Forging kingdoms, p.11
Forging Kingdoms, page 11
Apama glanced up at him, dark eyes full of love and hope. ‘This is going to make the difference, isn’t it, Seleukos?’
‘I believe so, my love; with this I can buy an army big enough to face Antigonos and then secure the eastern satrapies and carve ourselves a kingdom we can defend. With this we can take half the empire.’ He turned to Xenophilus. ‘Have you an inventory of everything here?’
‘I have, lord.’
‘And what is the total weight?’
‘Seven hundred and twenty-three talents of gold, one thousand two hundred and eight talents of silver and then fifty-three talents of assorted gems, including diamonds, rubies, sapphires and emeralds and some lesser stones.’
Seleukos had to check himself from giving a whistle of amazement. ‘That is indeed a fortune.’
‘You wish for me to arrange for its transfer to Babylon, lord?’
Seleukos looked at the warden with incredulous eyes. ‘And why would I possibly wish for you to do that?’
Xenophilus looked confused. ‘Well, lord, surely you would want all this safely with you in Babylon.’
‘And who said I’m going back to Babylon?’
‘Well, I assumed—’
‘It’s not your place to assume, Xenophilus; your job is to keep this safe for me whilst I take Persis and Media.’
*
It was, therefore, to that end that Seleukos found himself at the head of a deep valley in the foothills of the Zagros Mountains to the north of Susa. With an escort of five hundred cavalry – Azanes with his Sogdians and two hundred heavy lancers – as well as the same number of light infantry, Seleukos had come to use a small fraction of his new-found wealth – two crates on a mule-drawn cart – to do what Antigonos had failed to do when he made the journey north from Susa to Ecbatana: pay the Cossaei for their protection. Seleukos had been a part of that ill-fated march through the rough country of the Zagros; terrain known intimately by the tribe living there. Antigonos’ army had suffered at their hands in attritional guerrilla warfare which had cost the lives of hundreds of men and damaged the morale of the entire army; such was the extent of the army’s losses that a mutiny, when they reached the safety of Ecbatana, had only just been averted by the generous gifts of cash which had depleted Antigonos’ resources to a dangerous degree. But this was a mistake Seleukos was not going to make as he planned his campaign against Media and Persis as, for it to be a success, he would need to be able to pass to the west and to the east of the mountain range as well as send troops through the middle. Full mobility in the entire area was what he would need in order to bring a swift conclusion to the campaign.
‘They’re approaching,’ Azanes said, pointing with one hand and shading his eyes with the other, peering down into the valley through which snaked a rushing mountain stream, its banks and bed strewn with boulders. ‘No more than twenty men; all mounted.’
Seleukos followed the direction of the Sogdian’s finger. After a couple of moments, he became aware of movement about a thousand paces away, but so well did the men and their mounts blend into the surroundings he found it hard to pick out individual figures. ‘I’ll take your word for it, Azanes; your eyes are evidently far better than mine.’
The Sogdian tapped his quiver. ‘You should take up the bow, lord; it keeps them sharp.’
And the truth of that statement became apparent when the grey-bearded, sunken-eyed chieftain, who held sway over the rough interior of the Zagros Range, approached with an escort of just eighteen men only becoming discernible at a hundred paces. Wearing baggy black trousers tucked into sturdy boots and woollen, short-sleeved tunics of off-white with black stripes of varying widths running down from black collars, and topped with black, rimless felt hats, the party presented an outlandishly uniform spectacle. The holsters holding their bows and the quivers full of arrows were also of the same monochrome colour scheme, which, along with the ponies’ grey, dun and beige hues, meant they blended in with their surroundings even as they stood before Seleukos, no more than twenty paces away.
Well aware of the prickliness of such men, especially when they considered themselves to be on sovereign territory, Seleukos decided it would be politic to make the first move, sacrificing dignity for good manners. He bowed his head, brushing his forehead with his right hand as he extended it to the Cossaei chieftain as he had been told to do by Xenophilus who knew their customs. ‘Noble Spinates, it pleases me that we meet in peace. May you have many sons and may they beget only males.’
