Ivan Yefremov - Thais of Athens

Clonaria told her merchant about the imminent departure and he hurried to “take” her into his house and sign the marriage contract. The merchant had enough room in his household for Salmaakh as well.

The swift ship of the fleet leader carried Thais and Hesiona down the western arm of the Nile. Nearchus sailed forth with warlike speed, not dallying anywhere, and stopping only to get provisions. Thais spent most of the trip on deck, sitting under the stern tent next to Nearchus. She clutched around herself a blue cape of fine wool which Nearchus had initially intended for Egesikhora. Hesiona sat nearby in her favorite pose on three layers of carpets, her legs curled up. It was a kind of luxury that was unheard of even in Athens at the time. In Egypt it was only available to the noblemen and the highest-ranking priests. Three slaves, two tall Mizian men and a slender, mean-tempered Finikian girl, waited off to the side, ready to carry out any order.

Nearchus told them about the adventures during Alexander’s campaign. Being more of an explorer and seafarer at heart than a military man, he remembered more about the places along the Ionian and Finikian coasts than about the battles. There were mountains and harbors which closely resembled Crete and Hellas, but were more spacious and less populated, with vast, untouched pine and cedar woods, light and pure, cleansed by the mountain winds. The hills below were akin to the gardens of gods, with chestnuts, mighty walnuts and pomegranate trees, and groves of sakuras, with their round crowns bubbling up like green clouds. Even lower, right near the coast, were thickets of almonds, hazelnut bushes as big as houses, fragrant myrtle and laurel, pistachios and carob trees with black pods, as sweet as dates.

All this wealth of food, barely touched by men even in close proximity of the cities, allowed people to live in spacious solitude. Had it not been for the constant pirate attacks, life there would have been much easier than on the shores of the native Peloponnese and Crete. But the cities demanded more and more new slaves for construction and taking care of the households, and the Asian shores became deserted, emptied by the “living tool” hunters.

Nearchus recalled the harbors surrounded by cliffs of white lime, saying they were like marble goblets filled with blue, crystal clear water. Deep gulfs among red mountains hid mysterious black underwater rocks, covered with huge sea sponges and blood red corals.

The shores, overgrown with thyme, lavender and myrrh, emitted a sharp fragrance during the hot, calm days, diluted only by the fresh scent of the sea. Further to the south, in Cilicia, the narrow mountain valleys, shaded by the enormous sakuras, were saturated by the poisonous fumes of oleanders and magnolias. Woe befell those who lingered near the bubbling rivers at the bottoms of those valleys. Cypresses sixty elbows tall, a height unheard of in Hellas, framed the approach to the sea like burial columns.

Entire islands of silvery gray olive foliage spread around cities and large villages.

Finikian shores, which were drier and had poorer soil, had many oaks and shrubs, but its mountains were home to the same titans as in Cilicia and Caria, the cedars and firs.

Nearchus told them about the cities. Some of them had opened their gates to the victorious Macedonians, welcoming them gladly. Others fought desperately, and for that they had been pillaged and all their men murdered. Those others had included Millet, Galicarnass, Tyre and especially Gaza.

Each time he spoke of the conquered cities and battles, Nearchus mentioned Alexander. The friend of his childhood games and youthful adventures, the exiled prince in the eyes of his closest friends, not to mention the cream of Macedonian cavalry from the noble families to his devoted getaerosi (comrades), had grown from an inexperienced soldier into a divine army leader. Alexander accomplished things that no Helenian could even dream of, not even his father Philip, who had long since considered a war against Persia.

Against the advice of men experienced in politics, Alexander rejected his father’s underhanded tricks. He always acted straightforwardly, kept his word, and fulfilled his promises to the letter. His ability to make lightning fast decisions surpassed even that of Themistocles. He never gave up on his goals and acted with such confidence in successful outcome that his captains considered it divine foresight.

During the first large battle at Granic, the senior officers could still reproach him for carelessness. But after the giant battle at Issus, when Alexander and thirty-five thousand Macedonians and Thessalian horsemen decimated hundreds of thousands of Darius’ soldiers with minimal casualties, his associates started treating Alexander with reverent fear. The old simplicity, even familiarity, in their attitude was replaced by something akin to worship. Alexander’s habit of suddenly throwing himself into the most dangerous spots in the battle, and fighting with a godlike rage, made him like Achilles, whom Alexander counted among his ancestors. Over a short period of time he received two serious wounds: one to the hip and another one in the shoulder, from which he recovered inhumanly fast.

“He must be surrounded by the greatest beauties of Ionia, Syria and Egypt,” Thais said.

Nearchus burst out in a kindly laughter. “You’d be surprised. Imagine this: Alexander doesn’t have anyone, unless you count some plain-looking widow he took into his tent after his senior officers advised him not to inspire gossip among his soldiers and take a lover. Tens of thousands of young women have been sold into slavery. He could have had his pick. During the battle of Issus he took in all of Darius’ possessions, as well as his family. That included his mother, wife and two daughters. Darius’ wife, Stateira, was considered the first beauty of Asia, and the princesses are beautiful as well.”

“And he didn’t take her?”

“No. And wouldn’t let anyone else have them, telling everyone that the women were to be his hostages.”

Thais picked up a handful of Carian almonds from a clay platter. They were a common Helenian treat which she missed greatly during her time in Egypt.

“Then he doesn’t like women at all?” she asked.

“I wouldn’t say that. When Ptolemy hinted that the ladies of the Persian royal family were beautiful, Alexander sounded almost anguished. ‘Yes, and it is a torture to my eyes’ was what he’d said. No, he senses feminine beauty keenly and reveres it.”

“Then why does he avoid women?”

“I think Alexander is not an ordinary man. He is indifferent to food and drink. I have seen him disgusted by the gluttony of his comrades who wanted to have a feast after each victory. He is not greedy, even though there isn’t a person in Hellas who ever possessed such treasures. His favorite occupation is to read at night and spend his days consulting with the cryptii, the people who survey the way ahead, as well as talk with the philosophers.”

“What of the widow?”

“She doesn’t love Alexander and is afraid of him, hiding in the back section of the tent like a mouse.”

It was Thais’ turn to laugh. “How well do you understand him, close friend? Or are there others, even closer? Ptolemy? Hephaestion?”

“Most likely. Hephaestion because he is Alexander’s complete opposite. Ptolemy always stands for himself, although Alexander highly values his cleverness and ability to make decisions quickly. I know the sea, but he is distant from it. We, his closest friends, have become more distant from him lately. Alexander’s decisions are difficult to foresee, and his actions are frequently inexplicable.”

“For example?”

“Sometimes Alexander acts like a wise ruler, merciful toward those he conquered, respectful of the others’ traditions and temples, filled with good intentions toward the citizens of the taken cities. But sometimes he is akin to a wild, untamed barbarian. He destroys cities to their foundations and sets off bloody massacres. When they were at Thebes, the Macedonians demonstrated what they were capable of.”