Alexander: Child of a Dream (28 page)

35
The messenger arrived in the middle of the night at a gallop, leaped to the ground in front of the guard house and gave his sweaty mount, its flanks lathered, to one of the squires.

 

Eumenes, who always slept lightly, immediately got up, threw a cloak around his shoulders, took a lamp and went down he stairs to go and meet him.

 

‘Come,’ he ordered as soon as he saw him enter under the portico, and he led him towards the armoury. ‘Where is the King now?’ he asked as the man followed him, still breathless.

 

‘He is a day’s march away, no more. You know why I lost time on my journey.’

 

‘All right, all right,’ Eumenes cut him short as he unlocked a small iron-clad door. ‘Come in here, we won’t be disturbed.’

 

It was a large, bare room, a storehouse for weapons that were due for repair. Along one side were two or three stools arranged around a stump that was used as an anvil. Eumenes landed one to his companion and sat down in his turn.

 

‘What have you found out?’

 

‘It wasn’t easy and it cost me a lot. I had to bribe two of the ministrants who have access to the adyton.’

 

‘Well?’

 

‘King Philip’s arrival took them by surprise, he almost succeeded in hiding himself, queuing up with the other postulants until someone recognized him and then he was taken directly to the sanctuary. When the priests realized that he wanted to question the oracle, they tried to have the question first so as to prepare a suitable answer.’

 

 
‘That’s normal practice.’
‘Indeed. But the King refused: he asked to consult the Pythia directly and wanted them to lead him to the adyton.’
Eumenes covered his face with his hands. ‘Oh! Great Zeus!’
‘The priest who was officiating that day didn’t even have the time to inform the council. He had no choice but to agree to his request. Therefore Philip was accompanied to the adyton and he put his question to the Pythia once she had entered her ecstatic state.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Absolutely sure.’
‘And what was her response?’
‘Wreathed is the bull. All is done. Ready is the one who will smite him.’
‘Nothing else?’ asked Eumenes, his face darkening.
The man shook his head.
Eumenes took a purse full of money from his cloak and handed it to his informer. ‘It’s what I’d promised, but I am sure you must have kept the change after paying off the ministrant.’
‘But I …’
‘Forget it, I know how these things work. Just remember that if you breathe as much as one word about this, even if you find yourself only tempted to speak about it with someone, have no fear that I will find you wherever you are and I will make you regret ever having been born.’
The man picked up the money, swearing and promising that he would never speak about it to anyone, and he left.
Eumenes was alone in the big, empty, cold room, in the lamplight, and he thought for a long time on an interpretation of the oracle’s response that might be a good omen for his King. Then he too left the room and returned to his bed chamber, but he didn’t manage to get back to sleep.
Philip reached the palace the following day, late in the afternoon. Eumenes used the excuse of some documents to be signed to make sure he was there to meet him.
‘May I ask you about the outcome of your mission, Sire?’ he asked as he was passing the sheets to him one by one.
Philip lifted his head and turned towards him. ‘I’d bet ten silver talents against a pile of dogshit that you know already.’
The, Sire? Oh, no, I’m not as clever as all that. No, these are delicate matters, there’s nothing to joke about here.’
Philip stretched out his left hand for another document and pressed the seal onto it.
‘Wreathed is the bull. All is done. Ready is the one who will smite him.’
‘Was that the response, Sire? But that’s extraordinary, it’s magnificent! Just now when you’re planning to move into Asia! The new emperor of the Persians has just been crowned and what is the symbol of Persepolis, the capital? The bull, the winged bull. There is no doubt, he’s the bull. So his end is nigh because the one who will smite it, the one who will sacrifice the bull, is ready. And you are the one who will smite it. The oracle has seen your imminent victory over the Persian empire.
‘In fact, Sire, shall I tell you what I think? It’s too good to be true. I’m afraid the priests, tricksters as they are, must have concocted a tailor-made reply for you. But it is still a good omen, don’t you think?’
‘They didn’t concoct anything. I arrived there suddenly, I took a ministrant of the cult by the collar, I made him open the adyton and I saw the Pythia, out of her mind, her eyes white, her mouth foaming as she inhaled the vapours from the chasma.’
Eumenes nodded repeatedly. ‘Certainly … a lightning manoeuvre, worthy of your own self. Anyway, better still if the reply was a genuine one.’
‘Exactly.’
‘Alexander will arrive in a couple of days’ time.’
‘Good.’