Yellowed teeth appeared in Spinates’ beard as he grinned at the correct form of address. ‘It pleases me too, Seleukos, that we meet in peace. May you have many sons and may they beget only males.’ His Greek was good, if somewhat accented.
Well, we seem to be off to a good start. He dismounted, knowing Spinates would feel himself to be in the superior position being left in the saddle for longer. ‘Shall we break our bread together?’
At this Spinates laughed and threw a remark over his shoulder which caused his followers to join his mirth as they too dismounted. With an extravagant leap, one that would have been remarkable even in a younger man, Spinates swung his legs behind him and vaulted from his horse. ‘We shall break bread together, my friend.’
‘I like you,’ Spinates said, leaning over and slapping Seleukos on the shoulder. ‘You are the first Macedonian to have shown me respect. The Achaemenid kings would always pay me and my fathers before me for the privilege of crossing our lands when they moved their court north to Ecbatana to escape the heat of a southern summer; and then they would pay again for the privilege as they went back south for the winter. It was a fair price we asked and no more than they could afford. But they are gone now and who has taken their place? Macedonians! First there was Alexander who, after the death of Hephaestion, tried to drown his grief in our blood.’ Spinates’ sunken dark eyes burned with rage at the memory. ‘Thousands of my people did he kill, including many of my family; three sons I lost during that campaign.’
Seleukos shook his head, sighing at the injustice of it, feeling it best not to mention his part in Alexander’s assuaging of his grief.
‘And then Antigonos refused to even reply to my request to meet in peace as he took his army across my lands without my agreement. Such disrespect deserved my enmity. Hundreds of his men fell to my warriors; and those who made the mistake of surrendering rather than dying with honour were impaled.’
‘Yes, I heard the tales.’ Better not admit that I witnessed them at first hand; lines of men set writhing on stakes to either side of the column as the resinated cyclops led us on, refusing all advice to pay the Cossaei’s price. ‘Such discourtesy on Antigonos’ part was unforgivable and his men paid the price for his arrogance. I’m told that by the time they reached Ecbatana they refused to take orders, so deep was the terror you had instilled in them.’
The laugh was long and guttural; Spinates’ eyes watered. ‘That’s what happens when I am not shown the respect due to me. We have lived independently here for hundreds of generations; we call none our master and no man tells us when to come or when to go.’
‘And no man shall, Spinates,’ Seleukos asserted in his most solemn tone. ‘I am now the master of Babylon and Susa and by this time next year I shall also be the master of Ecbatana and Persepolis, and although my domain will surround yours, I shall respect your independence.’ He motioned to a couple of Companions to bring forward the cart. ‘This is a sign of my good faith in this matter. Come and see.’ He got to his feet and stroked the flank of the nearest mule as the cart drew up. ‘Open the crates,’ he ordered the guards as Spinates came eagerly to his side.
It was with an expression of incredulity that the Cossaei chieftain gazed down into the glittering contents of the two crates, for within was contained more wealth than he had seen since the fall of the Achaemenid kings.
‘Is that the respect you deserve, Spinates?’
Spinates controlled himself, standing up straight rather than drooling into the treasure. ‘It is a very generous testament, Seleukos.’
‘It is what you shall receive each year, my friend. And in return what will you give me?’
Spinates was in no doubt. ‘You shall have access over my lands. Any man who travels in your name will not be molested nor be required to pay a toll. On this I give my word.’
‘Very good, my friend. However, there’s one more little thing I’d like you to do for me.’
Spinates looked at the treasure and then back at Seleukos. ‘Name it.’
‘Keep me informed of people who aren’t in my pay who cross your lands. People who would perhaps mean me harm. People who support Antigonos, for example.’
At the mention of the cyclops’ name Spinates spat a thin stream of saliva onto the ground. ‘If I find anyone who serves that dishonourable man in my lands, they will end up living out their final hours on a stake.’
