Alexander the King Read online

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  Alone, Alexander ruminated on his actions involving the ex-queen. He knew there would be no exile for the woman or her children. Her elimination was inevitable; it just had to be done at the right time. For an instant, he regretted that her infant son, only one of two potential rivals to his ascendancy, must die. Then he steeled himself and forced the weak thoughts from his mind. Their removal will not happen immediately, he decided. That was how his mother thought. Other, deadlier, rivals must be dispatched first.

  Is this how a king’s reign starts? With deception, lies and manipulation? It wouldn’t always be this way, he finally decided. When he had stabilized the kingdom and established himself, he could act as Aristotle had taught him at Mieza. Kingly truth would then become his life standard. Life-threatening expediency caused him to act duplicitously now. Circumstances justified it. His survival was at stake. Philip would have done the same. Zeus-Ammon, his spiritual father, would forgive these necessary sins.

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  Over the next days, King Alexander issued a series of commands that were his first official acts as Macedonian monarch. Swift horse messengers were dispatched to Epirus and Illyria, recalling a host of his friends who had been exiled by Philip. Among them were Ptolemy, Harpalus, Nearchus, and two brothers, Erigyius and Laomedon. Perdiccas, one of the plotters who had killed Pausanius after he had assassinated Philip, was given a high command in the army. Philotas, a longtime friend, was made temporary chief of staff.

  After issuing these orders, the king sent for Hephaestion. His lifelong friend came immediately and was escorted into Alexander’s private chambers. When the door was closed, the companions embraced warmly. Each man’s head rested on the other’s shoulder until the embrace verged on something more. Finally, Alexander pulled away and walked to an alcove couch.

  “Sit with me, Hephaestion. I need your counsel.”

  “Your need is written on your face. Ask anything of me and I’ll do it.”

  “I know you will. Listen to me while I think aloud. Tell me if the actions I’m considering are needed.”

  Hephaestion looked at Alexander. He had seen his companion go through this process before. It was the only way that his troubled spirit could ever have survived parents like Philip and Olympias. Anguishing and personal recrimination were not in Hephaestion’s character, however. He simply confronted problems, made a decision and then acted. His personality manifested a direct, linear-simplicity that was nearly the opposite of Alexander’s. Too much swirled in the king’s prodigious brain for that. The two made a complementary team when time permitted discussions such as these.

  Hephaestion saw Alexander stretch out his short arms then run his fingers through his near-golden, wavy hair. Then he interlaced his fingers over his head and rested his arms there while his different colored eyes darted about the throne room.

  “Mother seethes with revenge,” he began. “I must avoid her for a while.” The king buried his head in his hands, rubbed his eyes and then continued. “Within the next ten days my supporters will return. I’ll then be in a stronger position to take the offensive against the uprisings that have broken out. My enemies see me as vulnerable; therefore, I must act quickly. I’ll command today that Amyntas is to be put under palace arrest. He’s Philip’s brother’s only son and could be used by those who challenge me.” Alexander paused.

  Hephaestion’s eyes were fixated on Alexander. He had seen the same, troubled look on his friend’s face when Alexander had made the decision not to oppose Philip’s assassination. The king’s wide-eyed gaze told him that Alexander wanted his reaction.

  “I agree,” is all Hephaestion said. Nevertheless, he was surprised with Alexander’s leniency. It was the time-honored Macedonian custom to eliminate quickly rivals to the throne when a new king came to power. Amyntas was fortunate that Alexander didn’t order his death outright.

  “I’ve decided to let Philip Arridaeus live,” Alexander continued. “Olympias destroyed his brain when he was an infant; he’ll never threaten my kingship. Sometimes I pity my half-brother.” Alexander didn’t wait for Hephaestion’s reaction on that issue.

  The king continued his crisis list. “Yesterday, a son of the Lyncestian Aeropus demanded an audience with me. He acknowledged me king, and then told me of a plot involving his father and two of his brothers. I’m to be killed soon, probably on my return to Pella.”

  “Take them out immediately,” Hephaestion said without hesitation. “They’ll do it!”

