Child of a Dream

by Valerio Massimo Manfredi

The young Prince was about to stand up, but one look from his father kept him seated. At that moment Eumenes entered and handed the seal to Alexander, who slipped it onto his finger and said, without much enthusiasm, ‘I am grateful for the honour you have bestowed upon me and I will strive to be worthy of it.’

  Philip turned to his secretary. ‘Read the commanders the letter I sent to the new King of the Persians. I want them to be aware that some of them might just have to leave soon for Asia to clear the way for us.’

  Eumenes read the letter with his clear voice but in a solemn tone and when he had finished the King continued, ‘If the reply is as I expect it will be, Parmenion might cross the Straits and take the eastern shore in preparation for our invasion of Asia. In the meantime we will concentrate on teaching the Greeks once and for all that there can be only one pan-Hellenic League – with me as leader. This is all I have to communicate to you. You may now return to your activities.’

  Alexander waited for them all to leave at the end of the council so that he could talk face to face with his father.

  ‘Why are you intent upon leaving me in Pella? I have to lead the Vanguard in battle, not in parades. And Antipater is certainly capable of looking after the affairs of state in your absence.’

  ‘I have thought long and hard before taking this decision and I have no intention of changing it now. The government of the country is more difficult and perhaps more important than the war. I have many enemies, Alexander, not only in Athens and Thebes, but in Pella and in Macedon, not to mention Persia, and I need to know that I am leaving behind a stable situation, in good hands, while I am doing battle far away. And I trust you.’

  The young man lowered his head, finding it impossible to object in any way to those words. But Philip understood how his son felt and began again: ‘The seal you have been given is a sign of one of the highest honours in the whole world and bearing that seal requires much greater abilities than those required in leading a cavalry squadron.

  ‘It is here, in the palace, that you will learn to be a king, not on the battlefield; politics is the king’s profession, not the use of the spear and the sword. Nevertheless, should the moment arrive when the final clash cannot be avoided, if I find myself in need of all the force I can muster, I will send for you and you will lead the Vanguard into battle, no one else. Come on, don’t look like that, I have prepared a surprise for you to keep your spirits up.’

  Alexander shook his head. ‘What have you been up to, O father of mine?’

  ‘You’ll see,’ said Philip, with a smile on his face. Then he stood up and left the council room. Shortly afterwards Alexander heard him call his squire in a loud voice, ordering him to bring his horse, bridled, and to alert the guard. The Prince went to look out from the loggia that overlooked the courtyard just in time to see Philip gallop off into the night.

  Alexander remained in his study until late that night preparing for the following day’s duties. Then, just before midnight, he extinguished the lamp and went towards his apartment. As soon as he entered he called for Leptine, but the girl did not reply.

  ‘Leptine!’ he repeated, losing his patience. She must have fallen ill or perhaps she was angry with him for some reason. Then another voice came from the darkness of his bed chamber, ‘Leptine has had to go away. She’ll be back tomorrow.’

  ‘By Zeus!’ exclaimed Alexander on hearing the unknown voice coming from the depths of his own room. He put his hand to his sword and went in.

  ‘It’s not that sword you’ll be wanting to thrust into me,’ said the voice. And there before him, sitting on his bed, was a stunningly beautiful girl he had never seen before.

  ‘Who are you and who gave you permission to enter my room?’ he asked.

  ‘I am the surprise that your father, King Philip, has organized for you. My name is Pancaspe.’

  ‘I am sorry, Pancaspe,’ replied Alexander, pointing to the door, ‘but if I wanted this type of surprise I’d be quite capable of organizing it for myself. Farewell.’

  The girl got to her feet, but rather than moving towards the door, with a flick of her wrist she undid the hooks that held her peplum and stood there before Alexander, naked except for a pair of leggings made of silver ribbons.

  Alexander’s arm, which an instant previously had been raised to indicate the door, fell limply to his side and, speechless, he feasted his eyes on her. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life, so beautiful she took his breath away and made the blood rush through his veins. Her neck was soft and smooth, her shoulders straight, her breasts firm and erect, her thighs shapely and smooth as though sculpted from Paros marble. He felt his tongue go dry against his palate.

  The young woman moved closer, took him by the hand and led him towards the bath chamber. ‘May I undress you?’ she asked as she began unhooking his chiton and his small military cloak, his chlamys.

  ‘I’m worried that Leptine will be furious and that . . .’ Alexander began to stutter.

  ‘Perhaps, but you will certainly be happy and satisfied. I assure you.’ The Prince was now also naked and the girl clung to him with all her strength, but as soon as she felt the extent of his remarkable reaction she pulled away and led him into the bath.

  ‘It will be even better in here. You’ll see.’

  Alexander acquiesced and she began to stroke him with a skill and dexterity that up until that moment had simply been unimaginable for him. She excited him almost to the point of climax and then retreated delicately to begin her caresses again in more marginal areas of his body.

  When she felt that he was truly exploding with excitement she slipped out of the bath and went to lie down on the bed, dripping perfumed water under the golden light of the lamps. She opened her legs and the young man dived on her, but she whispered in his ear, ‘That must be how you use the battering ram when you have to bring down the walls of a city. Let me be your guide here and you’ll see . . .’

