CHAPTER 113

 

The Great King, standing like a statue over one of the hills that surrounded that plain, watched how his men worked tirelessly to prepare the battlefield, cleaning it of any rocks, trees or protuberances leveling the ground for his scythed chariots and massive cavalry numbers. His personal escort conformed by the elite warriors, the Immortals, stood near him, ready to act in case any danger came upon the master they had sworn to protect with their lives, his magnificent cloths and armors were only overshadowed by the opulence of the Great King. 

 

Darius’ great plans for a crashing victory at Cunaxa were nothing more than a sweet illusion now, or maybe they had always being just that, nothing more than an illusion, a fragile dream that had vanished like smoke. The Great King Artaxerxes II had crushed his brother’s army at Cunaxa, obtaining an epic victory, but he, Darius III, would pass to history as even a greater man with a much greater victory against a ferocious enemy.

 

The Macedonian King hadn’t taken the route Darius had predicted, Alexander was heading to Babylon, that much was obvious for everyone; if he intended to become the Great King, the undisputable ruler of the biggest empire of the known world, then his goal was easy to elucidate, he had to take the most important cities of the Persians: Babylon, Susa, Persepolis, Pasargadae and Ecbatana. And closest was the ancient city of King Nebuchadnezzar.

 

Darius, with the support of his military council, had decided that the best curse of action was to move his vast army to this point “a village between the Khazir River and the ruins of Nineveh”(1) Here they would wait for the invader, and this place would become his resting place.

 

The Great King’s eyes surveyed the distance, absorbing the sight and letting it to arouse his imagination. This was the perfect place to defeat the invader, with the ruins of the once proud Assyrian city as witness of the Persian power. Long ago, before Cyrus the Great were born, before the Persians of the Achaemenid dynasty became the masters of the world, Nineveh had been a crucial point between the Mediterranean Sea and the distant Indian Ocean; long ago, before the Greeks knew about the richest of Asia and it’s mountains of gold, this ruins had been the home of a proud nation until the Medes and Babylonians ended with the glorious Assyrian Empire.

 

Yes, this was a fitting place to end with great ambitious, a perfect tomb to bury dreams of greatness and everlasting glory, and the shattered skeleton of Nineveh would be here, like a ghost, a shadow of dead brooding over the Macedonian army as an angel of death.

 

According to his scouts Alexander had crossed the Tigris, he was so close, so close now. Darius closed his eyes and took a deep breath, he had issued orders to spread the rumor among the Macedonian soldiers that he, the Great King, would give them splendid rewards if they kill or betray their barbarian King. He smiled. Greeks or Macedonians, it didn’t matter the name, both were one and the same, greedy creatures easy to buy and easy to manipulate, and the proof were the thousands upon thousands of mercenaries under his command.

 

He had more Greeks in his army than Alexander. So much for the barbarian’s so called Pan-Hellenic crusade. Darius smiled. His plan was perfect and all he had to do now was sit and wait for the invader to appear and seal his destiny.

 

XXX

 

Alexander had known, for some time now, the size of the Persian army, Dolon had told him that the Great King had managed to assemble a force of 100, 000 men from every corner of his vast empire, and not only that, a very respectable number of 10, 000 were Greek mercenaries. But, this information didn’t become public until one of his officers, Ariston and his Paeonian mounted scouts, defeated a small Persian squadron on a reconnaissance mission. Ariston captured the Persian commander, and one of his scouts, and, in an impressive display, he cut the commander’s head and laid it at the King’s feet in the presence of the entire army.

 

The men had been delighted with this, they had cheered, shouted, applauded before the macabre spectacle of the severe head at the feet of their King; but their good mood disappeared after their Persian prisoner gave them precise details of the composition of the Persian army waiting for them. This only served to confirm Alexander’s information, and thanks to this he was the only one who remained calm while his captains, officers, commanders and Generals got paled.

 

- 100 thousand men –repeated Meleager without voice, during that morning’s meeting at the King’s tent.

 

The war council had suddenly become very quite, after Eumenes had read to them the report of the prisoner’s confession. This was exactly the reaction that the King had expected and he was ready to deal with them.

 

- That’s just the word of a prisoner, too scared of the very real possibility of torture to be reliable –said the King with calm, his fingers interlaced in front of his eyes.

