Babylon, p.34
Babylon, page 34
‘What do you want from me?’
Ptolemy considered the question for a few moments. ‘This could be turned to our advantage. Pythan has just arrived with Demetrios from Babylon, bringing two thousand cavalry and a thousand archers with him, which gives Demetrios a slight mounted advantage.’
‘Pythan?’ Seleukos’ eyes lit up.
‘Yes, I thought that would interest you. I imagine you would like to bring Demetrios to battle as soon as is feasible?’
‘I’d like to kill Pythan as soon as is feasible.’
‘Let’s hope that it comes to the same thing. You muster the army at Pelusium, ready to invade Palestine, whilst I take the fleet to Cyprus, join up with Menelaus and destroy Marion and then execute Pygmalion.’
‘I brought the Exile-Hunter back with me; I’m sure he could help with the latter. He assassinated Asander, you know, although he’ll deny it all the way to the Ferryman.’
‘Antigonos paid him, I assume.’
‘I assume so too; although, who paid him to kill Menander, I don’t know.’
‘He killed Menander too?’
Seleukos shrugged. ‘He was in the area when Menander died in curious circumstances.’
‘I wonder if our old friend Archias is getting a bit too dangerous?’
‘That’s what I’ve been wondering.’
‘Did he bring Artonis back?’
‘He did not; she decided to stay in Pergamum with Barsine.’
‘Really now? That makes my arrangement with Archias very interesting: the deal was that he brings her back here.’
‘She’s given Archias a letter asking you to honour your agreement even so.’
‘It’s not up to her. Still, I’m not surprised she didn’t come back; I expect she blames me for her sister’s death.’ Ptolemy waved the thought away. ‘But she’s done what I needed: Kassandros and Lysimachus are both keeping Antigonos busy in the north, giving me the opportunity to strike in the south. When I’ve done in Cyprus, I’ll raid Cilicia and the northern Syrian coast; Demetrios will, I hope, take a flying column north to repel me.’ Ptolemy raised his eyebrows, inviting Seleukos to continue.
‘Cavalry! It’ll have to be cavalry.’
‘Yes, and to have a chance of catching me they’ll have to travel very fast.’
‘But your fleet will be faster.’
‘All the way back to Pelusium; then we attack and Demetrios will have to decide whether to fall back, endure a siege in Gaza or face us with either a few mounted troops or, if he’s back in time, a full complement of exhausted cavalry.’
Seleukos nodded his agreement to the plan. ‘And I get to kill the man who replaced me.’
‘And then we shall see, Seleukos.’
SELEUKOS.
THE BULL-ELEPHANT.
WE SHALL SEE indeed. Seleukos felt his spirits lift for the first time since his flight from Babylon; now, at last, he could see the real possibility for the realisation of his dream and the key to it had been provided by Antigonos himself. Ordering Pythan west with his best troops is an act of arrogant folly; one I’m very happy to benefit from. Thus it was in a very positive state of mind that he was reunited with Apama and introduced to his new daughter, named after her mother, after many months away at sea. ‘You and the children will come with the army when we march,’ he told his wife as they lay entwined, their skin slick with sweat. ‘If we win the battle, speed will be of the essence.’
‘Then won’t we slow you down?’ Apama asked, kissing her husband’s cheek.
‘Antiochus is almost twelve, he can ride his own horse. Archaeus can go in front of me and little Apama can be strapped to your back. I’m not going to risk leaving you here stuck in Egypt because the first thing that will happen—’
‘If you win,’ Apama cautioned, holding her thumb between her fingers to ward off the evil eye.
‘If we win,’ Seleukos agreed. ‘The first thing that will happen if we win is that Antigonos will abandon whatever he’s doing in the north and come south to punish Ptolemy; I don’t want my family marooned in Egypt.’
‘To be captured should Antigonos prevail.’
‘Quite.’
‘Then we’ll come. What about our baggage?’
‘What about it?’
‘Well, how will we get it to Babylon?’
