Alexander (Vol. 2)

by Valerio Massimo Manfredi

  Bringing up the tail of the procession was a meagre division of not at all aggressive-looking soldiers, and at the very end an entourage of carts of various sizes together with beasts of burden.

  When the caravan was about half a stadium away, it came to a halt. One of the men from the escort came forward to the place where Alexander was resting in the shade of the elm tree and asked to be taken to him.

  ‘O Great King, my Lady, Ada, Queen of Caria, asks for an audience with you.’

  Alexander nodded to Leptine to tidy up his cloak and his hair and to arrange his diadem, then he replied, ‘Your Lady is most welcome whenever she wishes.’

  ‘Even now?’ asked the foreigner in Greek with a marked oriental accent.

  ‘Even now. We have very little to offer, but we would be most honoured if she should care to sit at our table.’

  Eumenes, understanding the nature of the situation, immediately gave orders for them to pitch at least the roof of the royal pavilion, so that the guests might sit in some shade. He had tables and chairs arranged so very quickly that as they saw the Queen approaching everything was ready.

  A footman knelt on all fours and the great dame came down from her mule using his back as a step. She then approached Alexander, who welcomed her with demonstrations of profound respect.

  ‘Welcome, great Lady,’ he said in his most refined Greek. ‘Do you speak my tongue?’

  ‘I most certainly do,’ replied the female dignitary, who was now being offered a carved wooden throne that had been unloaded from one of the carriages of her entourage. ‘May I sit down?’

  ‘Please do,’ said the King as he invited her to sit with a gesture and he sat in his turn, surrounded by his companions. ‘These here before you are my friends, closer to me than brothers, and all members of my personal guard – Hephaestion, Seleucus, Ptolemy, Perdiccas, Craterus, Leonnatus, Lysimachus, Philotas. This one here by my side, the one who looks most warlike,’ and at this he couldn’t help but give a half smile, ‘is my secretary general, Eumenes of Cardia.’

  ‘Hail, Secretary General.’ The elderly woman greeted Eumenes with a gracious bow of her head.

  Alexander studied her carefully: she was between fifty and sixty years old, closer to sixty. Her hair was not dyed and she made no attempt to hide the grey around her temples, but she must have been a woman of considerable charm once. Her woollen dress, Carian with a pattern of squares, each one embroidered with a scene from mythology, clung to her, revealing a figure that just a few years previously must have made her extremely attractive.

  Her eyes were a fine amber colour, bright and serene, highlighted with delicate make-up, her nose straight, her cheekbones prominent, all of which granted her an expression of great dignity. Her hair was gathered into a bun, on top of which was a light golden crown decorated with lapis lazuli and turquoise, but both her clothing and her deportment carried something melancholic and in some way antiquated, as if her life no longer made any sense to her.

  The pleasantries and the introductions took some considerable time. Alexander noticed that Eumenes was scribbling something on a sheet which he then placed on the table before him. Out of the corner of his eye Alexander read:

  The person before you is Ada, Queen of Caria. She has been married to two of her own brothers, one of whom was twenty years younger, but they are both dead now. Her last brother is Pixodarus, who you will remember could have been your father-in-law and who has effectively ousted her from power. This could be a most interesting meeting. Make the most of it.

  No sooner had he read those few lines than the woman sitting before him began her speech: ‘I am Ada, Queen of Caria, and I now live an isolated life in my fortress at Alinda. I am sure that my brother would chase me from there if he had the strength to do so. Life and destiny have failed to grant me any children and I am now approaching my old age with a certain amount of sadness in my heart, but above all else I am pained by the treatment I have received from the last and most wicked of my brothers, Pixodarus.’

  ‘But how did you know all this?’ whispered Alexander to Eumenes who was sitting next to him.

  ‘It’s my job to know these things,’ his secretary general replied. ‘And then, if you remember, haven’t I already got you out of trouble with these people once before?’

