Callisthenes was holding a tablet on which he had listed the names of all those who up until that moment could be suspected of having ordered the King’s assassination.
Aristotle spoke again: ‘What do you know of the assassin? Who did he spend time with in the period immediately before he killed the King?’
‘There’s a nasty twist to the story there, Uncle,’ Callisthenes said. ‘Attalus, Eurydice’s father, is involved in it. In fact let’s say he’s in it right up to his neck’
‘And Attalus has been killed.’
‘Exactly.’
‘And Eurydice is dead too.’
‘Indeed, Alexander had a fine tomb built for her.’
‘What’s more,’ said Aristotle, ‘he argued violently with his mother, Olympias, because she attacked Eurydice and because she was probably responsible for the death of the child.’
‘This clears Alexander.’
‘But at the same time these deaths have favoured him in the succession.’
‘Do you suspect him?’ Callisthenes asked.
‘On the basis of what I know of him, no. But sometimes knowing about or suspecting a criminal event without doing anything to prevent it can be a form of guilt.
‘The real problem is that so many people had motives for assassinating Philip. We must continue to gather information. In this way we might reach the truth through the simple weight of evidence that accumulates against one or other of the suspects. Continue your enquiries on Attalus’ involvement and then let me know. But let Alexander know as well he’s
the one who commissioned the job.’
‘Shall I tell him everything?’
‘Everything. And make sure you don’t miss any of his reactions.’
‘Can I tell him that you’re helping me?’
‘Of course,’ replied the philosopher. ‘In the first place because he’ll be pleased to hear it. And in the second place because he already knows.’
42
general Parmenion came back to Pella together with his son Philotas towards the end of autumn, after having made sure that the Asia expeditionary force would be able to winter without any serious problems.
Antipater received him because at that moment it was he who held the royal seal and was acting as official regent.
‘I was most sorry not to be able to attend the King’s funeral,’ said Parmenion. ‘And I must also say that Attalus’ death brought me considerable grief, but I cannot say I didn’t expect it.’
‘In any case, Alexander demonstrated his complete trust by sending Philotas to you. He wanted you to be free to take whatever decision you felt you had to.’
‘That is exactly why I have returned. But I confess I am surprised to see you with the royal seal on your finger the
Queen Mother has never loved you and I hear she still exerts considerable influence over Alexander.’
‘That is true, but the King knows his own mind, he is his own man. Right now what he wants is that his mother should keep out of politics. Completely.’
‘And what about the politics?’
‘What do you think? In three months he has managed to reestablish the Thessalian League, frighten the Thebans, reinforce the pan-Hellenic League and recoup General Parmenion, the key to the East. Not bad at all, for a boy, as Demosthenes would have it.’
‘You’re right, but the north is still a problem. The Triballians are now allied with the Getae, who live along the lower reaches of the Ister, and together they have been carrying out raids on our territory almost continually. Many of the cities founded by King Philip have been lost.’
‘I believe this is exactly why Alexander has called you back to Pella. He intends to march north in midwinter to catch the enemy off guard, and you will be asked to lead the front-line infantry. He will put his friends at your disposal as battalion commanders he
wants them to learn from a good teacher.’
‘And where is he now?’
‘The latest news is that he is crossing through Thessaly. But before that he went to Delphi.’
Parmenion’s face darkened. ‘Has he consulted the oracle?’
‘In a way, yes.’
‘What do you mean by that?’
‘The priests probably wanted to avoid another incident like Philip’s visit, so they told Alexander that the Pythia was not well and that she couldn’t answer his questions. But Alexander simply dragged her bodily to the tripod with the intention of obliging her to give him a prophecy.’ Parmenion’s face and eyes were a picture of incredulity as he listened. ‘By that stage the Pythia was out of her mind with rage and started shouting wildly, “But there is absolutely nothing that can hold you back, my boy!” Alexander stopped then, struck by these words, and simply said, “That’ll do fine as a response.” And then he left.’
