CHAPTER 78

 

It had been more than a year since the last time Alexander saw Barsine; that dreadful day when he had believed in her lies and, in vengeance for thinking that Hephaistion had slept with Memnon, he had bedded her. The truth was that the Macedonian King never thought he would hear from her again, and was very surprised to find her among the hostages Parmelio took in Damascus.

 

—What are you doing here? –asked Alexander when both of them were alone in his study. He knew what his men were going to think, they were going to say he was planning to make Memnon’s widow his mistress. This was the kind of stories the soldiers like: the handsome, brilliant and young King that stole the woman from his dead and defeated enemy. But he didn’t care; he had to talk to her, alone. 

 

Barsine took a seat and, carefully, laid her baby on her lap. She was at least 10 years older than him, but despite that, she was a very beautiful woman. One look at her told Alexander that she hadn’t suffered hardships since her husband died, and judging by the fact that Parmelio had found her among the relatives of the high Persian nobles, Barsine must have lived with every luxury at the court of the Great King. Then, why was she here?

 

—As I said, sire –she said with soft voice without looking at him directly—I asked General Parmelio to send me here.

 

—Why? –he was still angry at her after she tricked him; but one year latter his anger had cooled, and now Alexander could analyze the situation calmly.

 

—I have to talk to you about what happened a year ago –Barsine had always been a very confident woman, intelligent and prudent…until Hephaistion entered in her house catching her husband attention. Barsine knew that what she had came to say was very delicate but it had to be done, for her sake and her children; but, when she arrived and saw that the King had now a son, she started to doubt.

 

Barsine had no idea Alexander had get married, and now that he had an heir, things would be very difficult for her and her youngest son.

 

—I think there is nothing more to talk –said the King extremely serious—You know that you tricked me.

 

She nodded.

 

—And I regret it –said Barsine with honesty—The Gods have made me pay for that, and that is why I’m here.

 

—Speak clearly.

 

—I have a child of yours –that truly surprised Alexander, but his face remained the same: expressionless and making impossible for Barsine to know if he was angry, surprised, happy or confused. She decided to continue and take her changes—I know you have all the right to doubt my words, I lied to you once, but I’m not a dishonest woman.

 

She has changed –thought Alexander—No, maybe she was always like this but at that time, when we first met, she was angry, jealous and felt humiliated for what had happened between her husband and Phai.

 

He didn’t have to ask if the baby she had in her arms was his alleged son, because it was obvious that it was.

 

—How do I know this boy is not your late husband’s son? –asked the King, still without giving anything away. He wasn’t judging her, his voice neutral.

 

—Please…why would I lie now? –said Barsine trying her best to keep her voice still—I know my word has no valor for you, but I swear on my sons’ lives that I’m telling the truth, Herakles is your son.

 

Herakles? –thought Alexander—She is clever, choosing this name for him.

 

Alexander nodded.

 

—Lets say its true, and that…Herakles in my son –he said—What do you want?

 

Excellent question. Until now, after Memnon died, Barsine and her children had been under the protection of Darius; but Darius had been defeated and now her life, and her children’s lives, were in Alexander’s hands, a man she had tricked and the lover of the same man she had ill-treated in her house for catching the attention of her husband. 

 

Barsine was afraid. She had heard about the King’s bad temper and she knew that he wasn’t happy with her. Days ago, the only solution she could think, was going to him and present herself as the mother of his son, she knew he had no heir and, who knows, maybe Herakles could become a Prince. But Achilles had ruined her plans. Alexander had a son now, even if Barsine couldn’t explain with whom and when.

 

Achilles was a tall boy, like Hephaistion, and he looked older thanks also to his intelligence. If Achilles was Alexander’s son, and Barsine truly believed he was because they were more alike than Herakles was of the King, that would mean he had Achilles long before they met. She looked at her son, he was a beautiful baby of dark hair like her mother, pale skin and blue eyes, but he had some Persian features in him, like the nose and the shape of the face, the opposite of Achilles who was a Macedonian boy from head to toe.

 

But, is possible he has a bastard son –thought Barsine, remembering that Memnon had once told her Alexander wasn’t married—After all, I ignore many things about this man. 