Seleukos took his wife’s face in both hands and kissed her. ‘Apama, when we have Babylon, we’ll have everything we want. Now, tell me: are you really worried about our baggage?’
Apama returned his kiss. ‘What baggage?’
With the waning of summer, the dry heat of Egypt became more bearable and Pelusium, on the Pelugic branch of the Nile delta where it flows into the sea, was almost pleasant. And it was a blessing from the gods for there was much work to be done mustering the army that would march east and then north, following the coast, to Gaza. Seleukos sat in the relative cool of the shade of an awning with a faint sea breeze keeping the sweat from forming on his forehead, studying muster lists. ‘This predicts that we should have a phalanx in the region of eighteen thousand heavy infantry,’ he said, looking up at Lycortas who was mopping his bald pate with a fragrant cloth.
‘Does it? That is good,’ Ptolemy’s steward replied.
‘What do you mean, “does it?”? You compiled the lists.’
‘I must correct you on that point, sir: I had others compile the lists for me; there is a difference. The people who compiled the lists told me only how much the whole thing would cost; that is all I am interested in. How many men you have in your phalanx is a matter of indifference to me – so long as you win, of course – as I have no understanding of, and little interest in, military matters; it’s for that very reason that we have people like you in Egypt.’
‘Well, I can tell you that if we do indeed have that many heavy infantry then we shall outnumber Demetrios’ phalanx by seven thousand, if the reports of your little birds are correct.’
‘I think you can rely on my spies, Seleukos.’ Lycortas dipped his cloth into a basin of scented water and then applied it to the back of his neck.
Seleukos studied the lists again and then looked at the reports received from agents in Gaza. ‘If that’s the case, we will be outnumbered by his elephants seeing as we have none.’ He prodded a list with his forefinger. ‘That’s where the battle will be won or lost: his elephants. We are going to have to do something about them; it’s pointless having the larger phalanx if half of it is mush on the ground.’
‘That, sir, is a military maxim that I can understand.’
‘I’m pleased to hear it.’ Seleukos looked once more at the elephant numbers, chewing on his bottom lip, before coming to a decision. ‘Now, tell me, Lycortas, how is your understanding of carpentry?’
‘To be generous to myself: rudimentary.’
‘Well, here is an opportunity to expand your knowledge: get me ten wagon-loads of planks, a couple of thousand long nails, plenty of hammers and as much chain as you can lay your hands on.’
Named after Seleukos’ father, his eldest son, Antiochus, had grown in body and mind in the four years of their exile in Egypt and was now an interesting companion. Taking after his father in build and his mother in looks with a fine-featured face with large, almond eyes and skin of the same hue, Antiochus was at the same time both athletic and intelligent. During the muster of the army, Seleukos had taken to having the boy accompany him in most of his duties, and when he was not accompanying his father Antiochus trained with the fifty Companion Cavalry that Seleukos had brought with him from Babylon. Having witnessed the pride that Ptolemy had shown in the development of Lagus, his eldest son by Thais, Seleukos was enjoying the same feelings as he and Apama watched Antiochus jump from his horse, run alongside it for a few quick strides, and then swing back up into the saddle cloth to repeat the action on the other side of the beast. Around and around the training ground Antiochus and the Companion Cavalry half rode and half ran, accelerating with every circuit, until keeping pace with their mounts was impossible and elongated hops and skips, hanging onto the reins, were all they could do along the ground.
‘He’s doing well to keep up with the others,’ Apama said, ‘even though his horse is slightly smaller.’
‘I don’t think I could have gone that fast at his age,’ Seleukos admitted. ‘Alexander and Hephaestion were always the best at this – well, Alexander was always the best at everything – but they struggled to keep up with the Companions. Peucestas, Perdikkas, Peithon, Leonnatus and I would all fall once we got to a brisk canter.’ He smiled at the memory. ‘Strangely enough, the only one of us who could also do this well was Kassandros; probably because it didn’t involve having to be brave.’
‘How was Ptolemy at it?’
‘Ptolemy was older than Alexander and us pages; he was already one of Philip’s Companions; we used to look up to him.’
