Ivan Yefremov - Thais of Athens

At this point, after ten days on the road, approximately three thousand stadiums separated the detachment from the Egyptian border. Having crossed the low mountains, they emerged onto a plain. Ruins of massive ancient structures towered above the disorderly mass of small town homes on the eastern side. This was Armageddon, one of the “Wheel” cities of the ancient king Solomon, with stables that had housed hundreds of horses seven centuries ago.

Ptolemy told Thais about an ancient prophecy of Hebrew elders who had said the last battle between the forces of good and evil was to take place at this exact place, in the valley of Armageddon; however, the seers did not indicate the exact time of the battle. Later on Thais discovered that Indian philosophers had, in fact, predicted the time of the decisive battle between Light and Dark, but not the place. It was thought that the great contest was started by the godlike rulers in order to satisfy their arrogance and love of power. It destroyed the best of their people and gave birth to a new historic era consisting of the accumulation of anger and despotism: Kaliuga. The terrible final battle was to take place at the end of Kaliuga.

Putting the two prophecies together, Thais determined that the Armageddon battle was to take place twenty-three and a half centuries after the year of her birth, and was surprised that people could be so interested in something that might happen in the impossibly distant future. However, she remembered that Indians believed in reincarnation and a series of repeated births, and they believed in a manner even stronger than the Orphics. If someone believed in the endless duration of his life on earth, it was no wonder that he was interested in the events of such distant future.

Thais did not believe in the possibility of endless transformations. The Orphic teachings were yet to overcome the Helenian notion about the temporary nature of life, sucked in with a mother’s milk. And the endless wanderings through the darkness of Hades was not attractive to anyone.

The road descended to the sea and stretched along the coast, all the way to Tyre. Ptolemy decided to increase the pace, and they crossed the remaining four hundred stadiums over a day and a part of a moonlit night. This last dash proved to be fairly easy for Thais, who was sufficiently trained by then, and had an excellent horse. Za-Asht was left in charge of Salmaakh, as well as the cart carrying Thais’ possessions.

Having arrived at the huge camp near Tyre, the hetaera discovered the reason for Ptolemy’s rush. Alexander had had his first large disagreement with the oldest and most experienced officers of the Macedonian army. Darius had sent a letter in which he offered peace, a huge ransom as well as the entire coastal portion of Asia and Egypt. Alexander rejected the offer, replying that until Darius showed up for the decisive battle or laid his title at Alexander’s feet, he would be pursued to the ends of Ecumene.

Parmenius, the oldest of the Macedonian captains and Philip’s comrade, was the first to object to such arrogant reply. “If I were

Alexander, I would have accepted the Persians’ conditions,” Parmenius said.

“So would I,” Alexander agreed, “if I were Parmenius.”

Senior officers believed that one ought not constantly push their military luck, especially when the enemy still had enormous resources. Heading away from the sea and into the heart of the country, foraying into the endless plains, was dangerous. The Macedonian army could find itself cut off from their supply chains, since no one knew where Darius was gathering his troops or when he was planning to deliver the decisive strike.

While the army had a chance to rest during winter, a scorching summer still lay ahead, including a difficult march into the immeasurable distance. The army would become exhausted, especially its strongest part, the infantry: the phalanx and the shield-bearers. The latter were now referred to as Argiroaspides, or “silver shields”. They had received this distinction for their unprecedented courage at Issus.

Arguments, supported by taking stock of the fantastic trophies, conquered lands and captured slaves, were so weighty that the contingent of older and more cautious officers took Parmenius’ side. Younger officers, who were missing only Ptolemy, were decisively in favor of continuing the campaign, crushing Darius completely and conquering lands to the end of Ecumene.

Alexander realized that the younger ones were carried forth by the battle spirit and love of adventures more than by any other considerations. The great strategist understood the grave danger of the continuing war but, unlike the elders, he also saw the impossibility of ending it.

After the battle at Issus, the destruction of Finikian cities and the invasion of Egypt, he could not stop at this halfway point. In a few more years his splendid army, dissipated among various stations, would stop being that reliable military force with which he could resist the scores of Persians. Even if there were no new battles, thirty thousand Macedonians would dissolve in these lands like salt in water. Alexander had no choice. Most importantly, with a stubbornness inherited both from his mother and from Philip, he wanted to realize his longtime youthful dream: to go to the east, where the sun’s carriage rose from the edge of earth and the waters of the ocean, to the boundaries of mortal life, to the cape Tamar of the ancient maps.

Viewed from the last mountain range, the Macedonian camp was laid out in a scattering of lights. Despite the late hour, fires still burned, lighting the circles of soldiers caught in lively discussions. The others, who had missed supper for some reason, were waiting for bread to finish baking and meat to finish roasting. All of these were provided to the army aplenty on Alexander’s orders.

Ptolemy slowed his tired horse and turned back toward Thais. The hetaera rode up to him, coming as close as she could because she saw Ptolemy’s intention to speak with her in secret.

“Listen, Orphian. Sometimes you possess the gift of foresight and point out correct solutions. What would you advise Alexander — to make peace with Darius or go against him?”

“The king needs no advice. Especially not from me.”

“I understand that more than anyone else. The question is for you, if you were asked to make a decision, which would you choose?”

“I say forward, only forward. We must not stop. To stop means death.”

“I knew it,” Ptolemy exclaimed with admiration. “You are a true companion for an army leader. Perhaps for a king.”

With these words, Ptolemy put his arms around Thais and pulled her to him for a kiss. Suddenly he pushed away with a yelp and his horse jumped into the darkness with a strike of his heels. Thais looked around, puzzled by the Macedonian’s disappearance. When she realized what had happened, she burst into laughter. Boanergos, jealously protective of his rider, had bitten Ptolemy, who reappeared after a moment.

“Let’s ride down,” he said and urged his horse forward, not looking at the hetaera.

Subdued luminaries burned in a side attachment to Alexander’s tent. The tired army commander lay on his wide and uncomfortable bed, listening to Thais. He had invited her over on the eve of their departure, after keeping her from dancing for his officers. Thais enjoyed the flashes of spirited curiosity in his eyes which she saw whenever he lifted his heavy head from the pillow of his arm.

The shield of Achilles hung over his bed, blackened by time. Alexander had never parted with it since the day he’d taken it from a temple at the ruins of Troy, where he’d left his own shield instead. The weight of the shield was proof of having belonged to a mighty hero, whose example had excited the Macedonian prince since childhood. However, Alexander carried in his soul the disappointment he, and many before him, had experienced at the Ilion hill. All of Iliad’s heroes had fought there. That had been difficult to imagine while he’d stood in front of a small hill. Of course, nearly a thousand years had passed since the Iliad, but the giant temples of Egypt, the palaces of Crete and the cities of Finikia were even older. Alexander had reconciled himself to the loss of his childish fantasies about Troy only when he realized that the number of people inhabiting the face of Gaea grew every century, the boundaries of Ecumene broadened, and a truly great deed would have to satisfy higher standards. He had more than fulfilled the dream of his father Philip and the warlike Isocrates [22] Helenian army leader who dreamed of payback to the Persians. . Now, if only he could crush Darius and conquer Persia completely.