Alexander picked up where he had left off: ‘It will not take long for news of Philip’s death to spread everywhere because the assassination took place in the presence of thousands of people. The reactions that it will inevitably provoke are difficult to predict, but we must be ready to move equally rapidly to prevent anything and everything that might weaken the realm or threaten my father’s achievements in any way. This is my plan.
‘We must gather intelligence on the state of the northern borders, on the reaction of our new Athenian and Theban allies and …” at this point he turned to Philotas with a knowing look, ‘on the intentions of the generals who command our expedition to Asia Attalus
and Parmenion. Since they have at their disposal an army of fifteen thousand men, it makes sense to clarify their intentions immediately.’
‘What are you thinking of doing?’ asked Philotas with a certain degree of apprehension in his voice.
‘I don’t want to put any of you in difficult positions: I will give my message to a Greek officer by the name of Hecataeus, who is in our service in the Straits area with a small division. I have decided to relieve Attalus of his command and I am sure you will all understand the reasoning behind that.’
No one objected. Indeed, the scene that had been played out a year previously at Philip’s wedding was still vivid in their memories.
‘I believe,’ said Alexander, ‘that the consequences of the King’s death will soon make themselves felt. Some people will see this as an opportunity to move backwards in time, to restore old ways, and we will have to persuade them that they are wrong. Only once we have dealt with this danger will we be able to start again with my father’s plans.’
Alexander fell silent and at that moment everyone realized that time had in fact stopped, that in this very room a future beyond anyone’s imagination was being prepared. The young man Philip had had educated and groomed through years of hard work and sacrifice now sat on the Argead throne and, for the first time in his life, the devastating power that he had only ever seen wielded by the heroes in epic poems now rested firmly in his hands.
Alexander went with his namesake brother-in-law to Aegae, leaving command of the various units of the phalanx and the Hetairoi cavalry to his friends, while Hephaestion was entrusted with the royal palace. Philip still had to be buried and there were other serious matters to be dealt with in the old capital.
Halfway there they met a messenger who had been sent by Eumenes with an urgent despatch.
‘It is just as well I found you, Sire!’ exclaimed the messenger, handing him a sealed roll of papyrus. ‘Eumenes wants you to read it immediately.’
Alexander unrolled it and read the succinct message:
Eumenes to Alexander, King of Macedon, Hail!
Eurydice’s baby boy has been found dead in his cradle and I fear for the life of Eurydice herself.
Queen Olympias arrived here the night you left for Pella.
You must come immediately.
Take good care.
‘My mother arrived there immediately after we left? Did you know about that?’ Alexander asked his brother-in-law.
The King of Epirus shook his head. ‘She said nothing to me when I left Buthrotum, but I never thought she really intended to go to the wedding. For her it was another affront. She thought this was Philip’s way of alienating her completely, since I would be formally obliged to provide him with security for his western borders following the wedding. I never thought she really meant to join me at Aegae.’
‘In any case, she’s there now. And it appears she has taken some very drastic initiatives. Let’s move, before she does something completely irreparable,’ said Alexander, and he spurred Bucephalas into a gallop.
They reached Aegae the following evening, as the sun was setting, and from a distance they could hear heart-rending cries coming from the palace. Eumenes came to meet them at the entrance.
‘She’s been crying like that for two days. She says it was your mother who killed her boy. And she refuses to relinquish the body. But time passes and … you can imagine
‘Where is she?’
‘In the southern wing,’ replied Eumenes. ‘Come with me.’
Alexander nodded to his bodyguard to follow and strode through the palace, every sector of which was heavily guarded by armed soldiers. Many of them were from Epirus members
of his brother-in-law’s escort.
‘Who posted them all here?’
‘Your mother, the Queen,’ replied Eumenes as he walked, breathless, behind Alexander.
As they approached, the wailing became louder. Now and then it would explode into raucous shouting, then fade into a long, drawn-out sobbing.
They came to the door and Alexander opened it without hesitating, but what he found in the room froze him instantly. Eurydice was lying in a corner, her hair dishevelled, her eyes swollen and red, a mad look in her eyes. She was holding the lifeless body of her baby to her breast. The boy’s head and arms dangled backwards and the blue colour of his limbs was a sure sign that decomposition had already started.
Her clothes were torn to shreds, her hair was plastered with dried blood, her face, her arms and legs were covered in bruises and cuts. The whole room exuded a revolting stench of sweat, urine and putrefaction.
Alexander dosed his eyes for an instant and saw Eurydice at the height of her splendour as she sat alongside the King his father a
young girl who was loved, spoiled, envied by everyone. He felt the horror rise in his mind and wrath fill his chest and the veins in his neck.
He turned to Eumenes and asked, his voice cracking with anger, ‘Who did this?’
Eumenes lowered his head in silence.
Alexander shouted, ‘Who did this?’
‘I do not know.’
‘Call someone to take care of her immediately. Bring Philip, my physician, and tell him to attend to her, to give her something to make her rest … to make her sleep.’
He started to move away, but Eumenes held him back. ‘She won’t leave the child. What can we do?’
Alexander stopped and turned towards the girl, who crouched down even lower in the corner, like a frightened animal.
He moved towards her slowly and knelt down in front of her, his eyes fixed on hers. Gently he moved his head to one side as if to lessen slightly the strength of his gaze, as if to envelop her in an aura of compassion. Then he put out his hand and gently caressed her cheek.
Eurydice closed her eyes, leaned backwards until her head rested on the wall and let out a long, painful sigh.
Alexander held out his arms and said quietly, ‘Give him to me, Eurydice, give me the little one. He’s tired, don’t you think? We have to put him to bed.’
Two big tears slipped slowly down the young girl’s cheeks until they reached her lips. She whispered, ‘Sleep…’ and loosened her grip on the child’s body.
