The Three Paradises

by Robert Fabbri

  ‘What choice do we have?’ Seleukos countered, downing a cup of wine in one.

  ‘You say “we” but it was actually only you who gave your word to Arrhidaeus; and you did so without consulting Peithon or me.’

  ‘I gave you both the chance to object but neither of you did.’ Seleukos waved away the criticism. ‘Anyway, Ptolemy has to be allowed to speak. He has Alexander’s body; he must defend his taking it. When he justifies his actions then he makes Perdikkas’ decision to go to war with him even more dubious.’

  ‘And if Ptolemy can’t explain himself to the men’s satisfaction?’ Kassandros asked.

  Seleukos grunted and gave a half-smile. ‘Have you ever known Ptolemy to be unable to talk his way out of a situation?’ He stopped abruptly, as if he had just remembered something of vital importance. ‘Oh, of course, silly me; you were left behind in Macedon weren’t you, Kassandros? So you probably hardly remember him at all anymore; although you did briefly know him during the few months after Alexander’s death before he went to Egypt.’ Seleukos feigned a look of concentrated recollecting. ‘You were in Babylon at that time, weren’t you?’

  ‘You know perfectly well that I was.’

  ‘Of course, I remember now; you arrived the day before Alexander fell ill. You’d come all the way from Pella because Alexander had sent Krateros to replace your father as regent of Macedon and you were bearing a letter from him asking for confirmation of the order. Strange, we all thought, Antipatros sending his son as a post boy when anyone would have done; especially as the mere sight of your face would have been enough to send Alexander into a fury, such was his aversion for you.’ He smiled pleasantly at the scowling Kassandros. ‘Still, it didn’t matter in the end, did it? Alexander was dead within three days of your arrival.’ He gave Peithon and Antigenes a knowing look. ‘Conveniently.’

  Kassandros sprang to his feet. ‘What are you insinuating?’

  Seleukos motioned for him to sit back down. ‘Nothing, Kassandros, nothing at all. Your younger brother, Iollas, was Alexander’s cup-bearer; allowing him to mix his wine and water shows just how much trust Alexander placed in your family, despite his hatred for you personally.’

  Kassandros shot Seleukos a look of pure loathing, but slowly backed down as the bigger man casually cracked his knuckles.

  ‘I mean nothing by it, my friend,’ Seleukos said, refilling his cup with un-watered wine and shrugging his shoulders. ‘Nothing at all. But there could be more than a few who might make some unwarranted connections should rumour run unchecked. Wouldn’t you agree, Antigenes?’

  The veteran general scratched at his bald pate, sucking on his lip, as if he were considering a matter of great import. ‘Yes, I’d agree. A few of my lads have already wondered at the coincidence but I’ve told them not to be so suspicious and I still have to keep on doing so from time to time.’

  Seleukos gave him a look of sympathy. ‘It would be a shame if you stopped.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t think that I would do that.’

  Seleukos nodded in agreement. ‘No, I don’t think that you would, not unless someone tried to make himself too popular with our lads, giving rousing speeches and getting hearty cheers.’ He looked directly at Kassandros. ‘Then we might have to, how should I put it? Poke the embers of rumour?’

  ‘You wouldn’t. Especially when you know that I had nothing to do with Alexander’s death.’

  ‘Do I, though? Do I really know that you had nothing to do with it?’ Seleukos looked at Peithon. ‘Do you, Peithon?’

  Peithon frowned, his slow mind turning at full speed. ‘I don’t know.’ He frowned again. ‘Do I?’

  ‘Never mind. Antigenes, what about you?’

  ‘At the moment I know that he had nothing to do with it,’ Antigenes asserted, but then raised a warning finger. ‘But if he were to come between us and our lads again, as he did just now, then new evidence might well come to light.’

  ‘You bastards,’ Kassandros spat. ‘People from country families like you, bumpkins with sheep shit on your cocks, threatening me, the son of the regent of Macedon; how dare you?’

  ‘How dare we?’ Seleukos looked incredulous. ‘My father, Antiochus, was one of Philip’s generals, as was Peithon’s father, Creteuas. Antigenes may have worked his way up from the ranks but is now highly respected throughout the army; don’t forget that until recently he was one of Krateros’ senior officers and you don’t climb much higher than that in this army. We dare threaten you, Kassandros, because for all your father’s fine words about peace and cooperation, we don’t like you wheedling your way into favour with our men; we don’t want you gaining their loyalty and we don’t want you becoming a contender. Another contender is not what the empire needs at this time.’ He held out his hand. ‘The ring, please.’

