The assembly discussed the situation for some time and the various heads of the opposing political factions were given the time necessary to persuade their own supporters.
Two well-known philosophers were also present Speusippus,
who had become director of the Academy on Plato’s death, and Demophanes.
‘Do you know what I think?’ said Speusippus to his friend with a sardonic smile. ‘I think that when Plato and the Athenians denied Aristotle the directorship of the Academy, he, out of a sense of revenge, went ahead and created Alexander.’
The assembly voted against the proposal to hand over Demosthenes and his supporters to the Macedonians. They also decided, however, to send a delegation made up of those men who would have the greatest chance of being listened to, and Demades was chosen to lead it.
Alexander met him on the road to Corinth, where he intended to summon once again the representatives of the pan-Hellenic League to have himself reconfirmed, after the events at Thebes, as supreme commander in the war against the Persians.
He was sitting in his tent and Eumenes was at his side.
‘How is your wound, Demades?’ was the first thing he asked, leaving all the onlookers stunned.
The orator lifted up his cloak and showed the scar. ‘It has healed perfectly, Alexander. A true surgeon couldn’t have done any better.’
‘It’s all credit to my teacher, Aristotle, a man who was once your fellow citizen. In fact, don’t you think it’s about time you dedicated a statue to him in your market place? Athens doesn’t have one, does it? A public statue of Aristotle?’
The delegates looked at one another, even more stupefied now.
‘No. We haven’t taken care of that yet,’ admitted Demades.
‘Think about it. And one more thing I
want Demosthenes, Lycurgus and all those who led the revolt handed over to me.’
Demades lowered his head. ‘Sire, we expected this request and we understand your state of mind. You well know that I personally have lobbied for peace, even though I have always done my duty and have fought just like any other citizen whenever the city has asked us to. Nevertheless, I am convinced that Demosthenes and the others acted in good faith, like true patriots.’
‘Patriots?’ shouted Alexander.
‘Yes, King Alexander, patriots,’ repeated Demades with conviction.
‘In that case why do they not hand themselves over? Why don’t they accept responsibility for their actions?’
‘Because the city voted against it and the city is ready to face any danger and any challenge. Listen, Alexander, Athens is ready to accept reasonable requests, but don’t push us to desperate measures because even if you should win, your victory will be much more bitter than any defeat.
‘Thebes is gone and Sparta will never ally with you. If you destroy Athens or you make the city your enemy for all time, what will be left of Greece then? Clemency, very often, goes much further than force or arrogance ever will.’
Alexander did not reply but stood up and paced back and forth in his tent. Then he sat down once again and asked, ‘What do you want?’
‘No Athenian citizen will be handed over and there will be no retaliation against the city. We also ask to be allowed to grant asylum and aid to the Theban refugees. In exchange we will renew our membership of the pan-Hellenic League and the common pact of peace. If you move into Asia you will need our fleet to cover your back yours
is too small and too inexperienced to manage unaided.’
Eumenes moved closer to Alexander and whispered in his ear, ‘They all seem like reasonable proposals to me.’
‘In that case draw up a document and sign it,’ ordered Alexander as he stood up. He slipped the seal ring off his finger and put it in Eumenes’ hand before leaving.
45
Aristotle closed his satchel, took his cloak from the wall where it was hanging and unhooked the door key from a nail. He took one last look around the room and said to himself, ‘I don’t think I’ve forgotten anything.’
‘So you really are leaving then?’ asked Callisthenes.
‘Yes. I have decided to return to Athens since the situation there seems to have quietened down.’
‘Do you know where you’ll be staying?’
‘Demades has taken care of all that and he’s found me quite a big building near Lycabettus with a covered portico, similar to Mieza, where I can set up a school. There is enough space to house a library and the natural science collections and there will be a section dedicated to musical research. I have already had all the materials carried to the port and all that’s left to do is for me to set sail.’
‘And so you’re leaving me to deal with the investigation on my own.’
‘Quite the opposite. In Athens I’ll be able to garner much more information than in Macedonia. I’ve already learned all there is to be learned here.’
‘Which is?’
‘Sit down,’ said Aristotle as he took some sheets full of notes from a drawer. ‘The only sure thing, up to now, is that Philip’s death caused such upset that it raised a cloud of whisperings, rumours, calumnies, insinuations, just like an enormous stone falling to the muddy bed of a clear pond. One has to wait for he mud to settle before being able to see clearly through the water again.
‘Pausanias’ actions originated and
this was foreseeable in
some murky affair of male love, the most dangerous of all loves. To make a long story short, Pausanias a
fine young man, skilful with his weapons manages
to join up with Philip’s bodyguards. The King notices him and takes him as his lover. In the meantime Attalus puts his daughter, poor Eurydice, into the King’s bed and Philip finds her irresistible.
‘Pausanias is driven wild by jealousy and, during a meeting with Attalus, actually has a screaming fit, but the General shrugs off this insubordination and indeed seems to take it all in his stride. As a sign of good faith he invites Pausanias to dine with him after a hunting expedition in the mountains.
‘The place is very isolated. The wine flows freely and everyone is merry and excited. At a certain point Attalus disappears and leaves Pausanias in the hands of his huntsmen, who strip him naked and rape him repeatedly throughout the night in all the ways they can possibly imagine. Then they abandon him, more dead than alive.
‘This outrage drives Pausanias out of his mind and he asks Philip to avenge it, but the King certainly cannot consider any action against his future father-in-law, a man he anyway greatly respects. Pausanias would like to kill Attalus himself, but this is no longer possible because Philip has put him in command, together with Parmenion, of the Asian expeditionary force. Pausanias therefore turns his rage against the only target left to him Philip.
And he kills him.’