‘That is a noble sentiment, my friend, very noble, although perhaps a little wasteful. I would much rather you send them to me along with whatever messages might be found on their person. You would be doing me a great service in helping me to monitor Antigonos’ communications.’
ANTIGONOS.
THE ONE-EYED.
‘PTOLEMAIOS HAS PERSUADED his cousin to end his rebellion and pay off his mercenaries,’ Aristodemus informed Antigonos upon his arrival in Tyros. ‘Telesphorus asks your forgiveness and pledges his allegiance.’
Antigonos could not quite believe what he had just heard. ‘My fetid arse! The treacherous little shit asks what?’
A tall and slender, balding man with quick cunning eyes and thin lips bedded in a grey beard, Aristodemus bowed his head and made a graceful gesture of restraint with one hand. ‘He humbly asks for your forgiveness, lord.’
‘That’s what I thought you said, except without the humble bit. He can be as humble as he likes sitting over there in Greece, thinking I’ll forgive him just because he happens to be my late brother’s child, but what’s the fucking use of asking humbly for forgiveness if I can’t look him in the eyes and see how fucking humble the bastard really is? For all I know, my arse is humbler than Telesphorus.’
‘Indeed, lord, for all you know it may well be if you were unable to see Telesphorus face to face, not that you can look your arse in the eye, er… well, you know what I mean. Anyway, it’s to that end Telesphorus has travelled with me and Gelon, Kassandros’ ambassador, to ask forgiveness personally and humbly. He just wanted me to inform you of his remorse before he appears before you as a penitent.’
‘So I won’t bite his balls off at the sight of him, eh?’
‘So that you will know just how repentant he is when he comes before you.’
Antigonos grunted and kicked at a footstool so it flew clean out of the open window of his study, high in Tyros’ palace – a cry from the courtyard below indicated an unfortunate hit. ‘Well, keep him wherever he is and put a guard on him so he has to stay in his room and has time to think on his treachery. I’ll make him sweat whilst I talk with Gelon and Ptolemy’s man.’ Antigonos shook his head at the thought of having to deal with the smooth-talking Lycortas again. The last time I would’ve sent him back without his balls; but I’m sure he’s lost them. ‘What about Lysimachus’ emissary? There’s been no sight of him yet; did he come with you too?’
‘No, lord; Gelon will speak for both Kassandros and Lysimachus.’
Antigonos, again, could not quite believe his ears. ‘Are you saying their interests are completely aligned?’
Aristodemus shrugged. ‘It would seem that way. Ptolemaios had the initial meeting with Kassandros and Thessalonike just to the south of Pydna on the border between Macedon and Thessaly. They were immediately receptive to the idea of peace with you but wanted to consult with Lysimachus, hence the delay in our arriving here. They didn’t wish for Lysimachus to believe they were going behind his back as you know what a suspicious and vindictive man he can be.’
‘Can be? Is.’
‘Is, indeed, lord. Thessalonike travelled to Thrace and conferred with Lysimachus very successfully, it would seem, as he gave her full authority to negotiate for him, thus they sent only one emissary between them.’
Antigonos’ eye gleamed with amusement. ‘What did she do to him to persuade Lysimachus, probably the most untrusting man I know, to negotiate on his behalf? I would like to have seen Kassandros’ face when she came back and told him that.’
‘I don’t think he would’ve been unduly worried as she is – or was at the time – heavily pregnant with their third child, which must have been whelped by now.’
‘How any woman could bring herself to bear just a single child for Kassandros never fails to amaze me, but to do it three times is beyond reason. And then as for calling the eldest two Philip and Alexander, who does he think he is?’
Aristodemus had not got to be so high in Antigonos’ favour by sheltering him from the truth. ‘He thinks he is going to be king of Macedon one day and thus he’s producing royal-sounding progeny; note how he hasn’t named a brat after himself as Kassandros is not a royal name. I would wager the latest one will be called Antipatros just to lay claim to the regency as well.’