  “Yes. How will the highland, provincial chiefs react? Will they join a revolt against me? Aeropus and his sons appear to have secret support.”

  “It’s likely; but you have no choice. We can deal with the uprisings as they come. But eliminate these threats now, before the plot spreads.”

  Alexander grew even more pensive. There was another long silence, and then he brought up another menace. “Attalus is my most serious threat. Our army can easily put down any uprisings in the months ahead. But Attalus co-commands Macedonian forces in the Troad. If he gets Parmenio to join him, Macedon will be thrust into civil war. Athens and Persia would pick the winner’s bones clean.”

  Hephaestion thought briefly, and then reacted to his lover’s last remark. “Send for Attalus before he takes any action. Command him to return, alone, to Pella. If he refuses, and he will, have him killed there. The only uncertainty is Parmenio. He was your father’s oldest friend. If he thinks that you were involved in Philip’s murder, he’ll join Attalus against us.”

  “Perdiccas is already spreading word to our commanders and foreign diplomats that Pausanius acted alone. We have scribe-recorded confessions from the stable hands who raped Pausanius that he swore revenge on both Attalus and Philip. We also have the written assurance from Demosthenes that Pausanius was to have been given safe passage to Persia. Copies of these confessions and the letter have been sent to everyone that matters. That should be enough to convince Parmenio and bring him to our side.”

  “He may not believe the evidence,” Hephaestion replied. “Those things can be faked. Parmenio has done it over the years.”

  “I know, but it might convince those who want to be convinced. Parmenio may have doubts about the evidence, but he also wants to be on the winning side.” Alexander stood and walked toward the ancient throne of Macedon, lost in thought.

  He then turned and faced his friend to announce his decision. “I’ll send Hecataeus on a trireme today to find Attalus in the Troad. The assassins you trained will accompany him. If Attalus won’t return, they will have orders to kill him there and return with his body. A different agent will be sent to persuade Parmenio to stay out of the mess and remain loyal to me. Pray to Zeus-Ammon that he does.”

  “It’s a good plan. Attalus must be eliminated or he’ll join with Athens, even King Darius, against you. You have no other choice.”

  “I’m grateful for your strong support, Hephaestion. I’ll get through this and win more glory than Philip ever dreamed of. You’ll be at my side as I go forward.”

  “I’ll be there, Alexander.” The two men walked to the door and embraced intimately. Alexander gave his friend an order before he left.

  “Return to Pella today. I want you in command of the army until I return in a few days. When the exiles return, I’ll reorganize the army units and appoint new commanders who are my supporters. Make sure no plots hatch against me until then.

  “Take this,” Alexander said, handing to his friend the symbol of the Macedonian monarchy. “It’s my royal seal. It will validate any actions you deem necessary. I don’t want to be murdered on the Aegae-Pella road.”

  “There will be no army plots. You are the gods’ anointed. We will prevail.” Hephaestion embraced the king once more and then left.

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  Alexander issued orders for the immediate execution of Aeropus and his two sons. He then sent for Hecataeus. The king gave him orders to travel by swift trireme to the Troad, where Attalus and Parmenio were encamped with
the Macedonian and Greek allied expeditionary force. He knew that word of Philip’s death would have already reached the army; valuable time must not be lost turning events in his favor.

  Hecataeus gladly accepted his king’s orders and left with twenty of Hephaestion’s trained assassins to confront Attalus. Traveling with him was a special envoy, Amyntas. Amyntas’ assignment, the most delicate of all of King Alexander’s agents, was to go to Parmenio. All Hecataeus had to do was ask Attalus to return and kill him if he refused. Amyntas had to reason with the venerated general and convince him that Alexander had played no role in his father’s death.

  The outcomes of these dangerous actions were in doubt as Alexander began to review urgent dispatches from Greece and the conquered Macedonian lands. Predictably, the Illyrians were mounting raids against Macedonian border outposts. Equally dire, the primitive, blue-body-painted Triballians began to invade Macedonian territory in northern Thrace, south of the Danube River. These same savages had nearly killed Philip with a spear thrust to his leg.

