Alexander the King

by Peter Messmore

  The king left with Abuleites. Harpalus sent for twenty of his fiscal assistants. It would take them the rest of the day and most of the night even to begin the task that Alexander had set before them.

  ≈

  Darius’ throne room was indeed a Persian national treasure. Entering it, Alexander’s first impression was of the great beauty of the blue, glazed brick tile reliefs on both end walls. As he walked about the great room, he strolled on a shining floor of malachite and marble. A forest of granite columns lined both sides of the entry corridor. The conquering king glanced left and right as he continued his way toward the throne. Each column he passed was trimmed in malachite and gold. Persian bulls, unicorn-like animals, horned lions, and winged griffins were inlaid into each of the columns. Alexander saw cords of white and violet flaxen attached on one end to the columns. The other ends supported silken canopies that covered the chamber’s ceiling. They gently wafted in a light breeze and resembled clouds.

  At the end of the chamber was the empty throne, beneath the magnificent golden plane tree. Alexander smiled and knew that the throne was waiting just for him.

  He strode confidently up to the throne and, with some difficulty, seated himself on its seat. It was apparent that Great King Darius was a much taller man than the conqueror who now occupied the seat of Persian power. Alexander’s feet dangled in the air, not even coming close to reaching the solid gold footstool beneath them.

  An alert Macedonian page saw what had happened and saved the embarrassing moment. In a swift, two-step move, he jerked up the golden footstool and replaced it with a small table. Now, the King of Macedon, Pharaoh of Upper and Lower Egypt, and son of Zeus-Ammon had a solid resting place for his royal feet. It all seemed like a fitting omen.

  ≈

  The Persian satrap, Ariobarzanes, thought that he had figured out Alexander’s next moves. Any sane general would go into winter quarters at Susa, consolidate his position, and rest his troops. It was the beginning of a bitter winter, and Ariobarzanes knew the territory around Susa well. He intended to use the towering Zagros Mountains, adjacent to Susa, as his ally. Even in a worst-case scenario, he could slow down Alexander’s advance.

  “They will wait in Susa until spring,” Ariobarzanes told his commanders as he pointed to a map. “Then, they will move in one of two directions: either northeast to Ecbatana or south-east toward Parsa and Pasargadae.”

  His commanders smiled and saw immediately what their leader was proposing.

  “I now have 25,000 infantry and 700 cavalry. When he moves, we will fortify the Susian Gates and engage him. He is now in our land; I know how to use it against him. I will not repeat past mistakes.”

  “This delaying action will give Great King Darius in Ecbatana more time to raise additional fighters. The coming third battle with this barbarian is going to be different. We will have their Greek asses this time.”

  His officers roared with laughter and shouted their approval. Each left the meeting in high spirits. They knew that their great god, Ahura Mazda, would be with them when Persia’s national existence was at stake. They could not fail this time.

  ≈

  Alexander did not winter in Susa. Nor did he do what Ariobarzanes predicted. He sent Parmenio southeast toward Parsa while he led a smaller group of more lightly armed fighters over the Zagros Mountains to encounter Ariobarzanes at the Susian Gates. The king knew that the Persians would never expect this division of his forces.

  Five days later Alexander’s forces were at the Susian Gates. Initially, Ariobarzanes beat back the Macedonians and inflicted heavy casualties. Bloodied but undaunted, Alexander abandoned his direct assault tactics. He left Craterus at the Gate, then led a smaller group of commandos over a little-known trail and came up behind the Persian defenders. The rest was a massacre. Ariobarzanes escaped with only 700 of his cavalry and retreated to Ecbatana, where Darius waited. Once again, the Persians had failed to react to Alexander’s unpredictable tactics. Their time was running out.

  ≈

  “They call it Parsa,” Alexander said as he toured the most holy city in the Persian Empire. His army had now been there a week. “Aristotle called it Persepolis. Let all records from now on refer to it by the Greek term. It’s gentler to my ears.”