  Kassandros looked shocked. ‘What?’

  ‘Alexander’s ring, please. Don’t play dumb; I know you’ve got it. We three came out of Perdikkas’ tent leaving him dying with his ring still on his finger, but when we had the body removed it was gone. I looked for you outside as I was addressing my men and you were absent, only to suddenly appear behind me on the cart, coming from the direction of the tent. The ring, please.’

  Kassandros did not move.

  ‘You’re a dead man if you try to leave this tent with it; we killed Perdikkas today, Kassandros. For all his faults he was a great man in many ways. I don’t think any of us would notice the passing of a turd like you. The ring!’

  Slowly Kassandros opened a pouch on his belt, his eyes blazing his fury at Seleukos. He pulled out the Great Ring of Macedon, indented with the sixteen-point star-blazon, weighed it in his hand and then tossed it at Seleukos as if it were of little consequence.

  Seleukos grabbed the ring out of the air.

  ‘Good evening, gentlemen,’ Ptolemy said as the guard let him and Arrhidaeus through the entrance. He cast his eyes around the company. ‘Nothing troubling you all, I hope? What was that that Kassandros just gave you? A ring, if I wasn’t mistaken? Rather a big one at that.’ He looked with exaggerated disapproval at Kassandros. ‘What was such a weak man doing with so big a ring?’

  Kassandros jumped to his feet. ‘Don’t you talk to me like that, Ptolemy!’

  ‘Like what?’ Ptolemy asked, surprised. ‘I was merely stating the facts: it is a big ring and you are a weak man. Not small like Eumenes, I grant you, but weak nonetheless. Why, you haven’t even killed your first wild boar.’

  Kassandros sneered. ‘You think that you’re all so clever and that you can bait me because I didn’t share in the greatest adventure of the age, because I stayed behind. Look at Kassandros, he’s a weakling. He hasn’t even killed a wild boar on a hunt let alone faced a Persian army in battle; he’s nothing but someone to jeer at. Well, I’ll tell you what, brave heroes: I may not have the right to recline at the dinner table because I’ve never taken my boar, and you might think that I feel the shame every meal, sitting upright on the couch like a youth with the first growth of hair on his lip. And you may suppose that I regret, every day, being left behind by Alexander because he could never tolerate me for the weakness that he – wrongly – perceived in me. But you would be mistaken because, you see, I don’t think the same way as you.’ He smiled, baring caninesque teeth. ‘I take no pleasure, nor hold any worth, in hunting or feats of valour on the field of battle, why should I? I’m not built for it as you all endlessly observe. My priorities are different and, gentlemen, soon you will find out that they are superior.’ He turned and walked from the tent without looking back.

  ‘That seemed to hit a nerve,’ Ptolemy remarked with a bemused look. He turned to Seleukos. ‘I assume that’s Alexander’s ring.’

  ‘It is,’ Seleukos said, holding it out to Ptolemy.

  ‘So I assume that Perdikkas is dead, seeing as he’s not here and yet the ring is.’

  ‘We had no choice.’

  Ptolemy took the ring and slipped it on the end of his forefinger. ‘What was Kassandros d
oing with it?’

  ‘He’d stolen it from Perdikkas’ corpse and thought that I wouldn’t notice.’

  ‘Had he now? I wonder what he meant to do with it; give it to his father or keep it for himself?’

  ‘Give it to his father, surely,’ Antigenes asserted.

  Ptolemy looked at the veteran, unconvinced, as he sat in Kassandros’ vacated chair. ‘After that little exhibition, I’m not so sure; I would speculate that the little weasel has high ambitions.’

  ‘Delusions of grandeur,’ Arrhidaeus said, also sitting.

  ‘Weakling!’ Peithon snapped.

  ‘Never underestimate a man who feels that he is alone against the rest of the world; Kassandros is one such like, if ever I saw one. Unfortunately, he can’t be got rid of without seriously upsetting his father and I’d say that is best avoided at the moment, wouldn’t you?’ He took the ring from his finger and leaned over to hand it back to Seleukos. ‘What are you going to do with it?’

