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Storms over Babylon

Page 8

by Jennifer Macaire


  It was October. The air had a brassy feel to it; an autumn smell of ripe apples and grain. The heat had dried the plains, and dust made the sunsets a riot of reds and oranges. Dust pervaded the air and it glittered faintly gold.

  The river water was deep and amber-coloured. In the evening, fishermen cast their lines off the banks and bridges and waited for the fish to bite. Beggars sat on the steps of the temples. On one of the fountain walls a youth did handsprings. Minstrels sang for coins. A man sliced oranges and squeezed juice for drinks. Earthenware cups lined his stand and I bought a cup of juice, drank it, and gave the cup back. He rinsed it in the fountain and filled it with bright juice again. On another table were slices of frosty pink watermelons.

  As the blue evening gathered coolness around the city, I found a man reading the news. He was standing near the steps of the courthouse on a large block of stone. At his feet was a small hat full of coins. He held a rolled-up parchment in his hands. He was waiting for a client.

  ‘Good evening,’ I said, making my voice gruff. ‘What news have you?’

  He unrolled the parchment and harrumphed, giving a quick glance at the hat near his feet in case I didn’t understand. I tossed a silver coin in with the rest and he smiled broadly. ‘For that you get all the news and the latest gossip from the palace,’ He said. ‘Let’s see, first of all, the prices. Oil and …’

  ‘No, skip the prices,’ I said, ‘I’m not buying or trading. Get to the news.’

  ‘Fine, no problem. Let’s see. Iskander, our mighty king, has been spotted three days’ march from the city. He will arrive with his court and most of his famous generals. If you want autographs, go to the palace; in four days there will be an open-air meeting. Anyone can attend. The army has stayed behind in Susa. The biggest news happened in Opis not a week ago. Iskander wanted to retire his oldest Macedonian generals and replace them with Persians. The Macedonians and the Greeks rebelled. A great scuffle occurred and several men were killed. Iskander made a very long speech after that, the gist of it being this … hold on …’

  He took another parchment out of his leather pouch and unrolled it. Clearing his throat dramatically, he read, ‘“All the resources of Cyrene and Egypt are yours. Syria, Palestine and Mesopotamia are your kingdoms now. Yours are Susa, Babylon, Bactria, the riches of Lydia, the treasures of Persia, the wealth of India, the great ocean. You are satraps, generals, commanders; and of all this, what remains for me? For all my pain and struggles, what is mine except for the purple robe and crown I am wearing? I possess nothing for myself, and nobody can point to any treasures belonging to me except what belongs to you as well, and which I guard for you. It’s not for my personal use I guard them, seeing I eat the same food you do, and even quite a bit less than you. I even wake earlier than you, so that you may rest in the mornings.

  “So, tell me! Who among you has worked harder than I do? Who has endured more pain and suffering? Who has fought harder for me than I fought for them? So? Will those with scars take off their robes and show me, and I will show mine! There is no part of my body, in front or back, which bears not the marks of battle! I have been wounded by sword, by lance, by arrows, by catapults, and hand-to-hand fighting! And all that was for your glory! I have made you lords of the mountains and plains, of the rivers, seas and forests. My weddings were celebrated with yours, and many of my children and yours are related.

  “I told you I wished to send those of you back who were no longer fit for active service. To send you back with enough honours and gold to make you the envy of your entire village. Now you tell me you all wish to go? So be it. Go, all of you! But when you reach your villages tell them this; tell them that your king, the same Alexander who vanquished the Persians, the Medes, the Bactrians, the Scythians, who subdued the Uxians, the Arachosians, the Zarangians, who captured the Parthians, the Hyrcanians to the Caspian sea, who crossed the Caucus mountains, the rivers Oxus, Tanais and Indus; where only Dionysus went before, and who would have crossed the Hyphasis had you all not refused out of fear. The same Alexander who went to the outer sea from the two mouths of the Indus, who crossed the Gedrosian desert where none had crossed before, whose navy sailed the coast of the Persian sea, and who brought you all back to Susa. This Alexander, whom you wish to abandon and whom you will leave to the protection of the barbarians he conquered. Be sure, when you announce this, men will celebrate your valour and the gods your piety. Go now! Leave me! ”. ’

  ‘He said all that?’ I was impressed. It sounded like something Alexander would say when he’d lost his patience and his temper. I wondered who had started the rebellion and who had been killed. ‘What happened next? Did his generals desert him?’ I asked.

