Son of the Moon

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Son of the Moon Page 15

by Jennifer Macaire


  Usse smiled as he bandaged Plexis’s knuckles. He didn’t care for Onesicrite either.

  Alexander built a huge tomb for Coenus, and we sacrificed more cows. There was a week of mourning.

  It was well into November when Roxanne’s son took ill. It was soon after Coenus’s funeral, and Alexander didn’t pay much heed. It must be said that the little boy was sickly. A poor diet when he was small, neglect, and the hot, humid climate all combined to make the baby ill. Usse went to see him regularly, so we weren’t worried. We were worried, though, when we were woken up one morning by banshee wails.

  Roxanne came to our tent – something she’d never done – screeching and tearing at her hair. ‘Your son is dead!’ she screamed at Alexander. He got out of bed and threw a robe over his shoulders. She followed him, sobbing, as he rushed to her tent.

  I ran behind them, calling to Usse to come quickly.

  When I saw the baby, I gave a cry of horror. He had died of asphyxiation. His little face was blue, his tongue stuck straight out. I clapped my hands to my mouth, my nose started bleeding.

  Usse came in and stopped when he saw the babe. His face darkened and he looked from Roxanne to her maids, standing in a row and wailing.

  ‘Where is the babe’s nurse?’ he asked.

  Roxanne pointed to a corner of the tent, and I leaned over to look. A woman’s feet were visible, sticking out from underneath a muslin sheet.

  ‘What happened?’ asked Alexander. His breathing was strained. I saw Usse frown as he looked at him.

  ‘She let the babe die,’ said Roxanne. For someone who had just been wailing and crying, she sounded remarkably cool.

  ‘She’s dead?’ My voice rose to a squeak.

  ‘Well of course! The stupid bitch killed my baby!’ Roxanne stamped her foot. I turned green. I felt physically sick. In a moment I would vomit. I staggered out of the tent and threw up on one of the maid’s monkeys chained to the tent post. He didn’t seem to mind. Plainly, the poor creature hadn’t eaten in days.

  I gagged and rushed to my tent. Behind me, I could hear Roxanne’s cries. ‘Don’t leave me!’ she shouted.

  Plexis saw me coming, but I just grabbed my bathing things and rushed out again. He would have followed me, but there was nobody else in the tent, and I didn’t want to leave Chiron alone.

  ‘Watch the baby!’ I cried, and fled to the bathhouse.

  I took a hot bath, had a good cry, brushed my teeth, washed my hair, and tried to scrub away the memory of that poor little boy, so obviously smothered in his crib.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Alexander told me, after the baby had been buried and the religious rites performed, that he would never touch Roxanne again.

  We were lying in each other’s arms. The sweat on our bodies had dried. I was feeling languorous after a nice round in the sack. I opened one eye to see if he spoke seriously or if it were just a reaction after our lovemaking.

  ‘Too tired?’ I joked.

  ‘No, I mean it. I will never touch her again.’

  ‘Don’t say that,’ I begged. ‘The history books say you had a son by Roxanne, one that lived.’ I nearly said lived longer, but I bit off the word.

  ‘I don’t care.’ His voice was flat. I’d rarely seen him so angry. ‘She said the child was cursed. She said he was deaf.’

  ‘That’s not a curse!’ I said.

  ‘No, but it was a good enough excuse for her.’

  ‘Did she kill her own child?’ I asked, shuddering.

  ‘Usse thinks so, but he says the babe wouldn’t have lived long anyway. He was too frail.’

  ‘And whose fault was that?’ I snarled.

  ‘She’s a witch,’ said Alexander. ‘And I will not go near her again. I’m dividing us into three parts. Plexis will take the cavalry and the elephants and stay on the eastern side of the river, Craterus will take the western side, and Nearchus will navigate in the middle on his boats. I will go with Plexis. You will stay with Nearchus, and Roxanne will be with Craterus. There will be less danger on the river,’ he said, hushing my protests. ‘Porus says that the tribes living to the south are barbaric and most are hostile to my crossing their territories. We may have to fight and I don’t want to have to worry about you and Chiron.’

  I smiled through my tears, kissing him. ‘And I can’t worry about you?’