  Alexander let her take the lead and he felt himself sinking into pleasure like a stone into water, a pleasure that grew ever stronger and more intense until the explosion came. But Pancaspe still wanted more and she began to stimulate him again with her moist, burning mouth before she mounted him and took the lead once more, slowly this time, in their second dance of love. And that night the young Prince understood that pleasure could take him a thousand times higher than his experience with Leptine’s rough and ingenuous lovemaking.

  22

  FROM THE MOMENT Philip left, Alexander received dispatches every day without fail, keeping him informed of operational progress. This was how he learned that Philip in his very first move had achieved his aim by occupying Kithinion and then Elatea towards the end of summer.

  Philip, King of Macedon, hails Alexander.

  Today, third day of the month of Metageitnion, I occupied Elatea.

  My achievements breed panic in Athens because everyone there felt sure I planned to lead my army against them and that I would force the Thebans to march with me too. But Demosthenes convinced the citizenry that my intention was simply to put pressure on Thebes to prevent them from forging an alliance with Athens. And he persuaded them to send him to Thebes with a delegation to do that very thing, to forge an alliance. I too have decided to send an embassy to the city to persuade them not to do so. I will keep you informed.

  Take good care of yourself and your mother the Queen.

  Alexander sent for Callisthenes who had joined him in the palace just a few days previously. ‘Things are proceeding more or less as I had foreseen,’ he said. ‘I have just received a despatch from my father on the progress of his expedition. Two embassies – one Athenian, the other Macedonian – will now attempt to persuade the Thebans to make an alliance with one or the other. Who do you think will win?’

  Callisthenes arranged his cloak over his left arm with a rather pompous gesture and said, ‘Predicting events is always a dangerous exercise, an occupation more befitting a seer than a historian. Who is leading the
Athenian embassy?’

  ‘Demosthenes.’

  ‘In that case he will win them over. There is no greater orator in Greece today. Get ready to leave Pella.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘That the day of the final clash is nigh and your father will want you at his side in the battlefield.’

  Alexander looked into his eyes. ‘If this happens you will write the history of my deeds, when the moment comes.’

  *

  The Prince was well aware now of just how right his father was: administering political power was more demanding than fighting in the field. Everyone at court felt it their duty to give him advice, because he was so young, and everyone believed they could influence his decisions, especially his mother.

  One evening she invited him to supper in her apartments under the pretext of giving him a cloak she had embroidered for him.

  ‘It’s wonderful,’ Alexander said as soon as he saw it and then added, even though he had immediately recognized the refined craftwork typical of Ephesus, ‘You must have spent months working on it.’

  There were only two couches and low tables, arranged alongside each other.

  ‘I thought Cleopatra might have been here with us this evening.’

  ‘She has caught a chill and is running a slight temperature. Please excuse her. But make yourself comfortable, please. Supper is ready.’

  Alexander stretched out on his couch and took a few almonds from a platter while a girl began serving a soup of goose meat and a type of bread baked under the embers of the fire. His mother’s meals were always rather simple and frugal.

  Olympias took a reclining position as well and had the girl serve her a bowl of soup.

  ‘Well: tell me, how do you feel about sitting on your father’s throne?’ she asked after having taken a few spoonfuls.

  ‘No differently than when I sit on any other chair,’ replied her son without attempting to hide his slight irritation.

  ‘Don’t talk round the question.’ Olympias gave him a reproving stare. ‘You know exactly what I mean.’

  ‘I know, Mother. But what can I say? I try to do my best, to avoid making mistakes, to look after the affairs of state diligently.’

  ‘Admirable,’ observed the Queen.

  A handmaid placed a bowl of legumes and salad on the table in front of her and proceeded to season it with oil, vinegar and salt.

  ‘Alexander,’ Olympias began again, ‘have you ever considered that your father might suddenly pass away?’

  ‘My father fights in the front line with his soldiers. It’s a possibility.’

  ‘And if it should happen?’

  The handmaid poured some wine, took the bowl away and returned with a skewer of cooked crane meat and a cup of pureed peas which the Prince declined with a simple movement of his hand.

  ‘I’m sorry, I’d forgotten that you hate peas. Well . . . have you thought about this eventuality?’

  ‘I would be most sorry. I love my father.’

  ‘But that is not what I meant, Alexander. I am talking about the succession.’

  ‘No one has any right to put my succession to the throne in doubt.’

  ‘For as long as your father is alive and for as long as I am alive . . .’

  ‘Mother, you are thirty-seven years old.’

  ‘That means nothing. Fate can strike anyone. What I mean is that your cousin Amyntas is five years older than you and he was heir to the throne before your birth. Someone might propose him as candidate in your place. And what’s more, your father has another son by one of his . . . brides.’

  Alexander shrugged his shoulders. ‘Arrhidaeaus is a poor halfwit.’

  ‘A halfwit, but he still has royal blood in his veins. He still might cause you problems.’

  ‘So what should I do, in your opinion?’

  ‘Now that your father is far away you hold the power. You have access to the royal treasure, you can do what you want. All you have to do is pay someone.’