  Most alarmingly, the horse-rich estate chieftains of Thessaly were in open rebellion against Macedonian authority. Philip had been given the title of archon for life, but they did not intend to transfer the title to his son—especially a son who many of them felt had a hand in his father’s death.

  Alexander knew that the Greek states must be taught a lesson quickly or everything that Philip had accomplished over twenty years would be lost. He spent his last days in Aegae, prioritizing solutions to these multiple crises as he awaited word from Hephaestion that it was safe for him to return to his army in Pella.

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  Alexander used this time to commission a great tumulus that would hold the washed bones and last worldly possessions of Philip. He issued a series of commands to his royal engineers to prepare the site that would house the former king’s remains. There were to be three structures at the gravesite, each without a main door. The main burial chamber was to contain Philip’s afterlife accessories. His remains were to be sealed in a royal funeral chamber, which would be closed from the top with a large, wedge shaped, blocking stone. All buildings were then to be covered with enormous quantities of earth, hauled in by slaves to create an earthen tumulus. A small temple honoring Zeus was to be built atop the mound, where an eternal fire was always to be kept burning.

  Alexander told the engineers that he would inspect and give final approval of the site before Philip’s remains were placed in it. Before that, however, he must attend to more critical matters in Pella. Strict orders were given to keep Olympias away from the burial site.

  Word finally came from Hephaestion that it was safe for Alexander’s return to Pella. The king prepared to leave the next day. He decided to take his mother with him. He had deliberately avoided Olympias since the day of the murder, but now her role in his monarchy must be explained. His hopelessly headstrong mother had to be reined in. Her limitations and what she could and couldn’t do had to be made clear.

  Alexander spent half a morning deciding the roles he would allow Olympias to assume. Then he called for Macedon’s queen mother and awaited her sitting patiently on the ancient throne of Macedon.

  “You have finally learned to sit on the throne,” Olympias said as she entered. She wore a half smile. “It becomes you. You look exactly as I thought you would.”

  “Enough, Mother,” Alexander said curtly. “Macedon’s in turmoil! There’s no time for your annoying cuteness. We leave for Pella tomorrow. Prepare for a sunrise departure.”

  “I’ll be ready.” She kept the enigmatic smile on her still-beautiful face as she spoke.

  “Cleopatra-Eurydice and her children were taken to Pella yesterday. She’s to be kept safe in the palace for the immediate future. No harm is to come to her, not now. Stay away from her! Is that understood?”

  “Why do you put off what must be done, Alexander? Every Macedonian monarch before you eliminated rivals immediately after assuming power. Philip did it! You’ll never be safe until all three of them are dead.”

  “Caranus, the baby, must die. On that we agree. I’ve not decided what to do with his mother and sister. I alone will make that decision. You’re not to see her or cause her or her children harm. Is that clear?”

  “I hear you, son. But you are not thinking straight. Delaying their deaths jeopardizes us both.”

  Alexander raised his voice to a near shout. “It is how I’ll have it! You’ll do as I tell you!”

  Olympias relented. There would be other chances and other times. She walked to her son, pulled him off his throne by one arm, and embraced him. “You’re king now, son. I acknowledge your authority, even over me.”

  “That’s how it must be. When the army is ready, I must leave Pella and crush our enemies. Antipater will be made regent in my absence. You should like that! You couldn’t have done what you did without him.”

  “Have you considered making me regent during your absences?”

  “Macedonians will never accept a woman as regent. You should understand that.”

  “Establish a new pattern,” she shouted. “You’re king now; you can do what you want.”

  “My throne is precarious, Mother. Don’t burden me with absurd requests. Even Aristotle wouldn’t support such a ludicrous idea. Be satisfied with your queen-mother role. You’ll have more power than Philip ever gave you. But stay away from Antipater. He has my trust and he will govern Macedon ably. I’ll be in regular correspondence with him, so I’ll know if you’re following my wishes.”

  “You may change your mind as you watch me in the years to come,” Olympias persisted. “For now, I’ll do as you ask.”

