The Eternal Banquet

by Jennifer Macaire

  ‘Alexander did that? Oh, how dreadful.’ My voice cracked.

  I swore I would live to avenge my family, but fate decided otherwise. The perfidious king died nearly two years ago in Babylon, long may his shade suffer. I heard say that they forgot to put gold in his mouth, and that his funeral cortège was stolen by Ptolemy, then disappeared. He never had a funeral. I suppose I should feel satisfied, but I don’t. I feel cheated.’

  I swallowed with an effort. ‘But, didn’t you take refuge in the temples?’

  ‘We could not; we were not Phoenicians but Greek, and their temples were closed to us. The only Greek temple was full. We fought alongside the soldiers of the city. But we were defeated, and the people who had not taken refuge in the temples were sold into slavery or executed.’

  ‘How dreadful,’ I whispered. ‘What about the rest of your family?’

  ‘I don’t know what happened to them. I was stunned by a rock,’ he pointed to a scar on his temple, ‘and when I woke up I was on a ship being taken to the coast where I was sold to a merchant. He took me to Byblos and there the glass merchant bought me. I never had the chance to find out what happened to my family.’

  ‘But is there a chance they are still in Tyre? Did you ever write to ask?’

  He looked at me and frowned. ‘I have no idea to whom I could write. They could be slaves, and in that case, they will have new names. On the other hand, they could all be dead. I really have no idea what happened to them. Someday I will go back to Tyre and find out. Until then, I bide my time. My future is not to remain a slave. Soon I will be able to buy my freedom.’

  ‘What will you do then?’ I asked, torn between pity and horror.

  ‘What I really wish is a chance for revenge. In my tribe, revenge was the most sacred duty. He is dead, but I will curse Alexander and his family until the day I die.’ His voice was little more than a hiss at the end of his speech. At that moment, David called for him to go on an errand. Yousaff gave a little bow and left quickly.

  I closed my eyes and leaned back against the cushions. I felt ill. The sweet juice left me nauseated, and the rocking of the boat didn’t help. Suddenly, I wanted to get off, to find Alexander, to have his strong arms around me, and hear him tell me that everything was going to be fine. Perhaps it was because I’d half started believing in gods and fate. A curse was not something to be taken lightly. My children and I were part of Alexander’s family, and therefore on the receiving end of the slave’s curse.

  My heartbeat returned to normal, my stomach settled. I took a shaky breath and decided it was simply shock making me feel so nervous. I was glad when I heard Alexander's and David's voices and footsteps on the deck. I glanced at the doorway. Alexander ducked through, his face tense. When he saw me he relaxed and I saw his shoulders slump.

  ‘Ashley, I was so worried.’

  ‘I was caught in the crowd and David let me rest here.’

  ‘He told me about it. It was very kind of him. You look pale, are you feeling well?’ He took my hand and sat next to me. I leaned my head on his shoulder and sighed contentedly.

  ‘I’m all right now. I wasn’t too alarmed, not for myself at least, but I was anxious for the baby.’ I patted my tummy. ‘Shall we go back to the boat? I feel a need to rest.’

  ‘There’s no room in the boat. Phaleria has turned it into a boutique and her wares are unpacked. We shall have to go back to the Roman’s villa.’ He saw my look of dismay and kissed me. ‘Don’t worry; I will order a litter.’

  ‘Alex, we don’t have any money,’ I said in a whisper. Litters were terribly expensive. Four people carried them, and they were used by the very wealthy to get around in. Decrepit old women favoured them. So did courtesans. ‘Don’t bother about a litter. I can ride back in the chariot with Polliana.’

  ‘He’s gone back to the villa.’

  ‘Then I’ll walk. We can just go slowly.’

  ‘No, I won’t have you losing your babe. Remember what happened in Ecbatana? You must rest now. I’ll go find a litter and you relax. Do you want me to send you Plexis and Paul? They are helping Phaleria, but I’m sure she can spare them.’

