Ivan Yefremov - Thais of Athens

The army reached the fifth river, Hyphasys (Bias), and Alexander continued moving east, traveling along the impossibly tall mountains which were visible from as far away as a thousand stadiums. The ridges marched in steps toward the hilly country, providing no change in their surroundings. Nothing indicated that they might be nearing any type of boundary. All of upper India was behind them, but no one knew what lay ahead. Not even the most experienced cryptii knew the local language, so they could not find out anything about the way forward.

Now the fifth river flowed before them, as swift and cold as those they had crossed before. The same hills stretched beyond, wrapped in blue mist and the greenery of thick woods. The army stopped.

Porus told his conqueror about the land of Magadha beyond the Hyphasys, whose king had two hundred thousand infantry soldiers, twenty thousand horsemen and three thousand elephants. Officer Chandragupta, who had been imprisoned there and escaped, confirmed Porus’ words. In the southwest there was a land of the mighty Aparajit, undefeated tribes who owned many particularly large battle elephants.

Nothing was said of the boundaries of the world or of the giant ocean. All at once the Macedonian soldiers realized that further travel was pointless. It was obvious the land, inhabited by skilled warriors, could not be taken by surprise. India was so vast that Alexander’s entire army could be scattered and lost there, their bones buried among the endless hills. The loot no longer attracted the exhausted army. Their infallible and unbeatable leader had gone too far in his search for the Great Ocean. He had led them to a land which he did not know how to conquer. His luck had almost run out at the Hydaspes. There the army had been saved by the selfless courage of the phalanx and the shield-bearers. But the veterans no longer possessed their former daring. They had been broken by the terrible battle and the endless war. Once they refused to obey, the army insisted. The march ahead made no sense. They had to return home while they still had the energy to cross all that space.

Alexander was beside himself. He insisted that the end of their journey was near. The Ganges was close and the ocean was just beyond. Then they would all sail home, past India to Egypt.

During a war council with Alexander, Kenos, a Hydaspes battle hero, represented the army. He said that the information collected by the cryptii was being held secret from the soldiers, and that the Ganges was not close at all. In fact it was three thousand stadiums away. There was no ocean beyond the Ganges, only endless mountain ranges. Couldn’t Alexander see how few Macedonians and Helenians were left in the army? Did he not keep track of the numbers of killed, wounded, and deceased from illnesses, or the ones left to stay in the new cities he had built? Those who were still alive and able were worn out. They were like horses who’d been ridden too far and too long.

At a sign from Kenos, seven tall Macedonians stood before the king. They were naked, wearing only their helms, showing their many scars and sores from old and still-bleeding wounds. They shouted, “Alexander, do not make us go forth against our will. We are not the same as we were before. If we are forced, we will become even worse. We can no longer support you. Can you see this, or have your eyes lost their sight?”

The great leader became enraged. He tore at his own clothes, intending to show these “weaklings” his own scars and wounds, of which he had more than any of the soldiers. But he restrained himself and retired to his tent, taking no food. Finally he sent a messenger to the soldiers, telling them he would obey the will of the gods.

It had been a long time since the army had watched the old seer Aristander with such anxiety. Now they watched in silence as he cut open the sacrificial sheep on the shore of the Hyphasys. Before Aristander could pronounce the menacing foretelling, Ptolemy, Seleucus, Kenos and all other officers standing nearby saw clear signs of failure and death. They could not cross the river.

When Alexander ordered the army to turn back, the soldiers’ loud cheers showed how their patience was at its limit. Alexander ordered twelve stone columns to be erected on the bank of the Hyphasys, marking the end of his Indian campaign. The army returned to the rain-flooded Nikea on the Hydaspes, where the fleet was being constructed. Tragically, Kenos died of exhaustion upon arrival, having served a great service to his comrades before his death.

From that point Alexander’s army sailed down the river. Most of the light rowboats perished on the rocks and in whitewater. Nearchus’ broadsided ships navigated the swollen Hydaspes and the Indus with much more success. Nearchus offered to build more ships of that kind but Alexander refused.

Having lost his dream of reaching the East Ocean, Alexander’s mind was now on his long-abandoned empire, and he hurried home.

The cavalry followed the Indus shore. Hephaestion’s detachment traveled along one bank. Another detachment, led by Crateros, traveled along the opposite bank, as the two commanders always argued with each other. The infantry traveled on ships with Alexander and Ptolemy.

From time to time there were skirmishes with brave tribes fiercely defending their lands from Macedonians. Alexander seemed to have become possessed by a demon. He was bent on eliminating all signs of resistance in the countries where his army traveled. There were senseless killings. Macedonians no longer needed large numbers of slaves, and had they kept the tribe members instead of killing them, they would have had to either deliver them to the markets or feed them. Both of those options did little but stall the army’s progress.

In the land of Mali, at the edge of the great Tar desert, the natives’ courage exceeded that of other tribes. There the Macedonian army was delayed at a well-construction and fearlessly defended fortress for a long time.

Enraged by the resistance, Alexander stormed the wall himself. As soon as he reached the top, the ladder broke. Alexander had no choice but to jump off the wall and land inside the fortress. Only two people were with him: Peuketos and Leonnatus, his personal shield bearer, who carried after him the black shield of Achilles he had picked up at Troy.

Alexander owed him his life. During the attack, an arrow struck Alexander through one lung and he collapsed. Peuketos was also wounded and fell to his knees. Leonnatus, who was also bleeding, covered them both with the sacred shield of the Trojan war hero and, fighting as mightily as Hercules, held back their enemies until the Macedonians finally broke into the fortress, mad with fury. Within minutes all defenders of the fortress were slaughtered. The king was carried to his ship, an arrow still protruding from his chest.

“Wait!” Thais interrupted. Hesiona stopped speaking. “Where was Ptolemy, and why is he the Soter and not Peuketos or Leonnatus?”

“I don’t know. Deynomachus didn’t know either. Perhaps Ptolemy managed to get to Alexander the quickest with sufficient number of soldiers to save everyone. The soldiers consistently call him the Savior and no one else. They must know better.”

“What happened next?” Lysippus asked.

When Alexander was brought to the ship, nobody dared touch the arrow in his chest. They thought the king was dying.

Perdicca, his most experienced officer, ordered them to roll Alexander onto his side. He broke off the tip of the arrow with his strong fingers then pulled out the arrow. He bound the wound tightly and told the king to drink water with wine and yarrow leaf. When physicians arrived, the bleeding had stopped. Alexander became fully conscious, wakened by the soldiers’ screams and shouts. The army demanded to see the king, dead or alive. Alexander ordered that he be carried to the shore under a tent so that people could see him.