Alexander the King

by Peter Messmore

  “I will send the message immediately,” Hephaestion answered. “Is there anything else?”

  “Send for Aristander when you leave. I want to consult him about Gordium. They have an ancient legend there about what is required to conquer Asia. Aristotle spoke to me about it in Mieza long ago. Since that is what I am going to do, I must know how to fulfill the prophecy.”

  Hephaestion left and the king walked nervously around his spacious, private tent. Although he made daily supplications and offerings to Zeus-Ammon, he craved more divine guidance. Experience had taught him to trust his personal seer, Aristander. The mystic was an inflated bag of wind at times, but there had been too many instances when he had been exactly right about how the gods were guiding him. Now, more than ever, he knew that he must stay attuned to the gods’ wills.

  “You look well, King Alexander,” Aristander said as the king’s bodyguard escorted him into the king’s tent. “But your spirit is troubled. How can I help?”

  Alexander smiled and grimaced simultaneously. Perhaps the seer knew that his spirit was troubled simply because he had sent for him. It was the only time that Aristander was ever asked into Alexander’s private quarters. However, even with that insight, King Alexander still needed his personal seer. “Tell me more about the legend at Gordium,” he said. “What is this great knot that is there?”

  “I knew that this would interest you, Alexander,” Aristander replied. “I have been gathering information about the legend as we moved south. The story is hundreds of years old. Near an acropolis temple to Zeus in Gordium, there is a wagon, complete with yoke and pole. No one knows its age; it was said to be old when Midas reigned.” Aristander paused, knowing how Alexander loved stories about historical events that had captured men’s imaginations for centuries.

  He continued. “The wagon’s yoke is fastened to the pole with very long strips of bark. It seems to have the appearance of an enormous knot. The knot is so complex that it defies anyone who tries to untie it. Many have tried; all have failed.”

  Aristander paused again. He knew that the knot’s complexity was bound to have a challenging impact on Alexander. “An ancient oracle gave a prophecy that the person who successfully loosed the knot would become supreme ruler of all Asia. It is a legend that is worthy of you, great Alexander.”

  Alexander had known of King Midas since his days as Aristotle’s student in Mieza. He did not know the fascinating details of the knot, however, until now. His eyes sparkled and, for a brief time, his troubled spirit was buoyed. “It is a challenge worthy of the son of Zeus-Ammon,” he said softly. Then he looked at Aristander and gave a command. “When I untie the knot, the prophecy will be fulfilled. Speak to Callisthenes and Eumenes before we get there. I want my actions there glorified throughout the world.”

  Alexander dismissed Aristander and issued orders to break camp the next morning. His plan called for him to take the Persian Royal Road north and, in late winter, meet up with Parmenio in Gordium. Asia’s developing legend was eager to confront one of the continent’s oldest legends in ancient Gordium.

  ≈

  At Gordium, Alexander received welcomed reinforcements from home. Men who had been granted home-leave in Macedonia returned, along with 3,000 new infantrymen. Also added were 500 cavalrymen. The king put off any confrontation with Parmenio; the timing was still not right.

  Gordium’s inhabitants surrendered as Alexander approached and no Macedonian lost his life in taking the city. Now, with a retinue of his closest Royal Companions, Callisthenes, Eumenes, and Aristander, the king walked up Gordium’s acropolis and approached the city’s ancient wagon. It was an Alexander moment.

  “The wagon is old,” the king said as he circled it. “Such a knot,” he said as he stopped and studied it. “Who created such a puzzle?”

  Alexander circled the wagon yoke and pole again, then walked beside the great knot. “There are no open ends to the bark strands,” he remarked. “Both ends are buried somewhere in the knot itself. It’s an enigma worthy of me.”

  The men in his party smiled and, individually, began to examine the knot. One by one, they withdrew, leaving only Alexander to probe its complexity.

  Time passed and the king continued to examine the knot. Alexander thought he might just simply pull the wooden pin where the yoke connected to the pole. Although the symbolic simplicity of such an act appealed to him, he rejected it. The situation needed more drama.