  He looked at me pityingly. ‘Would they do that? No, of course not. There was a huge feast the next evening and all the generals cried and begged forgiveness. They just wanted him to see that they were jealous of the Persians, that’s all.’ He shrugged. ‘But we’re in Persia, after all, and Iskander is trying to please everyone, as usual.’

  ‘Very astute,’ I said, peering closely at the man. ‘What else is new?’

  ‘Let’s see.’ He rolled up the speech and took his first parchment. ‘There will be a play about Epaminondas and his Democratic Party tonight at the theatre, and afterwards a debate about how the Greeks and Persians differ and how we can learn to live together. It will be animated by the B.R.B.G.P. society, better known as Better Relations between Greeks and Persians. There is a sale on parrots over by the temple, and anyone finding a white dog who answers to the name of Rex is asked to bring him to the Greek consul, where his master waits. A reward of ten obols is offered. And it says here that Plato died.’

  I frowned. ‘That was over twenty years ago!’

  ‘News travels fast nowadays,’ said the man proudly.

  ‘What’s the gossip in the palace?’ I was curious.

  ‘Very interesting news. Supposedly Iskander’s wife, Demeter’s daughter Persephone, is there, though nobody has seen her. She will be prayed to in Ishtar’s temple; the priestess is thinking about changing it to Demeter’s temple. A vote will be held in four days’ time. Drypetis is expecting her first child. She is doing poorly and has been confined to her bed.’

  I was startled; I hadn’t seen her around, but I hadn’t known she was ill. ‘Poor girl!’ I said.

  The man nodded sympathetically and continued. ‘The men in the palace are organizing a huge celebration for Iskander’s arrival, including polo games and an elephant parade. Hephaestion is looking for volunteers for the polo games, anyone with experience and good horses can contact him at the palace.’

  I remembered that Plexis had left his precious cavalry in Susa. He must miss them terribly, I thought. Then I sighed. He was as alone as I was. He was the new ruler of Ecbatana. He had people coming to see him constantly. However, none were his friends. When you are on top, everyone below looks up avidly waiting for you to topple so that they can tear you to pieces.

  The newscaster was looking at me closely. ‘Nice eyes you have there,’ he said. ‘Unusual colour. Like the early morning sky on a freezing winter’s day.’ He shivered. ‘Nice, but terribly chilly.’

  ‘Are you a poet?’ I asked. I wasn’t looking at him though. I was staring at the other side of the river, at the field where huge stands were being set up for the games. The city was getting ready to receive her king. Iskander was marching to Ecbatana. So many things were coming to a head. I shook my head suddenly, startled by tears that trickled down my cheeks.

  ‘Your beard is washing away,’ said the man. ‘Here, take my hankie.’

  ‘Thank you.’ I wiped my eyes and dabbed at my face. ‘Is it better now?’

  ‘No, there’s a streak here.’ He took the hankie and brushed my cheek. ‘There, now it’s fixed. You should be careful, try not to get upset.’

  ‘It’s normal, I’m pregnant,’ I told him, grinning wryly.

  ‘Really? Is it a miracle or are you perhaps not the man I thought you were
?’ He chuckled at his own joke.

  ‘Tell me something, how do you get your palace gossip?’ I was curious.

  ‘I have my sources,’ he said, puffing his chest out. ‘Seriously, do you think I’d tell you?’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘True, why not? I’ll tell you then. It’s the chief eunuch’s slave-boy. He tells me everything when he comes shopping for incense every morning.’

  ‘Why did you tell me?’ I asked. ‘Aren’t you afraid I’ll tell someone?’

  ‘Who? You’re obviously not from around here. Your accent is atrocious by the way. You sound like a …’

  ‘I know what I sound like,’ I held up my hand. ‘A lousy actor playing a Mesopotamian whore. So what else is new?’

  He grinned. ‘I like you Mr. Missus whatever you want to be. Therefore, I’ll tell you a secret. There’s a plot to do away with the new satrap, Hephaestion. He’s not very popular with the Persians. Too Greek by far. The eunuch, Bagoas, is plotting against him.’