  ‘Why should you? You know when I’m going to die.’ He said it simply but it was like a knife in my chest. I couldn’t breathe for a moment.

  ‘I will never tell you that,’ I said. ‘Even if you are on your deathbed I will lie and say you’re going to get better. It’s unnatural to know the hour of one’s death. And who knows, after two thousand years, there’s a good chance that the history books are wrong.’ I tried to speak as lightly as he did, but the pain was nearly unbearable. Luckily it was dark, and my face was in shadow.

  He kissed me. ‘Oh, Ashley, don’t be sad. The time we’ve had together has been the most magnificent time in my life. Even if I die tomorrow, I will die happy.’

  ‘Ha,’ I snorted, ‘you say that now. But if I told you that you were going to die tomorrow, believe me, you would not be happy.’

  ‘You don’t know me very well, do you?’ he asked softly. He wrapped his arms around me and rolled over on top of me. ‘I’m Uranus and you’re Gaia, we’re the sky and the earth.’ He moved slightly, just enough for me to feel his intent. With a smile I spread my legs and welcomed him. ‘Now I can die happy,’ he said with a groan.

  ‘I wish you would just die quiet.’ It was Plexis. He lifted his head and stared at us. ‘Can’t a person get any sleep around here?’ He peered closer. ‘Didn’t you just get through doing that?’ he asked.

  Alexander kept moving. ‘If you don’t be quiet I’m going to ask you to go sleep with Roxanne. That way …’ – he broke off and moaned, then continued, ‘… that way I don’t have to bother.’

  I gave a shocked laugh. ‘I will admit the idea seems like a good one. Except, not Plexis,’ I gasped, arching my back.

  ‘Shhh,’ he said.

  I wrapped my arms around Alexander. Urgency grew in my belly. Plexis sighed deeply and drew the curtains closed, but we didn’t notice. All I could feel was Alexander moving steadily within me; all I could hear was my own harsh breathing. The air around us started to tremble. Bright colours danced in my head as I felt my hips rise to meet Alexander’s hard thrusts. There was an instant where everything froze and then, like a house of cards tumbling down, our bodies shattered together. We held each other to keep from being swept away. It would always be like this. We would always need to reassure each other with words, caresses, and with our bodies. Together we were invincible.

  Afterwards Alexander ran his hands down my body, calming my tremors.

  ‘So cool and fine,’ he whispered. ‘I feel as if I’ve quenched my thirst at an enchanted fountain.’

  ‘That’s a sweet thing to say,’ I said, smiling in the darkness.

  ‘You make me feel sweet.’ He took my chin in his hands and kissed me deeply. His mouth was soft, mine was bruised. My head felt too heavy for my neck. I fell asleep before he finished kissing me.

  The forces split into three parts; the navy sailing on the river, and the two others following along on either side. They would try to stay within sight, although because of the terrain, it might not always be possible.

  From the deck of Nearchus’s boat, I could see Alexander’s column on my left, and on my right, Craterus’s half of the army. I could see Alexander’s half better because he had the elephants with him. Their heads were visible above the tall grass and reeds.

  Alexander wanted to go thirty kilometres a day. That meant the scouts had to work hard. They had to make sure that the encampment would be defensible and that there were no hostile tribes massing against us.

  At first, the trip was like a huge holiday river cruise. The tribes near Porus had learned of his defeat and of Alexander’s mighty army, so they came to greet us with gifts and p
romises of allegiance. Alexander was in high spirits, his men were euphoric, and we were heading home.

  Nearchus had more than fifteen hundred boats under his command. The Phoenician and Egyptians had fashioned them from reeds and wood, and some of them were rigged like the boats that navigated the Nile and Indus three thousand years in the future. The sails were linen or cotton, and most were dyed bright colours.

  The boats had oars and rowers, and I had fun teaching them to sing the famous, ‘Row, row, row your boat gently down the stream’. The men sang phonetically, in English. They were positive they were singing the god’s blessings in a sacred language, and I’ll admit to a few theological qualms when I saw the fervour with which the men applied themselves to the song.

