The Three Paradises

by Robert Fabbri

‘Lost his little flask of oil!’ they shouted in unison.

  Eumenes suppressed his laughter and put on an exaggeratedly serious face. ‘I think a few inspiring words from the new commander-in-chief of Asia should hearten them for a march across the Taurus Mountains down into Cilicia, don’t you?’

  ‘I still wish I could have seen Antigonos’ face when he was told; have you heard how he took it?’

  ‘He lost his little flask of oil!’

  This set them both off again. Once mirth had been controlled, Eumenes managed an answer: ‘I’ve heard nothing of him since he ran Arrhidaeus to ground in Cius and thwarted his attempt at relieving me in Nora, before I swore the oath. I would be more interested in seeing his face when Leonidas told him exactly what oath I’d sworn. Still, that’s all by the by: he’s the outlaw and I have right and the kings on my side as well as, I should add, the treasury. Pack your things, my friend, we’re going to the bank.’

  It was light of foot that Eumenes ascended the steps up to the rostrum set before his parading army. In fact, for the previous three days, since he had received Polyperchon’s most surprising letter, he had done everything with a light touch. At first he had not believed the letter was genuine, even though its bearer was known to Eumenes to have been with Polyperchon since he had returned west with Krateros; however, the more he thought about it, the more Polyperchon’s offer had made sense: it gave the embattled regent an ally in Asia and at the same time outlawed Antigonos; it was a master stroke and something he would have done had he been in Polyperchon’s position. He also would have accidentally neglected to lift the death sentence hanging over him – a neat little trick – just in case Polyperchon had a change of mind and needed to be rid of the new power in Asia. All in all very pleasing, he reflected as he surveyed his army, drawn up on blocks. Not much of an army; in fact, six thousand men should be called a detachment not an army. Still, the mercenaries will come flocking to me when I prise open the doors of Cyinda. The question is: how do I deal with Antigenes, a prime example of the un-complex Macedonian military mind, if ever there was one?

  The question dwelt foremost in his thoughts for the first few days of the march south, climbing into the Taurus range and then picking up the River Carmalas as it wound its way down into Cilicia.

  It was as they descended into the foothills of the southern side of the range that the urgency of finding a solution became paramount: Parmida – left behind with his five hundred Kappadokian cavalry as a rear guard in Kappadokia – caught up with the column, coming straight to Eumenes to report. ‘According to my scouts, Menander was a couple of days away from Kappadokia with a force of five thousand when we left; he’ll be there by now.’

  Eumenes digested this piece of news, riding at ease on his mare. ‘That means that Antigonos has heard of Polyperchon’s offer and has, rightly, assumed that I would accept it and therefore sent a force to arrest me or, perhaps, even kill me. If I were him it would certainly be the latter.’ He turned to Hieronymus, riding – with far less ease – next to him. ‘I’d say that Antigonos has made the first aggressive move.’

  ‘You don’t count accepting Polyperchon’s offer and then heading to Cilicia as aggressive?’

  ‘How could it be? I’m just obeying the wishes of Polyperchon, the regent of the rightful kings of Macedon, and in doing so I am in no way attacking Antigonos.’

  ‘Neither are you breaking your oath as it was made also to the kings.’ Hieronymus chortled; it was rough in his throat. ‘Did I mention that you have a reputation for being sly?’

  ‘And little, and a Greek; I wonder which one is the most offensive to the gallant Macedonian military mind?’

  ‘But you’re a Greek,’ Antigenes said as Eumenes presented Polyperchon’s warrant to him at the gates of Cyinda, a fortress not unlike Nora, clinging to a bare rock above the Carmalas valley no great distance from Tarsus.

  Ah, I thought that would be the main objection. ‘Which is why the regent has seen fit to appoint me to the position: as a Greek I cannot challenge for the throne and therefore can be trusted with the powers and the money he has given me, unlike Antigonos who has abused his position for his own gain.’

  Antigenes looked again at the warrant and scratched the back of his head. ‘So not only do I have to let you withdraw five hundred talents in silver or gold but it says here that I have to place myself and my Silver Shields under your command.’

  ‘Well, seeing as I’ve been appointed Commander-in-Chief of Asia, by the regent of the two kings of Macedon and you and your lads are in Asia then I would have thought that to be a perfectly logical thing to do.’