  Alexander indeed remembered his father’s fury on the day he had ruined all prospect of marriage between his stepbrother Arrhidaeaus and Pixodarus’s daughter, and he smiled to himself, reflecting on the bizarre nature of fate – this lady, whose appearance and demeanour were so particular, a complete stranger to him, could have been a relative.

  ‘May I ask you to sit at our humble table?’

  Ada graciously bowed her head once more. ‘I thank you and I accept with great pleasure. Nevertheless, being aware of the nature of army cooking, I have taken the liberty of bringing something from home which I hope you might appreciate.’

  She clapped her hands and her servants brought loaves of warm bread from the carriages, cakes with raisins, tarts, puff pastries made with honey, rolls filled with beaten egg, flour, mulled wine and many other delicacies.

  Hephaestion’s mouth fell open and a line of saliva dribbled down off his chin on to his breastplate; Leonnatus was tempted to reach out immediately, but Eumenes promptly stood on his foot.

  ‘Please,’ said Ada encouragingly, ‘help yourselves, there is plenty for everyone.’

  They all attacked the food, which reminded them of their childhood – dishes prepared by the expert hands of their mothers and nannies. Alexander nibbled on a biscuit and then moved closer to the Queen, sitting down next to her on a stool.

  ‘Why have you come to me, my lady, if I may ask?’

  ‘As I explained, I am Queen of Caria, daughter of Mausolus, he who is entombed in the great monument at Halicarnassus. Pixodarus, my brother, has usurped the throne and now holds the city, after having become a relative of the Persian satrap Orontobates, to whom he gave his daughter in marriage. I have been stripped not only of power, but of my prerogatives, my incomes and most of my residences.

  ‘All of this is unfair and those responsible must be punished. I have therefore come to you, young King of Macedon, to offer you the fortress and the city of Alinda. Whoever controls Alinda controls the entire interior of the country, territory without which Halicarnassus cannot survive.’

  She made this speech in the most natural manner possible, as if she were talking of some sort of parlour game. Alexander stared at her in amazement, barely able to believe his ears.

  Queen Ada nodded to a servant to come closer with a tray of sweetmeats, so that the King might help himself: ‘Another biscuit, my boy?’

  21

  ALEXANDER WHISPERED TO EUMENES that he wished to be left alone with his guest and shortly afterwards his companions took their leave. They did so one by one, each mentioning some prior engagement out of respect for Queen Ada. Peritas on the other hand actually put in an appearance, attracted as he was by the scent of the delicacies.

  ‘My lady,’ Alexander began, ‘I do not think I have understood fully – you want to offer me the fortress and the city of Alinda without asking anything in return?’

  ‘Not exactly,’ replied the Queen. ‘There is something I would like in return.’

  ‘Speak, and if I can, I will give you this thing. What do you wish?’

  ‘A son,’ replied Ada, as if this desire were the most natural thing in the world.

  Alexander went pale and sat there motionless, biscuit in hand, staring at the Queen with his mouth open. Peritas barked as if to let his master know that he would gladly have the biscuit if it was not going to be eaten.

  ‘My lady, I do not believe I am able . . .’

  Ada smiled. ‘Now I don’t think you have understood, my boy.’ The fact that she insisted on calling him ‘my boy’ when they had only just met seemed extremely significant of something. ‘Unfortunately, I have never had the consolation of being a mother, and perhaps all things
told it has been better this way, given the dynastic customs and requirements by which I had to marry my brothers – first one and then another. Each time I was widowed my grief was twofold for this reason.

  ‘But if fate had granted me a normal husband and a child of my own then I would have wanted a son like you – handsome and kind and noble in bearing yet decided in character, courageous and audacious, but also affable and affectionate as they tell me you are, an opinion which I can now say I share, having met you. In other words, I am asking you to become my son.’

  Alexander was dumbfounded, while Queen Ada looked at him with her amber eyes – gentle and melancholic.

  ‘Well then? What do you say to that, my boy?’

  ‘I . . . I don’t know how we could manage . . .’

  ‘It is very simple – an adoption.’