  To make up for it, I taught them to sing it as a round, and the river echoed with the music all morning. We were glad Alexander was too far away to be heard, but I think he sang once, because the elephants started to stampede.

  Some boats transported grain and there were boats for the livestock; the army’s food supplies now travelled mainly by water. I slept on the boat. Alexander wouldn’t let Chiron and me go ashore. He was too nervous about enemies. He knew the danger would come from the east, and he was right. Two weeks after we set out, we were attacked during the night.

  The army was always ready for an assault, so everyone knew exactly what to do. I would stay in the boat, huddled with Brazza and Axiom, until the battle ended. If anything happened to Alexander, Nearchus was to set me ashore where Craterus had orders to take me and Chiron directly to Nysa.

  The battle was brief, just a skirmish. The enemy had been testing the army. The next morning Alexander called a meeting, and he decided to strike back. He reasoned that if he did nothing, he’d be harassed all the way down the river. Plus he was mad. One of the elephants had been killed.

  The cavalry and the infantry were gone all day. Nearchus paced on the deck. I was too nervous to pace. The weather was getting cool, the river had shrunk and the banks were high on either side of us. Nearchus didn’t like to be hemmed in, and he always tried to find the largest part of the river so that he could manoeuvre. Downstream was the boat-bridge, which was set up every time we stopped. That way, the whole army could cross from one side of the river to the other in a matter of hours.

  The siege towers were erected as well; there were four, two on each side of the river being used for observation. A small catapult was on top of each tower for breaking into cities with high walls. Very useful. Everyone should have at least one. I decided to climb a tower to see what was going on, but Nearchus, who was at best a stuffy person, said ‘no’, I had to stay on board. Alexander had told him to watch me, and he wasn’t going to let me out of his sight. I smiled sweetly and told him I was going to lie on the deck and sunbathe.

  He didn’t say anything. He was not a talkative fellow, except when he started talking about boats, and then you couldn’t get him to shut up. I propped my chin on my hands and watched him as he moved around the boat. I was waiting for my chance to escape. I’d decided to go climb a lookout tower.

  The day dragged by. Chiron woke from his nap, and I sat him in his bouncy sling-seat in the shade and played pat-a-cake with him. He was easily bored, but pat-a-cake games would keep him entertained for hours if I changed the songs and the rhythms often enough, and if I made enough funny faces at him. He adored funny faces. He would imitate me perfectly, like a little clown. He was starting to crawl. He had started like most babies, getting up on his hands and knees and rocking back and forth until he got the courage to move his hands. Now he would crawl all over the deck if I let him.

  I kept him tied to the mast. He could crawl five feet in any direction, but he couldn’t leave the shade of the awning. I also had the toys Plexis made for him. Alexander wasn’t particularly deft, but Plexis could carve birds and alligators from pieces of wood, and he made them articulated, so that the alligator would seem to walk and wag its tail, and the bird hopped and flapped wings with real feathers in them.

  Chiron pulled the feathers out, but they were made to pop out. I would just poke them back in the holes. Chiron watched me and then tried to do it himself, his little face screwed up in concentration. Other toys included nesting baskets, balls, beads on string, a puppet, a rattle, and a doll made of cloth. The doll had no face, no hair, no arms nor legs, but Chiron clutched it tightly every night when he went to sleep, and if he misplaced it he would wail. Kalanos had made it for him.

  The old man was also on the boat with me. He squatted in the shade next to Chiron and spoke to him seriously in Hindi. I asked him what he was saying, and the holy man said he was telling Chiron all about his own childhood, and that Chiron understood perfectly and would remember everything he said when he was old enough to talk.

  I was doubtful. It didn’t seem to me that he understood anything, but he did love to watch Kalanos’s beard as he talked. It waggled back and forth, and Chiron seemed quite hypnotized.

  When evening came, I found a moment to escape, leaping lightly from boat to boat until I got to the bridge, then I walked across to the shore and climbed up a tower.

  The sentry made room for me by his side, and I gazed out over the plains. There was no sign of the battle. The village was further inland. I soon got bored and turned towards Craterus’s side of the river.