  Antigenes gave the warrant to the officer standing next to him, a middle-aged veteran with a scar from where his left ear was no more, to where much of his nose should have been. ‘What do you make of it, Teutamus?’

  Teutamus took the warrant and read it, saying the words out loud, slow and deliberate; he shrugged when he had finally finished and frowned down at Eumenes. ‘He’s a bit little to be Commander-in-Chief of Asia, isn’t he?’

  Ah, there we have the second objection; how I value the Macedonian military mind. ‘That may well be true but what I might lack in height I make up for in slyness; now, gentlemen, I have come a long way. You have seen my documentation, please show me to my quarters; my men will camp down in the valley. We will inspect the treasury together after I have refreshed myself.’

  Xennias looked apologetic as he walked into Eumenes’ room. ‘They said they are not going to come to you, you have to come to them.’

  ‘Oh, so we’re going to play that little game again, are we? How very grown up we are.’ Eumenes put down the treasury inventory – which had made for riveting reading this past half hour – got to his feet and walked to the window, looking out over his army making camp down in the valley. ‘Well, if I give in and go to them then I’ll be the one seen as being weak. What to do? What to do?’ He clasped his hands behind his back and took in the view as he contemplated. ‘Tell them,’ he said eventually, ‘that I have decided not to call a meeting before visiting the treasury and instead I will go straight there and we shall discuss matters as we make our tour.’ He turned to Xennias. ‘That should appease Macedonian pride, I would think.’

  Xennias smiled. ‘They’re old warhorses those two; they would only bow their heads to the king.’

  ‘I am the representative of the kings.’

  ‘You misunderstand me, sir: I said the king, singular; Alexander himself, not the babe and the fool – as they see it – who have taken his place.’

  Eumenes nodded his understanding and walked to the door. ‘Then we shall have to create the right conditions for them, shan’t we?’

  But his annoyance with the two men commanding the Silver Shields was temporarily forgotten at the sight of so much wealth glinting in the light of the torches that each of the three held; it seemed as if the hoards of the entire world had been gathered together in one place such was its magnitude: strong-room after strong-room along a corridor, at least a hundred paces long, were filled with crates of coinage, silver and gold bullion, bowls of precious stones – including a ruby so large that Eumenes could not close his fist around it – solid gold and silver statues, plate, furniture and Alexander’s ceremonial weapons and armour as well as other trifles in ivory, coloured glass and bronze. ‘The wealth of the entire empire,’ Eumenes whispered, awestruck by what he was witnessing.

  ‘And beyond,’ Antigenes said, in a matter-of-fact tone.

  ‘You wouldn’t even notice the five hundred talents that I’m authorised to withdraw.’

  ‘Not at all.’

  ‘Not that I’m going to withdraw it.’

  Antigenes frowned. ‘But you have a signed warrant saying that you may.’

  ‘I know; but what would I do with all that money? No, I’ll take enough to hire a decent amount of mercenaries to bolster my army – our army, I should say, seeing as you and your lads are now a part of it.’

  ‘But you
could be a very wealthy man.’

  I know, and believe me, my fine friend, it’s hurting to do this but I need to show you that I am not in this war just for myself. ‘If I need any more, I’ll come back for it; until then box up a hundred talents in silver coinage and let us start to make it known that we are recruiting on very generous terms as we move south to take back what Ptolemy’s stolen of Syria for the kings.’

  ‘And who says that is what we’re going to do?’ Antigenes asked, his voice belligerent.

  ‘Alexander does, he told me in a dream.’ Eumenes’ reply caused both Antigenes and Teutamus to stare at him with something approaching religious awe. ‘Yes, my friends, I have had a couple of dreams where Alexander has guided me in recent nights and he has suggested this: we should revert to doing what Perdikkas did in the first few days after Alexander’s death, before things went too far; we should set up his throne in his tent and take our deliberations in its shadow so that everything that we decide will have his blessing and he will be our overall commander; he will, once again, be with us.’

  ‘But we haven’t got a throne,’ Teutamus pointed out.

  Well done; full marks for paying attention and getting to the nub of the problem. I can see why you have risen so high in the Silver Shields’ ranks. Eumenes put the tips of his fingers to his forehead. ‘Thank the gods you are with us, Teutamus, I had completely neglected that point. What would you suggest?’ He looked around at all the crates of gold and silver bullion piled up all around. ‘I’m sure there must be a way of complying with Alexander’s wishes.’