  ‘And by what procedure would this adoption take place?’

  ‘I am Queen: if you agree, all I need do is pronounce the words and you become my son.’

  Alexander looked at her with increasing bewilderment in his eyes.

  ‘Am I perhaps asking too much of you?’ said Ada with a slightly worried expression.

  ‘No, it’s just that . . .’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I simply wasn’t ready for such a request. On the other hand I can only be flattered and therefore . . .’ Ada leaned forward slightly to listen better, as if to make sure she would not miss any of the words she was expecting, ‘. . . therefore I am delighted and honoured to accept your offer.’

  The Queen was moved to tears, ‘You really do accept?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I must warn you, I will require that you call me “Mother”.’

  ‘As you wish . . . Mother.’

  Ada dried her eyes with an embroidered handkerchief, then she lifted her head, straightened her shoulders, cleared her throat and declared, ‘Then I, Ada, daughter of Mausolus, Queen of Caria, adopt you, Alexander, King of Macedon, as my son, and I name you sole heir of all my realm and all my goods.’ She held out her hand and Alexander kissed it.

  ‘I will await you tomorrow at Alinda, my boy. And now, my dearest, you may kiss me.’

  Alexander stood up and kissed her on both cheeks, appreciating as he did so her oriental perfume of sandal-wood and wild rose. Peritas approached, wagging his tail and whining in the hope that perhaps this lady would give him a biscuit.

  The Queen stroked him, ‘This animal of yours is most amusing . . . even if he is a little on the large side.’ She then departed with her entourage, leaving an abundance of food for her son and his friends, all strapping young men with remarkable appetites. Alexander stood watching her as she left on the white mule, one servant holding the large embroidered parasol, another swishing away the flies. When he turned round he found Eumenes looking at him and the secretary general didn’t know whether to burst out laughing or keep a straight, solemn face befitting the gravity of the circumstances.

  Alexander said, ‘Let me tell you there will be real trouble if you ever let my mother know . . . Olympias is capable of having me poisoned.’ Then he turned towards his dog, who had lost his patience with this pointless waiting and was barking wildly. ‘And you can go straight to your kennel!’ he shouted.

  *

  Early the following day Alexander ordered Parmenion to lead the army towards Mylasa and to accept, in his name, the surrender of all the cities – large and small – along the way. The King himself, together with Hephaestion and his personal guard, set off at a gallop towards Alinda.

  They rode through enormous vineyards which emanated the delicate but intense perfume of their invisible blossom, green expanses of wheat fields, and then pastures dotted with infinite varieties of flowers of every colour, among which large red splashes of poppies dominated.

  Alinda appeared before them in the heat of the midday sun, standing dominant at the top of a hill, surrounded by massive walls of grey stone above which towered the gigantic mass of the fortress, a grim rock with turrets from which flew the blue standards of the realm of Caria.

  On the walkways the soldiers were lined up, armed with long lances and with bows and quivers worn across their backs, and before the main gate was a squadron of cavalry lined up in two rows – horsemen in their parade armour astride splendidly bedecked horses.

  As they came closer the gates opened and there before them was Queen Ada sitting on a canopied litter, shouldered by sixteen semi-naked slaves and preceded by Carian maids dressed in Greek-style peplums, all of them scattering rose-petals on the ground.

  Alexander dismounted and together with Hephaestion continued on foot until they came to the gatehouse. Ada made a gesture for the slaves to lower her, and she walked towards her adoptive son and kissed him on the face and on the head.

  ‘How are you, Mother?’

  ‘All the better for seeing you,’ the Queen replied. Then she had the litter taken away, took Alexander by the arm and walked with him towards the city, where a cheering crowd had gathered, anxious to see Ada’s son.

  Flowers and rose – and poppy-petals rained down from the windows of the houses all around, gliding gently in the spring breeze which bore with it the fragrance of cut grass and fresh hay.