  Suddenly he pulled out his short sword and savagely began hacking at the knot. Soon, its hidden, inner ends lay exposed. Alexander stopped his strokes, found one of the knot’s loose ends in the severed bark strands, and flicked it with his sword tip. “What difference does it make how I loosed the damned thing,” he shouted. “Asia will be taken by my sword. That’s all that matters.”

  Alexander turned, walked up to Callisthenes, and scowled. “A Phrygian told me that the legend’s wording was vague. I always believed that Asia’s conqueror must literally untie the knot. The legend can also be interpreted as breaking it up. I have chosen the latter version. Let it be known that Asia’s newest lord is breaking up the old, Persian empire and establishing a new one. Record this in your history of our expedition.”

  With a new legend established, King Alexander left Gordium’s acropolis and called for a military assessment of his forces. The pedagogues, philosophers, and court propagandists could take the mythology of Gordium to new levels in their stuffy writings and treatises. Alexander of Macedon had other worlds to conquer.

  ≈

  Zeus-Ammon must have been watching over his son. General Memnon, fresh from successful naval raids against Macedonian and Ionian ports, began the siege of Miletus. Alexander had subdued the city a year earlier. Shortly after the siege began, Memnon fell ill and died.

  Memnon’s death and what the Persians must now do was the only topic on King Darius’ agenda as he convened a war council of nearly all of his satraps and military commanders. They met in the king’s royal hall in Babylon.

  “The Greek’s death was a catastrophe for us,” the Great King began. “The outcome of our offensive naval moves against Macedonia and the Ionian ports is in jeopardy. I want open and honest opinion expressed about our future strategy. Let me hear from each of you. No one can leave this gathering until a sensible strategy emerges. I don’t care if it takes a week!”

  The Persian debate settled quickly on two possible courses of action. A semi-retired naval commander emerged as the leader of the group that wanted Memnon’s naval offensive carried to the Macedonian homeland. Although he spoke forcefully and wisely, the old man clearly was no Memnon. His position gained little support from the king’s active commanders. The other course of action, advocated by Darius’ current infantry and cavalry commanders, urged the king to bring the Macedonians to a direct battle in a location where Persian knowledge of their land would bring eventual victory. “By then, our great numbers will win the day and the war,” a young nobleman who had distinguished himself at Granicus added.

  King Darius accepted the strategy of using Persian army and cavalry against Macedonian army and cavalry. Nearly unanimously, his subjects also urged him to lead the army as its in-the-field commander. “Morale will be boosted beyond imagination if our infantry sees you at their head,” an aging general told the king.

  The only dissenter was an Athenian mercenary captain in the king’s paid service. “This is folly,” he shouted. “Great King, you should stay in your capitol, directing overall strategy. You are risking your entire empire!”

  Acrimonious yelling started between the Persians and the Greek. It quickly degenerated into insulting name-calling. Darius, more incensed than was necessary, grabbed the mercenary and threw him to his guards. “Execute him now!” he shouted. “These are the kind of fighters that go over to the enemy when the battles start.”

  The Great King committed his empire to a single strategy. They would begin the hunt for Alexander and his army. Then, they would maneuver the Macedo
nians into a pivotal battle that could only result in a Persian victory.

  The offensive naval strategy might have worked under Memnon’s generalship. Now, it was abandoned. Soon, the Great King believed, Persia’s greater numbers would win the war. Darius was satisfied that it was the only way to rid his empire of the barbarian hordes that even now were moving east.

  CHAPTER 9

  ISSUS

  “Only the Taurus Mountains separate us then,” said Darius. “We are only two day’s march from each other. Has it come down to this?”

  “It has, Great King,” answered his intelligence chief. “Alexander must be guessing which gate we will move our forces through. Parmenio’s scouts check the gates that they are aware of daily. My most recent reports have Alexander waiting for us at the Syrian Gate.”

