The cooks set to their work – mixing, blending, baking – to create a series of delicacies for their Queen’s new son.
The following morning and even the morning after that, the first thing Alexander saw outside his tent was a squadron of Carian cavalry delivering warm bread, fresh biscuits, and delicately filled cakes.
It was beginning to be rather embarrassing and both Alexander’s companions and his soldiers started making jokes about it. He decided therefore to solve the problem at the source, even though with considerable regret. On the third day, when they were now near Halicarnassus, he sent the men and the food back to Alinda without having touched it at all, together with a letter he had written in his own hand:
Alexander to Ada, his most beloved mother, Hail!
I am sincerely grateful to you for the good things you send me every morning, but I regret I must beg you to suspend these consignments. I am not used to such rich food, but rather to a simple, rustic diet. And above all else I do not wish to enjoy privileges that my soldiers are denied. They must know that their king eats the same food and runs the same risks as they do.
Take good care.
From then on Ada’s oppressive attentions ceased altogether and military operations began again at full pace. On leaving Mylasa, Alexander moved southwards and reached the coast once again, but here it was dotted with an infinity of small and large inlets, peninsulas and promontories. Along certain tracts the soldiers marched on in tandem with the fleet, which made the most of the deep waters near the coast, and at moments they were so close they could communicate by shouting across.
On the third day after Mylasa, just when the army was about to set up camp on the shore, a man approached the sentries and asked to be taken to the King. Alexander was sitting on a rock on the beach, together with Hephaestion and his companions.
‘What do you want of us?’ asked the King.
‘My name is Euphranor and I come from Myndus. My fellow citizens have sent me to tell you that the city is ready to welcome you and that your fleet may moor safely in our harbour, a sheltered and well-defended port.’
‘Luck is on our side,’ said Ptolemy. ‘A good port is exactly what we need to unload the ships and assemble the siege engines.’
Alexander turned towards Perdiccas. ‘Go with your men to Myndus and prepare moorings for our fleet. Then send someone to report to me and I will inform our navarchs.’
‘But Sire,’ objected the messenger, ‘the city hoped to see you in person, to prepare a welcome worthy of . . .’
‘Not now, my good friend; now I must lead my army as close as possible to the walls of Halicarnassus and I want to oversee the operations myself. For the moment please thank your fellow citizens for the great honour they have bestowed upon me.’
The man took his leave and Alexander continued with his war council.
‘I think you made a mistake in sending back all that food to Queen Ada,’ laughed Lysimachus. ‘It would have been very useful in facing up to this latest escapade.’
‘That’s enough,’ said Ptolemy to shut him up. ‘If I have understood what Alexander is thinking of doing then you soon won’t have anything to joke about at all.’
‘I think so too,’ confirmed Alexander. He unsheathed his sword and began drawing in the sand. ‘Now then – this is Halicarnassus. It spreads out around this gulf and has two fortresses – one to the right and one to the left of the harbour. From the sea, therefore, it is completely impregnable. Not only this, by sea they have a continuous supply line which means that we cannot lay siege to the city, we cannot effect a blockade.’
‘Indeed not,’ Ptolemy agreed.
‘What would you suggest, General Parmenion?’ Alexander asked.
‘Given the situation we have no choice – our only possibility is to attack from the landward side, open up a breach and break into the city until we take the harbour. At that point the Persian fleet will have been ousted completely from the Aegean sea.’
‘Exactly. This is precisely what we must do. Perdiccas, tomorrow you will go to Myndus and take possession. Then have the fleet moor in the harbour, unload the war machines, assemble them and have them move towards Halicarnassus from the west. We will be there waiting for you, having prepared the way for positioning the assault towers and the battering-rams.’
‘That’s fine,’ said Perdiccas with a nod. ‘If you have no other orders I will go to brief my men.’
‘On you go, but come back to see me before you retire tonight. As for the rest of you,’ he said as he turned towards his other companions, ‘each one will be assigned his own position when we are within sight of the walls, that is tomorrow evening. Now go to your divisions and after supper, if possible, go to sleep early because these next few will be trying days.’
The council was brought to an end and Alexander took a walk, alone, along the shore, watching the sun as it descended, setting fire to the waves while the many islands offshore, large and small, slowly darkened.
At that hour of the evening, with the prospect of such a difficult ordeal before him, he felt a sharp sense of melancholy penetrate his soul and he recalled his childhood years when it was all a dream and a story and his future appeared before him as a long ride astride a winged charger.
He thought of his sister, Cleopatra, who perhaps was alone now in the palace at Buthrotum, on the cliffs above the sea. He thought of the promise he had made to think of her every day before nightfall and he hoped that she might feel his thoughts now, that the warm breeze might stroke her cheeks like a gentle kiss. Cleopatra . . .
When he returned to his tent, Leptine had already lit the lamps and was preparing his supper.
‘I didn’t know whether you had guests for supper, so I have set the table for you alone.’
‘That’s fine. I really don’t feel like eating.’
He sat down and his meal was served. Peritas stretched out under the table to wait for the leftovers. Outside, the camp buzzed with the noise that accompanied every supper time and came before the quiet of the night and the silence of the first watch.