 
‘Will you go to meet him at the old border?’
‘No. I will wait for him here.’
‘May I go with Callisthenes?’
‘Yes, of course.’
‘Perhaps I could also take Philotas with a dozen guardsmen. Just a small escort of honour…’
Philip agreed.
‘Good, Sire. Well, if there’s nothing else, I’ll be off,’ said Eumenes as he gathered his documents and started to leave.
‘Do you know what my soldiers used to call me when I was young, when I used to go through two women in one night?’
Eumenes turned to look at the King’s wounded gaze.
They used to call me “the Bull”.’
Eumenes was lost for words. He reached the door and went out, bowing hurriedly.
The small welcoming party reached the Beroea road where they crossed the old frontier of the realm of Amyntas I. Near the Haliakmon ford Eumenes signalled to the others to stop because Alexander and his troop had no choice but to cross the river there.
They all dismounted and left their horses free to graze on the grass. Some members of the escort pulled out their water flasks to quench their thirst, others, given the time of day, took bread, cheese, olives and dried figs from their satchels and sat on the ground to eat. One of the men was sent up a nearby hill to look out for Alexander.
They spent several hours there and the sun began to descend towards the horizon, over towards the Pindus mountains, and still there was no sign of anything happening.
‘It’s a terrible road, believe me,’ Callisthenes was saying. ‘It’s teeming with brigands. I wouldn’t be surprised if…’
‘Oh, the brigands!’ exclaimed Philotas. ‘But that lot eat brigands for breakfast. They’ve survived a winter up in the mountains of Illyria, do you know what that means?’
But Eumenes was looking up at the hill and at the lookout who had started waving a red cloth.
‘They’re on their way,’ he announced, almost in a whisper.
Shortly after, the lookout fired an arrow that landed in the ground not far from them.
‘That means they’re all present,’ said the secretary. ‘Not one of them is missing.’ And he said this as though he didn’t really believe what he was saying. The lookout in the meantime had come back down.
‘Men! On your mounts!’ Philotas ordered, and all twelve of the horsemen leaped onto their chargers and arranged themselves along the road, spears in hand.
Eumenes and Callisthenes, without their horses, set off walking along the road just as Alexander and his troop appeared from a declivity of the hill.
All eight advanced side by side and the rays of the sun as it set behind them wrapped them in a halo of purple light, a gilded cloud. The distance and the drumming of their gallop in the light-filled dust created a strange optical effect, as though they were riding suspended in the air, as if they came from another time, from a magic, far-off place, from the ends of the earth.
They reached the riverbank at full tilt and threw themselves at top speed into the ford, as though unable to bear being separated from their homeland for one instant more. The horses’ hooves, in the wild churning of the water, lifted up an iridescent spray coloured by the dying rays of the great setting globe.
Eumenes wiped the arm of his tunic across his eyes and blew his nose noisily. His voice trembled. ‘Oh gods above … it is them … it is them.’
Then a figure with long golden hair, shining in its glowing copper armour, leaped from the water in a boiling of spray and spume, leaving the group behind and plunging into a breakneck gallop astride a stallion whose hooves made the earth tremble.

 
Philotas shouted, ‘Guard … attention!’ And the twelve warriors lined up one next to the other, their heads held high, their backs straight, the points of their spears directed skyward.
Eumenes could not contain his emotion.
‘Alexander …’ he stammered through his tears. ‘Alexander is back.’

36

eumenes and callisthenes accompanied Alexander all the way to the threshold of the King’s study. Eumenes knocked, and when he heard Philip’s voice inviting his son to enter, he put a hand on his friend’s shoulder and said, somewhat embarrassedly, ‘If your father should make mention of the letter you wrote to me, don’t show any surprise. I took the liberty of making the first move in your name, otherwise you would still be up a mountain in a snowdrift.’
Alexander looked at him in amazement, finally realizing what had happened, but at that point all he could do was enter Philip’s study and enter he did.
He found his father there before him and he saw that he had aged a great deal. Although his exile had lasted a little less than a year, it seemed to him that the furrows across Philip’s forehead were deeper and his hair was turning white prematurely.
He spoke first: “I am glad to find you in good health, Father.’
‘And you,’ replied Philip. ‘You look more substantial and I am happy you have returned. Are your friends well?’
‘Yes, they are all well.’
‘Sit down.’
Alexander obeyed. The King picked up a jug and two cups: ‘Some wine?’
‘Yes, thank you.’
Philip moved nearer and Alexander found himself face to face with his father; now he saw his dead eye and now there was no doubt about the fatigue sculpted over his forehead.
‘To your health, Father, and to the enterprise you are

