CHAPTER 199

 

Alexander created a quite elaborate strategy to deal with the Mallians and finished them as quickly as possible. He was no fool, he knew his men wouldn’t endure more hardships for a long and had to defeat the enemy and continue with journey before things became really ugly. The best course of action was to fall on the Mallians by surprise, before they had time to understand what was happening to them and so…

 

“He sent Nearchos to sail down the Acesines with the fleet, and Ptolemy was to follow Hephaistion’s route after a delay of three days. Alexander meanwhile crossed the desert region between the rivers with the intention of taking the Mallians off guard. He hoped that those of the Mallians who escaped southward would be driven into the arms of Hephaistion, while Ptolemy would lie in wait for those who attempted to escape to the west.”(1)

 

You seemed a little confused of what we were doing so, let me explain. From the Hydaspes River we travel south, looking for the Ocean, taking a branch of the Indus River called Acesines River. Now, the Indus River empties at the Arab sea, not the Ocean properly, but of course we had no way of knowing this. The region where the Mallians lived was like a triangle flank on 2 sides by rivers: the Acesines and Hydraotes, and these rivers met at one point at the south, where I was sent along with Nearchos.  Alexander’s main camp (with the baggage train and the camp followers) was built at the banks of the Acesines and, from there he march to attack the Mallian cities.

 

Once again I left alone, leaving behind Alexander and Achilles and, before you ask no, I was not with my King when he suffered the arrow injured that almost cost his life, but my son was with him…

 

— Commander, are you all right? –asked one his men but Hephaistion did not answer immediately.

 

He had orders to deal with the enemy, and stop whoever tried to escape, and was marching his men south to catch Nearchos, through the never-ending green of the plain that unfolded in front of them, when they stopped to rest for a while. The landscape was beautiful, adorned with pines, cypresses and the mountains as silent guardians always looking at them at the other side of the rivers. The water of the Hydraotes River was cold, since it came directly from the Himalayas, and the men found it gloriously refreshing after hours marching under the sun.

 

Hephaistion was surveying the surrounding on his horse, alert to any sign of the enemy, when a sudden…feeling assailed him. He did not know how to explain it, it was not a hunch, it was not pain, but…his heart hurt and a sensation that something terrible was going to happen clung to his soul— What is it? It was almost as if the wind were shouting without words, bringing terrible news of calamities yet to come.    

 

— Commander? –the man insisted and Hephaistion shook his head.

 

— It’s…nothing –the commander kicked his mount and continued his way while his men rested.

 

Let’s hope is nothing –he thought.

 

XXX

 

Sudracae

 

The King made his part of the Macedonian army advanced all the way to the city of Sudracae, attacking and subjugating town after town, destroying everything that dared to stand on their path. Alexander allowed his men to kill, butcher and loot at their will making this their King’s bloodiest campaign, displaying a cruelty they had never shown before.

 

Alexander fought several small battles, some more difficult than others, but all of them with the same result, his unstoppable phalanx advancing over the corpses of the Indians, a war machine moving forward with promises of doom. The enemy fled in great numbers, in a desperate attempt to save their lives from the deadly phalanx and, the survivors of the last battle, sought refuge, perhaps just in vain, inside the strong walls of Sudracae. But the King was not ready to let them go, to grant them even a moment of respite and, losing no time, he began preparations for a siege.

 

A siege was the last thing the men wanted, a siege was a dangerous bargain having troops with such a low moral and their thoughts and dreams far away, resting in the almost forgotten Macedonia, but there was no way to make Alexander changed his mind. These Mallians had defied him and he would not go until the city was his.

 

— We have faced worst –said the King to his officers, while striding to where the ladders were being brought in order to scale the walls. Achilles was with him, wearing his armor, attentive to everything that was said there— Tyre was a much more difficult task and we conquered it.

 

— Yes, Alexander but the men are tired –said Perdikkas, struggling to catch the King. For a man as short as he it was a wonder he could walk so fast.

 

— The men can rest when we get back home –Alexander snapped back— If we don’t take this place we’ll have the locals behind us all the way to the Ocean. I cannot have that.

