Alexander (Vol. 3) (Alexander Trilogy) (10 page)

As planned, the King held a war council immediately after sunset with the two armies so close that from their side of the vast plain of Gaugamela the Macedonian guards could hear the calls of the Persian sentries.

As darkness fell and as the first night watch took up position, a lamp was lit in Alexander’s tent and the Companions arrived with the generals of the high command: Koinos, Simmias, Meleager, and Polyperchon, led by Parmenion and Cleitus the Black. They all greeted the King and kissed him on the cheek, then they assembled together, standing around the table on which the officers had drawn a plan of the battlefield. The various infantry and cavalry divisions were represented by different coloured pawns from the King’s games sets.

‘Darius will almost certainly send his war chariots to attack us,’ began Alexander, ‘the idea being that they will overtake our ranks and send the phalanx into disarray; but we will advance obliquely to the enemy front line, which will certainly be extensive because of their overwhelming numerical superiority, and then we will try to move round to the other side of the area that the Great King has had flattened out for the chariot charges. As soon as you see them move, give the signal to the men to make as much noise as possible, beating their swords on their shields and shouting to frighten the horses. Then, when they are within range, the archers and the slingsmen will aim at the chariot drivers and try to take them out of action. This should take care of a great many of them, but the chariots which continue moving might still wreak considerable damage. At that point the commanders of each company will signal with their trumpets to open up breaches in their lines, let the chariots through, and then attack from behind.

‘When the chariot charge has been stopped, the phalanx will advance to the centre, preceded by the heavy cavalry and the
hetairoi
together with the Agrianian and Thracian assault troops, and I will lead the Vanguard across Darius’s lines. We must break and cut off their entire left wing, converge on the centre and drive Darius and the Immortals of the Royal Guard on to the phalanx. Craterus’s and Perdiccas’s battalions will have to resist the impact and set up a counterattack. General Parmenion will remain in reserve at the bottom of our left flank with three battalions of
pezhetairoi
and the Thessalian cavalry, to be ready to deliver the final blow. The right wing of our line up will consist of the Greek allies and the mercenaries coordinated by the Black: their job will be to deal with any flanking manoeuvres from the Persian left wing, to give the Vanguard time to pummel the centre of the enemy lines. Are there any questions?’

‘One,’ said Seleucus. Why have we agreed to fight on terrain that has been chosen by our enemy?’

Alexander seemed uncertain as to whether he should reply, but then he moved closer and looked Seleucus in the eye, ‘Do you know how many fortresses there are spread throughout Darius’s empire from here to the Paropamisus Mountains? Do you have any idea how many fortified passes, how many strongholds and walled cities? To do otherwise would mean growing old in a vain and violent enterprise, we would lose all our forces in a slow death, dripping the lifeblood of our nation, depriving it of its youth and condemning it to an inevitable decline. Darius has been most skilful in drawing me here to this place and he now intends to annihilate me. I have had enough of the game. He does not realize that I have come here of my own free will and that at the very last I will defeat him anyway.’

‘And with what?’ asked Seleucus again, without lowering his eyes.

‘You will see at dawn tomorrow,’ replied Alexander. ‘For now there is nothing more to say. Go to your men and try to rest because tomorrow I want you to fight to the last drop of sweat and to the last spark of energy. May fortune and the gods be with you.’

They all saluted and moved off. Alexander accompanied them to the door and, when they had all left, he went to Bucephalas to feed and water him. As the horse sank his nose into the bag full of oats, Alexander spoke, stroking his mane: ‘My fine Bucephalas, my good friend . . . tomorrow will be your last battle, I promise you. After tomorrow you will appear only on parades; you will carry me whenever we enter in triumph into some city or when you and I alone ride through the hills of Media or along the banks of the Tigris and the Araxes. But first you must lead me to victory tomorrow, Bucephalas, you must carry me faster than the wind, faster than the Persian arrows and bolts – nothing will resist your speed.’