Parmenion shook his head. ‘That’s a good one … a line worthy of a great actor.’
‘And that’s exactly what Alexander is. Or rather, he’s a great actor among other things. You’ll see.’
‘Do you think he believes in the oracles?’
Antipater rubbed his hand through his bristly beard. ‘Yes and no. The rationality of Philip and Aristotle live in Alexander, together with the mysterious, instinctive and barbaric nature of his mother. But he saw his father fall like a sacrificial bull before the altar, and at that moment the words of the prophecy must have exploded like a thunderclap in his mind. He won’t forget them for as long as he lives.’
Evening was falling and the two old soldiers found themselves in the grip of a sudden, deep melancholy. They felt that their time had reached its twilight with the death of King Philip, as if their days had been consumed in the vortex of flames around the pyre of the assassinated King.
‘Perhaps if we had been at his side …’ Parmenion suddenly murmured.
‘Don’t say another word, my friend. No one can alter fate’s design. Our only thoughts must be that our King had prepared Alexander to be his successor. All that remains of our days belongs to him.’
The King returned to Pella leading his troops and he paraded through the city in the midst of two lines of joyous onlookers. It was the first time in living memory that an army had returned victorious from a campaign without having been involved in combat, without having suffered any losses. This handsome young man his
face, his clothes, his armour all resplendent -was for everyone the virtual incarnation of a young god, an epic hero. And in his companions as they rode alongside him the people saw the same light reflected; their eyes seemed to bum with the same intense and febrile gaze.
Antipater went to meet him and return the seal and tell him that Parmenion had returned.
‘Take me to him right away,’ ordered Alexander.
The General mounted his horse and led the way to an isolated villa just outside the city.
Parmenion came down the stairs with his heart in his mouth as soon as the King’s arrival was announced and it was explained that he hadn’t even been to the palace yet after his journey. When Parmenion came out of the door he found Alexander there before him.
‘Soldier! My old Soldier!’ Alexander greeted and embraced him. ‘Thank you for coming home.’
‘Sire,’ replied Parmenion with a lump in his throat, ‘your father’s death was a terrible blow. I would have given my life to save him, had it been possible. I would have shielded him with my body … I would have …’ but he couldn’t continue because his voice had started cracking.
‘I know,’ nodded Alexander. Then he put his hands on Parmenion’s shoulders and looked straight into his eyes. ‘I would have done the same thing, had it been possible.’
Parmenion looked down.
‘It was like a lightning bolt, General, organized by a genius, a ruthless genius. There was a lot of fuss and noise just at that moment and I was ahead of him together with King Alexander of Epirus. Eumenes shouted something to us, but I didn’t understand, I couldn’t hear, and when I realized something was happening and I turned round, he was already falling to his knees, falling into his own blood.’
“I know, Sire. But let’s not speak of such sad things. Tomorrow I will go to Aegae, I will make a sacrificial offering on his tomb and I hope he will hear me. Why have you come to see me now?’
“I wanted to greet you and to invite you to supper. Everyone will be there and I intend to illustrate my plans for the winter. This will be our last enterprise in Europe, after which we will march towards the East, towards the rising sun.’
He leaped onto his horse and went off at a gallop. Parmenion went back into the villa and called for his manservant: ‘Prepare my bath and my best clothes,’ he ordered. ‘This evening I am to dine with the King.’
43
in the days following these events, Alexander joined in military training and took part in several hunts, but he also had occasion to realize just how much his authority was now recognized even in remote countries. He received delegations not only from the Greeks in Asia, but from Sicily and Italy as well.
A group of cities on the Tyrrhenian Sea, for example, brought him a golden bowl as a gift and petitioned for his help.
Alexander was much flattered and asked them where they came from.
‘From Neapolis, Medma and Poseidonia,’ they explained in an accent that he hadn’t heard before, but which reminded him somewhat of the way people spoke on the island of Euboea.
‘And what can I do for you?’
‘King Alexander,’ replied the eldest representative, ‘there is a powerful city to the north of us and it goes by the name of Rome.’
