Philip and Olympias: A Novel of Ancient Macedon

by Peter Messmore

  During the ride back to Pella, Philip told his generals that he was ready to begin the march eastward into Thrace. After the death of Thrace's longtime king, Cotys, his sons had divided the kingdom into three regions. The greedy offspring were now busy fighting each other for control of the backward nation. Clearly, now was the time for Macedon to assault another of her ancient tormentors. The king told his generals that he was changing strategies. They would now bypass Amphipolis and move directly to Crenides, a small mining town east of the Thracian stronghold. It was there that settlers from the island of Thasos had established a pro-Macedonian colony.

  "After Crenides is pacified," he dictated, "the siege of Amphipolis will begin. In secret negotiations, I've proposed to Athens that if they allow me to take Amphipolis, I'll return the defeated city to them in return for our southern seaport, Pydna. They were eager to accept the offer. It will cost them nothing. They already occupy Pydna. No treaty will be signed. As before, they want everything kept secret. They're occupied with problems in southern Greece and can't extend themselves in the Northern Aegean."

  "Again," Parmenio said, "your timing is infallible, Philip. I'll not ask you if you intend to honor the agreement after Amphipolis falls," he said with a grin.

  "I'll face that problem later. Our only concern now is the capture of Crenides and the besieging of Amphipolis. Tell your commanders that we leave Pella in three days. It will be the first real test of our army and tactics against adversaries other than tribal barbarians."

  They entered Pella in darkness. Philip was filled with foreboding about the coming campaign. What if Athens didn't honor its commitment? What if they answered the call of Olynthus to ally themselves with other Thracian powers to defeat the invading Macedonians? For it was not just Amphipolis and Crenides that Philip craved. Between the Thracian capital and inconsequential Crenides lay an expansive mountain that was essential to his plans. The target of his high-risk gamble was a mountain of the priceless silver and gold, Mount Pangaeus. Having a strong army, being a brilliant tactician, and engaging in astute political machinations were one thing. But silver and gold were essential for him to sustain all plans.

  Mount Pangaeus had been mined for centuries, but the techniques had always been on a small, one-man, one-pick scale. The Athenian engineers that Parmenio had just employed as sapper mercenaries told Philip of improved Athenian mining techniques that could greatly increase the yield of any mine—even an old one. He would have this mountain and its poorly mined veins of silver and gold for Macedon, no matter what the cost.

  Danger was again a companion of the king. But danger also meant opportunity, and no one would ever say that he ever shirked from an opportunity.

  As Philip's main army moved into Thrace and began its northern bypass of the stronghold at Amphipolis, the king didn't accompany them. Where the river Echedorus emptied into the northern Thermaic Gulf, he left his army and embarked on a secret mission. Arrangements had been made for him to take his first sea voyage. An aging trireme, one of only three in the nearly nonexistent Macedonian navy, awaited him. The creaky old ship was his conveyance to a port that only the king and the ship's captain knew.

  Philip was fearful of the sea voyage for days. To a land general, to a king of a country that rarely engaged in sea exports, the idea of men traversing the boundless seas seemed an affront to the gods. The king suffered terrifying nightmares the night before the voyage, and it was clear to his officers that his usual jovial, even arrogant demeanor had changed. Philip thought that he had successfully hidden his sea-phobia, but his commanders knew the source of his anxiety.

  The purpose of the voyage was to travel to the island of Thasos. Macedonian settlers had established several mining communities there. Through secret contacts, the leaders of Thasos had informed King Philip that they wanted to expand their mining activities on the Thracian mainland. They could only do this with the assistance of Macedon, for Amphipolis was protector and beneficiary of Mount Pangaeus's silver and gold production. It was the Thasosan's recommendation that Macedon first take Crenides, for many of their kinsmen had already settled there. They assured King Philip that these expatriates would aid the invading Macedonian army from inside Crenides.

