Alexander: Child of a Dream (24 page)

 
something that froze him there in astonishment, against the trunk of the tree concealing him from the people around the statue. An enormous snake had come out from below ground and had slithered to the statue of the god before starting to wind itself slowly about his mother’s legs.
Olympias still did not move, her limbs rigid and her eyes staring fixedly into space. It was as though she neither heard nor saw anything of what was going on. Another snake came out from below ground, and then another and another after that and they all wrapped themselves around the Queen’s legs.
The biggest of them all, the one which had appeared first, lifted itself up above the others and wrapped its coils around Olympias’ body until its head was above hers.
The frenetic music had stopped suddenly, the masked figures had retreated to the edges of the clearing taken
aback, almost frightened by this supernatural event. Then the snake opened its jaws wide, flicked its slender forked tongue and proceeded to make the same noise Olympias had made with her flute, a most fluid, intense note, dark and trembling like the voice of the wind among the oaks.
The lamps went out one after another and in the moonlight Alexander saw only reptile scales flash in the half-shadow and then disappear into nothing. He let out a deep sigh and wiped the cold dripping sweat from his forehead When he looked again in the direction of the small tumbledown shrine, the clearing was completely empty and silent, as if nothing had happened.
Suddenly he felt someone touch his shoulder and he turned sharply with his sword in his hand.
‘It is I, my son,’ said Olympias, looking at him with a surprised expression. ‘I woke up and I saw that you had gone What are you doing here?’
Alexander put out his hand towards her, almost as though he didn’t believe what he was seeing
‘But what are you doing here?’ the Queen asked him once more.
Alexander shook his head as though trying to rouse himself from a dream or a nightmare and he met his mother’s gaze, her eyes darker and deeper than the night.
‘Nothing,’ he replied. ‘Let’s go back.’
The next day they got up just as the sun was beginning to sparkle in the water of the spring and they set off again in silence towards the west. It was as though neither of them dared speak.
Suddenly Alexander turned towards her: ‘Mother … people tell strange tales about you,’ he said.
‘What tales?’ Olympias asked without turning.
‘They say … they say that you take part in secret Dionysian worship and nocturnal orgies and that you have magic powers.’
‘And do you believe these things?’
‘I don’t know.’
Olympias did not reply and they carried on riding, their horses stepping in time, in silence.
‘I saw you last night,’ Alexander started again.
‘What did you see?’
‘I saw you summon an orgy with the sound of your flute and I saw you charm snakes from below ground.’
Olympias turned and sent him a lightning cold look, like the light in the eyes of the snake that had appeared in the clearing.
‘You gave manifest expression to my dreams there in the woods and you followed my spirit, which is a hollow simulacrum, like the shadows of the dead. This because you are part of me and you have received the gift of a divine force.’
‘It wasn’t a dream,’ protested Alexander. ‘I am certain of the things I saw.’
‘There are places and times in which dream and reality become confused, there are people who can cross the confines of reality and move into those areas inhabited by mystery. One day you will abandon me and I will have to leave my body and fly through the night to reach you, to see you, to hear your voice and your breath, to be near you when you need me, whenever that moment might be.’

 
Neither of them said another word until the sun was high in the sky and they had reached the road for Beroea. There they met Hephaestion and Alexander dismounted and ran towards his friend.
‘How did you manage to find us?’ he asked.
‘Your Bucephalas leaves tracks as obvious as a wild bull. It wasn’t difficult.’
‘Any news?’
‘I haven’t got much to tell you. I left shortly after you did. I think the King was so drunk he really couldn’t stand up. They must have washed him and put him to bed.’
‘Do you think he’ll send soldiers after us?’
‘Why?’
‘Because he wanted to kill me.’
‘He was drunk. I bet as soon as he wakes up he’ll say, “Where’s Alexander?”’
‘I’m not so sure. There were some ugly things said. It’s going to be difficult for both of us to forget it all. And, even supposing my father is willing to forget it all, there’s always going to be someone there to remind him.’
‘That’s certainly possible.’
‘Did you tell Eumenes to look after the dog?’
That was the first thing I did.’
‘Poor Peritas. He’ll miss me, he’ll think I’ve abandoned him.’
‘He won’t be the only one to miss you, Alexander. I for one couldn’t bear the idea of being away from you. That’s why I decided to come with you.’
They spurred on their horses to catch up with Olympias who had ridden on alone.
‘Hail, my Queen,’ said Hephaestion.
‘Hail, young man,’ replied Olympias. And they continued the journey together.
‘Where’s Alexander?’
Philip had just come out of the bath chamber and the women were massaging his shoulders and his back with a linen towel.
The field adjutant came closer: ‘He’s not here, Sire.’
‘I can see he’s not here. Go and call him.’
‘What I mean, Sire, is that he has gone.’
‘Gone? Gone where?’
‘No one knows, Sire.’
‘Agghh!’ cried Philip, dashing the towel to the floor and striding naked across the room. ‘I want him here immediately! I want his apologies for the things he said! He made a fool of me in front of my guests and my wife. Find him and bring him here immediately! I’ll pummel his face until it’s a bloody mess! I’ll kick the living daylights out of him! I’ll…’ His field adjutant stood there motionless and in silence. ‘Are you listening to me, by Zeus?’
‘I am listening, Sire, but Alexander left as soon as he came out of the dining hall and you were too … too much in difficulty to do anything about it…’
‘You’re trying to tell me I was too drunk to give orders, are you?’ Philip shouted into his face as he turned round to confront him.
‘The fact is, Sire, that you gave no orders and …’
‘Call the Queen! Immediately!’
‘Which one, Sire?’ the adjutant asked, increasingly at a loss as to what to do and say.
‘Which one? You stupid … what am I supposed to do with that little girl? Get me the Queen, immediately!’
‘Queen Olympias left with Alexander, Sire.’
The King’s roar was heard as far as the guard house at the other end of the courtyard. Shortly afterwards the field adjutant was seen rushing down the stairs giving orders left, right and centre. Everyone jumped on horseback and sped off at full tilt in all directions.
That day the foreign guests left with their official delegations

