is that true?’

  ‘You didn’t know?’

  ‘We knew something was wrong, but I didn’t imagine that it would be that catastroph
ic. If Ptolemy has Alexander then Perdikkas will never get him back. Without his body we shall be just another contender for the throne with no better claim than the other two. The deal is off.’

  EUMENES, THE SLY

  THEY DIDN’T KNOW. Gods! How could I be so stupid? Still it’s done now and is probably for the best; you can’t hide the fact that a catafalque is missing – not even from Peithon. ‘He may yet get it back.’ And I may yet grow as tall as Seleukos.

  ‘Eumenes,’ Kleopatra said with a regretful smile, ‘Perdikkas has done just about everything wrong since he received Alexander’s ring; what makes you think that he’s going to outsmart Ptolemy?’

  Fuck that, Ptolemy; still, you have to admire him, it was a bold move. I’ll wager it was Arrhidaeus and I don’t blame him. ‘Will you at least agree to reconsider if he does manage to?’

  ‘It would be pointless because by then the war would already have started. Ptolemy would have taken the catafalque back to Egypt by now, by sea seeing as he has no need for it to travel slowly overland so all can witness its progress. So to get it back, Perdikkas has to invade Egypt; you see, it’s too late: our world is going to war; Macedonian against Macedonian; it’s unavoidable.’

  The truth of the statement hit Eumenes; he felt winded. Gods, she’s right. ‘So what will you do?’

  ‘Me? I will wait here and marry whoever comes out as the eventual winner.’

  Eumenes’ smile was grim. ‘Something tells me that you may have a long wait.’

  ‘I think so too. But I’m sorry for you, Eumenes, because I know how hard you tried and I know that your heart was in the right place and your honour remains intact.’ She took his hands again, pulled him forward and kissed him on the cheek. ‘Try not to get killed.’

  ‘Mistress! Mistress!’ A buxom matron bustled in at speed, pushing past a guard on the door.

  ‘You had better have a good reason for such rudeness, Thetima.’

  ‘Antigonos has just forced the north gates with an armed escort demanding that Eumenes be given up to him.’

  Eumenes frowned as faint shouts echoed through the palace. ‘No one knows I’m here; I was most specific on that point.’

  ‘Menander!’ Kleopatra said. ‘He has spies everywhere in Sardis. Go out the rear door and then take the western gate, Thetima will show you the way.’

  ‘What about my men, they’re waiting outside the palace?’

  ‘It’s too late for them; I’ll save them if I can but I think they’re going to become the first casualties of the war. Mother, go with him; if Antigonos finds you here he might try to gain favour with Antipatros by taking you to him. Get to Ephesus and take our ship back home; that’s where you can be of service now. You can drop Eumenes off with Kleitos’ fleet in the Hellespont on the way.’

  Olympias kissed her daughter.

  ‘Just go, Mother.’

  ‘We may never see each other again.’

  ‘I know, but if you stay and Antigonos gets you then that is almost a certainty.’

  With one more kiss, Olympias turned and followed Thetima from the room. Eumenes nodded to Kleopatra, wishing that she had been born a man, and then ran after them, his footsteps echoing around him.

  Hoof-beats pounded the track as Eumenes and Olympias galloped down the hill towards the port of Ephesus. Riding as well as any man, Olympias led the way, her white skirts stained with horse sweat and her hair wild and loose after the two-day ride from Sardis.

  With grudging respect, Eumenes watched her brow-beat the city watch into letting her and her ‘slave’ through into the ancient streets beyond, keeping their horses. Through the crowds they pushed, on into the agora, past the great library, with its monolithic frontage painted a dazzling white, and then onto the port.

  ‘To sea, now!’ was all that Olympias needed to shout as she and Eumenes ran up the gangway of the ship that had brought her and Kleopatra from Macedon the previous year; with the urgency conveyed by the curtness of her order the triarchos bellowed his crew into action in fluent Nauticalese.

  Rowers hastened to their benches, deckhands heaved on sheets, lines were cast and oars were spread. As the sleek vessel eased away from its berth and slipped through the harbour mouth, a dozen horsemen thundered onto the quay where it had been tied up just a few hundred heartbeats before.

  ‘We just made it,’ Eumenes said, realising that he was stating the obvious.

  ‘That’s because I have this ship always standing by; one never knows when one will have to make a quick exit.’ Olympias made an obscene gesture to their erstwhile pursuers as they milled around on the quay shouting and pointing to the escaping ship. ‘It’ll take them a while to get a vessel ready; we’ll have at least a couple of hours on them; we’ll head south and then we’ll be able to lose them among the islands before turning back north.’

  ‘Will Kleopatra be all right, do you think?’

  ‘Don’t worry about her; no one would dare harm Alexander’s sister.’