  Philip's sea voyage lasted two and a half days. The king spent most of his time draped over the side of the trireme, heaving out the diminishing contents of his churning stomach. Any semblance of trying to hide both his condition and his fear vanished. All he could think about was the calm that would come when the ship put into anchorage for the night, for it was unusual for any ancient ship to travel in open seas at night.

  Even when the ship was underway, it rarely was out of sight of land. This visual umbilical cord with land substituted for navigation skills that did not exist. The small trireme made its way around the trident-shaped peninsula that was Chalcidice. The king tried, when he wasn't retching, to observe the three land-fingers that pointed at him as if they knew his intentions. Cutting off its northern frontier could easily isolate the peninsula. His current plan, if successful, would eventually give him these accusing fingers that his ship finally left in its wake.

  Philip thanked Zeus when they landed in Thasos. He was received with celebration and respect, which he relished. But the best part of landfall was leaving the trireme, giving his sour intestines a chance to settle. Although his stomach calmed quickly, he was unbalanced for the two days that he remained on the island. When he mentioned his condition to the local Thasosan leader, he was told that many mainland people experienced the same vertigo.

  "Near Thasos, only a half-day's sea journey from here, is the island of Samothrace," the leader said. "If you know of the Cabiri mysteries, you've heard of it."

  Philip knew of the Cabiri mysteries of Samothrace from contact with the Pythagoreans in Thebes. His tutors had told him that most Greeks venerated the Cabiri. Their importance was second only to the mysteries at Eleusis, near Athens.

  "What good are they to me?" he asked the leader cynically.

  "If you continue your conquering ways in this part of the world, you'll have to travel on the sea. Thracian land travel is difficult because our roads are few and always in poor condition. Macedonian roads, I'm told, are well developed compared to Thrace's rocky paths. If you go to Samothrace and receive the initiation rites of the Cabiri, you'll be blessed with eternal protection when sailing. This protection is most valuable on the sea, but it's even effective on land. All you must do during times of danger is to call out the secret Cabiri names, and you'll be saved. Only initiates know their names. It's a crime punishable by death throughout Greece to reveal them to the uninitiated."

  Philip thanked the leader for the information, but soon forgot his suggestion. When he concluded his meetings with the Thasosan sympathizers, he was given intelligence that he needed. He could now rejoin his army that he knew was nearing Crenides. Dreadfully, he had to again embark on the sea voyage to the Thracian mainland. He thanked Zeus and Poseidon that it was less than a day's trip, through seas that seemed to know that Philip was on them.

  As the king disembarked in Thrace, he gave serious thought of becoming a Cabiri initiate. But the only way to get to Samothrace was on another bobbing trireme. Uncharacteristically, the decision about the Samothracian initiation was put off. Subduing Crenides and starting the siege of Amphipolis now dominated his thoughts.

  CHAPTER 9

  Princess Myrtle had spent the last years growing in her religious faith and developing physically into a beautiful young woman. No longer the insecure girl in her early teens, she had changed both inside and out. She had become a devout follower of Dionysus. Not only did she follow the god's teachings, she knew that he was inside her. This gift of immortality created in her a haughty self-assurance that was apparent to everyone. Her guarantee of immortality after death, combined with her unshakable knowledge that she had descended from Helen of Troy, produced an aura of invincibility around the teen-age woman.

  Outwardly, Myrtle was widely
known as the most stunning and self-important woman in Epirus. She had grown taller than her mother and was now approaching the height of her father. Her hair was auburn and she wore it in a variety of styles. There was an austere, religious style that she wore when she led religious processions during the Dionysia. Sometimes, when she walked alone along the steep cliffs surrounding the Passaron palace, she put bright colored cloth ribbons in it, allowing it to blow freely in the mountain wind.

  Once, she had been attracted to a handsome young palace guard. She worked for days and produced an abundance of curls in the coruscating reddish-brown mass. She then enticed the guard to walk with her in the palace gardens. Their innocent relationship was the talk of the court for a few months, before it ended. The dalliance had been only an experimental flirtation, for Myrtle was a woman who could only be had by marriage. Marriage to an insignificant Molossian youth was out of the question to both Myrtle and her regent uncle, Arybbas.