  Seleukos glanced at his two companions, who both indicated acquiescence. ‘At the moment I hold it, but we had thought of offering the regency of the two kings to you.’

  ‘To me?’ Ptolemy laughed in genuine amusement. ‘And what would I do with the regency? Why would I want to bother myself with that burden when I already have Egypt and Cyrenaica? What possible pleasure could I get from having a toddler along with its vicious, poisoning mother, as well as an idiot and his ambitious queen under my protection?’

  Seleukos’ face betrayed genuine surprise. ‘But we thought you would be grateful.’

  ‘Grateful? Grateful enough to offer you Babylonia? Is that what you hoped?’ Ptolemy grinned at the sight of Seleukos’ discomfiture. ‘Come, Seleukos, you don’t really imagine that I want to set myself up as a second Perdikkas, do you? No one can hold the empire together as he proved so convincingly. No, Seleukos, I’ll be happy for you to have Babylonia, and I know that is what you want as I’ve watched – and been impressed by – your manoeuvring to becoming the obvious choice to take it when Perdikkas inevitably fell; but you won’t get it from my hands. You keep the ring and give yourself Babylonia.’

  Seleukos looked at the ring and then back to Ptolemy. ‘I don’t want it.’

  ‘Of course you don’t; for the same reason as I don’t. So let us come to an elegant solution, you and I: let us appoint deputies, one each who will share the regency; if I were you I would nominate Peithon as I believe he owes you a big favour for the way you massacred those twenty thousand Greeks before he was tempted to incorporate them into his army and go into open rebellion. As he owes you his life it is the least he can do.’

  Peithon scowled.

  Seleukos contemplated the notion for a moment, smiling. ‘Of course, Peithon would be perfect because he is so unsuited to the position.’

  ‘But he’ll do until a full council can convene. I believe Antipatros has summoned you all to The Three Paradises, you can all decide then who should be regent together.’

  ‘“You”? Surely you mean “we”?’

  ‘No, Seleukos, I mean you. I won’t be going. In fact, I don’t think I’ll ever leave Egypt again unless to travel to one of her domains. I have all I need. And Peithon can give you what you want.’

  Seleukos nodded. ‘All he has to do is to confer Babylon on me and then Antipatros will find it impossible to take it away unless he wants to go against the spirit of cooperation that he is hoping to achieve at The Three Paradises.’

  ‘Exactly. And your position will be made so much the stronger by an endorsement from my nomination: Arrhidaeus.’

  ‘What!’ Arrhidaeus turned to Ptolemy in alarm. ‘Why do you choose me?’

  ‘By way of thanking you, of course; you surrender your part of the regency to Antipatros and he will reward you with a satrapy, something I can’t do. I’m sure there’ll be a vacancy soon; in fact, we both know that one has already become free.’

  Arrhidaeus’ eyes widened. ‘Ah.’

  Seleukos frowned. ‘What? What do you know that you aren’t telling us?’

  Ptolemy shrugged. ‘Well, I suppose you would have found out sooner or later, but eight days ago Eumenes defeated and killed Krateros.’

  Seleukos, Antigenes and Peithon stared, incredulous, at Ptolemy.

  Seleukos was the first to recover. ‘That’s impossible.’

  ‘Evidently not. To make it all the more impressive, Neoptolemus changed sides; Eumenes captured his army’s baggage and then killed Neoptolemus in single combat before taking the combined army on to face Krateros. Apparently he didn’t let his Macedonian troops know who they were facing; Krateros fell to his Asian cavalry. Now he’s dead, the satrapy of Hellespontine Phrygia is vacant.’

  ‘But if Perdikkas and we had known that his cause had won in the north…’

  ‘He probably wouldn’t be dead now. I know; that’s why I kept it from you.’

  Seleukos’ huge frame tensed with anger. ‘You scheming bastard!’

  ‘Am I? Perhaps I am. I’m certainly a bastard and I suppose I could be accused of scheming. But I had to make sure that we could all talk sensibly: had Perdikkas known of Eumenes’ victory it wouldn’t have made much difference to his position, other than to have strengthened his unwillingness to negotiate; but you three would certainly have been much more averse to assassinating him. In fact, I don’t think that you would have.’

  ‘You forced us to kill him.’