 

We didn’t have to go to the Ocean; we could have gone back through Ambhi’s kingdom –thought Perdikkas but said nothing. It was pointless to bring up the subject, they were here now and had to face the wrath of the Indian tribes.

 

— Move men! I don’t have all day. Where are the rest of the ladders? –shouted the King and a sweaty exhausted man stopped to answer.

 

— They are coming, sire.

 

— Perdikkas, Leonnatos, see that the men are ready. We are climbing the walls –said Alexander for his friends utterly surprise.

 

— Now?! –exclaimed Leonnatos stupidly— But, shouldn’t we let the men rest?

 

— No, the enemy is not expecting us and so we must take advantage of this –said Alexander, when a bald short man came running to where he was, followed closely by one of his guards.

 

— Sire! Oh, powerful King, I have an urgent message for you –said the bald man. The King frowned.

 

— Who is this? –he asked his guard but the man answered first.

 

— I am a soothsayer, your Magnificence –the man bowed— I come to you with an urgent message from the Gods; a prophesy came to me last night, a warning of a great danger if your Divinity insists to take this city.

 

His words displeased Alexander greatly. The moral of his men was already dangerously low and, if rumors began to spread that the Gods were against the attack to the city, then this could very well get out of his hands.

 

— “If anyone interrupted you while you were about your professional business” – said the King, angry— “I have no doubt you would find it both tactless and annoying, correct?”

 

— Well, yes, sire, but…

 

— “Well, my business” –Alexander interrupted him—“Is the capture of this citadel; I don’t intent to let any superstitious crackpot stand in my way.” (2)

 

The Prince, the same as the King’s officers, remained perfectly still and silent but, for Achilles the whole episode was truly amusing. In his opinion, it appeared his adopted father only paid attention to omens when it was convenient to him, not when they stood on his way like this. Alexander ordered the man to be taken away and returned his attention to the city.

 

— Achilles –he called his Prince.

 

— Yes, father.

 

— Stay back with the men in reserve, I will see you after the battle.

 

— As you wish, father –and so Achilles parted ways with Alexander, leaving his adopted father to his business.

 

The Prince was no coward but now he was perfectly aware of his limitations and no longer insisted in joining the battle, unless his adopted father said otherwise. He went back to wait among the reserve troops and watched everything from afar. At first he did not understand why was the King taking so long to begin the assault and later, he was even more confused watching that only one ladder was raised— What’s happening? 

 

— It’s the King! –shouted a man at his side when a solitary figure appeared on the top of the enemy walls.

 

But he is alone –thought Achilles in alarm and then, Alexander disappeared, jumping inside the city.

 

What happened later was a complete a series of events wrapped in the worst chaos and madness the Prince had ever seen. The men went hysterical, trying to follow their King, rushing to the walls in great numbers, breaking the ladders under the tremendous weight of so many men trying to climb at the same time. For long moments, the Prince was confused, dazed, lost, not knowing what to do until, he finally made up his mind and drew his sword.

 

— Let’s go –he told Chrysaor.

 

— Go where? –asked the guard, as always standing close at his side to protect him.

 

— To the front of the battle, of course –and his valiant words made Chrysaor laugh loudly.

 

— Is a joke, right? –but the Prince was dead serious.

 

— If my father is in danger I have to go and help him.

 

— Achilles that’s the craziest shit I have ever heard –said his guard with all honesty— The King jumped inside the city, to reach him we’ll have to pass not only the enemy, but our own companions and you can see from here –he pointed at the mass of humanity in front of the walls— How are they all trying to enter at the same time under that rain of arrow.

 

He is right, but still, I cannot stay here –thought the Prince, clenching his fists.

 

— I know but I have at least to try –he insisted and Chrysaor sighed.

 

— Fine. Have it your way then. You are going to be the end of me one of these days, you know? –the guard too draw his sword and moved in front of him, opening the way the best way he could.

 

They advanced as they could through that human tide, reaching again the place that, before the battle, had occupied the King and his officers. Achilles was still trying to think what to do next when he saw Leonnatos and Peucetas, who was Alexander’s shield bearer, along with other men, bringing back the King severely injured, covered in blood from head to toe, lying unconscious on his own shield. The Prince’s heart skipped a beat. 