‘And you still do.’
Seleukos considered that notion. ‘Yes, I suppose if I’m completely honest, I do. I admire him because he has the great ability to think ahead and plan for almost all eventualities. It was he who first made me realise that what we are embarking on will have implications that will last for generations; he made me understand that it will be a dynasty that we will found, you and I. It’s not just me becoming satrap of Babylonia again, just another one in the empire; no, it’s breaking the empire apart and taking a chunk of it for our family to hold forever.’ He pointed to their son. ‘That boy will be a king one day and then his son, and his son, and his son and so on. That’s why I look up to Ptolemy, because he understood that concept the moment Alexander died without naming an heir; he knew that if he were to take Egypt, no one would be able to get him out and he would be independent.’
‘Babylonia is going to be far harder to defend than Egypt is; there are two great rivers that lead into the very heart of it for a start.’
‘We’ll expand to the east and to the west; it won’t just be Babylonia that Antiochus will be king of and his mixed-race blood will stand him in good stead in the east. Antigonos and Eumenes both showed how easy it is to take the east, but neither of them showed a great interest in keeping it; that’s where I’ll improve on them.’
‘And the west?’
‘Ah, the west? Well, Ptolemy has already suggested that I will need a port and suggested that I should build one around where the Orontes flows into the sea.’
‘And he keeps all of Syria to the south of that?’
‘Yes.’
Apama looked up at her husband and smiled. ‘He is clever, you’re right. He’ll give you that port because that will mean that anyone who wants to take Egypt has to come through you first, making you Ptolemy’s shield.’
Seleukos nodded. ‘Yes, I saw that too, but what does it matter? I would rather be Ptolemy’s independent shield than just a general in Ptolemy’s army.’
PTOLEMY.
THE BASTARD.
PTOLEMY WAS NOW a man in a hurry once again for he had much to do before he could return to Egypt and he wished to do it before winter made the seas even more treacherous. He stood before the walls of Marion, with his son Lagus and Menelaus, surveying the rows of armed men along their length; the gates were firmly shut. ‘What amazes me is that, having watched Seleukos execute the entire royal family in the agora and make it an oligarchy, the city should risk intriguing with Antigonos again.’
Menelaus was in no doubt of the reason. ‘They believe that Antigonos will be the eventual winner and so when Pygmalion went back on all his oaths they took advantage of me using my army and fleet to blockade him in Kition and called on Antigonos to come and relieve them.’
‘Only Antigonos’ fleets are busy in Greece and Lemnos. What about the Rhodians?’
‘There’s been no sign of them this year. Perhaps they’ve decided to take a more cautious course than Marion.’
Ptolemy shrugged. ‘They’re not here so I won’t worry about them.’
‘What are you going to do, Father?’ Lagus asked, removing his helmet and running his fingers through his wavy hair.
‘What would you do?’
‘I would destroy it and either remove or sell the population depending upon how hard they resisted me.’
Ptolemy put his arm around his son’s shoulders. ‘That is exactly right, my boy: a second chance rebuffed means a harsh response. It was my forgiving nature to just have the royal family punished last time; now the people will find out what it means to take advantage of my generosity.’
‘So, shall we prepare for a siege?’
‘No, there is no time for that; I want to be back and marching on Demetrios soon after the winter solstice, just when he’s not expecting it and, hopefully, whilst he’s still in the north with his cavalry responding to our raids. No, in situations like this, gold is the most effective weapon.’
‘But how will you know where to spend it?’
‘That is where the Exile-Hunter comes in useful. If anyone can sneak into a locked city and find a disgruntled faction who would rather live in luxury than spend the rest of the lives as slaves, he can.’
‘They say they want a talent of gold apiece and that all five of them should have a residence in Alexandria next to each other, and they want their entire families removed to there as well,’ Archias reported to Ptolemy at dawn the following morning.
Ptolemy yawned but was pleasantly surprised. ‘Is that all?’