 
embarking on in Asia. I have heard about the great prophecy of the god at Delphi.’
Philip nodded and took some wine.
‘How is your mother?’
‘She was well, last time I saw her.’
‘Will she come to Cleopatra’s wedding?’
‘I hope so.’
The too.’
They stood in silence staring at one another and both of them felt a strong desire to abandon themselves to their feelings, but they were also two men hardened by much pain and resentment, by a moment of rage that had passed now but which was still terribly alive. Father and son were aware that at that precise moment they could easily have fallen to blows to the point of spilling each other’s blood.
‘Go and say hello to Cleopatra,’ Philip said suddenly, breaking the silence. ‘She has missed you very much.’
Alexander nodded and left the room.
Eumenes and Callisthenes were positioned at the end of the corridor, waiting for an explosion of either violence or joy the unreal silence left them puzzled.
‘What do you think?’ asked Callisthenes.
‘The King said to me, “No feasts, no banquets. There is’ nothing to celebrate. We are both crippled by grief.” That’s what he said to me.’
Alexander walked through the palace as though he were in a dream. As he went by everybody smiled and nodded, but no one dared approach him or speak to him.
Suddenly a loud barking came from the great courtyard and Peritas came rushing into the internal portico like a fury unleashed. He leaped up on Alexander, almost dashing him to I the ground, and continued barking and making a general fuss.
The young Prince was moved by the animal’s demonstration of its affection for him so
open and enthusiastic in
front of everyone. He petted him for a long time, scratching his ears and trying to calm him. Argus, Ulysses’ dog, came to mind, the only one who recognized the hero on his return after many years away, and Alexander felt his eyes moisten
His sister threw her arms around him crying in full flood as soon as she saw him in the doorway of her room.
‘My child.’ Alexander murmured as he held her to him
‘I’ve cried so much I’ve cried so much.’ the girl
sobbed
‘That’s enough I’m back now and I’m even hungry I was rather hoping you might invite me to stay for supper.’
‘Of course!’ exclaimed Cleopatra, drying her tears and sniffing. ‘Come in!’
She had him sit down and gave orders for the tables to be laid immediately and for a basin to be brought so that her brother might wash his hands, his arms and his feet.
‘Will Mother come to my wedding?’ she asked when they were reclining to eat
‘I hope so. Her daughter and her brother are getting married to each other, she
should be there And then perhaps Father would be pleased if she came.’
Cleopatra seemed encouraged by this and they talked about all they had been through in the year during which they had been separated from each other. The Princess shivered every time her brother told her about a particularly exciting adventure or about dangerous chases through the rocky gorges of the Illynan mountains
Now and then Alexander would interrupt his stones to ask her about herself and how she was planning to dress for the wedding and what her life would be like in the palace at Buthrotum. Or he would sit quietly and look at her, with his light smile and that curious way he had of leaning his head towards his right shoulder. ‘Poor Perdiccas,’ he said at a certain point, as though suddenly plunged into serious thought. ‘He’s hopelessly in love with you and when he heard about your wedding he fell into despair ‘
‘I am sorry He’s a fine young man ‘
‘More than fine. One day he will be one of the best

 
Macedonian generals, if I know anything about my men. But there’s nothing to be done about it all everyone
has his or her own destiny written.’
‘Quite,’ said Cleopatra as she nodded.
A sudden silence came over the two young people who had been laughing together after their long separation. Each one sat listening to the voice of his or her own feelings.
‘I am sure you will be happy with your husband,’ Alexander began again. ‘He’s intelligent and young and brave and can dream. For him you will be like a dew-kissed flower, like the smile of spring, like a pearl mounted in gold.’
Cleopatra looked at him, her eyes moist with tears. ‘Is that how you see me, brother of mine?’
‘That’s it. And I’m sure that’s how he must see you too, I’m certain.’ He brushed her cheek with a kiss and left.
It was late now as he returned to his room for the first time in a year: he smelled the fragrance of the flowers that adorned it and the perfume of his bath.
The lamps spread a warm, collected light. His strigil, his comb and his razor were all lined up in order alongside the bathtub and Leptine was sitting on a stool dressed only in a short chiton.
She ran to him as soon as he entered and threw herself at his feet, hugging his knees, covering them with kisses and tears.
‘Don’t you want to help me have my bath?’ Alexander asked her.
‘Yes … yes of course, Sire. Straight away.’
She undressed him and waited while he got into the big tub, then she began rubbing him gently with the sponge. She washed his straight, soft hair, dried it and over his head poured a precious oil that had been brought all the way from distant Arabia.
When he came out of the water she covered him with a towel and had him lie down on his bed. Then she too undressed and massaged him for a long time to loosen his limbs, but she didn’t use perfume because there was nothing more beautiful and pleasant than the natural scent of his skin. When she saw that he had let himself go and his eyes were beginning to close, she lay down alongside him, naked and warm, and began kissing him all over.