by David Alkek
Accompanied by bawdy comments of appreciation, a beautiful, white-skinned girl of about sixteen, with long braided hair was brought in and placed next to Philip. "Here is a Gallic beauty. Look at those green eyes and red hair. She was to warm my bed tonight, but I will award her to the man who is last standing." Everyone cheered.
The men laughed and yelled louder, cheering on their favorites. Wine sloshed down their faces as they lifted unsteady hands to numb lips. One by one, with wine dripping from their chins, the generals fell down sick or unconscious, until only Philip remained. The entire hall cheered their king, as he grabbed his trophy and stumbled from the hall.
* * *
After Philip consolidated his power in the northern provinces, he turned his attention to politics in the south. Athens was absorbed in the Social War that ended her second empire. He took advantage of the situation and seized the cities of Amphipolis, Pydna, and Potidea that were on the northern Aegean, and possessions of Athens. Athens sent a message to Philip. He read the letter presented to him by a messenger protesting his seizure of their cities and the selling of the captives into slavery.
He smiled, then replied, "Athens was indeed powerful and could back up its protests with swords and spears. That day has passed and now she is hard pressed by her former allies. Those allies she abused when she had the power. Now they will wear her down and impose an embarrassing peace.
"For my part, I admire the culture of Athens, home of Pericles, Euripides, and Plato. I do not want to destroy Athens, but I must have the cities to protect my frontier on the northern Aegean.
"Take this message back to Athens. ‘City of Athena and birthplace of Greek art and literature, I hold your culture in the highest esteem. However, I will not return to Athens any of the cities I have obtained.’ ”
He rose, and stated forcefully, "That is all; you may return to your beloved Athens."
A few months later, he led a campaign to capture Methone. The city would not give open battle, but defended itself stubbornly behind its walls. Philip had a meeting with his commanders after an unsuccessful day of attacking the city.
One of his generals spoke up, "Methone must have warehouses of food. They have withstood our siege for a month and laugh at us from their walls."
Philip replied as he raised a cup of wine, "They won't laugh for long. The new siege engines I had designed arrived today. We'll batter down their gates tomorrow."
The next day, the engines made slow progress against the determined defenders. Each time they advanced to the gates, they were forced back by volleys of arrows and stones. Philip's patience was as exhausted as his men. "Bring all the archers," he commanded. "We will place them to the sides of the engines to keep the defenders from the walls. I will lead them."
"But Sire, "one of his generals protested.
"I said, I will lead them. I am the king." He slammed his sword against a shield. No one gave further comment.
The attack was successful, but a stone hurled from the wall found its way to Philip's eye, blinding it. He wrapped a rag around his bleeding wound and with increased determination led his army into the defeated town. The slaughter would have lasted all day if he had not stopped it.
Philip decided to make an example of Methone. He had the walls of the city torn down and sold all of its citizens into slavery. Other cities took note of his successful siege engines, and the lesson of opposing him.
* * *
After the Sacred War in which Philip helped Phocia and the Amphictyonic League defeat Sparta and Athens, he was given the honor of presiding over the Greeks at the Pythian games. While at these games he used his considerable diplomatic personality to win many of the city-states into an alliance. It was his goal to create a Greek Confederacy, under his leadership.
It was not long after he returned to Pella and a period of peace, that Philip started to develop an interest in his son, Alexander, a wild lad of thirteen. Alexander was an ideal youth, physically athletic, good in sports and hunting, and fair of complexion. A handsome, some would say even pretty, young man, he had golden brown hair in massive curls that picked up the sun's highlights like a halo. Bluish-green eyes burned with intensity in a clear face that Alexander would keep clean shaven. That would become the style of all Greeks later.
One-day Philip watched with Alexander at his side as his men brought in horses from the Thracian plains to train for his cavalry. Philonicus, a Thessalian, brought in a huge prideful black, that Philip had paid a huge price for, that tossed his long mane over a strong neck. His muscles rippled as he reared high, forcing the men to back away from the flying hooves. One after another of Philip's best trainers tried to calm and mount the spirited stallion. All had failed, some even suffering bites and kicks from the rebel horse.
Philip laughed, "He's a true warrior, a real match for his Macedonian captors. He will make someone a fitting companion in battle, if anyone can ever tame him."
"Let me try, Father."
Philip looked with amused surprise at his son, "What did you say, Alexander?" He was thirteen, not old enough to grow a beard or go to battle. What could this boy do that his best horse trainers could not?
"I said, let me try to tame the black stallion. I know that I can. I have tamed other horses. I have a talent; they like me."
"I don't know, Alexander; you might get hurt. I don’t want anything to happen to the future king of Macedon.” Philip reconsidered that this might be good experience for the young prince. “All right. Philonicus, hold the reins for Alexander. He will try to ride the stallion."
"Before I try, Father, would you give me a promise?"
"And what is it?"
"Will you give me this horse if I tame him?"
Philip smiled and clapped Alexander on the back. "Spoken like a prince, making a bargain with a king. And what will you give if you fail?”
“If I fail, I will pay the price of the horse.”