 

— What happened? –asked Achilles without voice.

 

— The King was shot! –answered his uncle Leonnatos, lying Alexander down while Perdikkas shouted, calling for a doctor. The Prince went pale, his adopted father looked dead, and the wound on his chest kept bleeding despite the men’s effort to stop the hemorrhage. 

 

Leonnatos too was covered in blood, sweating and injured but none of this seemed to matter to him at those moments.

 

— Shot? How? –the Prince was terribly scared and concerned and his voice, usually calm and detached from all emotion, trembled.

 

His uncle cleaned his forehead with the back of his hand, trying to order his ideas while shouts, screams and the metallic clang of weapons floated around them.

 

— Water –he said— I need water.

 

A servant ran to fetch water and only when Leonnatos had drank avidly, long thin threats of water running down his chin, he answered.

 

— Alexander ordered to climb the walls of the city –he explained to his very pale and very worried nephew— But no one wanted to do it. You know how the men had been since the…—he did not want to say mutiny— Since the Hyphasis. They did not want to fight, they are tired and sick of this, and Alexander was furious. He took a ladder himself and was the first one to climb and reach the citadel –Leonnatos shook his head remembering that, the shouts from the officers calling back the King, the desperation of the men to reach Alexander who had made himself an easy target to any amateur archer.

 

— And? –Achilles urged him to go on.

 

— For a moment Alexander was completely alone and surrounded by enemies on all sides –his uncle continued— Peucetas, Abreas and I reached him first and, when the rest of the men saw what was happening, they rushed to the walls desperately trying to save the King. It was madness! Everything happened so quickly…Oh, Gods! Phai will kill me.

 

— But what happened?

 

— Abreas died trying to protect the King, an arrow hit him full on the face –Leonnatos continued, hearing again, with all clarity, the terrible screams of his Companion as he fell in the middle of that chaos— And another arrow reached Alexander, piercing his breastplate and… Peucetas covered the King with his shield, the one he got at Ilium, and, as soon as the men arrived, we took Alexander out of the city. We couldn’t take the arrow out and Perdikkas had to cut it and then Alexander started to bleed badly and passed out and…the men went crazy! It’s a slaughter back there, they are killing women and children and everyone who stands on their way –Leonnatos pressed his hands against his eyes. He was exhausted and sick of all that blood and destruction.

 

This can’t be –thought Achilles, feeling his legs trembling— I am the Crown Prince, I am his son and I have to take care of him while daddy is away.

 

XXX

 

Alexander’s camp was far from Sudracae and taking him back to the banks of the Acesines, in his present state, was absolutely out of question. There was no other choice but sent messengers to the camp to bring everything necessary to treat the King, including his tent, and to built a provisional camp outside the walls. Inside the city was still anarchy and fire; this was the safest choice.

 

— Achilles, the King is seriously wounded –said doctor Philip that night, his cloths covered in blood and his forehead covered in sweat. He looked old, too old, years of campaign had also taken its toll on him, on every wrinkle on his face, on every white hair on his head— The arrow nearly missed his lung and heart but he lost a lot of blood.

 

The Prince felt a knot in his stomach, a cold hand griping his guts. He, the same as Hephaistion, trusted doctor Philip since he had saved the King’s life at Tarsus and his own after he was bitten by a bee; and, if he said his adopted father was badly injured then it was true.

 

— He will be fine, my father has been injured before –he said with a confidence he did not feel— At Gaza the King was also wounded and he survived. 

 

He desperately needed that to hear from the doctor that everything would be fine, even if that were a lie— This cannot be happening.

 

— And I trust the Gods will not abandon him now –said doctor Philip, he was tired— We have to make sacrifices to Asclepius and let the King rest –for a moment he did not know if what he had to say should be said to the Prince, but the boy behaved with such maturity that he decided to go on— Achilles, this is very important, we cannot move the King now, at least for a few days, he has to remain where he is or we’ll risk his life.

 

The Prince nodded.

 

— I will see to it –he said— Can I see my father?

 

— Of course.