The animal lifted his proud head as he snorted and shook his mane.

‘Do you understand, Bucephalas? You will crush underfoot the Median and Kissean, the Hyrcanian and the Khorasmian horsemen, you will breathe fire from your nostrils like a chimera, in your vigour you will lead all your companions in the furious charge, yours will be the thunder that splits the mountains, and the five hundred steeds of the Vanguard will make the ground shake behind you.’

The stallion scraped the ground with his hoof and suddenly reared up, neighing forth with what seemed to be a challenge. Then he appeared to calm down and moved his muzzle near his master’s chest, looking for a caress. He was trying to say that he was ready and that nothing in the world would halt his gallop.

Alexander kissed him and left, moving off in the direction of the tent of the Queen Mother, Sisygambis, which had been pitched underneath a clump of sycamores on the edge of the camp. He had himself announced by a eunuch who led him into the interior of the quarters, where she received him sitting on her throne.

Alexander waited for her to give him permission to sit down, as was customary at court, and then he began to speak:

‘Great Mother, I have come to tell you that we are about to face Darius in a decisive battle, almost certainly the very last battle. By sunset tomorrow only one of us will have survived and I will do everything to make sure I win the day.’

‘I know,’ replied Sisygambis.

‘This could mean that your son will die.’

The Queen nodded her head gravely.

‘Or that I might die.’

Sisygambis lifted her eyes, moist with tears, and sighed, ‘In any case, for me it will be a sad day – however things may go, whatever may be the outcome of the battle. If you win, I will have lost my son and my homeland. If you lose or if you are killed then I will have lost a person I have learned to love. You have treated me as though you were my son and you have respected all members of my family as no other conqueror ever would have done. You too, my boy, have won a place in my heart. For this reason I can only suffer and I cannot even have the consolation of praying to Ahura Mazda for victory for my soldiers. Go, Alexander, and may you live to see tomorrow’s sunset. This is the only blessing I can bestow upon you.’

The King bowed and left, setting off towards his own tent. The camp was buzzing with activity now in the hour before sleep: the soldiers, arranged on the ground in circles, were eating their suppers and trying to keep one another’s spirits up with the final clash looming. They told tales of courage, they drank, they rolled dice, gambling with the money they now received in abundance from Eumenes’ coffers, they ogled the prostitutes as they danced through the camp. Some others were spending that last evening in the merchants’ camp, where many of them had regular girlfriends and sometimes even children to whom they became more attached with every day that passed. At such a juncture these deep ties of affection were a source of comfort while, at the same time, they were also a source of anxiety because no one knew exactly what awaited them on the following day. This imminent battle was one that might bring them glory and riches or death or, worse still, lifelong slavery.

Alexander came to his own tent after having crossed almost the entire camp. Leptine came to meet him and kissed his hands, ‘My Lord, there has been a strange visit. A man came and brought some food for your supper. I have never seen him before, and I would not trust him if I were you – the food might be poisoned.’

‘Have you thrown it away?’

‘No, but—’

‘Let me see it.’

Leptine led him into the banqueting area and showed him a dish which had been set on the royal table. Alexander smiled and shook his head, ‘Skewered thrush.’ And then he touched it, ‘It’s still hot. Where is he?’

‘He went, but he left this for you,’ and she showed him a tiny roll of papyrus. Alexander unrolled it, read it rapidly, then left straight away, calling to his shield-bearer as he did so, ‘Quickly, prepare the Sarmatian bay.’

The shield-bearer ran towards the corral and immediately returned with the horse harnessed and ready. The King mounted and set off at a gallop, so quickly that his guards did not have time to realize what was happening. When they were ready to set off after him, he had already disappeared into the desert night.

A
LEXANDER CAME TO A
small village consisting of a few mud-brick and bitumen houses located halfway between his camp and the river they had crossed that very morning. He headed towards the well that was in the midst of a clump of palm trees, dismounted and waited.