 

—I just want to have a peaceful life with my sons –said Barsine at last, with all honesty and humility.

 

—I imagine you thought that I could have recognized your son as my heir –said Alexander successfully reading her mind, and Barsine’s blush only served to confirm his assumptions. 

 

—I know you have a son and an heir now.

 

—Yes, but even if I didn’t have one, I could have never recognized your son as my legitimate heir –said the King—You are Persian and you are not my wife, therefore your son can’t become the Crown Prince.

 

—I am not a whore –said Barsine with all dignity—I’m a noble woman, daughter of Artabazus who was satrap of Hellespontine Phrygia.

 

—Yes, Barsine. I didn’t mean to insult you and if I did, I apologize –the King softened his voice. This woman in front of him wasn’t the same woman who had lied to him a year ago, this Barsine was a widow and a hostage, her life was in his hands, and he had no reasons to humiliate her—But you are not Macedonian, and you don’t have the ancestors to be the mother of the next Macedonian King. I –he started to walk—Descend from Herakles and Achilles, my heir has to be worthy of the title.

 

She said nothing more, it was clear that all her plan had been foolish since the beginning.   

 

—Then, I apologize for taking your time, sire –said Barsine her dark eyes on the plate with fruit where several bees were happily flying. She was ready to take her child and go, but Alexander stopped her.

 

—Please wait. I said I can’t name your son as my heir but that doesn’t mean I’ll abandon you at your luck –Barsine lifted her head and saw him without understanding—I don’t know what I’m going to do with you, but meanwhile you can stay in the camp and send for your sons if you want.

 

Finally, she could smile.

 

—I thank you, sire.

 

—I’ll see that my secretary finds you suitable accommodations and…

 

—Father! –they both turned and found Achilles standing at the entrance. The boy had thought the King was alone, and was going to run at his side to show him something his turtle could do, but stop when he saw Barsine—I’m sorry for interrupting, I’ll wait outside.    

 

He was going to leave when Alexander noticed he was scratching his thigh insistently.

 

—Aki –the boy turned—Come here.

 

The King kneeled and lifted his chiton.

 

—He has a rash –said Barsine.

 

—No…this not a rash –Achilles’ thigh was swollen, the skin was red and, when the King touched it, it felt hot. The boy tried to scratch again, but Alexander took his hand. He had seen this before, in Mieza, and Aristotle had told him this was a reaction some people had to stinging insects—Aki, where was you? Before coming here.  

 

—I was with…—he started to pant— Eurycliedes… outside –he began to breathe with more trouble. 

 

—Aki? –he couldn’t breath and was panting as a man about to drown.

 

Alexander carried him, he threw all the things on his desk to the floor to sit him there. Barsine just stood up, embracing her son. The King started to think really hard about what had Aristotle said about this and how to treat this ailment.

 

Stinging insects, stinging insects, but what insect could have…? –but his answer came in the form of the group of bees, flying over the fruit. 

 

—Throw that away from here –said Alexander to Barsine, in that voice that made thousands of men do as he wished, and she ran to obey—Eurycliedes!

 

The guard came running with his sword ready when he heard the desperation in the King’s voice.

 

—Go for dr. Philip! NOW! –shouted Alexander, hearing Achilles fighting to breath, and the guard left. 

 

The King didn’t know what to do, and then Achilles passed out… He laid the boy on the desk feeling something he rarely experienced: fear. Why was this happening? He had seen in Mieza how one of the servants’ skin had swollen after being bitten by a bee, but never something like this, and Aristotle never mentioned him that someone could stop breathing from being bitten by a bee… unless bees in Asia were poisonous.     

 

Please father Zeus, don’t let Aki die –prayed Alexander.

 

Doctor Philip arrived without breath, he didn’t know what was happening and Eurycliedes just told him the Prince couldn’t breath, but he didn’t know more. 

 

— A bee bit him –explained the King without preambles, and doctor Philip ran to check him.

 

He lifted his chiton and saw the redness of the skin. The King was right, but…why couldn’t he breathe and why had he passed out?