  Roxanne’s court looked like a three-ring circus. The tents were gaudy with bright colours, flags flapped gaily in the breeze. Dogs, parrots, and monkeys were tied to every available post. The women dressed in the robes Alexander had brought back for them from Patna, so they were brilliant in orange, scarlet, and saffron yellow. Roxanne had been sulking since we left Taxiles’s kingdom. The death of her baby might have something to do with her mood, but I doubted it. I was sure she was angry because Alexander had told her, in no uncertain terms, that the marriage was over. He’d asked her to return to her own people, but she’d refused. She still thought she could win him over.

  I could see her walking around her tent. She was leading a white dog by a string, trying to teach it to follow her. I thought she might have better luck if she would stop turning around to kick it each time it pulled backwards.

  Her face was frozen in its usual thin scowl. She had recently adopted the Persian-style dress, but she slit the long skirt up to the thigh and tied it with a wide sash at the waist. She hadn’t yet taken to covering her breasts. She must have sensed my thoughts or felt my gaze, because she raised her head and spotted me. She had an uncanny stare. Her eyes were very pale, like green glass. She saw me in the tower and frowned. Perhaps she thought I was spying on her. I gave her a friendly wave. She turned to glance behind her, she thought I was waving to someone else. I let my hand fall and my face grew still. She stiffened when she realized I’d been waving at her. For a minute she didn’t move. Then she straightened her shoulders and stared at me. She didn’t make a gesture. Her look was a mute challenge filled with hatred – she’d seen my pity.

  I climbed down the tower, my heart strangely heavy. I shouldn’t have worried about her. She had been receiving mail from our mutual mother-in-law. Olympias wrote to her nearly every month. Alexander knew, of course. Perhaps he even read the letters. I don’t know for sure. The two women had a busy correspondence: two witches giving each other advice on oracles and potions, and what to do to get rid of a rival.

  Chapter Twenty

  Alexander came back late that evening after subduing the enemy. The army rested for four days as we took care of the wounded, buried the dead, and made the appropriate sacrifices to the various divinities the soldiers worshipped.

  Between the six or seven main pantheon of gods that the Egyptians, the Greeks, the Phoenicians, the Bactrians, the Sogdians, the Barbarians, and the Indians adored, we had quite a list to choose from. The priests were, on the whole, a nice group. They were willing to honour everyone else’s beliefs just as long as their gods were honoured too. The gods were easy to please. They seemed to like being sung to, having thi
ngs burned in their honour, and having altars built with their names carved all over them.

  During the Greek ceremonies, I had a role to play as Demeter’s daughter. The busiest time of year for me was midwinter, when I was supposed to bless the fields and ready them for the sowing. The funeral ceremonies were also for Hades – and for Hermes. Hermes, the gods’ messenger, was in charge of leading the new souls towards the kingdom of the dead where Hades ruled.

  Brave warriors were supposed to go to a beautiful field where they would spend eternity. I, Queen of the Dead, spent my time – supposedly – in a barren garden, treeless except for one, a pomegranate tree. Everything in the garden was frozen and glittery with precious jewels instead of flowers. That explained my white hair and frosty blue eyes. I had long ago stopped trying to convince people I was human. They didn’t want to hear it. Making a job out of it made me feel better about impersonating a goddess. Part of my job was overseeing religious ceremonies. I put a lot of effort into memorising my lines and not giggling at critical moments. I also learned everything I could about my alter ego.

  Persephone was Demeter’s daughter, a young girl who loved walking in the fields and picking wild flowers. One day, while her mother was napping, she wandered away, and Hades, god of the dead, saw her and fell madly in love. He got into his chariot pulled by six black horses and burst out of the ground, snatching the unfortunate girl by the waist. He turned around and plunged underground and the earth closed behind him. No one saw but a swineherd, who was shocked to see all his pigs disappear down a deep crevice.

  Demeter woke up and called for her daughter, but she was nowhere to be found. Frantic with worry, Demeter rushed about, looking everywhere. She asked the sun, but the clouds had covered him that day. She asked the wind, but he had been elsewhere. All the other gods joined the search, but nobody could find Persephone. She had vanished from the face of the earth. Nobody thought for one second to look underground in the cold, barren kingdom of Hades.

 

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