  ‘Bagoas? But why?’ I gasped. Bagoas was rumoured to be the most beautiful man in Persia. I’d never seen him, but Alexander had told me about him. This was terrible news. I glanced up at the newsman who was staring at me with narrowed eyes.

  He leaned closer and said in a low voice, ‘I heard it’s because he’s jealous. Supposedly, he tried to seduce Iskander years ago, when he was here last time, and told Iskander he wanted to rule Ecbatana. He was waiting for that post, but Iskander put Hephaestion in charge. Bagoas swore he’d get even for that slight. Amazing what I know, isn’t it?’ He grinned.

  ‘How does he mean to kill him?’ I asked. ‘Poison?’

  Now he whispered into my ear. ‘He means to kill him during the games. I don’t know how. I’ll ask the slave-boy tomorrow, so meet me here. Same place, same time. I’ll tell you everything I can find out.’

  ‘Thank you,’ I said, putting another coin in his hat. He looked at me, amazed. I’d put a gold coin in it.

  I walked back in a daze. The sun had set, and the whole city was lit by street lamps made of pink blown-glass. The city was enveloped in a rosy glow. There was still a thin red line to the west. It shimmered like a fire on the very edge of the world. The buildings gave off the day’s heat. I put my hand on a brick wall. It felt almost alive. The flowers released their scent and the air was heavy with jasmine and heady gardenia. Their waxy white blooms peeped out of deep green foliage. I pushed aside a swath of jasmine vine and uncovered the ladder I’d left under the window. A glance showed me the alley was empty, and I scrambled up to the window. I made sure the ladder was well hidden again before I took off my disguise and washed my face in the basin of water I’d left behind the palm tree. Then I folded my clothes and slipped into my own apartments. I took great care now. I didn’t trust anyone.

  Bagoas. I frowned. I had never seen him. He was reputed to be so handsome that woman swooned and men fought each other for the right to court him. He held a great deal of power, and I guessed that the last satrap must have been his pawn. Poor Plexis. He was more at home on a horse than in a palace. What had possessed Alexander to give his friend this post?

  I found Axiom and told him everything I’d found out. Chiron was in bed, sleeping. I’d been gone for a long time. Axiom, the only one who knew what I was up to, had been worried. He was relieved when he saw me sneaking in the room. We hadn’t even told Millis, the eunuch Sis had given me when I arrived in Ecbatana. I didn’t trust anyone, and I was afraid he was her spy. Millis was Darius’s son by a slave woman, and therefore a slave, although his father had been the most powerful man in Persia. Being born male, in a harem, he was castrated when he was seven. His tongue was cut out, to keep him from speaking, and he was trained in the art of massage and lovemaking.

  In the gynaeceum, the women were often bored but rarely frustrated. Eunuchs guarded them, and slept with them. Sis had given me Millis, her own grandson. She would never think of him as her grandson, however. He was a slave, and that was all he’d ever be for her. I could never understand. I thought Millis was the most handsome person I’d ever seen, but when he tried to make love to me I told him, in no uncertain terms, that I only wanted a back rub. He was a wonderful masseur. He was mute, but not deaf. He adored me, and followed me around constantly. I liked him well enough. He was wonderful with Chiron too, but I wished he would stop insisting on sleeping at the foot of my bed. I hated it. Millis, however, seemed to think it was the highest honour I could give him – except maybe letting him sleep with me, and I wasn’t about to do that – so every night he unrolled his pallet out on the floor and curled up to sleep. Actually, I wouldn’t have minded too much if he did sleep. But he didn’t. He lay there staring at me.

  ‘Millis! Go to sleep!’ I would hiss, and he’d close his golden eyes for a second. Then he would open them again and watch me, as if he were afraid I’d disappear during the night. It had occurred to me that Sis had asked him to make sure I didn’t leave the gynaeceum.

  The next day I changed my disguise and went to town dressed as a youth. It was easier to do with my smooth cheeks. I still wore a wig but I cut it short, and instead of a funny hat, which marked me a married man, I wore a simple linen bandanna around my head. I had a knife tucked in my belt which meant I was a free man. I wouldn’t have minded going as a slave, but slaves were expected to look busy, not idle around, and I wanted to wander. I hadn’t finished exploring the city, and I had to get the latest news. I had sent Millis on an errand, so I wasn’t worried about him.