  The holy city, north of the narrowest part of the Persian Gulf, had been long known to the Greeks as the most beautiful on earth. “It’s an honor that is well deserved,” Alexander remarked. Walking through the Apadana with his close inner circle that included Hephaestion, Craterus, Coenus, Erigyius, Perdiccas, and Leonnatus, the king was in a jovial mood.

  They paused in a shaded area covered by great beams of carved cedar. His men formed a circle around the king and listened to his latest concern.

  “I’ve already met with their priests and they are impassive. I told them that I’m aware of their new year’s festival called Akitu. I hinted that they should include me in it, since I am the new Great King.”

  “What did they say?” asked Perdiccas.

  “I received silence,” Alexander answered. “Not a protest, not a lecture, just silence.”

  “Did you kill any of them?” asked Hephaestion. “Death always gets Persians’ attention.”

  “They would die happily. Besides, that isn’t what I want. I want them to recognize me as the chosen of Ahura Mazda. I explained that this had already happened in Egypt. It made no impression on them. They’re acting like the Jews I met south of Tyre.”

  Craterus spoke up. “The common priests and the hereditary caste the Persians and Medes call the Magi make up this opposition group. I’ve learned that their astrology and mythology predict the arrival of a horned beast, one who will conquer their land. They are all convinced that you are the beast, Alexander.”

  Alexander lowered his head and sighed. His anger was building, and today he felt like a beast. Since the capture of Babylon and Susa, he had held back his troops from ravaging any of the populations. That restraint was part of a developing plan that called for peaceful domination of the Persian Empire. “I’ll give them seven days,” he said at last. “Get word to their leaders that I must be acknowledged as the beloved of their deity. I won’t settle for less. Tell them I will turn my men loose on Persepolis if they don’t comply. They haven’t had a good rampage since Gaza. I won’t give the Persians another chance.”

  ≈

  The priests of Ahura Mazda and the Magi remained silent. Alexander fulfilled his threat. On the eighth day, he unleashed his men. All day and into the night private homes were invaded, adult males were killed, and women raped and mutilated. At the end of the rampage, Macedonians were fighting each other for treasure that they would eventually carry back to their homeland. Only the Great King’s palaces and the royal treasury were off-limits.

  When the looting subsided, Harpalus and Alexander once again inspected more national treasure from conquered Persia. Persepolis’ reserves were even greater than Susa’s. “What is the tally, Harpalus?” Alexander asked his treasurer.

  “I’m aghast,” Harpalus said. “We have discovered 120,000 talents, some of the coins are very old. Darius didn’t think he needed it against you. The king’s bedroom alone yielded 8,000 golden talents. The palace furnishings and personal jewelry nearly equal the other two sources. Combined, it is more than Athens could have taken in for hundreds of years during her empire days. I can’t believe our good fortune.”

  Alexander smiled a nervous smile. He was now the richest man in the world. For the first time since he had left Macedonia, deeply in debt and embarking on a nearly hopeless mission, he no longer feared having enough money to do what his destiny demanded. The treasure’s vast sum also allowed him to launch a plan that he had been developing for some time.

  “When the time is right, Harpalus, I’m going to reorganize my army. Commanders at every level will either be sent back home, reassigned, or eliminated. I will also allow any of our Macedonians, Thessalian, or Greek league fighters to return home. I will use Pers
ia’s treasure to buy support from now on. Those that stay with me will be enriched. However, if they take the money, they must continue east without protest. This is a critical time in my reign, and I want the reorganization done without trouble.”

  Alexander could see that Harpalus wasn’t surprised. He had hinted at this action before. “When will this happen?” Harpalus asked.

  “Soon. Only you and a few others know about it. Keep it that way. Timing is everything.”

  “I want you to estimate what amount we will be able to pay returning infantry and cavalrymen. Infantry should receive one-sixth what the cavalry gets. Calculate the numbers and let me know what’s possible.”

  “It will take some time, but I understand your plan. How long do I have?”

  “The army will go on to Ecbatana when the time is right. Have a report ready for me by then. Arrange also for the treasure to be taken out of Persepolis. Soon, it will no longer exist.”

  With that cryptic comment, the king and Harpalus parted. Alexander had much to do.