 

In his heart Alexander knew that this number, 100,000, was exaggerated, it could be almost impossible to mobilize so many men, let alone to feed them. He was sure the Persian army was big, they always were very numerous, but not that big.

 

- Even if he is exaggerating Darius’ army can’t be much smaller than this –said Nicanor carefully, he too thought this number was almost impossible, probably the prisoner had said the first thing it came into his mind, but he also thought it couldn’t be so far from the truth—We only have 40 thousand men, they outnumber us at least 3 to 1.

 

- 47 thousand –Alexander corrected him, still not giving anything away—And? I thought that each of my men were worth 10 barbarians –his lips curved in a half smile. He surveyed his officers’ faces but many avoid looking directly at him. 

 

- The scouts said that the Persian army can be seen from the hills –said Parmelio slowly—I don’t know if there lay 100, 000 men, but, for what they say I can tell you that there lay the biggest army I have ever heard about. 

 

Parmelio was old, 69 years old, and precisely because of this his word was always taken seriously. Even if that weren’t true, and the Persian army were much more smaller, just for the fact that the all mighty Parmelio had said that, then it had to be true. Alexander hated when that happened. Many times he had thought that the old General was more a nuisance than anything else.

 

- We should try to solve this in a diplomatic way –said Parmelio added. He was a brave man but also very prudent, and he, with all his years of experience knew that, to beat an army of that size with just 47, 000 men was suicide.

 

- We have talked about this, Parmelio –the King made an effort to remain calm, he hated to repeat himself—If Darius wants to keep his throne he would have to fight for it; Asia can’t no more support 2 monarchs than the earth can no exist with 2 suns (2) Besides, his wife just died yesterday in childbirth, do you think he is going to be in the mood to negotiate after that?

 

- He doesn’t have to know –said Perdikkas in a thin voice, wanting to disappear. Only Alexander, Hephaistion and Leonnatos knew that the child was his but that didn’t serve to make him feel any better.

 

- Too late for that –said Hephaistion, who until that moment had been silent—A eunuch escape last night and went straight to the Persian camp, Darius should know by now what happened to his wife.

 

Perdikkas saw his hands feeling the worst person on the planet. Nobody had asked the King directly who had slept with Queen Stateira, because it had been 2 years since the last time she was with her husband and there was no way in which the baby could be Darius’; but everybody thought the same thing, that Alexander was the father and that had only added points to Perdikkas’ guiltiness. He wanted to explain everything but the King had forbid him to talk about this.

 

If the men wanted to think that he had slept with Queen Stateira then that was their problem, it was better this way than letting the whole camp, and most probably also the Persian court, to know that a simple taxiarch had taken advantage of the Persian Queen.

 

- We can’t win against an army like that –said the old General, successfully ending with the King’s patience.

 

- We can and we will because I am commanding this army –nobody spoke—We’ll march tomorrow morning, you are all dismissed. 

 

XXX

 

- Alexander –Parmelio approached the King at the end of the meeting, while the rest left. Hephaistion, who always stayed at then, seeing the veteran General’s expression, left them alone—I took care of “that” problem.

 

Alexander understood immediately without further explanation. A couple of days ago Parmelio’s men had intercepted a man sent by Darius with orders of spreading the word that the Great King would reward any man who kill or betray Alexander. News that hadn’t pleased in the least the Macedonian King, the affair of Alejandro of Lyncestis was still too fresh in his mind.

 

- Trust me, our friend is not going to talk again –the King nodded. At least now he didn’t have to worry about that.

 

- Well done –Alexander took Parmelio by the shoulder—Go to rest General, we’ll advance tomorrow.

 

The old General didn’t leave immediately, he considered for a moment the possibility of insisting again in solving this conflict by a diplomatic way, to try to convince the King and avoid a massacre next day, but one look at his uneven eyes told him it would be a waste of time and he knew better than to try Alexander’s patience.

 

- Health to you, Alexander –it was better this way, he would achieve nothing enraging the King and so far, Alexander had always led them into victory. He would trust the young King, that could have been his grandson, and would pray to all the Gods in Olympus to be wrong about the Persian army. 

 

Hephaistion waited until Parmelio had disappeared behind the door and walked towards the King.

 

- What do you think? –asked Alexander, sitting on a couch and letting his mask down, the mask of the unbeatable King, the disguise of the God of war, to be again just a man seeking an honest advice.