  Teutamus followed Eumenes’ gaze and scratched his head.

  ‘We could make one,’ Antigenes said, his face brightening with inspiration.

  Eumenes looked disbelieving. ‘Make one?’

  ‘Yes, make one, Eumenes.’ Antigenes went to a crate and lifted the lid; he pulled out a bar of gold. ‘We’ll have one cast from solid gold.’

  ‘Solid gold,’ Eumenes exclaimed. ‘Surely that would be very heavy to carry around with us; we are going on campaign after all.’

  ‘Then we’ll have a gilded one made and on it will lie his ceremonial sword and breastplate.’

  ‘Brilliant!’ Eumenes said, with a look of wonder on his face at the sheer cunningness of the plan. ‘And I will add one refinement. I have his diadem.’

  ‘What, the one that went missing whilst he was lying in state?’

  ‘The very same.’

  ‘But…’

  ‘But I stole it? No, I didn’t; I borrowed it as it was unattended at the time and I thought that one day it could become useful; like today, for example. Have the throne made overnight, nothing too fancy, and we will meet before it tomorrow morning when I shall return to Alexander his diadem.’

  ‘May you guide and inspire us,’ Eumenes said with as much reverence as he could muster for the farce, placing the diadem on the throne that stood at the end of the table set in the centre of what was now, officially, Alexander’s Tent. But farce or no, the ploy had worked to a remarkable degree: the men, both Eumenes’ and Antigenes’ Silver Shields, had gathered in clumps around the tent talking in whispers so as not to disturb Alexander’s spirit which they firmly believed resided within. This had been re-affirmed when they saw his ceremonial cuirass and sword – a magnificent weapon, the pace of a tall man long, with a leaf-like blade a hand-span at its widest – being taken with all due ceremony from the treasury to the tent; now they truly believed that Eumenes might the issue the orders but those orders came directly from Alexander himself, albeit, his ghost.

  And Eumenes was determined to take full advantage of their gullibility.

  With the diadem lying on the throne’s seat, the sword resting against it and the cuirass hanging over its back, the gilded throne did have a degree of mystery about it, Eumenes conceded as he took his place at the table to Alexander’s right. And if that was to help him in his purpose then all was well and good. Antigenes and Xennias sat opposite him whilst Teutamus and Parmida were seated on his sides, splitting the factions up as ‘Alexander had wanted’.

  ‘So, gentlemen,’ Eumenes said, looking not at his companions but, rather, at the ghost’s throne, ‘from today we start to win back for Alexander’s son and brother, his two rightful heirs, the territory that has been taken from them.’

  ‘And you’re proposing,’ Antigenes said, ‘that we take the army south against Ptolemy’s garrisons in Syria and Phoenicia?’

  Eumenes raised a placating hand. ‘I’m proposing nothing, Antigenes. I am merely suggesting, in Alexander’s name, that we do that as it would be what he wants.’

  Antigenes frowned but nodded his agreement. ‘And where should we strike first?’

  ‘We, that is, Alexander, needs the ports so that this army and that of Polyperchon in Greece can eventually link up. So we are going to need a larger navy. How many ships do we have at present in Tarsus?’

  Teutamus put his hand up with surprising child-like eagerness.

  Eumenes gave the benevolent look of a grammaticus pleased with an improving pupil. ‘Yes, Teutamus?’

  ‘I was there a few days ago and there were about a dozen triremes and a few biremes being used to keep down the pirates who are springing up again along the coast now that there are so many mercenaries looking for employment.’

  ‘Then we will solve two problems by expanding the navy: we will be employing more mercenaries and taking away from them the temptation to go for a pirate and also we will have a stronger force to deal with those pirates that refuse to come and serve in our navy.’ He looked at the throne and cocked his head as if he were trying to hear something more clearly and then nodded. ‘We should be prepared to march south the day after tomorrow; Teutamus, you will stay in Tarsus recruiting mercenaries for the army and the navy whilst we head south into Phoenicia and take his ship-building ports and all his half-built ships off Ptolemy’s hands.’

  PTOLEMY.

  THE BASTARD.