 

What Achilles had was a severe allergy to bees, and he almost had an Anaphylaxis episode; of course now you treat that with Epinephrine, at my time you had to pray. Remember what I told Lucius about a man assassinating my son? Well, somehow, this man knew about this and used a honeycomb…Aki suffocated and died.

 

The only thing doctor Philip could think about was to treat Achilles as if he had been poisoned. He gave him an antidote and cut his tight to drain the area where it turned out 4 bees had stung him, taking care to remove the stingers. Minutes later, Achilles started to breath more normally and he fell asleep in his uncle’s arms. Alexander kissed his head, frowning when he saw the boy was blue around the lips. 

 

—What was that? –asked the King, tenderly caressing his head. Doctor Philip cleaned the sweat from his forehead, with the back of his hand, and shook his head.

 

—I don’t know –he said with honesty—I have never seen this before but…I think that bees are, somehow, poisonous for him. I’ll investigate more but, for the time being, don’t let him near these insects.

 

Alexander nodded.

 

—I’ll make an offering, to Zeus and Asclepius, thanking them for saving my son –he said. Very few things could scare him, so few that his men sometimes thought he was fearless, but he had feared that Achilles would die right there on his desk, and he felt like this not only because he loved him, also because he would be unable to face Hephaistion if that had happened.

 

—It’s a good idea –said the exhaust doctor.

 

XXX

 

It was night at Sidon and Hephaistion was lying face down on his bed, with a terrible headache. Xsayarsa had volunteered to stroke his head successfully helping to decrease the pain.

 

—It’s been 3 days since I get here, and I can’t found a King –complained the General, his voice drowned because he was speaking against the pillow. His hair was a silky fan, spread over the bed.  

 

—I would be surprise if you have found a King in 3 days –said the eunuch, feeling his nervous system dancing every time Hephaistion moaned softly, almost purring, feeling his expert hands on his head—Your problem is that you want to do everything quickly, and you have to be patience.

 

—I don’t have time to be patience –he said, still talking against the pillow—I can’t believe this people –he turned to rest his head on one side—They ask Alexander to choose a King for them, but they do everything in their power to influence Alexander’s friends in order to be elected King. Did you know? Paltibaal told me that some members of the Council sent gifts to Alexander’s closest friends. 

 

—That doesn’t surprise me –said the eunuch, pressing his temples with his thumbs—They have sent you wonderful gifts, and you returned them all –he shook his head—For someone so intelligent you sometimes behave like a fool. 

 

—I won’t take bribes.

 

—Why not? Just take the gifts, smile graciously and choose whomever you want.

 

—That would be dishonorable –Hephaistion scolded him.

 

—Details…and speaking of Paltibaal, he is crazy for you by the way –said Xsayarsa, like a gossipy old woman. The General sighed.

 

—I know…he insists in accompany me every time I go out, with the pretext of showing me the city –said Hephaistion—And he is very bold. Two times he had tried to buy me something at the market, 3 times he had wanted to invite me to eat and one time he tried to embrace me.

 

—If you want my opinion…

 

—Not particularly –the General muttered, making the eunuch frown.

 

—I will give you my opinion anyway –Hephaistion sighed, there wasn’t a way to silence him—I think this is the first time Paltibaal is attracted to a man…aren’t you going to ask why? 

 

—No…

 

—Well, I’m going to tell you anyway –Xsayarsa continued as if nobody had interrupted him—He is treating you like a woman, if I’m not wrong he even sent you flowers.

 

Oh, yes, he did that –thought Hephaistion, and that had been really awkward. He didn’t like flowers and didn’t know how to tell him he wasn’t interested in him. Since Paltibaal was his host’s brother he couldn’t be as direct as he wanted without being rude.

 

The General sat.

 

—I think I’m going to take a walk –he said standing up.

 

—At this hour? –it was late at night but the weather was great, a warm night with a beautiful Full Moon.

 

—I need to think –and with that he left the eunuch.

 

A peaceful walk around the house’s magnificent gardens was what he needed to put his thoughts in order. So, far he had learned many things talking with the people around the city, sharing drinks with the common citizens or in the sumptuous banquets of the wealthiest men that had invited him. But he couldn’t find a good candidate. He had thought Baldo, his host, would be a great King, he had many valuable qualities, but Baldo had refused saying that, according to Sidon’s custom, no one could be King, unless he had born of royal stock.