  ≈

  “This is your most outrageous act yet,” Parmenio shouted at Alexander. “Burning Persepolis is destroying your own property.” Parmenio saw that Alexander was furious and watched his hand move toward his dagger. Just as quickly, the king’s hand relaxed.

  “Xerxes burned Greek temples,” Alexander shot back. “What’s the difference?”

  “If you can’t see the difference between a few temples of Macedon’s Greek tormentors and this beautiful city, then I pity you,” Parmenio said. “You will never be acknowledged as the Persian spiritual leader if you do this.” Parmenio’s eyes were bulging and distinct veins stood out from his neck.

  “That’s enough!” Alexander yelled. “I didn’t have to tell you. It will happen tonight at the banquet. Go to our troops around the city and make sure that they know this is their king’s actions and not an enemy attack.”

  Parmenio glared an ugly stare at Philip’s son. Why in Zeus’ name did I ever support this little shit’s accession? he asked himself silently. I had my opportunity then. It’s too late now. I’m getting too old for all of this. He decided to appeal to Alexander’s personality.

  “History, a subject that you love, will never forgive you for this. Calm down; give it more thought. More than the city will burn if you destroy Persepolis.”

  “Don’t threaten me, Parmenio,” Alexander shot back. “Get yourself to our men. The decision has been made. Remember your place. Every man in my command structure can be replaced, even you!”

  Parmenio had endured as much of the overbearing youth as he could stand. He left Alexander and rode to join his men. The air was clearer there, and he knew that most of them adored him. That knowledge would sustain him a little longer.

  ≈

  That night at the banquet Alexander got much more drunk than usual.

  Late in the evening, Ptolemy’s mistress, Thais, shouted a garbled challenge to Persia’s new Great King. “What a good idea it would be if King Alexander burned down what remained of beautiful Persepolis. Every Greek will honor you for it,” she muttered drunkenly.

  The king hadn’t put her up to it, but he seized the moment. He called for torches and then led a procession of over twenty fellow-drunks through the Great King’s royal palace. Amid the playing of flutes and banging of cymbals, he and the others casually lit silken drapes and wooden doors. Flames spread quickly and soon, the enormous, carved cedar beams from far off Lebanon had started to burn.

  The igniting procession lasted until well after midnight. At last, the king’s drunken entourage was forced out of the palace by threatening, palace-eating flames. The king’s rowdy group then fled to the desert and watched as the raging fire consumed the ancient city.

  The spiritual center of Persia for several millennia was soon engulfed in a mighty conflagration. The fire was seen for hundreds of stadia.

  ≈

  Parmenio stood with his men watching the palace’s destruction. Most of them cheered, but the old general was saddened. None of this was necessary. Alexander’s new command style was fast becoming one of revenge and vindictiveness. The old general knew that he would not be protected very long from the king’s developing fury.

  A deadly contest had started between the two and he intended to see his family again in Macedonia. Like Alexander, he had much to do.

  CHAPTER 14

  HUNTING DARIUS

  “Here’s my plan, Harpalus,” Alexander said to his treasurer. “Persia’s wealth allows me to now have mostly paid soldiers. I’m disbanding all Corinthian League troops. Cavalrymen’s severance bonus will be 6,000 drachmas; each infantryman will get 1,000. This is in addition to their regular pay.

  “Seleucus, get all of this organized. I want all of Parmenio’s supporters out of camp by week’s end. Give them an escort to the Mediterranean coast.”

  “Nearchus, leave today and assemble enough ships to take them back as far as Euboea. They can make their way home from there. I expect them to be a stabilizing influence throughout Greece and Macedonia. I already informed Antipater of these actions.”

  “Are they all going?” Ptolemy asked. “These men comprise our core fighters; they helped us get where we are.”

  Alexander frowned, then responded to Ptolemy. “I will encourage any man who is not known to be a supporter of Parmenio to reenlist as a soldier of fortune. Those that do will receive 18,000 drachmas. That should insure their allegiance to me. Nevertheless, those who have sided with Parmenio in recent months are leaving. Only his sons, Philotas and Nicanor, will continue to hold command positions.”