  Alexander’s mood darkened. ‘My father let Amyntas live, even after my birth, and I have no intention of doing what you are suggesting. Never.’

  Olympias shook her head. ‘Aristotle must have filled your head with his notions about democracy, but things are different for kings. A king has to be sure of his succession – don’t you understand that?’

  ‘Enough, Mother. My father is alive, you are in good health and that’s the end of it. If one day I should find myself in need of help, I will turn to your brother, the King of Epirus. He loves me and will support me.’

  ‘Listen . . .’ Olympias insisted.

  But Alexander’s patience had come to an end; he quickly got to his feet and kissed his mother hurriedly on the cheek. ‘Thank you for the meal, Mother. I must go now. Goodnight.’

  He went down into the internal courtyard of the palace and inspected the guard before going back up to see Eumenes who was busy in his study arranging the King’s incoming correspondence.

  ‘Any news of my father?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes, but all’s quiet. The Thebans still haven’t decided whose side they’re on.’

  ‘What is Amyntas up to these days?’

  Eumenes looked at him with surprise written all over his face. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Exactly what I said.’

  ‘Well . . . I don’t know. I think he’s off hunting in Lyncestis.’

  ‘Fine. When he returns give him a diplomatic mission.’

  ‘Diplomatic? But what type of diplomatic mission?’

  ‘You choose. There must be some type of mission suitable for him, surely? In Asia, in Thrace, in the islands. Wherever you like.’

  Eumenes started objecting. ‘Really . . . I wouldn’t know what to . . .’

  But Alexander had already left the room.

  *

  Philip’s envoys arrived in Thebes in late autumn and were admitted to speak in front of a full citizens’ assembly in the theatre.

  The council wanted the citizenry to be able to evaluate the two proposals by comparing them without a long interval between the two presentations, so that same day the Athenian embassy was also admitted to the city, led by Demosthenes himself.

  Philip had discussed the proposals to be presented to the Thebans at some length with his chiefs of staff, and he firmly believed them to be so advantageous that they would surely be accepted. He had no plans to ask them to form an alliance with him, fully aware that Thebes was behind Amphissa, the city against which the sacred war had been declared: their neutrality would have been enough for him. In exchange he offered considerable economic and territorial gains. Were they to refuse, he would threaten waste and ruin of their city. Who could possibly be crazy enough to refuse?

  The leader of the Macedonian delegation, Eudemus of Oreus, concluded his presentation with sapient doses of flattery, threats and blackmail; and then he left the theatre.

  Shortly afterwards he met a Theban friend and informer who led him to a vantage point from which he could see and hear what was happening in the assembly. He realized that Philip would ask him to report on things he had heard himself rather than giving him second-hand news.

  The assembly took the briefest of pauses, just long enough to ensure that the Macedonians did not meet the Athenians – thus avoiding any brawling. Demosthenes’ delegation then entered the theatre.

  The great orator was austere in appearance, philosophical, with a thin, lean body and expressive eyes below a forehead that bore a perpetual frown. It was said that as a youngster he had had problems with elocution and a weak voice and that his ambition to become an orator had led him to practise by declaiming verses from Euripides on the rocky seashore during storms. It was well known that he never spoke without notes because he was not a good improviser, and no one was surprised when he pulled out a bundle of sheets from under his cloak.

  He began to read in a studied voice and spoke at length of the various stages in Philip’s irresistible advance, of his continual violations
of pacts and agreements. At a certain point, however, his passion took over and he came out with an eloquent plea:

  ‘But do you not realize, citizens of Thebes, that the sacred war is simply a pretext, as was the previous one and the one before that? Philip wants your neutrality because he wants to divide the forces of free Greece and to bring down the strongholds of freedom one by one. If you leave the Athenians to stand alone against him, it will be your turn next and then you too will succumb.

  ‘And in just the same way, if you take on Philip alone and you lose, Athens will not be able to defend itself alone. He wants to divide us because he knows full well that only our united forces can stand up to his aggression.

  ‘I know that there have been many causes of conflict and even war between us, but these were all conflicts between free cities. Today we have a tyrant on the one hand and free men on the other. There can be no doubt about your choice, Thebans!

  ‘As a token of our good faith we will cede command of our land troops to you while we retain sole control of the fleet and we undertake to finance two thirds of the total expenses.’

  There came a murmuring from the rows of the assembly and the orator realized that his words had hit their mark. He then prepared to deliver the final blow, well aware of the risk he was about to run – possible repudiation by his own government.

  ‘For over half a century,’ he began again, ‘the cities of Plataea and Thespiae, although part of Boeotia, have been allies of Athens, and Athens has always guaranteed their independence. Now we are willing to bring them under your control, to convince them to accept your authority, if you will accept our proposal and unite with us in the battle against the tyrant.’

  Demosthenes’ passion, his inspired tone, the timbre of his voice, the force of his arguments, all combined to help him achieve his desired aim. When he fell silent, breathless and with sweat dripping from his forehead, many in the assembly stood up to applaud him and they were joined by others and then more again until the entire theatre was paying tribute to him in a long ovation.