‘I have heard of it,’ replied Alexander. ‘They tell me it was founded by Aeneas, the Trojan hero.’
‘Indeed, but in the Romans’ territory, on the coast, there is a city peopled by pirates who are causing terrible disruption to our sea traffic. We want to put an end to this situation and we would like you to intervene. Your fame has spread everywhere and we believe that your opinion would carry substantial influence in the matter.’
‘I will do it gladly. And I hope they will take heed. Make sure you let me know the result of this initiative.’
Then he nodded to his scribe and started dictating.
Alexander, King of Macedon, pan-Hellenic leader, to the people and the city of Rome, Hail!
Our brothers of the cities of the Tyrrhenian Gulf tell me they are suffering grievous harm at the hands of some of your subjects who engage in piracy.
I would therefore ask you to resolve this as soon as possible or, if you are not able to resolve it yourselves, to let others deal with it.
He pressed his seal on the letter and gave it to his guests who thanked him profusely and left satisfied with their mission.
‘I wonder what effect this letter will have?’ Alexander asked of Eumenes who was sitting near him. ‘And what will these Romans think of such a distant King who interferes in their internal affairs?’
‘Not so very distant,’ said Eumenes. ‘You’ll see that they will
reply.’
Other emissaries and other news, much worse, came from the northern border: the alliance between the Triballians and the Getae had been consolidated and was now jeopardizing all of Philip’s conquests in Thrace. The Getae were especially formidable because they believed themselves to be immortal and fought wildly and furiously and with utter disdain for personal danger. Many of the colonies founded by Alexander’s father had been attacked and plundered, the populations massacred or enslaved. At that particular moment, however, the situation seemed calm and the northern warriors had all gone back into their villages to get ready for the harsh winter cold.
Despite the unfavourable season, Alexander decided to bring forward their departure and to put his plan into action. He sent word to the Byzantine fleet to proceed up the Ister for five days’ sail, until they reached the confluence with the River Peukes. In the meantime he mobilized all of his army’s units in Pella, put Parmenion in charge of the infantry, and personally took command of the cavalry before setting off.
They crossed Mount Rhodope, went down into the Vale of
Europos and then started out on a forced march towards the Haemon passes which were still covered with a thick blanket of snow. As they advanced they saw ruined cities, devastated fields, bodies hanging on poles, others tied up and burned; the wrath of the Macedonian King grew like the implacable fury of a river in flood.
In a completely unexpected manoeuvre, Alexander descended with his cavalry onto the Getaen plain, burning villages and camps, destroying harvests, massacring livestock.
The people, terror stricken, retreated in panic towards the Ister and sought refuge on an island in the middle of the river, where they thought Alexander could never reach them. But the Byzantine fleet arrived, and ferried the assault troops, the shieldsmen and the Vanguard cavalry.
The battle on the island was a fierce one. The Getae and the Triballians fought desperately and with superhuman energy because they were defending not only their last scrap of land, but also their wives and children. Alexander in person, however, led the attack on their positions, in the teeth of the icy wind and the rough waves of the Ister which was swollen by torrential rain. The smoke from the fires mingled with the sheets of rain and sleet, while the shouts of the soldiers, the cries of the wounded, and the neighing of horses melded with the crash of thunderclaps and the whistle of the northern wind.
Those under attack had formed a tight circle by uniting their shields and planting the shafts of their spears in the ground to create a barrier of spikes against the cavalry charges. Behind this were the archers who let off clouds of deadly arrows on command. But Alexander himself was possessed of an awesome strength.
Parmenion, who had seen him fight at Chaeronaea three years previously, was shocked as he watched him fight hand-to-hand, oblivious to everything, as if gripped by an uncontrollable fury. The King was animated by an inexhaustible energy -shouting, mowing down the enemy with sword and axe, pushing Bucephalas, with his bronze armour, against the opponents’ lines to open a breach through which he could lead the heavy cavalry and the assault infantry.