 

Royal stock? And where was he going to find a descendant of the original royal family?

 

—Can’t sleep? –Hephaistion turned, and found Paltibaal.

 

Oh, please no –thought the General.

 

—No –the Macedonian smiled at him, and Paltibaal almost sighed like a lovesick teenager—I have many things in my head. 

 

—I can tell –he walked at Hephaistion’s side—You are worried about this whole affair of choosing a King.

 

—Indeed I am.

 

—I heard you proposed Baldo to be King, and he refused –said Paltibaal, then he stopped and took Hephaistion’s hand—I would be King for you.

 

If, in other circumstances, Paltibaal had said this to him, Hephaistion would have thought that he was an ambitious young man, like many others. But he knew the Sidonian was telling this because he wanted to do something for him. The General was sure that if he told Paltibaal to go and jump off a cliff, he would do it.

 

—Thank you –he retrieved his hand— But your brother explained me that I have to find a descendant from the royal family of Sidon –said Hephaistion—The question is, where do I find this person? –he took one flower and let his eyes wandered around the garden, falling silent for a moment—This is a beautiful garden, I haven’t seen one like this before. 

 

Paltibaal nodded.

 

—My mother loved this garden –he explained—And she found a great gardener, a man named...That’s it! –he exclaimed, suddenly very excited—The gardener! 

 

—What about him? –asked Hephaistion very confused.

 

—The gardener is a man named Abdalonymus, oh by Baal! Why didn’t I think this before –said Paltibaal, speaking very quickly—Once, I heard my mother saying that Abdalonymus was a distant relative of the royal family. 

 

The General felt as if the sky were open and a ray of light were illuminating him. Finally Fortune was smiling at him. 

 

Next day, Hephaistion woke up early and went just with his brother to meet Abdalonymus. According to Paltibaal, this man lived outside the city, in the suburbs; he cultivated a splendid garden but was scarcely paid for his magnificent work. He was very good with plants, and many rich families hired his services, every now and then, to take care of their own greenhouses and gardens.

 

—Why are we coming to this place? –asked Lysanias, yawning. His brother had woken him up very early and he was still half asleep.

 

—I told you, we are going to meet the last descendant of the royal family of Sidon –said Hephaistion smiling. In the past 3 days he had been able to spend sometime with his brother, despite his work and the multiple meetings and banquets he had to attend. And he had to admit that Lysanias was a good boy, his problem was that he had the idea that his family didn’t expect much of him because of his older brothers, since he was the youngest, he felt he received only crumbs of love from his parents, and the remains of what his older siblings left. 

 

Now Hephaistion knew he had done wrong is treating Lysanias the way he did, his brother didn’t needed to be reminded that he was his superior, that only made things worst, he needed to know that, if he didn’t like to be seen as a nobody, he had to fight to be a better man.

 

—Why can’t we just summon him? –said Lysanias, rubbing his eyes.

 

—No. I want to meet him in his environment, and I don’t want him to know who I am –the General explained. 

 

—Why not?

 

—Because, this way I can see the real him –said Hephaistion catching his brother attention—If he knew I’m here to choose a King, he would try to impress me, to wear his best mask trying to deceive me. If I summon him, I’ll give him time to think, time to choose his words, time to prepare something –he shook his head— This way is better, I’ll see not only him, but also his garden.

 

—Why is a garden so important?

 

—Because, according to what Paltibaal told me, he has been taking care of it for years. Lys, you can judge a man paying attention of how he treats his inferiors, never his equals, and also by how he treats his things –said Hephaistion, the morning sun making his hair shine almost like gold—I want to see his garden to know more about him.

 

—Brother –this was the first time he called the General like this—If the gardener pleases you, would you choose him as King?

 

Hephaistion smiled.

 

—You are wrong Lys, I’m not looking for a man who would please me; I’m looking for a man who can be a good King. Of course that…here we could ask ourselves: what is a good King? Or a good King according to whom? –he said.

 

—What do you mean by that? –asked Lysanias confused.

 

—I’m not looking for a King who would be always grateful with Alexander for giving him this honor.