The moon soon rose from behind a group of low hills bordering the eastern part of the plain and it spread its light over the expanse of stubble that surrounded the village like a golden ring and then over the desert which extended beyond that brief tract of cultivated land, in all directions. He left the horse to graze on the sparse tufts of grass growing here and there among the palms and waited until he saw a silhouette swaying its way along a track, little more than a pathway, which came from the south: Eumolpus of Soloi was approaching on a camel.

‘You can dismount,’ said Alexander, noticing his informer’s worried air. ‘Peritas is back at the camp.’

Hail, O Great King and Lord of Asia,’ began the informer, but Alexander had no time to spare and interrupted him:

Have you managed to find out any more since you wrote that note?’

‘I must tell you the truth – I already knew that Mazaeus was very disillusioned and was sure that the end is nigh for the empire of Cyrus the Great, and I had asked Hephaestion to bring him over to our side if he ever met him on the ford across the Euphrates at Thapsacus. Hephaestion, however, refused to do it, he probably felt that to attempt to lead an opponent into desertion was somehow dishonourable conduct.’

‘I feel the same way.’

‘Let’s say that he feels the same way as you.’

‘If you prefer that.’

‘Fine. But the goddess of fortune has come over to our side – she evidently has some sort of weakness for you, my King. You will find it hard to believe, but it was actually Hephaestion who unwittingly became our contact with Mazaeus. The Persian handed him a statuette to give me as a gift and he delivered it while I was near Thapsacus dealing with some business. The barbarian characters inscribed on the base read, ‘break this statuette’, which I promptly did. Inside there was a message from Mazaeus, which I had a courier communicate to you as you were approaching the ford on the Tigris with the army. However, I wanted to come here in person, to make sure that the message had reached you.’

‘Quite. I saw your skewered thrush.’

‘That was good, don’t you think? My men caught a fair number of them this morning in their nets and so I had this idea of letting you have my password in a most original manner.’

‘You certainly succeeded.’

‘So, what exactly did the messenger tell you?’

‘Mazaeus offers his aid on the battlefield and in exchange he asks to be reconfirmed as Satrap of Babylonia. He says that he will be on the right wing of Darius’s army and so I will be able to lighten my left wing to concentrate all my forces on the other side, where we risk being surrounded. Is that right?’

‘That’s it perfectly. Don’t you think it’s an honest proposal?’

‘Would you trust a traitor?’

‘Yes, if the traitor’s proposal works for both parties, and it seems to me that in this case it does. Mazaeus is sure Darius cannot defeat you; he believes that you will emerge victorious and so he is offering you one thing in exchange for another. Fundamentally, you stand to gain and so does he.’

‘Imagine for a moment that he is lying – I leave the left wing uncovered to reinforce the right wing in view of a possible surrounding manoeuvre by the Persian cavalry. Mazaeus instead leads a charge to my left and catches me from behind while I am about to launch an attack with the Vanguard. A disaster. The end in fact.’

‘That is true, but if you do not take this risk in accepting Mazaeus’s deal, then you may lose in any case because there are so many more of them than there are of you. What’s more, you have accepted to do battle on terrain chosen by them. It really is a dilemma.’

‘Yet I will soon return to my tent and I will sleep peacefully.’

Eumolpus sought to study Alexander’s expression in the uncertain light of the moon, but he could see nothing that might reveal the King’s true intentions. What must I tell Mazaeus tonight?’ he asked. ‘As you can see, I am disguised as a Syrian merchant and I’ll soon be with him to give him your answer.’

Alexander grabbed the reins of his horse and leaped astride it, ‘Tell him I accept,’ he said, as he made ready to set off.

‘Wait!’ Eumolpus stopped him. ‘There is one last thing you might want to know – Barsine’s son is in Darius’s camp and he intends to take part in the battle tomorrow.’