His father laughed, “All right. You have a bargain.”
Alexander was no fool. Even then, his keen observation served him well, for he would not attempt a dangerous feat without assessing his chances for success. He had noticed that the spirited stallion reared and fought the handlers when his back was to the sun. The horse was afraid of its shadow that danced on the ground in front of him.
Alexander went into the corral and took the reins. The stallion started and shook his head, his eyes staring wildly at the beardless youth. He seemed to say, how dare you test your puny body against me. I will show you. He reared his forelegs and whinnied.
Alexander took the bridle and turned the horse around until it faced the sun, then holding the reins tightly, he raised his hand to pat the huge neck. The horse settled down and allowed the boy to stroke him. Alexander's hand advanced to the long jaw and snout of the steed, all the while gently whispering to him. He walked him slowly forward, being careful to keep his face in the sun, while continuing to murmur and stroking him. When he was sure that he had calmed the mighty stallion, he stopped, said something to him, and reached into his short tunic. He pulled out an apple and gave it to the black giant, which took it greedily.
The horse stopped and pawed the ground, obviously nervous and eager to run. Alexander gently released his outer garment and let it slide to the ground. Then in a sudden leap he mounted the steed. The stallion snorted and looked around at this diminutive creature on his back. Alexander saw that he was allowed to settle himself and drew in the reins, all the while speaking quietly to his mount. When he realized that the giant between his legs had accepted him and was anxious to go, Alexander gave him his rein. He allowed him to run at full gallop, urging him with a commanding voice and a firm kick in the side.
Alexander held this reins back, keeping his head up so that he could not see his shadow, allowing the horse to run faster and faster around the corral. He was laughing, his golden curls bouncing around his head.
The king and all of the other men were laughing and clapping and yelling the name of Ale
xander. It was a sight to behold, the giant black stallion accepting the calming and commanding hand of the handsome boy on his back.
When Alexander dismounted, he brought the horse to his father. "Is he mine, then?"
"He is yours. You deserve him, a princely horse for a prince."
"I will name him Bucephalus. He will carry me to many battles and conquests."
"My son, Macedon is too small for you. Seek out a larger empire, worthier of you." Philip could already see a bright future for this boy.
* * *
Philip turned to Antipater, his most trusted adviser, and admitted, "Alexander is approaching manhood." He was proud of how his son had tamed Bucephalus.
"Indeed, Sire, he shows intelligence as well as physical bravery. He has a presence that men admire in a young man."
"That's why I have to start grooming him for the inheritance I plan for him, for he will be king one day."
"He is already going on hunts and training in the soldiers' exercise yard. He may be ready soon to be sent as a squire in battle," said Antipater.
"I don't mean only his military skills. I could do that, and have already engaged an officer to oversee it. No, I have thoughts of his personal development. It's time that he be removed from his mother's hands and influence. I will replace the tutors that Olympias has arranged."
"The queen will not look kindly on your taking her son from her."
“I don't care what she thinks. She has too much control over him and he needs to become a man. I have composed a letter, requesting a new tutor from Athens."
"From Athens, Sire?"
"Yes, I want him to be educated and accepted beyond Macedon is a cultured Greek. I want him to have every educational advantage that I didn't have."
"Who are you engaging as his tutor?"
"I am asking Aristotle, the best student of famed Plato. He is a brilliant philosopher, who has knowledge of many subjects. I want him to train Alexander's mind, as my officers will train his body. Most of all, I want him to help my son prepare for the legacy that I am designing for him."
Later, Philip talked with Alexander and told him that it had invited a new tutor for him.
"But why, Father? I like my tutors."
"The new tutor is Aristotle of Athens. He is renowned for his brilliant mind. He will help you learn many things. Things that will help you become a wise king someday."
"What will mother say? I don't want to leave her."
"Alexander, my son, you will be fourteen soon, and it is proper that you should leave the women's quarters and be trained with the other noble youths. Your half-brothers will also join you under Aristotle's tutelage.
"I'm not doing this for myself, or to spite your mother. I want you to have the education that I did not. I want you to be taught by a philosopher, so that you may not do a great many things of the sort that I am sorry to have done."
"All right, Father. I will do as you say. I want to be a king like you." Alexander obeyed, but in his heart he told himself that he would be freed from his overbearing father someday, and would be a strong king in his own right.
* * *
Yes, Philip was proud of his accomplishments. He had used diplomacy and negotiations as well as military action to increase his power and his influence with the rest of Greece. He knew that selling the captives from his campaign into slavery did not endear him to other Greeks, but that was better than slaughter. Besides, the money from these slaves and from the gold mines of Thrace, was more than ten times the value of the silver that Athens drew from her mines at Laurium.
He was not ashamed to use whatever devices he could manage in his diplomacy to further his plans. He broke promises and treaties if it was to his advantage. In his reasoning, if cities or territory or allies could be won with double dealing, then that was cheaper and better than shedding blood. For him, there were no morals in government, and he considered lies and bribes as a humane substitute for slaughter. He was generous in victory, however. Some said he was too generous, but he realized that with mercy he could turn a foe into a friend. He never slaughtered captives, and gave better terms to Greeks that he defeated than they gave to each other. He knew that with lenient terms he could turn an enemy into an ally. His goal was to unite Greeks behind him as their leader, not as alliance opposing him.