 

- About the size of Darius’ army? –his beloved took a seat at his side, pushing the King slightly to make room for him.

 

- About everything –Alexander was glad to be able to feel Hephaistion’s body so close to his. His beloved’s warmth always calmed him down, and to hear his steady breathing was like lying at the side of a river in a hot afternoon, hearing the birds singing and the soft breeze moving the leaves, like a whisper, so refreshing.

 

- I think that Darius does have a numerous army –said his beloved—We should go and take a look for ourselves.

 

- I don’t have time for that –said Alexander, sighing—Besides, we can’t, the Persians scouts are everywhere it would be dangerous and I don’t want to be seen by the men sneaking to the hills, I want them to know without any doubt that I’m sure of what I’m doing.

 

- Do you?

 

- What?

 

- Do you know what you are doing? –if any other person had asked that, the King would have exploded in one of his famous rages, but not with Hephaistion, never with him.

 

- I’m sure, it’s just…—he took his time to arrange his thoughts—I want this battle, not only for my pride and for myself, but also because I know this is the only way to end the war. The Persian Empire is huge, if we have to fight all our way at every corner of this vast place, we would never conquer it. But, if we defeat the Great King in front of his satraps and the Persian court, if we capture him tomorrow…we can end this in one day.

 

- I know –said Hephaistion, brushing Alexander’s blond hair back—But I’m oblige to tell you that Parmelio does have a point. 

 

- Then, there is just one way to prove him wrong –said the King, closing his eyes to enjoy his beloved’s touch—Win tomorrow’s battle. 

 

The General laughed softly.

 

- You make it sound so easy –he said, wrapping one of his blond locks on his finger—At your side, everything is possible.

 

Those words made the King smile.

 

- Do you truly think so?

 

- When have I lied to you in order to please you? –Hephaistion questioned him.

 

- Point taken…–they fell silent for a moment. They could hear the voices of the officers outside, still talking about the meeting, even if they couldn’t distinguish clear words they could sense the emotion in their voices, all of them were scared, nervous, excited, worried and anxious—You have defeated Darius’ forces twice, we can do it a third time –he said to himself, not really looking for an answer. 

 

- Your hair is much longer now –said Hephaistion, still playing with his locks.

 

- And you, General, cut yours…again –Alexander turned to look at him.

 

- When are you going to drop this?

 

- When your hair grows again –said the King stubbornly—And don’t think for a moment that I forget about what you did at Mazaeus’ camp.

 

- What I did? I built your damn bridges, sire.

 

- You went alone with 2 men into the enemy camp and were almost killed –Alexander had heard the whole story from Nikandros because in Hephaistion’s report he had “forgotten” to mention the fact that Mazaeus had them surrounded and it had been just for the satrap’s goodwill that they still had their head on their shoulders.

 

Hephaistion sighed, and dropped his hands on his lap.

 

- Nothing happened, I’m still here and the mission was a success –he said.

 

- But you were almost killed –this time the King raised his voice.

 

- Almost doesn’t count.

 

- Don’t play with me, Hephaistion –now he was starting to get angry—It was reckless to do that and you know it.

 

- Then what? Would you have preferred to have your bridges incomplete? –the General held his gaze challenging him.

 

- I prefer to keep you alive!

 

- I’m tired of this discussion, how many time are we going to argue for the same thing? I can’t be in the army without taking risks –Hephaistion used to be the prudent one but this was a subject that always enraged him— I can’t be safely inside my room surrounded by guards. You sent me on a mission and I did what I consider was necessary to fulfill my assignment. Or are you going to tell me now that I’m not going to take part in tomorrow’s battle because you don’t want to endanger me? 

 

- You are mocking me.

 

- And you are insulting me!

 

They both fell silent.

 

- I don’t want to argue with you –said Alexander softly.

 

- Me neither.

 

- Promise me you are not going to do something like that again, that you are going to be me careful in the future –asked the King and Hephaistion smiled.

 

- You know I can’t promise you that –the General took his face in his hands—I would always risk my life to protect you, but –he leaned his forehead against Alexander’s—I can promise you that I’ll be more careful in the future. 

 

- I guess… —the King leaned closer, brushing his beloved’s lips with his own, whispering— I have to get use, after all this is who you are, and I wouldn’t have you in any other way.

