‘No,’ replied the old general with no hesitation whatsoever. ‘I know Parmenion very well. He is fond of you, he has always loved you, ever since you were a child and you used to come and sit on your father’s knees during the war councils in the royal armoury.’
Alexander suddenly remembered the rhyme he used to sing every time he saw Parmenion’s white hair:
The silly old soldier’s off to the war And falls to the floor, falls to the floor!
He felt a deep sadness come over him as he considered how power can dramatically change relations between people.
Antipater continued, ‘But if you have doubts about the matter there is one way to satisfy them.’
‘Send Philotas to him.’
‘Exactly, since his other two children, Nicanor and Hector, are already there with him.’
‘That’s what I’ll do. I’ll send him Philotas with a letter calling him back to Pella. I need him, I think there’s a storm about to break out.’
‘That sounds like a very wise decision, Sire. Parmenion appreciates one thing above all others trust.’
‘What news from the north?’
‘Bad news. There is an uprising among the Triballians and they have burned some of our frontier outposts.’
‘What do you think I should do?’
‘I have had warnings sent. If they should ignore them, hit them as hard as you can.’
‘Of course. And from the south?’
‘Nothing good there either. The anti-Macedonian wing is growing in strength everywhere, even in Thessaly. You are very young and there are some who think
‘Spit it out, Antipater.’
‘They think you’re just a boy with no experience and that you’ll never manage to maintain Philip’s hegemony.’
‘They’ll have to eat their words.’
‘There is one other thing.’
‘What is it?’
‘Your cousin Archelaus
‘Continue,’ Alexander encouraged him, his expression becoming darker.
‘He has been involved in a hunting accident.’
‘Is he dead?’
Antipater nodded.
‘When my father succeeded to the throne, he spared both Archelaus and Amyntas, even although they were both then in the line of succession.’
‘It was a hunting accident, Sire,’ repeated Antipater impassively.
‘Where is Amyntas?’
‘Down below, in the guard house.’
‘He must not come to any harm; he was at my side immediately after the assassination of my father.’
Antipater nodded to show that he had understood and set off towards the door.
Alexander got up and stood there before Aristotle’s grand map he
had had it set up in his study. West and east were safe, looked after by Alexander of Epirus and Parmenion respectively, assuming he really could trust the old General. But the north and south still represented two serious threats. He had to strike as quickly as possible and in such a decisive way as to leave no doubts about the fact that the new King of Macedon was every bit as strong as Philip.
He went out onto the north-facing balcony and looked out towards the mountains where he had spent his exile. The forests were just beginning to change colour with the arrival of autumn and soon the first snow would be falling: all would be quiet up there until spring. For the moment the job in hand was to scare the Thessalians and the Thebans. He thought out a plan of action while he waited for Philotas and Parmenion to return from Asia.
He summoned his war council a few days after their return. ‘I will enter Thessaly with an army ready for war. I will make sure I am reconfirmed as Tagos, the tide my father enjoyed, and I will push on as far as the walls of Thebes,’ he announced. ‘I want the Thessalians to understand that they have a new leader, and as for the Thebans, I want to frighten them to death they
have to be aware of the fact that I can strike at will, whenever, however, wherever.’
‘But there is a problem,’ Hephaestion intervened. ‘The Thessalians have closed off the Vale of Tempe with fortifications to the left and right of the river. We are blocked.’
Alexander moved towards Aristotle’s map and indicated the mass of Mount Ossa and the precipice over the sea. ‘I know,’ he replied. ‘But we will pass through here.’
‘How?’ asked Ptolemy. ‘None of us has wings, or at least we didn’t last time I looked.’
‘We have mallets and chisels,’ replied Alexander. ‘We will cut a stairway in the rock itself. Have five hundred miners from Mount Pangaeos brought here the
best of them. Feed them well, give them clothes and shoes and promise them their freedom if they finish the job in ten days: they will work shifts, non-stop, from the sea upwards. The Thessalians won’t be able to see them.’