  ‘IT IS A magnificent sight,’ Ptolemy agreed, placing his arm around Thais as they walked along the main quay of the great harbour, the Sidon harbour, of Tyros lined with ships all smelling of freshly hewn timber and swarming with men provisioning them. ‘One hundred and thirty-three of them so far and nothing smaller than a trireme; and there are still plenty more under construction. My ship-builders have been busy this season, up and down this coast using some of the finest wood available, cedar for the hulls, masts and decks, oak for the keels and fir for the oars, all very rare in Egypt and although there are reasonable amounts of those materials in Cyprus, I think it much better to utilise someone else’s, don’t you agree, my dearest?’

  Thais took his hand from her shoulder and kissed it as a unit of marines doubled past them, heading for a mighty quinquereme. ‘And now you have built a second navy what are you going to do with it?’

  ‘It’s a third navy, actually. Well, fourth if you count the smaller one based at Apollonia in Cyrenaica.’ He paused to let a victualling party, loaded with kegs, cross his path, their overseer bowing his respects as Ptolemy’s dozen bodyguards tensed, the hands resting on the sword-hilts. ‘One back at Alexandria, one over in Cyprus and then this one will stay here in Tyros, controlling this coast so that even if I let the interior towns and the lesser ports go, it won’t matter as I will still have the largest navy in the vicinity with the ability to supply it, safe in a harbour city that took Alexander, himself, two years to defeat.’

  ‘I didn’t ask where it was, I can see that perfectly well for myself; I asked: what are you going to do with it?’

  ‘Ah, that is a good question and one I really didn’t know the answer to until very recently; I just had it built because I could and I thought I should.’

  ‘So what was this epiphany?’

  ‘Well, I had a letter from Kassandros, who’s recently arrived in Athens in a fleet borrowed from Antigonos; he was requesting that I support his claim to the regency. Personally I can’t think of anyone – or thing, for tha
t matter – more unsuited to the title than that poisonous toad, but he does have his uses: one of them is his ability to hate almost as intensely as Olympias; and as he hated Alexander to the core of his being, Kassandros would not worry, like every other Macedonian would, that Olympias was his mother and will, therefore, have no compunction in killing her. He’s the only one who can and someone has to soon.’

  ‘Why?’ Thais asked as they moved aside for fifteen groups of rowers, eight in each, making up a trireme’s complement, with their oars on their shoulders, to snake past.

  ‘Apart from the fact that she is a ruthless, cruel and vindictive serpent?’

  ‘Yes, apart from the obvious reasons.’

  ‘Because Polyperchon has offered her power; Kassandros told me that, according to Adea, who has deserted Polyperchon for Kassandros, taking her pet idiot with her, Polyperchon has invited Olympias to oversee the upbringing of the young Alexander so that he matures into a Macedonian king rather than some luxury-loving, twisted easterner. A noble sentiment, I think you’ll agree; but he couldn’t have chosen a worse person for the job: Olympias will turn Macedon into a bloodbath of vengeance.’

  ‘Why should you care what she does?’

  ‘Because her ambition will be limitless: she will lay claim to the whole empire in the name of her grandson. And the trouble is that she’s the only person who could stand a chance of uniting all the various armies under one banner: Alexander’s banner; Alexander in the form of his son and mother. There is no place for me in that scenario. Nor is there for Antigonos, Kassandros, Seleukos or anyone else you care to name. No, she has to be stopped before she goes too far or everything that was gained at The Three Paradises will be under threat.’

  ‘I thought The Three Paradises agreement was in tatters.’

  Ptolemy contemplated the remark as he watched another newly built trireme glide through the harbour mouth to join the fleet. One hundred and thirty-four. ‘Not at all: I still have Egypt; Seleukos is now in Babylon; Peucestas remains in Persis, as does Lysimachus in Thrace and Eumenes is still an outlaw. The gods alone know what Peithon is up to in Media, but, nevertheless, there he is and Antigonos carries on as the commander-in-chief of the army of Asia – although he does seem to be taking the law into his own hands by removing satraps he doesn’t like and replacing them with allies, but that’s a matter for the future. For now the only thing that has changed markedly is the status of Macedon; the rest of us still remain in our personal paradises and I for one am prepared to help that most unpleasant man if it helps me to remain thus.’