  Then there came the music of flutes and harps to accompany their walk – a sweet and vaguely infantile music which reminded Alexander of the songs his wet nurse used to sing him when he was an infant.

  On the arm of his gentle, affectionate and essentially unknown mother in the midst of all those celebrating people, he felt moved. And this land, in which the other side of every hill held a mystery that might just be a violent ambush or the magic of an enchanted place, this land was captivating him ever more, inciting him to keep on looking for new wonders. What exactly was out there beyond the mountains that rose above the towers of Alinda?

  They reached the entrance to the fortress, decorated with figures in relief of the gods and heroes of this ancient place, and before them stood a line of dignitaries dressed in the finest clothes, all woven with gold and silver. At the top of the stairway which led inside, two thrones had been prepared – a central, higher one and one to the right of it, a lower and more modest one.

  Ada indicated the more imposing throne and took her own place alongside. The square in front of the fortress in the meantime had been filling up and when the entire space was full of people, of all social backgrounds and from all over the land, a herald brought them to silence. In a stentorian voice the same herald then recited the act of adoption in Carian and in Greek.

  The applause seemed endless, and the Queen responded with the slightest wave of her hand while Alexander raised both his arms to the sky, just as he always did before his assembled troops.

  Then the doors behind them opened and the two sovereigns, mother and son, disappeared inside.

  22

  ALEXANDER AND HEPHAESTION would have liked to leave that very same day, but it was simply impossible. Ada had prepared a fine banquet for the evening and had invited all the dignitaries of the city. Many of them had paid a considerable sum of money to be there and had brought precious gifts for the Queen, as if she were in fact a young mother with her firstborn child.

  The following day the guests were taken to visit the fortress and the city, and although they insisted, it was quite out of the question for them to leave before the afternoon. Even then Alexander had a difficult time freeing himself from his new mother – he had to explain to her that all things told he was actually at war and that his army was waiting for him on the road to Halicarnassus.

  ‘Unfortunately,’ sighed Ada as she said goodbye to him, ‘I cannot give you any soldiers. Those I have are barely enough to protect the stronghold here. But I can give you something perhaps more important than soldiers.’

  She clapped her hands and immediately twelve or so men appeared with beasts of burden and carts full of hessian sacks and wicker baskets.

  ‘Who . . . who are these men?’ asked Alexander, somewhat alarmed.r />
  ‘Cooks, my boy, cooks, bakers and confectioners . . . the best there are this side of the Straits. You must eat properly, my dear, with all the ordeals you’ll be facing . . . the war, the battles . . . unfortunately I can well imagine the poor quality of your victuals. I don’t believe anyone has ever sung the praises of Macedonian cooks for the quality and refinement of their dishes. I imagine all you get is salted meat and unleavened bread, stuff that is difficult to digest, and so I thought I would . . .’ and the Queen was set to go on for ever.

  Alexander, however, interrupted her with a polite gesture. ‘You are very kind, Mother, but in all sincerity this is not exactly what I need. A good night march is what’s required for breakfast with an appetite, and after a day on horseback supper is always good, whatever has been prepared. And when I am truly thirsty, fresh water is better than the best of wines. In truth, Mother, these men would cause me more problems than they would solve. Thank you in any case, I am as grateful as I would be if I had accepted them.’

  Ada lowered her head, ‘I simply thought you would appreciate my looking after you.’

  ‘I know,’ replied Alexander as he took her by the hand. ‘I know and I do . . . I am most grateful. But you must let me live as I am used to living. Whatever becomes of me I will always remember you with deep affection.’

  He kissed her and then mounted Bucephalas and galloped off under the relieved gaze of the cooks, for whom the prospect of the military life had in truth not been so very attractive.

  Ada watched until he disappeared, together with his friend, behind a hill. Then she turned towards her kitchen staff and said, ‘What are you doing standing there? Come on, get to work. Tomorrow, before sunrise, I want you to have produced the best dishes you can manage and then we’ll have them all sent to my boy and his friends wherever they may be. What sort of mother would I be if I did any less for him?’