  When the afternoon shadows grew long I went to the courthouse and found my newscaster. He was sitting on a woven grass mat, his back to the block of stone, gnawing on a lamb chop. ‘Well, you certainly have changed,’ he told me. ‘You seem to get younger each time I see you.’

  I smiled uncertainly. ‘Do you have any news for me?’

  ‘I do, actually.’ He tossed the bone to a passing dog. ‘Is that you, Rex?’ But the dog only grabbed the bone and slunk away.

  ‘That dog wasn’t white,’ I reminded him.

  ‘That’s true, but if he’s anything like you maybe he decided to change his coat.’ He stretched his arms and cracked his knuckles. ‘Bagoas means business. He’s going to do something during the polo match but I know not what. The slave-boy was unwilling to give me any details. It seems Bagoas is gifted in poisons and many of his servants have died young.’ The man paused and glanced at his hands. ‘Perhaps it is not for me to say, but if I were you I would beware Bagoas. He has long arms and some say he can reach into the very heart of the gynaeceum.’ He said this blandly, but his eyes were sharp.

  I grimaced. ‘Is it so obvious?’ I asked.

  ‘No, my lady, but you shouldn’t leave the protection of the walls of your apartments. There are spies everywhere. Your life too is in danger.’

  ‘Mine? Is someone trying to kill me then?’ I asked lightly.

  ‘Perhaps. I would not take any chances of being found out in the open. There is a bad moon rising, the stars are unfavourable and the wind is blowing change.’

  ‘Are you a fortune teller then?’ I asked.

  ‘You can choose not to believe me,’ he said gently. ‘But I gather most of my news from the wind itself. Today news came to me of a wandering goddess and of her husband, camped not two days’ march away. If he hurries, he will be here late tomorrow night. But for Hephaestion the wind is blowing bitterly. I cannot imagine him getting much older.’ His voice was sorrowful. His eyes held mine.

  ‘I must see Bagoas,’ I whispered.

  ‘Impossible.’

  ‘No, nothing is ever impossible.’ I thought a minute. ‘Which god does he worship?’

  ‘He worships Ea, in the largest temple by the river. He goes every morning as the first rays of the sun pierce the night. Would you speak to him?’

  ‘No. I would kill him.’ I was surprised at the coldness in my voice.

  The man smiled and took my hand. ‘You will listen to me. I am not very wise, nor rich, nor powerful, bu
t the wind is my friend and he speaks to me. If he thought Bagoas would die he would have told me.’

  ‘I didn’t know until just now that he would die,’ I said.

  ‘Then I wish you luck.’

  ‘You said you weren’t rich, well, now you are.’ I took a heavy purse from inside my robe and put it in his hands. ‘There is enough gold there to make you and all your children rich.’

  He gasped as he took it. There was a long silence as he searched for words. Finally he reached over and patted my arm shyly. ‘The wind was right about you, at any rate. He said you were a treasure.’

  ‘Which wind was it?’

  He smiled. ‘The West Wind. He says he knows you well.’

  ‘Thank you.’ I waved and left. He stared after me until I was out of sight. I felt lighter. The gold had been very heavy. I had given him a small fortune. Now I had to find Axiom and tell him what I planned to do. And Plexis had to know. So did Alexander.

  Chapter Eight

  Four days after Alexander’s arrival he came to see me. I was impatient, nearly out of my mind with worry and cross with everyone, even snapping at Chiron.

  It was Chiron’s birthday; Alexander used that excuse to come to see me. He gave him a wooden chariot with wheels that turned, pulled by two articulated horses.

  The gifts Roxanne sent were burned. Axiom didn’t even bother showing them to me; he knew by now what to look for. Roxanne’s slave had given the gifts to Millis, and Axiom had snatched them right out of his hands and tossed them into the fire. Poor Millis didn’t know what to think. He was unhappy with all the secretive undercurrents but I wouldn’t tell him what was happening. I was still unsure of his loyalties. I was making him miserable, but it couldn’t be helped. I was unhappy too, I hated living in the women’s quarters, hated having to watch out for poison every moment, and I was frightened for my son.

 

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