  Myrtle was successful in getting her uncle to invite her to a reception that was held for a visiting Macedonian envoy. Philip had sent the envoy after his great victory over Bardylis at Lake Ochrid. The Illyrians to their north had for generations, threatened the Molossian family in Passaron. Just as Macedon had been forced to pay exorbitant tribute to King Bardylis, so had the Epirotes. The envoy's mission was to begin negotiations for a treaty between Epirus and Macedon and to establish a common boundary between the two countries.

  The day after the reception, Arybbas called Myrtle to his chambers. They were alone and the princess sensed that a matter of great importance was at hand. "Myrtle, I've started looking for a suitable marriage for you. It won't be difficult finding a husband. Your attractiveness is known beyond our borders. I've already had many proposals but turned them down."

  "You might have consulted me," the princess replied with contempt. "However, I knew that this was your message, uncle. I'm glad the time has come. Understand that unlike other Molossian and Greek women in my position, I demand that I be allowed a say in the choice of a husband. If you force me to marry someone beneath my religious and personal position, I'll kill myself. You know me well enough to realize that this is not an idle threat. I'll do it!"

  "I knew that would be your reaction. I believe you. But you and I both know that your marriage must fulfill several goals for Epirus's security as well as your personal needs. I would rather have you dead than waste such a womanly prize on a useless barbarian who means nothing to our homeland."

  After an uncomfortable pause, Arybbas changed the subject. "On the island of Samothrace, far from Epirus, there's an initiation ceremony that would benefit both of us. It's said that pilgrims completing the Samothracian rites are given life-long protection. This protection covers not only dangers on the land, but protection for mortals sailing the sea. I don't know how one receives the gift. Apparently a person in danger need only say the names of the Cabiri chthonian gods and they will be saved. Epirus must become a seafaring nation if she is to survive.”

  “We've been locked in these mountains for centuries, and I intend to take us in new directions. The royal family and our merchants will be traveling on ocean-going ships in the future. The Greeks call them triremes. Any sane person understands that venturing on these ships requires special protection. I want the two of us, two other family members, and several of our merchants to attend the initiation ceremonies." He paused, waiting for a reaction from his thoughtful niece. There was none.

  "We'll travel first to Pella, the capital of Macedonia, with their envoy when he leaves in four days. It’s far to the northeast of Epirus, near the Thermaic Gulf. The trip is a difficult one through the Pindus Mountains, so you must prepare for it. It might take a week—perhaps longer, depending on the weather. We'll stay in Pella as Macedonian guests until arrangements have been made for a ship to take us to Samothrace. After the Cabiri initiation, I want to test our blessings by sailing the southern route around Greece and back home."

  Myrtle felt as if her ultimatum at the beginning of her audience with Arybbas had been ignored. She was also suspicious that her uncle had already arranged a marriage. Was he using her known compulsion with religion to dupe her? Was her intended husband already in Samothrace, awaiting their arrival? Yet the princess was fascinated with the idea of becoming a Cabiri initiate. She knew about the gods from the teachings of Nereid years ago. She was also excited about traveling to Pella. Everything she was hearing about the Macedonian capital led her to believe that someday it would be one of the most beautiful cities in the Greek world. She had often wondered what its youthful king was like. The women in the Molossian court said that he would, in time, dominate the Aegean. The exciting, long, and probably dangerous circumnavigation of Greece also captivated her. A glint formed in her eyes as she gave her answer. "I'll make the journey with you, uncle. If you're tricking me, I can end my life any time, in Pella, in Samothrace, in Athens, or wherever you take me. The snakes that I use as part of my worship are nonpoisonous. One, known only to me, can deliver a sweet kiss that will end any life in the blink of an eye. If you force me into a position I cannot abide, that serpent will end your selfish plans."