  I did remember Ecbatana, and the miscarriage that I suffered there. I had lost a baby because I’d been walking and riding too much. The memory was a painful one. I’d been so happy to have a child; Paul had been in the clutches of Darius, and I’d thought we’d never find him. Unfortunately, I’d miscarried, and my next child, a little girl, had died when she was just three months old. Now I had three children: Paul, whom we’d finally found in Nysa; Chiron, my bright-eyed boy; and Cleopatra, my little ice-maiden. A fourth baby was on the way. It was my sixth pregnancy which was a normal number of pregnancies for this era, given my age and health. Children didn’t die as easily as they would in the Middle Ages. Medicine was actually more effective; the Greeks and Arabs had many remedies. Unfortunately, science would vanish, not to be discovered again until modern times. The Middle Ages, aptly termed the Dark Ages, were years of ignorance and fear. A little ice age would make the climate a terrible hardship, and religion would make science a sin. Luckily, I was in an age of enlightenment. I patted Alexander’s arm.

  ‘I’ll be fine by myself. Are you sure you can pay for a litter?’ I frowned at him.

  He shrugged. ‘I’ll think of something. Until then, stay here. I'll send Plexis for you.’

  I peered through the doorway. The deck was empty. Had the slave seen him? I wondered, worried for some reason.

  He kissed me tenderly and then left. For a minute, he stood in the doorway looking back at me, his face in the darkness of the hold. Then he disappeared into the bright sunlight. The last I saw of him was his shadow, slipping silently up the stairs.

  I don’t know why I felt such tightness in my chest, as if he were going into danger. Whatever the reason, I wouldn’t be comforted. When the glass merchant came back, thankfully with Plexis in tow, I was nearly frantic with worry.

  ‘It’s nothing, just my nerves,’ I explained, hastily wiping my face with my hem.

  The slave Yousaff looked at me queerly. Had he caught a glimpse of the man who’d conquered Tyre and destroyed his world? I hoped not. I felt completely disoriented, as if the day were a dream. I put my hand on my forehead, but no, I had no fever. Perhaps it was simply my hormones getting the better of me. In any case, I hoped it would soon pass. I stood shakily and bade the glass merchant and his slave ‘goodbye’. Plexis helped me up the stairs and held my elbow as we walked back towards the boat. Once there he made me a seat in the shade and gave me a fan made of brightly dyed egret feathers.

  ‘Where did you get that?’ I asked.

  ‘Paul found it floating in the water near the stern of the boat. Are you feeling better? We were anxious about you. I wish you wouldn’t wander around alone. Please tell me next time, I’ll accompany you.’ His handsome face was serious. For once, his eyes had lost their teasing sparkle.

  I nodded. ‘I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking. Where has Alexander gone?’

  ‘To fetch a litter.’

  ‘How will he pay for it?’

  ‘I haven’t the faintest idea,’ he said with a shrug, ‘but don’t worry, he’ll think of something.’

  I told him about the slave and his face grew dark.

  ‘Do you think he recognized him?’

  ‘I don’t see how. Remember, he is officially dead. Even Ptolemy hardly recognized him when he went to the palace. The slave will simply think it’s someone who looks like him. Tyre was taken when Iskander was still young. He’s changed since then. His hair is much darker and he has a different walk, thanks to his shattered ankle.’

  ‘That’s true,’ I said reflectively. ‘He has changed. Moreover, he’s changed since Babylon. He’s so much calmer now, so … so,’ I searched for a word.

  ‘Reasonable?’ Plexis asked, wrinkling his nose. ‘Is that the word you were looking for?’

  I grinned wryly. ‘I would like to ask Demos how he recognized Alexander after
twelve years. It was a complete surprise.’

  ‘Demos identified him because he knew him well. A man fighting in the heat of a battle would not.’

  ‘There is something about that slave though; he’s different from anyone I’ve met in this time. He gives me the impression of … oh, you’re going to think I’m foolish, but he’s like someone from my own time. He’s angry. He doesn’t feel as if he deserves to be a slave.’

  ‘That’s normal, no one feels as if they deserve to be a slave.’ Plexis didn’t sound concerned.

  ‘Yes, but they accept their fate, this man does not.’

  ‘You sound so sure of yourself. How long did you speak to him? A few minutes? You must have misunderstood.’

  ‘No, I know what I’m saying.’ I stared moodily into the water. I felt tense and wished I knew why.

  The shadows grew long. Alexander didn’t reappear, and even Plexis cast apprehensive glances at the crowd milling on the docks. Paul brought me a piece of flatbread wrapped around strips of spicy fish. We had cool water to drink and a slice of watermelon for dessert. Plexis stayed with me until the sun had nearly set, then he decided to go into the city to search for his friend. However, we had no idea what had happened to Alexander and no idea where to look for him.