Alexander took him carefully, as if he really were asleep, and went out into the corridor.
Eumenes, in the meantime, had sent for a woman who arrived just then. ‘Give him to me, Sire,’ she said. Alexander put the baby in her arms and ordered, ‘Lay him alongside my father.’
‘Why?’ he shouted as he burst into the room. ‘Why?’
Queen Olympias stood there before him, her eyes burning with rage: ‘You dare enter my rooms armed?’
‘I am the King of Macedon!’ shouted Alexander. ‘And I go wherever and however I like! Why did you kill the child and why did you do those barbaric things to his mother? Who gave you the right?’
‘You are the King of Macedon precisely because that child is dead,’ replied Olympias impassively. ‘Isn’t that what you wanted? Have you forgotten how you fretted when you were afraid you had fallen out of Philip’s favour? Have you forgotten what you said to Attalus on the day of your father’s wedding?’
‘I haven’t forgotten, but I don’t kill children and I don’t attack defenceless women.’
‘There is no other way for a king. A king is always alone. There is no law which lays down who should succeed to the throne. Any group of noblemen could have decided to take the child under their wing and to govern in his name until he came of age. If that had happened, what would you have done?’
‘I would have fought to conquer the throne!’ ‘And how much blood would have been spilled? Answer me that! How many widows would be mourning their husbands, how many mothers their prematurely dead sons, how many fields would have been burned to cinders, how many villages and cities sacked and razed to the ground? And in any case the entire empire which Philip built at the cost of just as much blood and just as much destruction would have come apart at the seams.’
Alexander regained his composure, thunder rolling into his face as if the massacres and the mourning evoked by his mother suddenly weighed on him, all at once, depressing his spirit.
‘It is destiny,’ he replied. ‘It is destined that man should bear wounds and illnesses and pain and death before plunging into the void. But to act with honour and to be merciful whenever it is possible to do so … these things are in man’s power and they are real choices. This is the only dignity that is granted to man during his time on earth; the only light before the darkness of an endless night…’
the following day Eumenes announced to Alexander that Philip’s tomb was ready and that the funeral could now take place. In truth only the first part of the great sepulchre had been completed so quickly. A second chamber was envisaged to contain all the precious objects that would accompany the King on his journey to the beyond.
Philip was dressed in his finest clothes and a crown of gold oak leaves was placed on his head. His soldiers arranged the body on the funeral pyre. Two battalions of the phalanx and a squadron of Companions paid tribute.
They used wine to extinguish the flames and then wrapped the ashes and the bones in a purple and gold cloth in the shape of a Macedonian military cloak, a chlamys. The bundle was then placed in a solid gold chest with feet in the shape of lion’s paws and the sixteen-point Argead star on the lid.
Inside the tomb they arranged his breastplate, made of iron, leather and gold, his bronze greaves, his gold quiver, his parade shield lined with gold laminate and decorated with a Dionysian scene of satyrs and maenads, carved in ivory. His weapons his
sword and his spearhead were
thrown into the altar fire and then ritually bent so that they could never be used again.
Alexander deposited his personal tributes: a magnificent jug of solid silver, its handle adorned with a bearded satyr’s head, and a two-handled silver cup of such beauty and lightness that it seemed weightless.
The entrance to the sepulchre was closed with a huge double door made of marble, flanked by two Doric pilasters, reproductions of the entrance to the royal palace at Aegae, while an artist from Byzantium was working on a frieze depicting fine hunting scenes on the architrave.
Queen Olympias did not attend the funeral rites because she did not want to make any votive offering on her husband’s pyre or in his tomb and because she did not want to meet Eurydice. Alexander cried when the soldiers closed the great marble doors; he had loved his father and he felt that his own youth was being buried in that tomb.
Eurydice simply gave up, she never ate again and died of hunger together with young Europa, her daughter. Philip the physician tried everything he possibly could, but it was all in vain.
Alexander had a fine tomb built for her as well and gave instructions that the throne his father used when sitting as a judge under the oak tree at Aegae should be placed inside. It was splendid, with golden griffins and sphinxes and a four-horse chariot painted on the backrest. His duty done, his soul full of sadness, Alexander returned to Pella.
General Antipater was an officer of Philip’s old guard, loyal to the throne and completely reliable. Alexander had given him the job of keeping track of Hecataeus’ mission in Asia to Parmenion and Attalus, and he was most anxious about the outcome.
He knew that the barbarians of the north the
Triballians and the Illyrians who had recently been quashed by his father could
rise up at any moment, and that the Greeks had accepted the Corinth peace pact only because of the massacre at Chaeronaea. He was also aware that all of his enemies, Demosthenes in particular, were still alive and kicking, and then there was the fact that Attalus and Parmenion had control of the Straits and were leading an expeditionary force of fifteen thousand men.
As if these threats were not enough, news had reached him about Persian agents having made contact with anti-Macedonian
groups in Athens and offering enormous sums of money for anyone who was able and willing to instigate uprisings.
Instability was rife and if all these potential problems were to materialize into real problems at one and the same time, the new King would find himself in serious difficulty.
The first response to his questions came at the beginning of autumn. Antipater immediately asked for an audience with the King and Alexander received him in the study which had been his father’s. Although a military man through and through, Antipater did not enjoy making a show of his status and he normally dressed just like any ordinary citizen. This fact was a manifestation of his equilibrium and self-confidence.
‘Sire,’ he announced on entering the room, ‘here is the news from Asia: Attalus refused to cede command and to return to Pella, he put up armed resistance and was killed. Parmenion assures you of his loyalty.’
‘Antipater, I would like to know what you really think of Parmenion. You know that his son Philotas is here at court. In some way Parmenion might consider him my hostage. In your opinion is this what lies behind his declaration of loyalty?’