  “Then the fool has fallen into our trap,” said the Great King showing a broad smile. “Let him wait there while I outmaneuver him. Prepare my army for immediate departure. We will sweep north, pass through the Amanic Gates, and come down on Issus. It will block his retreat and lines of communication; he will be completely surprised. What a half-wit!”

  Darius’ orders were issued and the Persian camp erupted into activity. All noncombatants, the Great King’s considerable baggage train, and most of his treasure were sent back to Damascus under heavy guard. They would only get in the way as he decimated the Macedonian barbarians.

  ≈

  “Our intelligence stinks,” Alexander lamented to his closest companions. Present were Craterus, Perdiccas, Seleucus, and Hephaestion. “We have no damn idea where the Persians are right now. They could sweep down on us from any direction. I’ve never felt so blind!”

  “Parmenio just sent messengers urging you to return to Issus,” Perdiccas said. “Our sick and wounded are still there. Establishing your headquarters there would afford you the position of most flexibility when Darius finally appears.”

  Seleucus agreed. “Issus’ position between the sea and the mountains is of great advantage to us, Alexander. We must not allow Darius to move us onto a broad plain; his cavalry and greater infantry numbers would cut us to pieces.”

  “What is their total number?” asked Alexander.

  “A spy just returned from a perilous trip over the mountains,” Perdiccas answered. “He reports that they exceed our total number by at least 75,000 fighters. We cannot afford to lose any tactical advantage with such an inequity of forces!”

  “Increase the number of our scouts,” Alexander commanded after a long pause. “I want every gate checked daily for the next several days. I won’t return to Issus. Parmenio is wrong; they will come through the Syrian Gate. It’s there that I will wait with our main army. Everyone but Hephaestion is dismissed. Carry out my orders. We will meet again at first light tomorrow.”

  Hephaestion joined Alexander in an isolated corner of his command tent. Their conversation was muted so they could not be overheard. “Events are quickening,” Alexander began. “With the coming battle, I want you to know something.”

  Hephaestion smiled, placed his hand on his companion’s shoulder, and said, “I am pleased that you confide in me. What is it”

  Alexander ran his fingers through his wavy hair, looked into space, and then addressed his friend. “You and the whole camp know that Harpalus just defected to Athens. The official word is that he is a traitor and will be executed when caught. This is the surface story. It’s not true. At Aristotle’s suggestion, I’ve sent him back to gather intelligence on Athens’ actions. His knowledge of economics makes him an invaluable spy. No one suspects—only he, you, and I know his real mission.

  “If I should fall in the coming battle, use this information wisely. I can’t tell you how to use it, but it might prove valuable in the scramble to succeed me. Do you understand?”

  “I do. But rest assured, you are not going to be killed in this battle. You are Zeus-Ammon’s anointed. Do you doubt that now?”

  “No, I don’t.” But knowledge is power. My telling you this is only a precaution. We will speak no more of it until the time is right.”

  Hephaestion left and Alexander gave supplication to some local deities, asking for guidance against the illusive Persian enemy that so threatened his army’s safety. Surely tomorrow would bring word of where Darius was positioned. His personal gods would see to it.

  ≈

  A commotion awakened Alexander from a deep sleep, a sleep that was much needed for he had not slept in two days. Bursting out of his private tent, he shouted to his bodyguard. “What is it? Has Darius been spotted?”

  In the distance, the king spotted the reason for the uproar. Nearly two hundred of his wounded and sick, soldiers that had been left in Issus were limping and staggering into his encampment. They were still distant but close enough that Alexander could make out that they had something black on their hands.

  He ran to meet them and saw that each was handless. He approached an officer that he had known since boyhood. “What happened to you?” he asked.

  The officer, weak and near collapse, told his king a ghastly story. “Darius’ army is at your rear. He took Issus easily, killed or maimed most of the hospital cases you left there and did this to us. After cutting off our hands, he dipped our stubs in tar pitch to staunch the flow of blood but not release us from the pain. After the pitch dried, he forced us to tour the Persian lines where we were ridiculed. Then he sent us back here to you.” Completing his account, the officer fainted.