  ‘I wouldn’t say forced but, yes, I did do my best to ensure that you would if he proved to be intransigent. And I think that we’ll all find that it was for the best. Now, shall we eat? I’m tired as I fought and won a battle today and in the morning I have to address your men.’

  ADEA.

  THE WARRIOR.

  IT WAS MORE imperative than ever that she should conceive now; her life depended on it. Adea cursed the necessity that was so repugnant to her. In the six months that she had been married to King Philip and become Queen Eurydike, she had only allowed him to cover her at the height of her cycle every month and each time the experience brought her to the point of vomiting: the masculine stench, the bestial grunting, the drool flowing from his slack lips dripping onto her buttocks and the humiliation of kneeling before him as he grunted his way to his pleasure, with no thought of her own; none of the tenderness that she found in the female lovers that she took to her bed throughout the rest of the month. Still, it was better than lying on her back and having to endure his breath as well.

  But now she knew that she would have to resign herself to the experience more than just once a month, for if what Seleukos had said was the truth – and she had no reason to disbelieve it – then she really did need the weapon of a child, a son. A son who could claim to be the grandson of Philip, the second of that name, on the father’s side and his great grandson on her side; a pure-blooded, royal prince of the Argead royal house of Macedon. Never again would it be possible for someone such as Perdikkas – a man of distant royal blood – to seek to marry Kleopatra and make himself king through her weak, female inheritance. Her son with her idiot of a husband would have the strongest claim to being Alexander’s heir; stronger even than his own son and namesake through that eastern wild-cat, her deadly rival, Roxanna, for she was from far-off Bactria and no Macedonian blood flowed through her veins. The younger Alexander would have to wait at least ten years before he could sire a child, and a lot could happen to a person in ten years. And Roxanna will be only too aware of that fact. Adea looked over to her husband, thirty-eight years old but with the mind of an eight-year-old, sitting in the corner playing with a carved wooden elephant, trumpeting and drooling in equal measure as his personal physician, Tychon, watched over with a look of indulgence on his lined face. Roxanna will redouble her efforts to poison Philip now that Perdikkas is not around to keep her in check, if only I knew what he had on her that she feared him so. Adea swiped the whetstone along the blade she honed, enjoying the metallic rasp of sharpening iron. I wish Mother was still with me, she would
know how to keep that man-child safe as her mother had kept her safe from Olympias in her turn. Her idiot husband had been made imbecilic as a child by Alexander’s mother, Olympias, attempting to remove another rival wife; the dose she had given her pregnant victim had been insufficient to kill the child she bore, but it had done a decent-enough job.

  But Cynnane, her mother, was dead and Adea, at seventeen, had to fend for herself in a man’s world. Her mother, however, had brought Adea up in the ancient way of Illyrian princesses for Cynnane had been sired by Philip of Macedon on Audata, a princess of Illyrian Dardania, given in marriage to seal a treaty. Audata had taught Cynnane the art of the blade, in all its forms, and, in turn, Cynnane had passed this knowledge on to Adea. It was with her skill at weapons and her size – as tall and broad as a man and with muscles to match – that Cynnane had hoped Adea would survive when she had sought to marry her to Philip and make a bid for empire. But Cynnane had been killed by Perdikkas’ younger brother, Alketas, as he attempted to turn the two women back before they reached Babylon.

  Such was the outcry from Alexander’s veterans that a half-sister of his should be murdered in cold blood that Perdikkas had been forced to allow the marriage to go ahead against his wishes. Thus Adea became a queen and thus she had earnt the everlasting enmity of the deadly Roxanna, so free with her potions.

  But what good was a blade against the poisoner’s draught? Roxanna had already managed to poison Philip once but had been coerced into administering the antidote by Perdikkas; who would have that power over the eastern bitch now?

  It was with heavy heart and dragging legs that Adea set down her blade, walked over to her husband, took his hand and led him to her bed, screened off from the rest of the tent. Tychon followed and together they undressed Philip who panted with excitement for he knew what treat was in store for him and being the possessor of a prodigious penis took great pleasure in wielding it. Removing Philip’s loincloth, Adea massaged the organ to ensure its readiness as Tychon held his charge, restraining him in the way that he and Adea had evolved over the months to make the act safe for her, as Philip knew not his strength, nor had he empathy with his partner. Indeed, two unfortunate slaves had bled to death in his early years.