‘Are you serious?’ asked Seleucus.
‘I never joke during war councils. And now, let’s get moving.’
All those present looked at one another in amazement; it was obvious that no obstacle, no human or godly barrier would ever stop Alexander.
41
‘alexander’s ladder’ was ready in seven days and, under cover of darkness, the assault troops of the shieldsmen slipped onto the Plain of Thessaly without once raising their weapons.
A few hours later a messenger on horseback delivered the news to the Thessalian commander, but without any explanation because the simple truth was that at that point in time no one had any explanation to offer.
‘Are you telling me that we have a Macedonian army led by the King himself on our backs?’
‘Yes, Sir.’
‘And how do you think they managed that?’
‘No one knows, Sir, but the soldiers are certainly out there, and there are a lot of them.’
‘How many?’
‘Between three and five thousand, well equipped and armed. There are even some horses not
many, but there are some.’
‘It’s impossible. There’s no way through from the coastal side, and no way through the mountains either.’ The commander, whose name was Charidemus, was still speaking when one of his soldiers reported that two battalions of the phalanx and one squadron of the Hetairoi cavalry were coming up the river towards the fortification. This meant that before nightfall they would be crushed between two armies. Shortly afterwards, another soldier came to inform him that a Macedonian officer by the name of Craterus had asked to parley.
‘Tell him I’ll be with him immediately,’ ordered Charidemus, and he left through a back door to go and meet the Macedonian.
‘My name is Craterus,’ the officer introduced himself, ‘and I am here to ask you to let us pass through your territory now. We have no desire to harm you, we simply want to rejoin our King and his men who are in your territory and are on their way to Larissa, where he will summon a council of the Thessalian League.’
‘I don’t have much choice,’ said Charidemus.
‘No, it’s true, you don’t,’ replied Craterus.
‘Very well, let’s negotiate. But there is something I’d like to know.’
‘If I can, I will provide an answer,’ Craterus declared in a very formal tone.
‘How did your infantry manage to get here?’
‘We cut a stairway into the seaward face of Mount Ossa.’
‘A stairway?’
‘Yes. A throughway, a passage we required in order to maintain contact with our Thessalian allies.’
Charidemus was completely taken aback, but, as he himself had admitted, he had no option other than to let them through.
Two days later Alexander reached Larissa, summoned the council of the Thessalian League, and had himself confirmed as Tagos for life.
He then waited for the arrival of other divisions of his army so that they could proceed across Boeotia and parade under the walls of Thebes in a great show of strength.
‘I want no bloodshed,’ he stated. ‘But we must scare the living daylights out of them. You take care of it, Ptolemy.’
And so Ptolemy had the army line up in the same formation as at the Battle of Chaeronaea. He asked Alexander to put on the same armour his father had worn and made ready the gigantic war drum on wheels, drawn by four horses.
The grim drumbeat could be heard clearly from the walls of the city, within which, just a few days previously, the Thebans had made an attempt to storm the Macedonian garrison on the Cadmean citadel. Memories of their casualties and fear of the threatening army helped calm down the hotter heads, but it
wasn’t enough to quench fully the hatred and the desire for revenge.
‘Will this be enough?’ Alexander asked Hephaestion as they marched below Thebes.
‘For the moment. But don’t delude yourself. What will you do about the other cities where our garrisons have been ejected?’ ‘Nothing. I want to be the Greeks’ leader, not their tyrant. They must understand that I am not an enemy, that the enemy lies across the sea, the enemy is Persia who persists in denying the Greek cities of Asia their freedom.’
‘Is it true you’ve ordered an investigation into the death of your father?’
‘Yes, I’ve asked Callisthenes to deal with it.’ ‘And do you think he’ll get to the bottom of it?’ ‘I think he’ll do his best.’
‘And if he were to discover that the Greeks were responsible? The Athenians, for example?’