 
and Philip had to receive them one by one and thank them for the fine presents they had brought. This duty took up the whole morning and afternoon.
By the time evening came around he was sick, fed up and tired not
only because of the week of celebrations and the endless feasting but
also because for the first time in his life he felt as lonely as an abandoned dog.
He sent Eurydice to bed, went up onto the roof and for a long time walked back and forth across the great terrace in the moonlight. He presently became aware of an insistent barking coming from the west wing of the palace; it grew into a heart-wrenching howl that seemed to last for ever before dying into a plaintive whining.
Peritas too had realized that Alexander had gone and he was baying all his despair at the moon.

it took a week for the three fugitives to reach the borders of Epirus and they sent word of their arrival to King Alexander.
The young King already knew about events in Macedon because his informers were using a more rapid system of communications and they had no worries about being seen along the way between Pella and Epirus.
He went to meet them in person, and hugged his elder sister and his nephew lovingly before embracing Hephaestion whom he had come to know during the time he spent at court in Pella.
They slept that night in a hunting lodge and set off again the following morning with a full escort in the direction of the royal residence at Buthrotum, a couple of days’ journey away. This city was on the sea and was the focal point of all the myths regarding the small kingdom of Epirus. Legend had it that Pyrrhus, son of Achilles, had landed there, bringing with him as slaves Andromache, Hector’s widow, and Helenus, the Trojan seer. Pyrrhus had made Andromache his concubine, but later passed her to Helenus. Both of these unions had resulted in offspring who subsequently founded the royal dynasty that still dominated these lands.
On his mother’s side, therefore, Alexander of Macedon was a descendant of one of the greatest of Greek heroes and came from the stock of Priam, ruler of Asia. Such legends were sung by the poets who for several evenings entertained the King and his new guests. Indeed, for a few days Alexander and Olympias enjoyed some diversion and respite from their ordeal, but the King of Epirus knew that such peace could not last; he was well aware that they would soon be receiving visitors.