‘If he thinks he can take Macedon as his kingdom then the pockmarked little toad is going to be sadly disappointed. He still holds the king in Amphipolis and the young Alexander is thirteen; does Kassandros have the balls to kill him? Because I surely wouldn’t. He got away with killing Olympias but that was because he gave her to the families of her victims, thus he could hide behind other people’s vengeance. But killing the heir to Alexander himself?’ Although I wish he would summon up the courage.
Aristodemus considered the question for a few moments. ‘In my opinion Kassandros and Thessalonike are well on their way to being secure in Macedon.’
‘Until I push them out.’
‘If you manage to, Antigonos.’
‘What are you saying?’
‘I’m saying the reality of the situation at the moment is that dynasties are being created. Kassandros has Macedon along with Athens, Thessaly and Epirus closely allied, as well as an evident understanding with Lysimachus as they are both negotiating with you together, so despite Ptolemaios being in control of the rest of Greece, down to the isthmus and Polyperchon’s territory, Kassandros has a very secure position, as does Lysimachus in Thrace.’ The Greek paused to gauge his master’s current receptivity to hard truths. ‘As does Ptolemy.’
‘That’s because of his fucking Arabs! They offered peace and gave my boy seven hundred camels, according to his last despatch, as if that’s going to make me trust the slippery bastards; and they still pick at my supply lines. My arse! I lost a couple of score of good lads in the last month and I’ve still got seven hundred fucking camels coming my way! What the fuck am I meant to do with seven hundred camels? And don’t give me the obvious answer; I’m not a Nabatean!’
Aristodemus raised both palms, pacifying the explosive temper. ‘But let’s face it, lord: the reality is four kingdoms are being forged.’ He pointed through the window to the east. ‘The question is: what news of Seleukos? Is he forging a fifth?’
This thought brought Antigonos back to the matter in hand. ‘Call Gelon and Lycortas; it’s time to dictate the peace. The sooner it’s done the sooner I can deal with our Titanesque friend and put Ptolemy in his place.’
‘Both Kassandros and Lysimachus are very keen for a state of peace to reign throughout the empire,’ Gelon declared; grossly overweight and ludicrously undersized so that he resembled a weighted pig’s bladder used for gymnastic training, he stood before Antigonos in Tyros’ main agora which was packed with officers from Antigonos’ army. ‘And indeed, it was Kassandros who made the first move to Ptolemaios suggesting a conference.’
That’s an interesting slant on things, Antigonos mused as the ridiculous man continued with a speech that would be as long as it was unnecessary: it would be he, Antigonos, who would set the terms and not the two weaker parties. Ptolemaios didn’t mention a mission from Kassandros and Thessalonike in his report to me; he said he made contact with them. Is he hiding things from me? I’ll need to get to the truth of that.
‘Thank you, Gelon,’ Antigonos said, when it was finally his turn to speak, ‘for putting the case for peace between us so forcefully and succinctly. Before I hear from Ptolemy’s ambassador, I’ll lay out my terms for Macedon and Thrace. I agree to recognise Kassandros and Lysimachus in their spheres of influence and, in return for a promise of nonaggression on my part, demand that Kassandros, whom I name commander-in-chief of Europe – not satrap, regent or ruler – leaves my nephew Ptolemaios to build his strength in Greece, recognising his hegemony over all the land between Thessaly and the isthmus, with the exception of Athens. Kassandros is free to deal with Epirus and the Illyrian tribes as he wishes as I have no claim on either. As for Lysimachus, I thank him for his valiant work in keeping out the threat to us all of the barbarian tribes to the north and am most happy to contribute a modest sum to his ongoing building of fortifications along the Istros. I name him general in the north; in return I ask he desists in meddling in Hellespontine Phrygia and recognises the satrapy as being under my control through Phoinix who is my appointee. Should those terms be acceptable to you, Gelon, and your two masters – and mistress, more to the point – recognise me as the overlord of Asia and Africa, and be willing to consult me on matters appertaining to Europe, then you may consider there to be a state of peace between us.’