  Alexander was stunned. He had fallen for Darius’ trap. The entire Persian army had out circled him and emerged north of Issus by an unknown gate, far north of the Persians’ anticipated route. Parmenio had been right again. Alexander’s path of retreat was blocked and his line of communication severed. South of his position were the hostile forces of Phoenicia.

  He could quickly take his army through the Syrian Gate where he had been waiting, but that would only prove advantageous to the Persians. He was left with only one choice: he must turn 40,000 men, march north, and encounter a strongly encamped enemy. The odds against doing this successfully were overwhelmingly against him.

  Alexander gave orders to have the maimed soldiers given the best care and, in time, put on triremes to Macedonia. Then, he called a war council. His top commanders discussed his few options. Then the king gave orders to march north, where a Persian army of 100,000 waited for him.

  ≈

  Late afternoon of the next day, the two armies faced each other. A small river, the Pinarus, separated them. The Persians, although they would have preferred open ground to take advantage of their greater numbers, were positioned high on the river embankment. During the last two days, they had also built earthen and log defenses where the embankment was lower.

  Parmenio was on the Macedonian extreme left, immediately adjacent to the sea. His orders were to maintain contact with the rocky shore under all circumstances. No Persians were to be allowed to flank his fighters by using the beach. On the right, next to the foothills of the mountain, was Alexander with most of his massed cavalry. These were the usual positions of the allied Greek and Macedonian forces.

  The battle began with initial skirmishes in which both armies sought advantage. However, these forays failed to change either side’s positions. Suddenly, the Persian archers let loose their barbed missiles. The sky darkened as their arrows become so numerous that they collided with each other.

  Then, with the blast of a trumpet, Alexander launched his Companion Cavalry attack, causing Darius’ archers to retreat. Alexander’s timing was perfect. The battle on the right took a distinct Macedonian advantage as Alexander suddenly turned on an angle and pressed toward the Persian center.

  The Macedonian phalanx in the center was struggling getting across the river and surmounting the steep embankment and Persian palisades. A stalemate among allied and Persian fighters in the center soon resulted and neither side could advance more than a few feet. Parmenio was only partially successful on the allied left, bar
ely crossing the Pinarus. Importantly, no matter what else was happening, the enemy would not flank the old general.

  Having broken through the Persian troops to the right of center, Alexander now redirected his Companion Cavalry wedge toward the rear of the Persian Greek mercenaries and Darius’ Royal Bodyguards. The Great King was clearly his target. Mayhem reigned as hundreds of frenzied Macedonians fought their way toward Darius. Dead horses and bodies of fighters from both sides blocked the way. The screams of dying men on both sides filled the air so that commanders’ orders on both sides could not be heard. Alexander pressed the attack, furiously killing tens of enemy fighters himself as the deadly Macedonian surge neared the royal chariot of Darius himself. Alexander received a thigh wound from an enemy spear, but his relentless charge continued.

  Darius and Alexander could now clearly see each other. For a moment, both men ignored the noise and confusion of the great battle that swirled around them. Darius’ horses reared, stumbled and almost propelled the Great King into the enemy. However, just at that moment, despite great difficulty, one of the king’s charioteers brought a lighter chariot forward and helped Darius board it. Sensing defeat, Persia’s Great King grabbed the horses’ reigns himself and fled the conflict. The battle of Issus turned on that single event.

  Just as Alexander made the decision to pursue Darius, a scout rode up to him and shouted, “Our left and center are in jeopardy! They need your cavalry now!”

  Alexander cursed, but he knew what he must do. He would capture Darius later. A great victory was nearly in his hands. His army needed him now. He ordered nearly all of his right wing into the center of the enemy mercenary flank and began to drive them out of the river.

  The Persian cavalry commander, Nabarzanes, saw what Alexander was doing to his center. Even if he decided to aid the Persian fighters there, he would have to ride over the corpses of his own dead men. Horses needed stable footing to engage the enemy. Nabarzanes gave the retreat order and the Persian rout began.