Eumenes came in with some sheets of papyrus in his hand.
‘A message has arrived,’ he said as he handed it to Alexander. ‘It is from your sister, Queen Cleopatra of Epirus.’
‘That’s strange. Just now, as I was walking on the shore, I was thinking of her.’
‘Do you miss her?’ asked Eumenes.
‘Very much. I miss her smile, the light of her eyes, the timbre of her voice, the warmth of her affection.’
‘Perdiccas misses her even more – he would give an arm just to be able to embrace her with the other one. I’ll leave you now.’
‘No, stay. Have some wine.’
Eumenes poured himself some wine and sat on a stool while Alexander opened the letter and began to read:
Cleopatra to her most beloved Alexander, Hail!
I cannot begin to imagine where this missive will reach you – on a battlefield, during a moment of rest, or while you are besieging a fortress. I beg you, my dear brother, please take no unnecessary risks.
We have all heard word of your feats and we are proud of you. Indeed, my husband is almost jealous. He is impatient, he cannot wait to set off to find equal glory. On the contrary, I would rather he did not leave at all because I am afraid of solitude and because it is fine to have him near me here in this palace above the sea. At sunset we walk up to the highest tower to watch the sun descend to the waves until darkness obscures everything, until the evening star rises up into the sky.
I would so like to write poetry, but when I read the edition of Sappho that mother gave me as a keepsake and encouragement for my new life, I feel that I am too ambitious.
However, I sing and I make music. Alexander has given me a handmaiden who plays the flute and the lyre wonderfully and she is teaching me with great patience and dedication. Every day I make sacrifices to the gods and ask them to protect you.
When will I see you again? Keep your s
pirits up.
Alexander closed the letter and lowered his head.
‘Bad news?’ asked Eumenes.
‘Oh no. It’s just that my sister is like one of those little birds that is taken from the nest too early – sometimes she remembers that she is still a young girl and she misses the home and the parents she no longer has.’
Peritas whined and came nearer his master, rubbing his head against a leg, looking for a caress.
‘Perdiccas has already left,’ the secretary started again. ‘Tomorrow he will be at Myndus and will take possession of the harbour for our fleet. All the other companions are with their divisions, except for Leonnatus who has taken a couple of girls to bed. Callisthenes is in his tent busy writing, but he is not the only one.’
‘No?’
‘No. Ptolemy keeps a diary too, a sort of memoir. And I’ve heard tale that Nearchus writes too. I don’t know how he manages on that boat – it never stops bobbing up and down in the water. I myself was sick twice when we crossed the Straits.’
‘He must be used to it.’
‘Indeed. And Callisthenes? Has he let you read anything?’
‘No, nothing at all. He is very protective of his work. He says I will be allowed to look at it when he has finished the final draft, and not before.’
‘That means years.’
‘I’m afraid so.’
‘It will be no joke, you realize that.’
‘What?’
‘Taking Halicarnassus.’
Alexander nodded and scratched Peritas behind the ears, ruffling his coat.
‘No, I am afraid it won’t be.’
23
PERITAS’S GROWLING WOKE Alexander suddenly and the King soon understood what had alarmed his dog – the drumming gallop of a patrol of horsemen followed by an agitated exchange of information among the men outside his tent. He threw a chlamys over his shoulders and ran outside. It was still dark and the moon was only just above the silhouette of the hills in a dark, milky sky, veiled by low clouds.
One of the men from the patrol approached him and said, breathless, ‘Sire! It was an ambush . . . a trap!’
‘What do you mean?’ asked Alexander, grabbing him by the shoulders.
‘It was a trap, Sire. As we approached the gates of Myndus, we were attacked from all directions – arrows and javelins rained down on us like hail from the sky, squadrons of light cavalry swooped on us from the hills, striking quickly and retreating while others arrived immediately afterwards. We defended ourselves, Sire, we couldn’t have put any more into it. If the fleet had entered that harbour, they would have wiped it out completely – there were catapults with fire-bombs everywhere.’
Where is Perdiccas?’
‘He is still down there. He managed to take a sheltered area and gather his men. He needs soon as possible.’
Alexander let the man go, but as he pulled his hands away he saw that they were red with blood: ‘This man is wounded! Quickly, call a surgeon!’
Philip the physician, whose tent was not far off, came immediately with his assistant and led the soldier away to take care of him.
‘Inform all your colleagues of the situation,’ the King said to him. ‘Have them prepare tables, warm water, bandages, vinegar . . . all the necessary equipment.’
In the meantime Hephaestion, Eumenes, Ptolemy, Craterus, Cleitus and Lysimachus had all arrived, all of them dressed and armed.
‘Craterus!’ cried the King as soon as he saw him.
‘Sire!’
‘Have two squadrons of cavalry assemble immediately and take them to Perdiccas – he is in trouble. Do not engage the enemy. Collect the dead and the wounded and come back.’
Then he turned. ‘Ptolemy!’
‘Sire!’
‘Take a patrol of scouts and a group of light cavalry – Thracians and Triballians. Go along the coast and look for a mooring of whatever kind to unload the engines. As soon as you find one, signal to the fleet, have them moor as quickly as possible and help them unload.’