Aristotle let his left hand fall on the sheaf of papyrus with a thump, to drive home his conclusion.
Callisthenes stared into the philosopher’s little grey eyes, which shone with an undefinable expression some way between the knowing and the ironic.
‘I can’t make up my mind if you believe all of this or if you’re just pretending to believe it.’
‘One must never underestimate the impetus of the passions,
which are always a strong motivating factor in human behaviour, especially the behaviour of an individual who is lacking in mental equilibrium as an assassin inevitably is. Furthermore, the complexity of the tale is such that it might even be true.’
‘It might be …”
‘Indeed. But there are many things that don’t make sense. Firstly, there has been much talk about Philip’s affairs with men, but no one has ever recounted anything definite beyond occasional episodes … not even this time. And in any case can you imagine that a man in Philip’s position would be so stupid as to take on a hysterical madman as his bodyguard?
‘Secondly, if things really did happen this way, why did Pausanias wait so long before carrying out his act of revenge and why did he do it in such a reckless manner? Thirdly, who is the key witness to all of this? Attalus, of course, but Attalus is conveniently dead. Murdered.’
‘So?’
‘So the most likely thing is that the person who commissioned the assassination actually invented a complex, but basically plausible story which puts the blame on a person who, being dead, can neither prove nor deny his innocence.’
‘As clear as mud, basically.’
‘Perhaps. But there is something that’s beginning to take shape.’
‘What?’
‘The personality of the man or woman behind it all, and the type of circle out of which these events arose. I have a copy of my notes here in my bag, so you must keep hold of these, Callisthenes, and make good use of them. I will continue the investigation from another vantage point.’
‘The fact is,’ his nephew replied, ‘that I may find myself with no time left to continue my enquiries. Alexander is now completely taken with the Asian expedition and he has asked me to follow him. I am to write the history of this enterprise.’
Aristotle nodded and half-closed his eyes. ‘This means that Alexander has taken the past and its burden of significance and has put it behind him. He is rushing towards the future now, which is to say, in essence, that he is rushing towards the unknown.’
He picked up his bag, threw his cloak over his shoulders and went out onto the road. The sun was just rising over the horizon and far off in the distance it was beginning to give shape to the bare peaks of Mount Kissos, beyond which lay the vast Plain of Macedon with its capital and the secluded retreat at Mieza.
‘It’s strange,’ he remarked as he walked to the small carriage that was waiting to take him to the port, ‘there simply hasn’t been the time for Alexander and me to meet again.’
‘But you are always in his thoughts and perhaps one day, before he leaves, he will come to visit you.’
‘I doubt it,’ said the philosopher as if thinking to himself. ‘He is drawn by his longing for adventure like a moth to the flame of a lamp. When he truly feels he wants to see me, it will be too late for him to turn back. In any case, I will send you my address in Athens, so that you may write to me whenever you like. I am sure Alexander will do everything in his power to maintain a line of communication with the city. Farewell, Callisthenes, take good care of yourself.’
Callisthenes hugged his uncle. As Aristotle moved away, just before he climbed onto the carriage, Callisthenes thought he saw, for the first time ever, a spark of sentiment in those little grey eyes.
46
the ancient sanctuary was just visible in the evening darkness, there at the edge of the wood. It was illuminated from below by lamps and torches, and the painted wood of its columns displayed all the ravages of time and the elements to which it had been exposed for centuries.
The coloured terracotta decorations of the architrave and the tympanum depicted the deeds of the god Dionysus, and the flickering reflections of the torch-and
lamplight seemed to lend them movement, almost as though calling them to life.
The door was open and inside within
the cella and through the half-light the
figure of the statue of the god could be made out, solemn in its age-old immobility. Two seats had been prepared at its feet and another eight were arranged, four on each side, along the lateral colonnades that supported the ceiling joists.
Ptolemy arrived first, then Craterus and Leonnatus together. Lysimachus, Seleucus and Perdiccas, still not completely recovered, came not long afterwards and shortly behind them Eumenes and Philotas, who had also been invited to the meeting. Alexander, astride Bucephalas, arrived last of all together with Hephaestion.
Only then did they all enter and take up position along the colonnades of the deserted and silent temple.
Alexander sat down, had Hephaestion join him to his right and then signalled to the others to do the same, all of them excited and impatient to know what the purpose of this nighttime meeting might be.
‘The moment has come,’ the King began, ‘to set out on the enterprise my father long dreamed of, but which was denied him by a sudden, violent death the
invasion of Asia!’
A gust of wind blew through the main door and the flames of the lamps burning beneath the statue of the god flickered wildly, animating Dionysus’s enigmatic smile.
‘Our meeting place here tonight is not by any means coincidental. Dionysus the
god who travelled with his cortege of satyrs and sileni, bearing crowns of vine-leaves will
show us the way to distant India where no Greek army has ever been.
‘The conflict between Asia and Greece is an age-old one that has neither winners nor losers. The Trojan War lasted ten years and ended with the sack and the destruction of just one city, and the most recent invasions attempts
made first by the Athenians and then by the Spartans to free the Greeks of Asia from Persian domination failed,
just as the Persian attempts at invading Greece failed in their turn. But all of these events involved no shortage of massacres, fires and raids which did not even spare the temples of the gods.
‘Times have changed now. We are the most powerful army that has ever existed and we are the strongest, best-trained soldiers, but above all else,’ he said as he looked into their faces one by one, ‘we, those of us sitting here tonight, are united by the common bond of deep and sincere friendship. We grew up together in the palace at Pella, we played together as children, we went to the same school, together we learned how to face our first trials and our first dangers.’
‘We all had a taste of the same cane!’ added Ptolemy, provoking laughter all round.