 

—No?

 

—I’m looking for something more important: loyalty –said Hephaistion with firm voice—I want to choose a man who would be loyal to Alexander, a man without vices, a man without major ambitions, a peaceful man and a man who loves this city. I don’t want a warlike King, a King who would seek more power and could become later a threat to us. You could say that I’m looking for a good King for us, but, do you think Darius would think the same? Take Alexander for example, would you say he is a good King?

 

—Yes, the best King –said Lysanias at once. 

 

—He is a good King for us –said Hephaistion—I can bet you that the Persians don’t think the same. The truth is Lys that there is no good and evil, everything is subjective; what is good for us is bad for the Persians, or what is good for you is bad for me. Kings are complicated creatures, you can’t label them, they are men with faults and strong points, but they also carry a burden over their shoulders, they have power over thousands of souls and can’t be judged like any other man because they face problems and situations that no other man face. 

 

Lysanias watched his brother with half open mouth. His brother was a truly wise man.

 

—I haven’t thought about that…–he said after a moment—To tell you the truth this is the first time I talk like this to someone. Iolaos isn’t very smart.

 

—I can tell –said the General, speaking of one of Antipater’s son and Lysanias best friend—Lys, I was wondering. Did you found an erastes?

 

—Oh –the page blushed. Since the whole affair with Alexander he hadn’t talk about this with his brother—Well, as a matter of fact yes, I found one.

 

—Great! Who is he?

 

—Philotas son of Parmelio –the smile left Hephaistion’s face.

 

—Who?

 

—I know you don’t like him –Lysanias explained quickly—But he has been very nice with me.

 

Of course he has been very nice –thought the General, cursing silently. He knew why Philotas was doing this and didn’t like it.

 

—Do you like him? –Hephaistion wanted to know.

 

—Yes, I guess…he is not as attractive as the King…sorry –the page apologized immediately.

 

—It’s fine, I’m not going to get angry just because you think Alexander is attractive –Hephaistion smiled—Go on.

 

Lysanias nodded, feeling better.

 

—He asked me if I wanted to be his eromenos and I say yes –he continue—I mean, he is Parmelio’s elder son and the hipparch of the hetairoi cavalry.

 

—How long have you been together?

 

—I think…a month –now the page was fully awake.

 

—And have you…slept with him? –his brother blushed savagely and nodded.

 

Hephaistion decided to say nothing. Lysanias looked happy with Philotas, and he didn’t think it would be a good idea to tell his brother than Philotas was obsessed with him, so he remained silent hoping for the best.

 

It took them a while to reach the right place, they didn’t knew the city well, but Hephaistion didn’t want to attract attention coming here with a guide, and he also wanted to meet this Abdalonymus guy with all calm, without pressure and spies.

 

The sweet perfume of flowers welcomed them, along with the cool radiating from the plants. Hephaistion dismounted and, he and Lysanias, tied their horses to a near tree.  

 

It was a beautiful place, but not only that, it was clear that the man who took care of this garden loved it, and his feelings could be perceived here. Hephaistion closed his eyes, and relaxed, letting the soft breeze played with his hair. This was the kind of place where a man could let his mind rest, and he was very grateful for being able to do that, the last days had been very stressful and he had had to use all his diplomatic skill to not insult anyone and collect as much information as possible about the city. 

 

He didn’t know for how long had him been standing there, while his brother explored the place, when he heard steps. He opened his eyes and found a middle age man near him. The man was watching him with eyes wide open; he had been collecting weeds when he found that living monument to male beauty standing in the middle of his garden. For a moment, he thought Adonis had fallen in the midst of the flowers and, he had to wait until Hephaistion talk to realize he wasn’t dreaming.

 

—I’m sorry for intruding –said the Macedonian, walking to where the man was. The gardener felt like a stupid, standing there, with big round eyes, a bucket in one hand and his tousled hair covered with traces of soil—I’m looking for a man named Abdalonymus –the man kept staring at him as if he didn’t understand the question and Hephaistion started to fear he didn’t speak Greek. Now he was regretting his decision of coming alone—Do you know him? –he tried again, enunciating. 