  Arybbas chose not to argue with his disrespectful niece. He gave her several instructions about preparing for the long journey, and then dismissed her. Contrary to Myrtle's declared suspicions, he did not have a marriage candidate in mind for the troublesome young woman. But the gods worked in strange ways; some propitious political opportunity just might present itself at one of the many stops that he had put into the itinerary.

  Seafaring visitors that came to Samothrace for initiation into the Cabiri mysteries first saw an enormous mountain rising from the blue Aegean. The island's central mountain rose five thousand feet from its rocky and inhospitable shores. The blind poet Homer first told the Greeks about Samothrace. It was from the summit of Samothrace's central mountain that Poseidon had studied developments in the Trojan war, hundreds of years ago. Its remoteness, rocky terrain, and poor anchorages had served to protect the ancient mysteries that had been practiced there for nearly a millennia.

  Now, sailing from the west, Arybbas and Myrtle neared the end of their two-and-one-half day voyage from the Athenian-controlled port of Methone. The regent of Epirus and his niece stood together on the bow of their slow-moving trireme. The mountain loomed ahead of them as the ship closed the distance. Before sailing for Samothrace, Arybbas had presented Myrtle at the Macedonian court in Pella, but the new king was not there. They learned that he was occupied at the siege of Amphipolis. Myrtle was disappointed. She knew that Arybbas was even more disappointed. The princess understood Arybbas’s actions almost before he took them. A marriage pact between the rising Macedonian monarch and herself would have solved many of his problems. She knew that Arybbas would not give up on his attempts to have her meet Philip. If an introduction never occurred, then there were certain to be other opportunities for her as she continued her grand tour of Hellas. It would simply be Philip’s misfortune. The gods would have their way with her.

  Myrtle, hair blowing gently in the salty sea wind, began thinking about her reception in Pella. The men of Philip's court had received her with guarded curiosity. Clearly, she was a woman of high birth and royal bearing. Many had thought that they were looking at Helen of Troy. Some had voiced concern, not to her, that King Philip should not take a wife who would become queen who was not of pure Macedonian blood. Some women even told her that the king already had a concubine and that she was pregnant. Myrtle had asked about the woman, wanting to meet her. But after her request was refused, she reasoned that the woman could not threaten her, should she ever become King Philip's wife. For centuries, kings of Epirus and Macedon had multiple concubines and wives; that was a fact of life that Myrtle had accepted from childhood. A royal woman's struggle was not at the beginning of a marriage, with existing concubines; it was after she had married, become pregnant, and produced a male heir to the throne that her guile became essential for survival.
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br />   Myrtle soon dismissed these thoughts and began thinking about other marriage opportunities. When she had visited the many temples in Pella, she learned that several important kings, governors, and rich merchants often attended the Samothracian rites. King Philip had missed an opportunity of a lifetime. But she knew that she was more than a political prize, as she stood braced against a wind that suddenly increased. Her red peplos pressed against her beautifully contoured body, making her look like she was naked. Any other Greek woman would not even have been allowed on the trireme's deck with male slaves and crewmembers. She smiled as she envisioned how she must look.

  As young as she was, she knew the impact she had on men. Even with this knowledge, she was still astonished at how easy it was to get them to do nearly anything that she wanted. Many surrendered if she simply teased them with some enticing part of her body. Some succumbed with breasts gently rubbed against their arms, ostensibly by accident. Others became clay when Myrtle bent over to pick up a deliberately dropped object. Still others couldn't resist her smile, her alluring dark eyes, or the coy manner in which she spoke, like a helpless little girl. Yet no man had known her; her cost was a queenship and everyone knew it. There would be many opportunities for her as their journey continued. Arybbas had only to present her and she would find a way.

  The trireme was now close enough to Samothrace that the captain struck the single sail that had been propelling the small ship. He then commanded the slaves to begin rowing through dangerous rocks, toward the sheltered solitary anchorage on the south side of the island. Myrtle went below, secured her many trunks, and then went back on deck. Thrilled, she watched the jagged rocks pass close to the ship and awaited a new religious experience on this stark, rocky isle.