  ‘And yet his mother fled?’

  Olympias spat over the rail. ‘The bastards wouldn’t dare kill me, their balls aren’t big enough, but they would incarcerate me if they had the chance; put me somewhere where I couldn’t influence the course of events, which would be worse than death for me.’

  ‘And now you plan to make Polyperchon’s life difficult in Macedonia which puts us on the same side even though there will be no formal alliance through marriage.’

  Olympias studied the Greek for a few moments. ‘You know what, Eumenes, I really do believe you. I see no guile in your eyes; you are genuinely fighting for my family which does put us on the same side and for the first time in my life I am actually happy to have an ally whom I can trust without having to bribe or coerce. Although, what we will be able to do to support one another, I don’t know, as you will be in the east and I will be in the west.’

  Eumenes smiled, surprised at the affection he felt for the woman whose deadly and fearsome reputation went before her. ‘Perhaps nothing, perhaps a great deal as neither of us can predict how this war will ebb and flow; but I promise you this, Olympias, I will do all I can to keep your daughter and your grandson safe in the east.’

  ‘I know, but first we have to get you back to the Hellespont.’

  Sigeum, at the mouth of the Hellespont, was a part of Hellespontine Phrygia and therefore technically under Krateros’ control; but he had yet to cross back to Asia with his army, and so it was that Eumenes had no fears as he was rowed ashore at midday on the third day out from Ephesus. With a hooded travel cloak wrapped around him, he watched the town come closer as the rhythmic dipping of the sweeps lulled him into a feeling of ease for the first time in many a month. Now that he had accepted the inevitability of war, the pressure of trying to prevent it had evaporated; all that remained for him to do was to prosecute the war as ruthlessly as possible and to make sure that the royalists won. But with what army; therein lies the problem. I have my Kappadokian cavalry, just over three thousand mercenary Greeks, half of whom are peltasts and half hoplites, some Thracian cavalry and infantry and a decent amount of Cretan archers and, apart from the Persians who volunteered to serve with me, very little else other than that chest of money I borrowed from Leonnatus. I need Macedonian infantry; but from where? Neoptolemus is unlikely to give me any of his – he’s unlikely to even accept my authority – and yet we have to prevent Antipatros crossing by working together. He let his fingers trail through the water as he assessed the situation; gradually, his face brightened as the way forward became clear. Of course: Neoptolemus is the problem; no Neoptolemus, no problem.

  And so, with a firm purpose, Eumenes jumped from the skiff and, with one look over his shoulder to Olympias’ ship hove-to five hundred paces off the coast, he set off to find the commander of the Greek mercenary garrison in the town to inform him as to whom he was.

  It was the first patrol that he came across that alerted Eumenes to the fact that something was amiss; they were Macedonian regulars, not merc
enaries. He, Eumenes, had none and Neoptolemus’ were further up the coast at Abydus. As his apprehension grew with the sighting of a second patrol, he replaced the hood of his cloak and instead of heading to the garrison headquarters made, instead, for the animal market where, at great expense, he purchased a horse and tack.

  The sun was beginning to fall into the west behind him as he climbed a hill above the point, six leagues from Sigeum, which afforded a high view over Abydus and on up the Hellespont, almost to where it opens out into the Propontis. Full of ships it was; and all were sailing from north to south, each one crammed with men. Along the Asian shore a city of tents had arisen; enough to shelter an army.

  It took a few moments to digest. Kleitos, you treacherous bastard; you’ve taken the fleet over to Antipatros.

  ANTIPATROS, THE REGENT

  ‘IT’LL TAKE ANOTHER couple of days at the most, sir,’ Kleitos informed Antipatros as they and Krateros watched the fleet, sails full-bellied with a northerly wind, progress with the majesty of numbers from Europe to Asia. ‘I need four more crossings for the army and then about three for the baggage.’

  Why is it always the baggage; all my life I have been hampered by baggage. Could my last campaign at least be free of baggage? But Antipatros knew that could never be so; it would be like wishing to have a woman free of opinions. ‘Very good, Kleitos,’ he said with a sigh, trying to ignore the man’s trident. ‘I must thank you for choosing to serve me; your fleet is a great addition to my cause.’

  ‘Our cause,’ Krateros reminded him.

  ‘What? Oh yes, our cause, Kleitos; well done.’

  ‘It was never really an issue. Once Perdikkas wrote to me saying that I had to accept the authority of a Greek, my mind was made up. He wrote the same letter to Neoptolemus and you can imagine what that Molossian prick thought of it.’

  Antipatros could well do, even though he had not seen the man for more than twelve years and then he had been a mere youth in armour slightly too big for him. He turned to Krateros. ‘What’s he like, this Neoptolemus?’