  “I must stamp out all of these rebellions before I rule the world, Mother. Don’t cause me problems with your wild notions. I want you as an ally and supporter, not a viper that I must watch constantly.”

  Alexander was tiring of this contentious exchange and led Olympias to the door. They embraced and she left. The new king spent the rest of the day studying maps of Thessaly and central Greece. The maps were the ones that Philip had made after Chaeronea. Thessaly, immediately south of his threatened kingdom, must be dealt with soon after he returned to his main army. He wouldn’t take years to cajole, negotiate, and bribe his path to glory as Philip had. The rebellious Thessalians would be the first Greeks to understand how King Alexander handled mutinous former allies.

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  Alexander stayed only half a day in Pella. Both he and Hephaestion thought the capital still too dangerous. He planned a midday departure to join his vast army encamped outside the city. Before leaving, he met with Antipater, gave him the royal seal, and empowered him to rule in his absence.

  “Send me regular dispatches, no matter how far from Macedon I might be,” Alexander told Antipater. “Continue doing this as long as you are regent.”

  “The dispatches will start immediately. I’ll begin training special couriers as soon as you leave. They’ll use the fast steeds your father bred from Thessalian stock.”

  “Good. Make arrangements for Olympias to correspond regularly with me. I want her perspectives on events in Macedonia. She is connected to the gods, and I want her religious counsel.”

  “She will have a special pouch. I’ll put your royal seal on it as soon as she gives the scroll to me. No one will ever read your mother’s letters.”

  Alexander was pleased with Antipater’s attitude. “Take care of my kingdom, Antipater,” he said as he led his new regent to the door. “If you can keep it calm here, I’ll take care of the rebellions that break out. Then I’ll complete Philip’s dream of conquering Persia.”

  “And you will do it,” Antipater shot back. “You know my administrative abilities. Don’t worry; your orders will be followed.”

  Antipater left. Alexander stayed in the throne room, alone. His thoughts covered Philip’s death, how he would deal with his rebellious Greek allies and his destiny. Then he turned and walked to the ancient throne of Macedon. Constructed of strong Maced
onian oak, it was beginning to show its age. He wondered if he would ever gaze on the symbol of his royal ancestors again. For the first time, he felt the burdens of monarchy. Reverentially, he stroked the old throne’s arm with his left hand and sighed. “Enough!” he said loudly to himself. He turned and walked briskly to the door. King Alexander of Macedon had much to do.

  CHAPTER 2

  ALEXANDER & DEMOSTHENES

  It was late summer when the young king, reinforced by his formidable 10,000 man horse cavalry, began to move south into Thessaly. The 30,000 force was unchallenged until it approached the vale of the Tempe River. The Thessalians occupied the narrow gorge, held nearly impregnable by the enormous slopes of Mount Olympus and Mount Ossa. Warned by Macedonian advance scouts that a frontal assault was impossible, Alexander halted his army. He took a small group of the scouts, several of his engineers, and his officer inner-circle, and walked along the shore of the Thermaic Gulf, where Mount Ossa fell precipitously into the lapping waves. A strong, humid breeze was blowing, causing the king’s wavy hair to dance.

  “It’s just too dangerous to lead the full army along this rocky shore,” Hephaestion said as the small group sought another path around the Thessalian blocked pass. “We may have to backtrack north and then swing westward toward Elimea to meet the Thessalians.”

  “That would take too long,” Alexander replied. “There has to be another way.” The king walked under the near vertical wall of rock that represented the east side of Mount Ossa. It towered high above him and projected itself outward, so that he could see no higher than twenty or thirty cubits. “We need an enormous ladder.” Then his blue and gray eyes lit up. “Get my chief engineer!”

  The engineer came quickly and was taken to the king. “Is it possible to cut steps into this rock?” Alexander asked as he pointed upward. “The steps would have to be wide and deep. Several thousand lightly armed hypaspists could then climb over Ossa and descend into the plain of the River Peneus on the other side. I remember the area from when we returned from Chaeronea.”