 
The first of them was announced one morning at dawn, while they were all still asleep. It was a horseman of Philip’s personal guard, covered in mud from head to toe because it had been raining in the mountains.
‘The King is furious,’ he said, without even accepting the warm bath he had been offered. ‘He expected Alexander to come before him the day after the wedding to apologize for his behaviour and for the harsh words he used in deriding him in front of his guests and his bride.’
‘My nephew informs me that the King threatened him with his sword drawn and that Attalus called him a bastard. Philip must understand that his son has his own blood in his veins, and consequently has the same pride, the same dignity and a very similar character.’
‘The King accepts no excuses and wants Alexander to come before him at Pella to beg his pardon.’
‘If I know him well he will not do it.’
‘In that case he will have to accept the consequences.’
Alexander was a light sleeper and had heard the noise of the hooves on the stone paving. He had got up, thrown a cloak around his shoulders and was listening now, out of sight, to what his father’s messenger was saying.
‘And what exactly will the consequences be?’ asked the young King.
‘His friends will all be sent into exile as traitors or conspirators, with the exception of Eumenes, Philip’s secretary, and Philotas, son of General Parmenion.’
‘I shall inform my nephew and I will let you know his answer.’
‘I shall await your return and then I will set off again immediately.’
‘But don’t you want to eat and wash? In this house we have always prided ourselves on making our guests most welcome.’
‘I cannot spare the time. The bad weather has already held me up,’ the Macedonian envoy explained.
The King left the audience chamber and found himself face to face with his nephew and namesake in the corridor. ‘Did you hear it all?’
Alexander nodded.
‘What will you do?’
‘I will not go crawling to him. Attalus offended me in public and my father should have intervened to preserve my dignity. Instead he came after me with his sword drawn.’
‘But the price your friends will pay is very high.’
‘I know and this pains me greatly. But I have no choice.’
‘Is this your last word?’
‘Yes.’
The King embraced him. ‘It’s exactly what I would have done in your position. I will tell the envoy.’
‘No … wait. I will do it myself.’
He pulled his cloak around himself tightly and, barefoot, entered the audience chamber. The messenger was slightly shocked at first, then he promptly bowed in deference.
‘May the gods keep you, Alexander.’
‘And you too, my good friend. Here is my reply for the King, my father. Tell him that Alexander cannot beg his pardon without first receiving an apology from Attalus and an assurance that Queen Olympias will no longer be subjected to such humiliation and that she will receive full respect, befitting her rank of Queen of Macedon.’
‘Is that it?’
‘That’s it.’
The envoy bowed and made his way to the door.
‘Tell him … tell him that…”
‘What, Sire?’
‘That Alexander says he must take good care of himself.’
‘I shall.’
Shortly afterwards there came the neighing of a horse and the noise of galloping which faded into the distance.
‘He didn’t want to rest or even eat,’ came the King’s voice from behind Alexander. ‘Philip must be very anxious to have your reply. Come, I have had breakfast brought for us.’
They went into a room in the royal apartments where two

 
tables had been prepared alongside two chairs with arms on them. There was fresh bread and slices of mackerel and sword-fish cooked on skewers.
‘I have put you in a difficult situation,’ Alexander said. ‘It was my father who put you on the throne.’
‘That’s true. But in the meantime I have grown up. I am not a boy any more. I’m the one who looks after his interests in this area and I can assure you it’s no easy matter. The Illyrians are often difficult, the coastline is infested with pirates and we’re receiving reports of other peoples descending from the north along the Ister. Your father needs me as well. And then I must safeguard the dignity of my sister Olympias.’
Alexander ate some fish and drank a drop of wine, a light sparkling wine from the Ionian islands. He went over to the window that overlooked the sea, continuing to chew on a piece of bread.
‘Where is Ithaca?’ he asked.
The King pointed towards the south. ‘Ulysses’ island is down there, about one day’s sail in a southerly direction. The island opposite us is Corcyra, the island of the Phaeacians where Ulysses was a guest in Alcinous’ palace.’
‘Have you ever seen it?’
‘Ithaca? No. But there’s nothing there to see. Just goats and pigs.’
‘Perhaps, but I would like to go there nonetheless. I’d land there towards evening, when the sea changes colour and the ways of land and sea are darkened, and feel what Ulysses felt in seeing it again after such a long time. I could … I’m certain I could relive the very same feelings.’
‘If you want I can have you taken there. It’s not far, as I said.’
Alexander seemed not to hear this and he turned his gaze towards the west, where the peaks of Corcyra were beginning to turn pink in the light of the rising sun as it came over the mountains of Epirus to the east.
‘Italy lies over those mountains and beyond that sea, doesn’t it?’
The King’s face seemed to light up all of a sudden. ‘Yes, Alexander, there’s Italy and there is Great Hellas. Cities founded by the Greeks, incredibly rich and powerful: Tarant, Locri, Croton, Thurii, Rhegium and many, many others. There are endless forests and herds of livestock of thousands and thousands of head. Fields of grain for as far as the eye can see. And mountains covered with snow all year round which suddenly erupt fire and flames and make the earth shake.
‘And beyond Italy lies Sicily, the most fertile and beautiful land known. There stand Syracuse and Agrigentum, Gela and Selinous. And even further on is Sardinia and then Spain, the richest country in the world with its inexhaustible silver and iron and tin mines.’
‘I had a dream last night,’ said Alexander.
‘What did you dream?’ asked the King.
‘We were together, you and I, on horseback, at the top of Mount Imarus, the highest in your realm. I was astride Bucephalas and you were on Keraunos, your battle charger, and we were both in the midst of a field of shining light because just then there was one sun setting over the sea to the west while another one rose way over to the east. Two suns … can you imagine that? A truly moving spectacle.
‘Then we said goodbye to each another because you decided to go to where the sun was setting while I opted for the place where the sun was rising. Isn’t that something? Alexander of the rising sun and Alexander of the setting sun! And before parting, before each of us spurred on his horse towards his own fiery globe, we made a solemn promise: that we would never meet again before completing our journeys and the place we chose for our meeting was …’
‘Was where?’ insisted the King. ‘Where is the place we agreed on for our reunion?’