Archias lifted his forefinger and widened his eyes as if he had just remembered. ‘Ah, yes, and they want the right to decide who of the population dies, who is sold into slavery and who gets to live.’
Ptolemy splashed water from a bowl over his face and the back of his neck. ‘That seems reasonable enough: no doubt they have a few scores to settle. I’d better get some pens constructed so we can sort them all out.’
‘That would seem to be the best way of doing it.’
‘Yes. All right, so long as they open the gates at midnight tonight, I’m willing to grant them everything they want.’
‘It won’t be tonight.’
‘Why not?’
‘I need to get back in with your written agreement; they won’t move without it.’
Ptolemy sighed as he rubbed his hair with a linen towel. ‘And you can’t get in in daylight?’
‘“Night hides the deeds the day can see.”’
‘I thought not.’
‘I left two of my men inside the town; we have an arrangement for the third hour of the night tonight to get me back in.’
‘How do you get in?’
Archias’ face lit up with boyish glee and he wagged his finger at Ptolemy. ‘If only I could tell you, but as you know, I never reveal my methods or my clients.’
I just can’t help but like the man, but I still need to bring him down a level or two. ‘Very well; make the arrangements for tomorrow at midnight.’
‘“Attention to planning brings best results.”’
‘Indeed. And, oh, Archias,’ Ptolemy said as the Exile-Hunter turned to leave. ‘You and your men will obviously not be paid for this.’
‘But you agreed—’
‘To pay you what I owed you even though you failed in the letter of our deal by not bringing Artonis back, yes. But that was before I found out that you killed my old friend Asander.’
Archias’ face was all shocked innocence. ‘I did not.’
‘I’m not going to waste time arguing the point. You were in Halicarnassus when he was murdered, that’s enough for me; I’m not stupid. Now, if you work for me, you can’t just go around killing my friends at Antigonos’ behest.’
‘I’m a free agent.’
‘Whose wealth happens to be banked in Alexandria; so you work for me. Do we understand one another?’
Archias said nothing, his face neutral.
‘I’m a very forgiving person, Archias, and I’m willing to overlook Asander’s death and allow you access to everything you own in Alexandria, once you have delivered Marion to me and the head of King Pygmalion in Kition.’
‘Oh? Is that all? Anything else?’
‘I would be interested to know who paid you to kill Menander.’
‘Now I really don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘My guess would be Kleopatra or Thessalonike.’
‘Your guess is your own to have.’
‘Indeed; and your wealth is your own to have once you have done those two things. But never kill one of my friends again unless I pay you to. Do we have a deal?’
‘We do, so long as you understand that I’m free to leave Alexandria whenever I wish.’
‘I do, and should you do that, you would never be allowed back.’
‘“Blessed is the man who stays happily at home.”’
‘Good. It’s always a pleasure to reach an understanding with an old friend. So midnight tomorrow, yes?’
‘The gates will be opened.’
One of the most pleasing attributes of the Exile-Hunter was that he always kept his word – unless someone paid him more not to – and this was no exception. At midnight the gates opened and Ptolemy unleashed his men, most of whom had already been drinking in anticipation of the sacking, into the town to extract his vengeance upon it.
All night did the screams rise from within the walls of Marion but none came to the aid of the suffering; as the dawn broke it was into a scene of horror that Ptolemy took his son so that he could see for himself the brutality that accompanies the fall of a city. But this lesson was going to be more than usually harsh, for as they went around the corpse-strewn streets Ptolemy’s men were already hard at work: into groups they herded the survivors, and out of the gates they were pushed; each house was searched so that none would escape.
Before the gates sat the men who had betrayed their city and past them the captives were led; each man, woman and child was examined and the fates of their erstwhile neighbours were decided. Into one of three great pens the citizens of Marion were led: one for the fortunate given the sentence of exile; another for the less fortunate sentenced to death; and then the third for those who were doomed to suffer the living death of slavery and be sold in the markets of Delos. Only a few were set free to go where they will, but where that would be none knew for they could not remain in Marion as the demolition had already begun.