 

Abdalonymus? Abdalonymus! –he man woke up, and shook his head.

 

—I’m Abdalonymus my lord –he said at last—What can I do for you?

 

—My name is Hephaistion son of Amyntor, I came to see you because I heard you are a very skilful gardener –said the Macedonian.

 

—You flatter me, my lord –said Abdalonymus, leaving his bucket on the ground; he smelled strongly to earth and grass—I’m just a common gardener.

 

—But this place is beautiful; I have never seen a garden as beautiful as this one –the gardener’s eyes shone with pride.

 

—I’m glad to hear you enjoy it, plants, like all living creatures, deserved respect, I respect them and they in return honor me with their beauty and peace. The merit is not mine, it’s the plants choice to blossom here –it was clear that this man loved his job and loved this garden.

 

I have never seen Abdalonymus before, but there was something in his voice, in his eyes, inside his words that made me see that he was the best candidate to be King. Why? Because he was a selfless man, a man who cared about others. If he respected a plant, then he would respect human lives, and tried to be a good King.  

 

—I heard a story in the city –said Hephaistion, catching the gardener’s attention—I heard you descent from the old royal family of Sidon.

 

Abdalonymus scratched his head.

 

—My father used to tell me that story –he said, watching his dirty nails and calloused hands—Apparently my great grandmother was cousin of the last King of Sidon…it has been a while since the last time I talk about it…I suppose it doesn’t matter now. 

 

—It matters for me –said Hephaistion intriguing him.

 

XXX

 

—How long are you planning to stay in Tyre? –asked Ptolemy, walking at Alexander’s side around the camp.

 

The King was carrying Achilles, who had his head resting on his shoulder. After what had happened the day before the boy was very low, his leg was still itching; he didn’t want to be alone, and Alexander didn’t want to leave him, so he was checking his troops with Achilles in his arms. 

 

—Not long, I want to reach Egypt as soon as possible and cut all communications the Persians have with the Aegean, this way they would never be a threat to Greece by sea –said Alexander.

 

Ptolemy nodded.

 

—What if Tyre refuses to surrender the city? –he asked.

 

Alexander had thought about that, and he knew that if Tyre refused to recognize his authority things would be very ugly. Tyre was extremely important, strategically speaking, the same as Sidon, he needed to isolate the Persians from the sea, and Tyre had to fall in one way or the other. But he didn’t want to tell Ptolemy all this, this was only the kind of things he shared with Hephaistion because Hephaistion could understand him…Ptolemy would say that it was impossible to take Tyre by force, and gave him one thousands reasons of why that plan was doomed to fail and tell others about what he was planning. And, in case the worst happen, his officers would already be predisposed that to take Tyre was impossible. No. They couldn’t know about his plans.

 

—If that happen, we’ll see –that was what Ptolemy got for an answer and he knew it was pointless to ask more.

 

—I knew I’ll find you here –they turned and found Hephaistion standing near them. Alexander’s smile couldn’t be wider. 

 

—Daddy! –exclaimed Achilles, now a little more cheerful.

 

—Why are you carrying Aki? –asked the General frowning, his son didn’t look well, he was very pale.

 

—Long story…but he is fine –the King hurried to explain—What are you doing here?

 

—You sent me to choose a King and I have a candidate, so now the decision is yours –Hephaistion explained.

 

—Where is he?

 

—Waiting at your tent.

 

—I’ll go now; I want to finish this business and continue the journey –Alexander was going to leave… 

 

—Alexander –Hephaiston stopped him.

 

—Mm?

 

—Give Aki –said the General smiling. Ptolemy laughed, truly the King was so used to having Achilles with him that he didn’t notice he was still carrying him.

 

—Yes, of course.

 

Many people were very angry about my choice; especially the aristocracy of Sidon that couldn’t believe a mere gardener was going to be their King. But Alexander was very please with Abdalonymus, and I don’t have to say that Abdalonymus was ecstatic with the news. And time probed me right, he was indeed a good King, and know he is remember for the famous Alexander Sarcophagus, a piece of stone with magnificent carving where you can see Alexander…and me of course.

 

After Sidon was secured, we continued our march, oblivious to the dangers that were waiting for us in Tyre.