 

To say Achilles was shocked and terrified to see his always healthy and strong adopted father so pale and so weak, was to say too little. For him it was impossible that a man like the King could be in such a sad condition, his skin as the snow, drained of all its color, his face almost gray and lifeless, and for a moment, for a terrible, horrible moment, the very real fear that the invincible Alexander could die overwhelmed him, filling his heart with dread— This cannot be happening.

 

And just as the Prince had done at Gaza years ago, he sat at the King’s side and cried as if his heart were tearing apart. Despite everything he said, and everything he had done, in those moments he felt again like a child, a small orphan boy of 3 years old lost in the burning streets of Halicarnassus. He was afraid of losing his adopted father, of being an orphan again, of being alone. 

 

— You… cannot die… dad…hic… –he cried, his face hidden in his arms crossed over the bed, his body shaking at each sob. And he cried and cried and cried for a long time until he fell asleep. 

 

XXX

 

— What is going on here? –asked Achilles next day, finding Alexander’s officers arguing and shouting insults at each other, looking so angry that more than one was at one step of drawing his sword and began a carnage. They looked like men who hated each other instead of brothers in arms who had fought side to side for almost 9 years.

 

No one paid the Prince the slightest attention, too concentrated in their own business and that made Achilles blushed in embarrassment. He had to take a deep breath and shout, with all the authority he could summon.

 

— ENOUGH! –his voice sounded like a weak squeal in his own ears, more like a girl’s shout instead of the booming order he had imagined, but it worked and the men turned to see him, more than one surprised to see the 13 years old boy there— What are you doing here arguing when your King is fighting for his life in the next room? 

 

I have to be strong, I have to be like my fathers –he thought gathering all his courage and praying that all these badass men did not notice his knees were trembling.

 

— Is he? Is the King alive? –asked Lysimachus son of Agathocles, raising an eyebrow in disbelief, his arms stubbornly crossed over his chest. He was a 34 years old man from Upper Macedonia whose father had enjoyed a privilege position in King Philip’s court.

 

Lysimachus was a somatophylax but Achilles had never spoken to this man of honey eyes and honey hair that always looked bored.

 

— He is, but none of you gentlemen have answered my question. What is going on here? –the Prince had never before addressed his father’s officers and the truth was they scared the hell out of him, especially together and angry.

 

— The men saw when Alexander was brought unconscious on his shield and the rumor that the King is dead began circulating –Seleucus was the one who answered and that only served to embarrass him. How could his dad managed to have his daddy in the same room?

 

Don’t blush. I cannot blush –he rebuked himself.

 

— Well, he is not. My father –Achilles reminded them who he was, stressing the word “father”— Is very much alive. Inform the men and end this immediately.

 

— The situation is not that simple –said Eumenes. He had always disliked the Prince for the very simple reason of being Hephaistion’s son, and now, that there was nobody here to protect him (the commander far with a part of the army and the King standing at the threshold of Hades’ domains) the royal secretary did not lose time to attack— The troops are scared, they feared to be left Kingless in the middle of hostile territory.

 

— But the King is alive –said Achilles again with all patience. Was Eumenes retarded? Now he began to understand why his father disliked him so much. 

 

— For how long? –asked Meleager, voicing the thoughts of all the present, even of Alexander’s friends— We all saw his wound, he lost a lot of blood and is very possible he won’t survive. What then?

 

— Then we take the fleet and go back to the Hydaspes River –said Perdikkas with all authority, as if they were his men.

 

— And who the hell put you in command to take decisions like that? –spat Laomedon son of Larichus, brother of Erigyius who was one the men King Philip had appointed as Alexander’s advisors along with Ptolemy, Harpalus and Nearchos.

 

Laomedon was now 44 years old and had enjoyed a privilege position among Alexander’s officers because he could speak Persian. He was not a handsome man, the same as his brother, and always had a hard expression on his face that now looked truly frightening to Achilles.

 

— Someone has to take decisions since all you do is talk –Perdikkas answered back.

 

Krateros snorted.

 

— And you are going to tell us what to do? –he said and they all began to argue again. What should they do? Who would command them? What route should they take? Should they ask for help? Continue the attack? Seek vengeance? Retreat?

