“The gods were so anxious to see the place built,” added Hephaestion, “that they want you to mark the boundaries with something more permanent, like stones.”
Both answers pleased Alexander.
The trip to Siwah took us into a waste so trackless that our guides had difficulty keeping their bearings. Such desolation is unknown anywhere in Greece; rain was so rare there, in fact, that the natives of Siwah long ago stopped building roofs on their houses. Short of water, and with no flour for food, it seemed that the Macedonians were in trouble-until the gods intervened again. Zeus sent a great rainstorm. Then Hermes manifested out of the ground in the form of an asp, and led us directly to the oasis. The Egyptians were amazed at these events, as if they were used to only nominal divinity, not true miracles, from their god-kings.
Alexander’s party was met in the outer courtyard of the temple by the high priest. The man’s Greek was so poor that instead of referring to Alexander in the vocative case, as ‘O my son,’ he used the nominative, as in ‘the son’, or ‘the son of Zeus.’ It was a trifling difference in the sounds of the words, a common mistake for barbarians, but it intrigued Alexander. The priest, in his turn, observed the expression on the King’s face.
Alexander went alone into the Holy of Holies. He was there for some time, as if in long conversation with the god. While nothing is known of what Alexander asked of the oracle, or the nature of the replies, what he learned there must have confirmed his new, and growing, sense of his unique destiny.
Returning to Memphis, Alexander installed his governors. In his wisdom, he understood that Egypt is too rich a land to trust to one man alone. He therefore divided its administration among two governors and three garrison commanders. Each was sworn not only to serve their King, but to respect the local governments and religious customs of the natives. He then led his army back to Phoenicia.
X.
The army reached the river Euphrates via Damascus some weeks later, making an uncontested crossing near Thapsacus. While the King was in that vicinity he paid a visit upstream to Bambyce, where there is a temple to Atargatis. Beyond paying homage to the goddess, however, he had in mind to see a certain wonder he had learned about from Aristotle: namely, the collection of marvelous fish that lived in the lake of the sanctuary.
The lake is in the temple courtyard. At the center of it is an altar in the shape of a phallus, which the acolytes swim out to decorate with flowers during the spring festival. In the water there are fish (some say carp, some say catfish) that are each as big as a man, and utterly tame. To visitors they swim up and roll themselves over to be scratched; some say the fish even have human-like faces. The priests encourage this legend by adorning them with jewels and gold on their fins, and conversing with them as if they could speak. Very few had ever witnessed this miracle before Alexander came, however.
They say that when the King arrived the fish became agitated, churning at his feet as if caught in a net. Suddenly the biggest one leapt clear of the water. Lying on its belly at Alexander’s feet, it raised itself on its bejeweled fins and said, in a clear voice so that all could hear: “With thanks, I consecrate myself to the table of the Great King.” And with that it kissed Alexander’s toe, and dropped dead.
I cannot vouch for the truth of this story as I was not there. In any case, the event made a deep impression on the priests, who fell to their knees in wonder. Alexander, for his part, expected no less a gift for the son of Zeus-Ammon. “We must honor this old fellow’s sacrifice,” he said, speaking of the fish. “Cook! Peristalsis! Fetch a cauldron!”
What the King proposed to do was unprecedented. The Syrians never consumed the fish in the goddess’ ponds, believing this to be a dire sin. Still, a desire to be eaten could not have been more clearly expressed by the fish. And so Alexander and his friends dined on a sacred carp of Atargatis that evening. In the long history of the temple, they were the only visitors to have been granted this honor.
It was at this time that Darius sent an envoy to Alexander. He was a Greek named Aegoscephalus. He had lived in Susa for most of his life, and declared (though for no clear reason) that he was equally proficient in Greek, Persian, Elamite, Akkadian and Aramaic. For his appearance before Alexander he wore the garb of a Persian dignitary, with layered, ankle-length robes and flat-topped, fluted headdress. Receiving him, Alexander gave every indication of being more interested in this striking get-up than in any message the man had to relate.
