Alexander (Vol. 2) (12 page)

‘I think it will,’ said Hephaestion, ‘the southerly wind that’s blowing helps the Persians coming up from the south, but it’s against our ships coming from the north.’

The horseman set off at a gallop across the bridge of boats in the opposite direction to the flow of soldiers, crying out for everyone to clear the way, then he gave the horse free rein and spurred it on up the slopes of the Mycale headland. Stationed up there was a group of surveyors who were observing Nearchus’s fleet off to the north. They were equipped with a mirror-like polished shield for sending signals.

‘The King sends orders for this message to be sent without delay,’ he said, handing over the slate. ‘The Persian fleet is in the Gulf of Miletus – three hundred warships.’

The signalman studied the sky and saw a cloud advancing from the south, driven forwards by the wind. ‘I cannot send it just yet, we must wait for that cloud to pass by. Look, it’s blocking out the sun as we speak.’

‘Damnation!’ swore the horseman. ‘Why don’t you try with flags?’

‘They’re too far away,’ the signalman explained, ‘they wouldn’t be able to see us. We have to be patient – it won’t take long.’ Indeed, the shadow of the cloud now covered the headland, while the fleet proceeded in full sunlight, all lined up neatly behind Nearchus’s flagship.

The cloud seemed to stop moving completely and the fleet approached the western point of the headland and began moving out towards starboard, ready to round it.

Finally the sun reappeared from behind the last fringe of cloud and the surveyors straightaway began signalling. The message was transmitted almost immediately, but the fleet continued forwards towards the headland.

‘But have they seen us?’ asked the horseman.

‘I hope so,’ replied the signalman.

‘Then why don’t they stop?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Signal again then, quickly!’

The surveyors tried again.

‘By Zeus! Why don’t they respond?’

‘Because they can’t – they are in the shadow of the cloud now.’

The horseman bit his lip as he strode backwards and forwards. Occasionally he looked down towards the army and imagined the King’s humour at this moment.

‘Message received!’ exclaimed the signalman. ‘The flagship is lowering its sail and they are steering with their oars. They’ll reply soon.’

The flagship now continued at reduced speed and the foam generated by the oars could be seen clearly as the rowers guided the vessel to a sheltered area under the headland.

A light flashed from the bow and the signalman read out:

‘ “We . . . move landwards . . . landwards.” Excellent! They’ve understood. Quickly, go and report to the King. The sun is not with us for signalling from here.’

The horseman galloped off down the hill and reached the King, who had called a full meeting of his high command on the beach. ‘Sire! Nearchus has received the message and as I speak is manoeuvring the flagship,’ he announced as he leapt to the ground. ‘Any moment now you will see him round the headland.’

‘Very well,’ replied Alexander. ‘From this position we can also keep check on the movement of the Persian fleet.’

By that time the Great King’s enormous fleet had almost completely covered the area between the Miletus peninsula and the foothills of Mount Latmus, while on the other side Nearchus’s flagship was rounding Cape Mycale and coasted towards the mouth of the Meander, soon followed by the other ships in the allied navy.

‘Perhaps we have got away with it,’ said the King. ‘For the moment at least.’

‘Indeed,’ said Craterus, ‘if we hadn’t signalled the danger Nearchus would have ended up face to face with the Persians, obliged to engage with them from a situation of hopeless inferiority.’

‘And what is your plan now?’ asked Parmenion.

He had just finished speaking when one of the shields-men arrived with a dispatch. ‘There is news from Miletus, Sire.’

Alexander opened the message and read it.

Philotas, son of Parmenion, to Alexander, Hail!

‘It was to be expected,’ said Alexander. ‘Now that the Persian ships are anchored in the bay, Eghesikratos feels invincible.’

‘Sire,’ announced one of the shieldsmen, ‘a launch from our flagship is approaching the coast.’

‘Good, our sailors will join us for our war council.’

Shortly afterwards Nearchus alighted on the beach and behind him was the Athenian commander of the allied fleet, Karilaos.

The King greeted them warmly and informed them of the situation, then he asked the opinions of all those present, in descending order of age, beginning with Parmenion.

‘I am not an expert in matters regarding the sea,’ began the old general, ‘but I believe that if King Philip were here he would take the enemy fleet by surprise, counting on the greater speed and manoeuvrability of our ships.’

Alexander’s mood changed abruptly, just as it did every time he was compared publicly with his father the King.

‘My father always fought when the chances of achieving victory were good, otherwise he always played a game of cunning,’ he replied brusquely.

‘In my opinion it would be a mistake to engage in battle,’ said Nearchus. ‘They outnumber us three to one and we are landlocked, we have little room for manoeuvre.’

Others expressed their points of view, but soon they all realized that Alexander was not concentrating on the meeting. Instead, he was watching an eagle on the lookout for fish, flying in wide circles above the beach. Suddenly the eagle dived down at high speed, grabbed a large fish in its claws and then, its wings beating wildly, gained height and flew off with its prey.

‘Did you see that fish? It trusted in its mastery of the water and it came too close to the shore, where the eagle made the most of a situation that just then was favourable to her. And this is exactly what we will do now.’

‘What do you mean?’ asked Ptolemy. ‘We have no wings.’

Alexander smiled. ‘Remember the last time you reminded me of this fact? We were moving into Thessaly and we had the insurmountable wall of Mount Ossa there before us.’

‘That’s right,’ admitted Ptolemy.