Philip poured himself another cup of wine and congratulated himself again. Aristotle would help him train Alexander to be his heir, who would help him conquer Persia.
Chapter 15
When Philip was still a young king, he visited the island of Samothrace, where he sought an alliance with their king. After a banquet in his honor, he met a striking woman.
Her dark eyes flashed in a cream-colored face framed by auburn red hair that hung in braids to her waist. Scarlet ribbons were woven into her tresses and wound around her black dress outlining her full breasts. Around her narrow waist coiled a cleverly designed gold snake, the head serving as a clasp on its tail.
Philip couldn't take his eyes from her. She was in animated conversation with two other men, occasionally throwing her head back in laughter at some clever remark. "Who is she?" Philip asked one of the nobles of the island.
"Her name is Olympias. She is from Mollosia where her brother is king of Epirus. He became king, rather young, after his father and mother died."
"Is she married, then?" Philip asked.
"No. She is here with some of her women friends. I am told that she came to attend the Dionysian rites."
"Introduce me to her."
"Philip of Macedon," she said after the introduction. "I have heard what a brave warrior you are. Perhaps you will tell me of your conquests some time. Have you enjoyed your time on Samothrace?"
She beckoned a slave passing with a tray of wine-filled cups. Philip gave one to her and took a fresh cup for himself. Her eyes flashed and she smiled as her hand grazed his. Philip felt a flush that prickled the roots of his hair and beard. He couldn't think clearly; his words stuck in his throat. "I...., went hunting with the king. He showed me some of his warships."
"Interesting," she smiled. "I'm sure the ships made for brilliant conversation. Was the hunting at least exciting?"
"We hunted wild sheep. There are no lions or large animals on this island."
"Too bad. Would you like to experience something really exciting? I'm going to attend a religious ritual tomorrow night. Would you like to come with me?"
"What kind of ritual?"
"It is a celebration of Dionysus. It will be a rite of initiation into their worshipers."
"I don't know, Olympias. I am not a religious person. I am familiar Dionysus, and I have heard of his mysterious cult. I enjoy drinking the wine that his divinity blesses."
"Oh come on, Philip. You will have the excitement of a new experience. I hear you enjoy the exhilaration of battle. There is nothing to be afraid of. Besides, I will be there to protect you." She laughed.
He laughed with her. "It will be my pleasure to go with you to the rites." He raised his goblet. "To Dionysus." They both drained their cups.
The next night before the ceremony, the initiates were given lighted torches in the courtyard of the Temple of Dionysus. They then marched silently single file, a flickering snake of flames, into the surrounding hills. They came to a clearing surrounded by trees, and led through about a hundred members of the cult, who were scantily clad in short linen clothes, that revealed the men's chests and part of the women's breasts. Grapevines were twisted in their hair and around their bodies.
The newcomers were placed before a large on fire, in front of which stood a stone altar, containing a bound lamb. Their torches were taken and tossed into the flames.
Standing behind the altar were three figures. A man in the center wore only a short skirt of animal fur. His hair was tousled and entwined with vines and leaves. Around his neck hung a gold cup on a chain. The women, who flanked him, wore loose, white linen dresses, which floated freely, allowing enticing peeks at curves and
shadows through the sheer fabric. Their wild hair was also braided with vines.
Music from hidden flutes and drums filled the compound, and the two women began to dance away from the man. They pranced and twirled around the fire and the initiates, stepping and jumping, flailing arms and twisting their heads. They passed cups of wine, spiced with herbs among the initiates, and continued to dance as the music became louder and faster.
The dancers came back from a basket at the edge of the clearing with snakes in their hands. They continued with the rhythm, now with the snakes coiling around their arms, and necks and bodies. They pranced and gyrated as if one with the snakes, their dresses clinging to their glistening skin that reflected the mesmerizing flames.
More cups were passed among the group. Philip began to feel a lightheadedness that was unlike the wine intoxication he was familiar with. In the back of his mind he thought that there must be some drug in the wine. He didn't care; he was hypnotized by the rituals, and the woman beside him. The women stopped dancing and took their places at the sides of the man.
At that point, the half-naked priest approached the altar. He raised a sharp knife that seemed to be aflame from reflection. After chanting a prayer to the God Dionysus, he slit the animal's throat. Bright red blood splashed onto his arms and chest. He caught some of the blood in the cup that he had removed from his neck.
He turned and faced the initiates. After another incantation, he went along their line, pouring the blood onto their heads. The priestesses followed him with the spiced wine. The initiates were encouraged to drink deeply as blood trickled down their necks and bodies.
Olympias started to gyrate with the music, her head moving in a circle, as her arms waved in the air. The two women yelled out the god's name. The group all echoed it. Olympias jumped toward the fire, whirling to the music. The rest of the group followed, dancing around the fire.