The envoy began by suggesting there was no reason why Darius and Alexander need be enemies. Had not peace obtained between their peoples for generations, until his father Philip sent an army into Asia? Why had Alexander never sent emissaries to his court to communicate his grievances, whatever those might be? Against Alexander’s sudden aggression, Darius had risen to defend his people, as any king might. Even so, to reestablish peace required only good will on both sides. To this end, Alexander would find a willing partner in the Great King.
The ensuing offer was undeniably impressive. All the lands between the Euphrates river and the Aegean coast would henceforth be ruled by Alexander. Darius would pay the Macedonians any reasonable annual tribute they wished to name, in addition to a ransom of 10,000 gold talents for the release of his son, wife, and mother. To seal the alliance, Darius would hand over his daughter to Alexander in marriage.
Everyone in the room found these terms most favorable-it was the widest conquest of territory and treasure ever accomplished with so few losses and in so short a time. Everyone was satisfied, that is, except Alexander, who yawned in the envoy’s face.
The Greek was sent away so that the king could consider the offer. In reality, the offer was never considered, for Alexander’s mind was already made up. Parmenion shook his head.
“If I were you, I’d take what he’s selling.”
“If I were Parmenion, I would take it too. Bring the man back.”
Aegoscephalus was led in, perhaps sooner than he expected. In making his reply to Darius, Alexander spoke to him in imperious, condescending tones, pointing his finger at him. His reply went something like this:
“First, you shall address me as the Lord of All Asia, as is only fit. Your employer is not my equal, but mere leaseholder on the lands that remain to him…they are not his to trade away, but mine if I wish to take them. The same applies to his money, and to his women, both of which I shall claim as my own in due course. If he wishes to reunite himself with his family, let him come to me and beg for this privilege! He need not be afraid, for Alexander is as fair to his supplicants as he is merciless to his enemies…You say that there is no reason for war between us, but the Persian’s memory serves only his vanity. His ancestors disfigured Greece with their invasions, having looted and burned her holiest sanctuaries. The kings of Persia have meddled in the affairs of Macedon since before the time of Philip. Your king has even boasted that he set the plan in motion that killed my predecessor. In truth, your employer is a pretender, for it is known here that he murdered by poison the legitimate heir to the Persian throne. No reason for war between us? How many more reasons do we need?”
At this point, Parmenion was so disgusted at this hubris that he left the room. For even as Alexander sat there insulting his opponent’s manhood, he bore a scar from when, in single combat, Darius had sunk a javelin into his leg. Equally chilling to Macedonian ears was the way he evaded acknowledging Philip as his true father by calling him his ‘predecessor’. But Alexander was not finished:
“If your employer takes himself for a man, he will take exception to what I say. If so, let him not flee from me, but stand and fight. Rest assured that I will give him every advantage. And if the day is his, he can expect that his enemy will not run, but welcome whatever fate the victor should decree. But until that day, let him know that the Lord of Asia considers him little more than a criminal, and will pursue him to the ends of the earth until the day he appears where his servant does now, on bended knee, and begs my pardon. Now off with you!”
Soon enough, we learned the Great King’s answer to these insults.
That night Alexander received reports from scouts sent to find Darius. They found neither the enemy nor significant resistance, but did learn that an urgent call had gone out to every corner of the empire for all native levies to gather near Babylon. Rumors held that Darius blamed his defeat at Issus not on Alexander’s leadership, but on the tight topography, which restricted the movement of the superior Persian cavalry. Alexander smiled at this conceit, but must have burned inwardly; as you will hear, his desire to leave Darius no excuse for his defeat had more effect on his tactics at Gaugamela than any military consideration.
The Macedonians crossed the Tigris without the loss of a single man. After the army made camp on the easterly shore, two significant events occurred. First, there was a total eclipse of the moon, which appeared high in