‘Good,’ the King began again. ‘Well, my view is that we cannot risk a naval clash under these conditions – not only does our enemy have a crushing superiority in terms of numbers, but they have more powerful, more robust ships. If our fleet were to be wiped out, then my prestige would be destroyed with it. The Greeks would rise up and the alliance that I have worked so hard to create would fall apart, with disastrous consequences. These then are my orders – beach all of our ships, making sure that the first to be hauled out of the water are those carrying the pieces of the siege engines. We will assemble them and take them to the walls of Miletus.’

‘You want to beach the entire fleet?’ asked Nearchus incredulously.

‘Precisely.’

‘But, Sire . . .’

‘Listen, Nearchus, do you think that the Persian infantry aboard their fleet is any match for my phalanx lined up on the shore?’

‘No, I don’t think so.’

‘Of course it isn’t,’ said Leonnatus. ‘They really are no match at all. And if they were to attempt it we would destroy them before they even reached dry land.’

‘Right,’ said Alexander, ‘and therefore they will not attempt it.’

‘Nevertheless,’ continued Nearchus, who had now understood the King’s intentions, ‘they cannot remain at anchor for ever. To strengthen their ships they have increased the number of rowers, but in doing so they have left no room aboard for anything else. They cannot cook, they cannot keep sufficient stocks of water, they are almost completely dependent on supplies from land.’

‘Which we will block using our cavalry,’ concluded Alexander. ‘We will patrol every corner of the coast, especially every river mouth and every stream, every spring. They are out there, at anchor, and soon they will have no food, no water, all they will have is the blazing sun and a burning thirst in their throats, a twisting hunger in their bellies, while we will have everything we need.

‘Eumenes will direct the assembly of the siege engines, Perdiccas and Ptolemy will lead the attack on the eastern side of the walls of Miletus as soon as the engines have opened a breach. Craterus, assisted by Philotas, will set off with the cavalry along the coast to prevent any landings; Parmenion will move the heavy infantry to support the other operations and the Black will give him a hand. Isn’t that so, Black?’

‘Exactly, Sire,’ replied Cleitus.

‘Excellent. Nearchus and Karilaos will guard the beached ships with the infantry and their crews will be armed too. If necessary, they will dig trenches. Miletus must be made to regret its about-turn.’

I
T WAS LATE SPRING
by now, and the day was a fine one. The noonday sun was high in the skies and the sea was as still as a millpond.

From the summit of Mount Latmus, Alexander, Hephaestion and Callisthenes contemplated the splendid spectacle there before them. To the right the Mycale headland jutted out into the sea like a spur, and beyond it they could make out the profile of the large island of Samos.

To the left was the stout Miletus peninsula. The city, destroyed by the Persians two hundred years previously because it had dared to rebel against their power, had been magnificently rebuilt by its most illustrious son, the architect Hippodamus, who had planned it carefully on an orthogonal grid of wide main roads and narrower secondary roads for neighbourhood traffic.

On the highest point he rebuilt the temples of the acropolis, resplendent with marble work painted in brilliant colours, ornaments in bronze, gold and silver, and statuary groups that stood majestically and dominated the huge bay. In the centre he had opened up the great square, a point of confluence for all the roads and the heart of the city’s political and economic life.

Not far off the coast was the small island of Lade, like a sentry posted to watch over the entrance to the great gulf.

At the far north-eastern extremity, near the mouth of the Meander, Nearchus’s ships could be seen, beached and protected by a ditch and a palisade against any possible attack from an infantry landing by the enemy.

Out in the middle of the bay the distance made the Great King’s three hundred ships look like little toy boats ready for children to play with.

‘It’s incredible!’ exclaimed Callisthenes. ‘Here in these waters, in this very stretch of sea, the outcome of the Persian Wars was decided – that small island near the city is Lade, and it was there that the rebel Greeks were crushed by the Persians.’

‘Callisthenes will now give us a history lesson, as if his uncle’s lessons at Mieza weren’t enough for us,’ said Hephaestion.

‘Quiet,’ said Alexander. ‘If you do not know the past, you cannot understand the present.’

‘And down there, on the Mycale headland,’ Callisthenes continued unfazed, ‘our men paid them back in full some twenty-five years later. The fleet then was under the command of Leotychides, King of Sparta, and they struck while the Persian fleet was beached.’

‘That’s interesting,’ said Hephaestion, ‘today the roles are reversed.’

‘Indeed,’ said Alexander, ‘and our men are sitting comfortably in the shade, eating fresh bread, while they have been out there roasting in the sun for three days now and if they have anything at all left to eat it can only be ship’s biscuits. Their water must be rationed now to one or two dippers a day per head. They’ll have to take a decision soon – attack or go on their way.’

‘Look,’ Hephaestion pointed out to him, ‘our siege engines are setting off. By evening they will be under the walls of the city, and tomorrow we will start battering their fortifications.’

Just then an orderly from the Vanguard arrived on horseback with a dispatch, ‘King! A message from Generals Parmenion and Cleitus,’ he announced, handing over a slate.

The King read:

‘Magnificent!’ exclaimed Alexander. ‘Exactly as I had envisaged. Now we can move back down.’

He dug his heels into Bucephalas and started down at a walk towards the bay to meet up with the convoy of siege engines on its way towards Miletus.

Eumenes approached him, ‘Well then? What’s the view like from up there?’

‘Splendid,’ replied Hephaestion for Alexander. ‘You can see the Persians roasting over a slow grill. They’ll be cooked to perfection before long.’

‘Can you guess who has just arrived?’

‘No.’