  Phaleria would trade until it grew too dark, then she would be occupied putting everything away again. Her crew was busy as well, even with Paul and Yovanix helping as best they could. Yovanix was blind, but knew where everything went, and had memorized each corner of the dragon boat. He manoeuvred about with such ease that when I saw him I was hard put to remember he had no sight.

  Demos saw Plexis leave and came to reassure me. He was a big bear of a man, but kind-hearted. Seeing my unease he put aside his chore and sat next to me for a while. He told me not to fret, but everyone had been saying the same thing to me since Alexander had left. I was still worried. Where was Alexander? Why hadn’t he returned? And where was the glass-merchant? It didn’t make sense. He should have put his wares back out on the dock, but now that the crowd had thinned I could see that there was nothing in front of his boat, and the boat itself looked deserted.

  ‘Demos, I’m going to go see if the glass-merchant is still there.’ I pointed towards the Phoenician’s ship.

  Demos raised his eyebrows, so I explained what had happened when I’d met the slave. Now he looked startled. ‘I saw that man heading into the city right after Iskander,’ he said. ‘And the merchant left soon afterwards.’

  ‘They haven’t come back?’

  ‘No, I didn’t see them.’

  ‘Were they carrying their wares?’ I asked. I had overheard them talking about the salt market, so maybe they had gone there.

  ‘Yes, they were both carrying large bundles.’

  I didn’t question his statement. He was naturally observant, and if he saw them leave then I believed him. I was still apprehensive though. ‘Tell me, Demos, when you saw Iskander for the first time in twelve years, did you have any doubts who he was?’

  ‘No, it was a shock, to be sure, but I had no doubts. Once you’ve seen Iskander you can never forget him. He has a glow that ordinary men do not have. He shines like the sun, and he holds his head a certain way. Even from afar, I recognized him in battle. And there, at the inn, I saw right away it was him.’

  ‘That’s what I was afraid of,’ I said looking towards the city where the bells in the temple of Jupiter, Juno, and Minerva had started to ring. The sun was setting and the tiled rooftops were blood-red.

  ‘I’ll finish here, and then I’ll go to Rome. Perhaps I’ll discover something.’

  ‘Plexis left nearly two hours ago,’ I said, looking at the long shadows. I shivered. ‘I have a terrible feeling about this.’

  Phaleria and Demos packed up their goods, then Demos went with Vix, Titte, and Kell into the city. Erati and Oppi slung wicker baskets over their arms and went to buy food and said they’d check the salt market to see if the glass merchant was there.

  An hour dragged by. Paul sat by my side, alternately telling me not to worry, and fretting about his father.

  Everyone came back with no news at all. They had looked in the taverns, they had asked everyone they’d met, and they’d even gone into the public baths.

  ‘I went to the salt market and saw no sign of the Phoenician,’ said Oppi regretfully. ‘But he may have sold all his goods and gone to an inn for the evening, or to one of the temples to pray.’

  I thanked him for looking, and he waved away my words with his massive hands, then asked Paul if he wanted to go fishing with him. Paul cast a quick glance in my direction then nodded.

  He and Oppi made a strange pair as they set off to fish. Paul looked civilized, and Oppi was a hairy, red-bearded barbarian with tattoos on his hands and arms. He also wore a heavy torque around his neck, had slung a sheepskin over his shoulders in guise of a shirt, and wore a leather kilt. They both carried fishing poles and bait, and Paul was laughing at something Oppi said.

  Phaleria asked Erati to cook dinner, and the others relaxed after their busy day. Phaleria sat next to me and took my hand. ‘Don’t worry, I’m sure he’s all right. He’s fought battles against great odds, crossed the mountains at the end of the earth in wintertime, and survived the terrible Gedrosian desert. There’s nothing like that here!’

  I looked at her and tried to smile. ‘I know, it does seem silly doesn’t it? He’s gone through so much. What could possibly happen to him here?’ Two tears trickled down my cheeks. ‘I’m afraid,’ I admitted. ‘The closer we get to Alexandria, the more frightened I become. He has gone so far and done so much. He’s lost so much. His empire, his family, his soul …’

  ‘We got that back,’ Phaleria reminded me seriously.