‘Right away, Sire!’
‘Black!’
‘Sire!’
‘Have all of our light catapults towed to the entrance of the harbour at Myndus – no one must enter and no one must leave, not even the city’s fishermen. If you find a good site, let fly with as many incendiary missiles as you can. Burn the city down if possible, right to the very last house.’
Alexander was furious and his rage was growing.
‘Memnon,’ he growled.
‘What did you say?’ asked Eumenes.
‘Memnon. This is Memnon’s doing. He is paying me back, blow for blow. I cut the Persian fleet off from the coast and he is doing the same to me, preventing my ships from mooring. It’s him, I am sure of it. Hephaestion!’
‘At your service, Sire!’
‘Take the Thessalian cavalry out, together with a squadron of Companions, ride towards Halicarnassus and choose a suitable place for a camp on the eastern or northern side of the walls. Then find a site for the siege engines and have the labourers come to flatten and prepare it. Quickly!’
They were all awake by now – cavalry units were riding past in every direction, orders were being shouted everywhere, together with cries and shouts and the neighing of horses.
General Parmenion arrived, in full armour and weaponry and followed by two attendants.
‘At your service, Sire!’
‘We have been tricked, General. Perdiccas has fallen into a trap at Myndus and we still have no news of the outcome of it all.
‘But I do know what we will do now. Give orders for the men to have breakfast and then have the infantry and the cavalry lined up ready to march. At sunrise I want them already on their way. We are going to attack Halicarnassus!’
Parmenion nodded and turned to his attendants, ‘You heard the King, didn’t you? Get moving then!’
‘General . . .’
‘Is there anything else, Sire?’
‘Send Philotas to Myndus with a group of horsemen – I need to know as soon as possible what is happening there.’
‘Here he is now,’ replied Parmenion, pointing to his son running towards them. ‘I’ll have him set off immediately.’
Hephaestion, in the meantime, was setting off from the camp with his squadrons, raising up an enormous cloud of dust, galloping off towards Halicarnassus.
They came within sight of the city at dawn and saw that the area under the walls was completely deserted. Hephaestion looked around and then spurred his steed onwards to take by surprise an open space that appeared suitable for their camp.
But the terrain between them and Halicarnassus was gently rolling countryside and it was difficult to see exactly what lay near the walls, so prudence demanded that they move forward at nothing more than a walk.
Everything seemed calm in the silence of sunrise, but suddenly Hephaestion heard a strange noise, sharp and rhythmical, like metal objects striking rock or soil. He continued up to the top of a low hill and was amazed at the spectacle that lay before him.
There was a huge trench down there, perhaps thirty-five feet wide and eighteen feet deep. Hundreds of men were busy working on it, carrying out the soil and broken rock and piling it up to form an equally enormous dyke.
‘Damn!’ exclaimed Hephaestion. ‘We waited too long. You!’ he shouted to one of his men, ‘Turn back immediately and tell Alexander.’
‘Of course,’ replied the horseman as he turned and sped off back towards the camp. But at that precise moment one of the gates of Halicarnassus opened and a cavalry squadron came out at a gallop along the only passable route left between the trench and the walls.
‘They’re coming at us!’ shouted the Thessalian commander. ‘Over there . . . on that flank!’
Hephaestion ordered his division to make an about turn and then he rushed at the enemy as they spread out in file along the narrow passage in order to reach open ground as quickly as possible.
He arranged his men along a front
line some two hundred feet long, four horses deep and directed the attack towards the head of the enemy column which was now beginning to gallop along the dyke to take up position in a sufficiently long line to bear the brunt of the imminent clash. Indeed, they met so close to the wall that the Persians had no time to build up speed and Hephaestion managed to drive them back.
The workers who had been down at the bottom of the ditch were terrified by the noise of the battle and abandoned their tools, climbing up the bank on the side nearest the city as quickly as possible and running for the gates. But the defenders of Halicarnassus had already closed all the entrances to the city.
A group of Thessalians took the passageway between the trench and the walls and began attacking the labourers with a thick rain of javelins until they had all been wiped out. But before long another division of cavalry appeared from a side gate in the walls and attacked the Thessalians laterally, forcing them to gather together and respond.
The skirmishes continued with attacks and counterattacks, but Hephaestion finally got the upper hand by deploying the hetairoi, the Companions, still fresh, in front of the now exhausted Thessalians. He then chased what was left of the enemy right back to the gates, which this time were opened to let them in.
The Macedonian commander dared not follow them through the huge doors between the two massive bulwarks crawling with archers and javelin throwers. He decided it was enough to have taken the ground beneath the walls and he had his men start on digging another trench on the side of the passage while they waited for the labourers to come. Some horsemen instead were sent to scout for springs that might provide water for men and horses when the rest of the army arrived.
Suddenly one of the hetairoi pointed to something up on the walls: ‘Look, Commander,’ he said, indicating the highest tower. Hephaestion turned and moved closer to get a better view. He saw a soldier up there, encased in a shining iron breastplate, his face completely hidden by a Corinthian sallet helmet. He held a long, straight spear in his hand.
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