 

Dear Zeus what should I do? –thought the Prince, feeling lost and confused. Achilles was very good analyzing situations and drawing good conclusions but, one thing was to judge a situation from afar and, another completely different to be part of the situation. He grabbed his cloths with force, as he used to do when he was little and scared and wished with all his forces his father were here to deal with these men.

 

— Achilles –said Seleucus approaching him, leaving the fighting behind, and the Prince turned to look at him with “confusing” written across his face— You are the Crown Prince, don’t forget that.

 

He is right –Achilles took a deep breath— Dad chose me to be his heir –he turned to look at the officers again— Kleitos would not be scared of them, he would call them “old women” for being arguing like this –the Prince breathed— Breath, just breath. Everything will be fine –he told himself, still holding his cloths tightly.

 

— I will speak to the men –again he successfully silenced them all, not because of his personal authority, of which he had none, but because they were taken by surprise. No one expected such a young boy there and taking part in their discussion.

 

The Prince looked at them, he forced himself to look, open his eyes and observed them all: Lysimachus, Laomedon, Perdikkas, Meleager, Leonnatos, Eumenes, Antigonus the One Eye, Krateros even Seleucus. He had never noticed before but, all these men in front him, had a very strong personality, they were all hard men, they all were impulsive and only Alexander was able to control them, to make them obey him.

 

But dad is not here, daddy either. I have to be strong –he breathed. He had their attention, now he had to seize the opportunity— Just breath. 

 

— I am the Crown Prince, I will speak to the men and assure them my father is alive –said Achilles, again, feigning a confidence he was far from feeling— The King will not die.

 

The Prince did as Alexander used to do. He looked directly at each one of the officers trying his best to hold their gazes— Don’t tremble, don’t be scared, they can smell fear. I am the Crown Prince and if dad dies I will be their King –he had never spoken in public before and the truth was that the sole idea terrified him, but he had to do it— Breath, just breath. 

 

— I agree –said Seleucus— I think is a good idea.

 

— Me too –Krateros nodded and after that, no one argued, not even Eumenes. Krateros and Seleucus held important posts and, if both were fine with this, they were not going to complain, besides, Achilles, boy or not, was their Crown Prince.

 

XXX

 

— Aki! –Perdikkas caught him before he left to prepare his speech. His first speech, it was important that he made a good impression and, since he did not have his adopted father’s booming voice or his father’s presence, he had to practice. Seleucus was at his side informing him about what was happening in the meeting before he arrived. Both turned when the hipparch appeared.

 

— Yes hipparch?

 

— You are a good son –said Perdikkas with a smile— Standing like that for Alexander while he is recovering, but you don’t have to do this.

 

Those words put Achilles’ senses on alert— I don’t have to do this? –he had never liked Perdikkas because of the way he treated him, but this? At his side, Seleucus watched the newcomer through narrowed eyes and, the same as the Prince, intrigued by his words.

 

— What do you mean, hipparch?

 

— I can addressed the men in your name –he said sweetly, taking the boy by the shoulder— Aki, you are still very young and fragile. During our march to the Hyphasis River you were in bed for days, barely breathing. But don’t worry –he patted his shoulder— I can help you to deal with this. 

 

He is doing exactly what I hate. Perdikkas is treating me like a girl or like an invalid –he thought but his face remained blank.

 

— Hipparch…

 

— Perdikkas, you don’t have to be this formal with me –he smiled but Achilles did not return the gesture.

 

— Hipparch, you have my gratitude for your concern but this is something I have to do by myself –the Prince answered— I will appreciate if you can summon your men, I will address them within an hour.

 

And without waiting for a reply he left Perdikkas, followed only by Seleucus— What the hell? —the hipparch felt stunned, but not by the Prince’s answer, but for the other man’s presence— Since when Seleucus is so close to Aki? –he had not failed to notice Seleucus had approached the boy at the meeting, nor the fact that he had been the first one to answer his questions and stand by him. Perdikkas did not like it, until that day, he hadn’t pay Seleucus much attention. That was about to change.

 

XXX

(1) Waldemar Heckel. The Marshals of Alexander’s Empire, p 70

(2) Peter Green. Alexander of Macedon, p 419