  I bit my lip. ‘In my dreams he’s wearing a blindfold and there’s a strange clown standing near him.’

  ‘I don’t understand,’ she said.

  ‘Neither do I,’ I admitted slowly, ‘but I never understood dreams.’

  ‘What’s a “clown”?’

  ‘A clown is a person dressed in bright colours who makes you laugh. Sometimes they’re funny and sometimes they’re sad. I was always afraid of them,’ I said, shaking my head. ‘I wish I knew why I dream about a harlequin clown with Iskander.’

  ‘Perhaps you should ask Vix,’ she told me, nodding her head towards the man dressed in pale grey robes standing by the bow. He was looking up, and his sharp profile seemed etched on the darkening sky. He had long black hair, braided in a single plait that reached his waist. He shaved his beard but wore a long moustache that gave him a mournful air. He was probably looking for a sign in the sky or water that would lead us to Alexander.

  Vix was a Gaul, trained as a druid, and always interpreting the signs around him. A simple bird could mean something depending on what it was doing or what sort it was, and dreams were carefully discussed. For Vix, dreams were messages from worlds that we could only get glimpses of through drug-induced trances or sleep.

  I was doubtful. Even after twelve years in a world where the supernatural was matter-of-course, I still had trouble believing in dreams and oracles. Part of my mind wanted to believe, but I had been born and educated in a land ruled by machines and science. Apollo didn’t have a chance, no matter how many times he spoke to me. I would always believe that the swirling smoke in the tiny rooms was a hallucinogen. I dreamt every night, but that didn’t make the world I entered when I slept any more real, and the supernatural would always be a dream-state for me, a figment of my imagination.

  I held up my hand and stared at it. One of my hands was missing at the wrist; an ivory hand was fastened onto my forearm with leather straps. It was beautifully carved and graceful. The ivory was the same fair colour as my skin, and even the nails had been carefully shaped and tinted with rose. You had to look at it carefully to perceive that it was in fact a fake hand, an illusion. I clenched my fist, but the ivory hand didn’t move. It was a chimera, as were my dreams.

  Opp
i and Paul didn’t take very long to catch dinner. As soon as they each landed two fish, they cleaned and filleted their catch and brought them back for Erati to cook. Oppi tousled Paul’s hair and patted his back, nearly sending him reeling off the boat. ‘A good fisherman, he is!’ he bellowed fondly.

  Paul grinned, winced, and went to the back of the boat to clean his tackle. Then he looked up and gave a shout from his post at the stern. ‘It’s Plexis! He’s come back!’ I leapt to my feet, my heart pounding.

  Plexis didn’t waste words. ‘I didn’t find him.’ His voice was bleak. ‘I’m sorry. I sent a message to the Roman’s villa, and I’ll go there as soon as I eat something. You stay here on the boat.’

  I was shaking so badly I couldn’t answer for a moment. ‘Where could he be?’ I finally managed to whisper. No one answered. We were silent while we ate, even Demos. He sat like a taciturn mountain on the deck, his broad shoulders seeming capable of supporting the weight of the world. I wished he could lessen the weight of my disquiet. Plexis finished his bowl of fish stew and stood, wiping his mouth with his napkin. ‘I’ll be back before midnight,’ he promised, stroking my hair. ‘Don’t fuss any more, try and rest.’ He turned towards Phaleria. ‘Will you stay on board tonight or will you go to the inn?’

  ‘We’ll stay here. I’ll send Titte and Kell to the inn, they might hear something there.’

  Plexis hesitated, then bent down and kissed my mouth. ‘We’ll find him,’ he said, ‘Iskander didn’t disappear into thin air.’ His eyes were kind.

  ‘Aren’t you afraid something has happened to him?’ I questioned.

  ‘What could possibly happen to a battle-scarred soldier in such a civilized city?’ he asked, trying to lift my spirits.

  Suddenly a loud voice soared above the babble. A newscaster trotted up to the docks on a skinny piebald pony, a roll of parchment held at arm’s length in front of his face. Slaves stood in front of him and beat drums, punctuating his words. He was calling out the latest news. A clamour rose into the air, as people heard what the man was crying out. My skin suddenly prickled.