  The king forced a prolonged silence and then continued. “Parmenio is bringing Darius’ treasure here in the next several days. I’m ordering him to remain in Ecbatana as the area’s regional commander. Some local pacification there is still necessary. He’s seventy now and will not be able to keep up with us as we chase Darius. I will appoint a new chief of staff before our departure.”

  The meeting ended, and only Hephaestion and Alexander remained in the king’s command tent. “Hephaestion, this is what I have wanted since becoming king. From now on, I will control everything. Darius’ capture will be the culminating moment. I will demand that he declare me Great King of Persia and may even let him live.”

  “Your actions were taken just in time,” Hephaestion said. “Parmenio’s plots were getting harder to discover. His supporters have become more secretive in the last months. This will end all of that.”

  “You’ve done well to keep him in check, Hephaestion. Tell no one of these plans. Know this too: Parmenio must be eliminated before long. I can’t have him at my rear or even in Macedonia. His military skills would overwhelm Antipater.

  “Enough of this! Let’s get drunk the way we did after Chaeronea.”

  Alexander called for slaves to bring more wine as he and Hephaestion started a long evening of mind-numbing drinking. Swallowing a huge gulp of his father’s favorite blend, Alexander gave his friend a command. “Watch for a situation while I’m chasing Darius that will allow me to remove Parmenio. I want it done in a way that Philotas and Nicanor will not lead a rebellion against me. Both of them are strong leaders and have supporters in my army.”

  “You’re good at these intrigues, Hephaestion,” Alexander continued. “Observe events and let me know when it is time. Tell no one what you are doing,” he said a second time. “When I capture Darius, we will discuss your recommendations. Everything must be done with care. No blame can be placed on me. I want an event that will put Parmenio in a hopeless situation, one from which he cannot escape. Do you understand?”

  Hephaestion smiled. Alexander was right: he was good at this sort of thing. “I understand perfectly. I’ll set it up. You won’t be disappointed.”

  The two friends continued drinking until the middle of the night, and then fell asleep beside each other on the king’s huge bed. Alexander had left orders with his bodyguards that they were to be awakened at dawn. The King of M
acedon had a deadly mission ahead of him running down the Great King of Persia.

  ≈

  Darius looked like an enormous, emaciated skeleton. Since Alexander’s invasion of his empire, he had lost half of his body weight. None of his royal robes or uniforms fit him, and he had recently started wearing field uniforms borrowed from his generals. His face was pockmarked with acne scars and his hair had started to thin prematurely. At times, he wondered if his great god would take him before Alexander did.

  “Why didn’t those damn reinforcements arrive?” Darius shouted to his top commanders. They were gathered in a small encampment, five days ahead of the pursuing Alexander. “I wanted one last chance at Alexander. Now, all we can do is run.”

  “If we can make it through the Caspian Gates, I’ll order the destruction of all land we pass through. By the time we move along the Caspian Sea into Bactria, Alexander will encounter nothing but burned wasteland as he pursues us. I know that he has completely outrun his communication and supply lines. It is our only hope.”

  The Great King examined his generals and commanders. Most looked as bad as he felt. Two groups of subordinates had developed during the Great King’s ragged retreat from Alexander. One was led by the Bactrian satrap and general, Bessus. He was of royal Achaemenid blood and was a natural leader of men in battle. The aging Artabazus, supported by the still effective Greek mercenaries, led the other group. Artabazus’ group was still loyal to Darius.

  Bessus’ followers were wavering in support of the Great King. Darius’ cowardly retreat now precipitated them to act. Nabarzanes, one of Darius’ grand viziers, revealed his true allegiance by rising and approaching his monarch. Not a scintilla of proskynesis was given as he walked boldly before the human shell that was Darius. Only in this time of national catastrophe would he ever dare to approach the Great King and make a proposal such as the one that emerged from his lips.

  “Great King, Bactrians, and my fellow Persians,” he began. “Darius has lost what little leadership ability he ever had. Alexander has defeated him three times. If we follow his limp retreat strategy, he will be defeated a fourth and final time. We are all going to die.”