 

Hephaistion kissed him, forcing him to open his mouth to receive him.

 

- I can give you my word that I won’t die on a battlefield –he said, sure of every word.

 

- And, how can you possibly know that? –asked Alexander amused—Did you dream that?

 

- I don’t have to –said the General with self-sufficiency—I know of what I’m capable of, and no one can beat me on a battlefield.

 

Alexander kissed him this time.

 

- You must better be telling me the truth because I would never forgive you if you fall tomorrow –he whispered against his lips.

 

- I won’t.

 

XXX

 

The officers were leaving the King’s tent in duos or trios, talking or whispering their opinions and thoughts about the meeting and, on the way out, Meleager ran to catch Perdikkas and Leonnatos, crashing against several men who, as an answer, cursed in the most colorful way against the taxiarch, remembering him of his mother and all his family.

 

- We are in for some trouble, eh? –said Meleager, walking between the 2 friends. Leonnatos sighed.

 

- Do you truly think Darius has an army that big? –the newcomer shrugged.

 

- Who knows? Alexander thinks the reports are exaggerating but…

 

- But? –Perdikkas insisted.

 

- I, for one, believe Parmelio, he may be old but he knows his business –said Meleager dead serious and Leonnatos laughed.

 

- What’s so funny? –Perdikkas wanted to know.

 

- Nothing, I was just remembering that Eni likes to call Parmelio “Pami” –said Leonnatos, smiling.

 

- “Pami”? Seriously, Eni has a problem giving names to people –said Perdikkas shaking his head. So far his friend’s wife hadn’t given him one…that he knew, because he had also heard Berenike calling Ptolemy “Toly”.

 

Krateros and Polyperchon passed at their side deep in conversation, and following them came Koinos and Kleitos.

 

- Speaking of which, I heard your wife is pregnant –said Meleager and Kleitos turned so quickly when he heard those words that it appeared as if someone had pulled his face.

 

- Yes, 6 months –said a very happy Leonnatos—I truly hope it’s a boy because in my family there is an overpopulation of women, I have 5 sisters, FIVE!

 

Meleager patted his back.

 

- I think congratulations are in order and –he added dropping his voice—I hope, for our sake, that Alexander is right and the reports are exaggerated.

 

Kleitos left the King’s tent leaving behind Leonnatos, Meleager and Perdikkas and went striding to look for Berenike. He had no idea that she was pregnant. After that kissed they had shared at Tyre, he had seek her every time Leonnatos wasn’t around, until he had finally could kiss her again and eventually they slept again. The hipparch couldn’t be happier, and for weeks everything had went fine until Berenike started to hide from him again.

 

Kleitos understood she felt guilty; they never had an affair properly because she was always turned between what she wanted to do and her feeling towards Leonnatos. He knew Berenike loved Leonnatos but she desired him. The hipparch was all right with that until, one day, she had started to be extremely cold around him. He didn’t know what had happened and never could talk to her, but now everything started to have sense.  

 

- Sir, I…

 

- Not now –the hipparch didn’t let one of his men to speak and kept walking. He knew there were many preparations to be done before the battle next day, but, right now, his mind was in other place.

 

He found Berenike near the Persians’ tent, in a fresh spot where a soft breeze was blowing. She was sitting in front of her daughter, teaching her history with the help of a very old parchment that Hephaistion had lend her. Amyntas was already 8 years old and, since Leonnatos was named as one of the Somatophylakes, a very reluctant Kallisthenes had agreed to teach him, but there was no way in which they could make Aristotles’ nephew to teach a girl.

 

Girls were taught at home, except for dancing and music classes.

 

So, Berenike, with the help of Thais, had been tutoring her in geography, philosophy, history, literature, arithmetic, music, geometry and astronomy. Thanks to Amyntor, Berenike had taken classes at home with his older brothers, she didn’t know as much as Hephaistion or Nikandros, but she was more educated than many women of her time. 

 

And Berenike was teaching her daughter to read and write and now, at her 6 years old, little Sophia was also learning Greek. She knew she should be teaching her daughter to cook or to embroider, to sing or dance, but Berenike had the crazy idea that her daughter would be more than a simple housewife, how? She had no idea, but she was sure of that, and Thais had been fascinated with the idea of having a little student.

- Mommy, why did the Persians invade Greece? –asked Sophia, her elbows on her thighs and her long chocolate hair sliding through her shoulder.