‘I’ll decide what has to be done when the time comes.’ ‘Callisthenes has been seen with Aristotle, did you know about that?’ ‘Of course.’
‘And how do you explain the fact that Aristotle hasn’t come to speak to you in person?’
‘Speaking with me’ of late hasn’t been easy for anyone. Or perhaps he simply wants to maintain complete independence in evaluating the situation.’
The last division of the Companions disappeared with the thumping of the drum as it faded away and the Thebans held their important decision-making council. A letter from Demosthenes had arrived from Calauria, exhorting them not to give up hope and to prepare for the moment when they would rise up once more.
‘The throne of Macedon,’ he wrote, ‘is occupied by a little boy and the situation now is clearly in our favour ‘
The orator’s words pleased almost everyone, but there were some members of the Theban council who were inclined to be more prudent. An old man who had lost two sons at Chaeronaea asked to speak and said, ‘This “little boy”, as Demosthenes calls him, has reconquered Thessaly in three days without any combat whatsoever and has sent us a clear message with this parade under our walls. I think we should listen to him.’
But the angry voices that then made themselves heard from various quarters drowned out this invitation to reason, and the Thebans prepared to strike as soon as the opportunity arose.
Alexander reached Corinth completely unobstructed, summoned the council of the pan-Hellenic League and asked to be reconfirmed as general of the confederate armies.
From the chair that had once been his father’s, he issued a proclamation: ‘Each member state will be free to govern itself as it wishes and there will be no interference in its internal laws and its constitution. The only aim of the League is to free Asian Greeks from the Persian yoke and to maintain lasting peace among the Greeks of the peninsula.’
All the delegates signed the motion, with the exception of the Spartans, who hadn’t supported Philip’s previous motion either.
‘We have always been used to leading the Greeks, not to being led,’ their envoy declared to Alexander.
‘I am sorry,’ replied the King, ‘because the Spartans are magnificent soldiers. Today, however, the Macedonians are the strongest of all the Greek peoples and it is only right that they should be leaders and enjoy hegemony.’ But there was some regret in these words because he was well aware of Spartan valour at Thermopylae and Plataea. He was also fully aware that no power can ever resist the ravages of time the
only thing that grows over time is the glory of those who have lived honourably.
On the return journey Alexander visited Delphi and was greatly charmed and impressed by the wonders of the sacred
city. He stopped in front of the facade of the sanctuary of Apollo and studied the gilded words engraved there:
KNOW THYSELF
‘What do you think it means?’ asked Craterus who had never given much thought to philosophical questions before.
‘It’s obvious,’ replied Alexander. ‘To know ourselves is the most difficult of enterprises because it involves not reason alone, but our fears and our passions too. If we are capable of truly knowing ourselves then we will be able to understand others and the reality that surrounds us.’
They watched the long procession of the faithful who had come from all over bearing offerings and questions for the god. There was no part of the Greek world that did not have some representative there.
‘Do you believe the oracle tells the truth?’ Ptolemy asked.
‘My ears are still ringing with the answer it gave my father.’
‘It was an ambiguous answer,’ Hephaestion said.
‘But true in the end,’ replied Alexander. ‘If Aristotle were here he would say that prophecies can actually make the future come true, rather than predict it…”
‘That’s quite probable,’ Hephaestion nodded. ‘I once heard one of his lessons at Mieza: Aristotle trusts no one, not even the gods. For him everything is based on his own mind.’
Aristotle leaned back in his chair, interlocking his fingers with his hands resting on his belly. ‘And the oracle at Delphi? Have you thought about the Pythia’s answer? That’s rather suspicious too. Remember, an oracle lives on its own credibility, but to construct this credibility it requires an unlimited wealth of knowledge. No one alive has as much knowledge as the priests of the sanctuary of Apollo this
is why they can predict the future. Or why they can determine it. It’s the same thing in the end.’