 

- Well, because King Darius I was a conqueror, sweetie, and as all conquerors he wanted to expand his lands –said Berenike, not very sure of her explanation, Thais was the one who taught her history but the hetaira was busy that day.

 

Sophia had turned out to be smarter than Amyntas, and she always asked the most difficult question, wanting to know every detail and sometimes neither her mother or Thais didn’t have all the answers. 

 

If only that horrible man of Kallisthenes had agreed to teach my little princess –thought Berenike.

 

- But why Greece? –Sophia insisted.

 

- I don’t know, honey –her mother sighed.

 

- After the battle of Marathon, the Great King surrendered?

 

- Yes.

 

- Why? He had a big army and he didn’t tried again.

 

Berenike was going to open her mouth when a laugh made her turn. It was Kleitos and she went paled. After months avoiding him, there he was, standing a few paces from her.

 

- A woman teaching history, I always knew you were something, lass –said the hipparch walking to them.

 

- What are you doing here? –Berenike asked in a cold tone that caught Sophia’s attention. She had never heard her mother talk like that.

 

- I want to talk to you.

 

- But I don’t.

 

Kleitos sighed.

 

- You are pregnant –he decided to go straight to the point. 

 

- That much is obvious –said Berenike not looking at him. Under her loose dress a small round belly could be seen. The hipparch was going to open his mouth again but she knew what he wanted to ask—No! –Kleitos saw her taken aback—I know what are you thinking and I know why you came here, and the answer is no. 

 

- How can you know for sure? –the hipparch needed to know. What if she was carrying his child? He didn’t have children and he…felt something for her, something he couldn’t explain with words, he had never been good with words. 

 

- Women know…these things –said Berenike, trying to sound sure of her words, but she couldn’t fool him. 

 

- What things? –asked Leonnatos, standing a few paces from them. Berenike saw him as if he were a ghost and seriously feared she was going to faint. How long had he been there? 

 

- Daddy! –exclaimed Sophia, smiling—Daddy its so good you came, mommy doesn’t know why the Persians invaded Greece. 

 

Leonnatos laughed.

 

- And why do you want to know this?

 

- I’m curious.

 

Leonnatos sighed. If only Amyntas were like his sister. Kallisthenes had agreed to teach the boy after practically begging him for weeks, but Amyntas wasn’t Achilles, and the difference between the 2 of them was too big to be ignored. Achilles, in one word, was brilliant, Amyntas was more interested in physical activities than intellectual ones, which was good, in part, he was an excellent rider and could run for long periods of time, he would be an excellent soldier one day but had serious problems paying attention. 

 

Since nobody was playing him attention, Kleitos turned and left them for Berenike’s relief. The hipparch would have to talk to her again; he needed to know and didn’t believe one word of what she had said.

 

- What did Kleitos wanted? –asked Leonnatos, watching his superior officer leaving.

 

- He…em, came looking for Nick –she lied—I think my brother owns he money.

 

- It’s a bad idea to bet against Kleitos –said her husband shaking his head, apparently he hadn’t heard anything important—What are you doing here?

 

- Trying to teach Sophia history –Berenike explained, showing him the parchment.

 

- No, I mean here –Berenike frowned, she didn’t understand what he meant—I don’t want you near the Persians’ tent.

 

- Why not?

 

- You didn’t hear? Queen Stateira died in childbirth –said Leonnatos—I think its bad luck if you stay near this place in your condition.

 

How was that I didn’t thought that? –said Berenike to herself. She wasn’t as superstitious as the rank soldiers, but she, the same as Leonnatos, avoided places where people had died recently. They both believed their spirits still wandered for a while.

 

- Fine –Berenike stood up and was going to pick her things up but her husband didn’t let her and he did it himself.

 

Once again, Berenike felt like the worst person for cheating a man like Leonnatos but, sometimes, she felt trapped and bored, she wanted to do so many things and she couldn’t. Now that she thought this carefully her relationship with Kleitos had been her act of rebellion, a way of doing what she wanted instead of what she had to. But…she wasn’t happy, after all what had happened between her and the hipparch she wasn’t happy and didn’t feel better. 

 

 

XXX

 

(1) Peter Green. Alexander of Macedon, p 285

(2) Peter Green. Alexander of Macedon, p 287