Babylon, page 16
With a brief nod, Ptolemy dismissed Polycleitus and gazed out over an azure sea, sparkling with thousands of reflections of the afternoon sun. He breathed deep of the salt-tanged air and congratulated himself on having come up with an excellent excuse to absent himself from the poisonous atmosphere of the palace after Artakama had been installed – albeit, temporarily – in a suite of rooms that had just been completed in the new east wing. Naturally it had caused Eurydike to erupt in a vicious bout of jealousy, assuming, wrongly, that as the suite was newer than hers it would follow that it was more spacious and luxurious. Berenice had simply refused to talk to him. Only Thais had remained her normal calm self and that was why he had brought her on this inspection of the border defences – and, besides, her advice was ever valued.
‘How long before the rest of the transports get here?’ Thais asked, walking up from behind him and linking her arm through his.
His gaze went west; he shaded his eyes. ‘Two days at the most; Lycortas promised me they would be here by the full moon. I believe that we’re still in good time. Antigonos might have taken the main ports in Phoenicia and set about besieging Tyros, but he has captured no more than a couple of dozen ships, nothing to threaten a well-protected convoy heading north to Cyprus.’
‘Then once it has gone you’ll have no more excuses to be absenting yourself from Alexandria and facing up to your rather complicated domestic situation. If you really want to see some fun, you should get Artakama pregnant and then step back and watch Eurydike’s and Berenice’s reactions.’
Ptolemy laughed, throwing his head back. ‘That would be too great a risk to my health. No, I won’t be facing up to the situation as I’ve already dealt with it. Now Antigonos can be plainly seen to be on the offensive, even though he is yet to draw blood – a state of affairs I shall soon force him to change – it’s time to send Artonis north to Kassandros. Artakama can go with her; they’ll be arriving with the transports from Alexandria.’
‘Where’s she going to go? Not with Artonis to Macedon, surely?’
‘They’re going to travel with the fleet as far as Cyprus and then Seleukos will arrange for Artonis to go on from there to Macedon via Caria and Thrace. The Exile-Hunter will escort them and drop Artakama off on the way with her half-sister Barsine in Pergamum. It would be fascinating to have a spy in the house of Alexander’s bastard; the older Heracles gets – he’s almost thirteen now – the more interesting he will become, especially as Kassandros has virtually imprisoned the young Alexander and his mother.’
‘Why send Artonis on such a roundabout route? Why not have them travel separately?’
‘I want Artonis to speak to Asander; it might do him good to hear at first hand what Eumenes was offered for his life. Seeing that he had the courage to join Lysimachus and my delegation to Antigonos, perhaps I can tip him into rebellion against the cyclops by frightening him and then offering to lend him these troops once they have done their job in Cyprus. Artonis can then go on to Lysimachus in Thrace and finally to Kassandros in Macedon.’
Thais looked thoughtful. ‘Do you think that Asander would be up to the task? He didn’t do well against Attalus and Alketas.’
As ever, Thais was right: Asander had been ordered by Antipatros to deal with Alketas and Attalus whilst they were consolidating their forces in Pisidia; he had failed and the task had been dealt with by Antigonos himself. Alketas had been killed and Attalus and their two lieutenants, Docimus and Polemon, had been imprisoned in a mountain fortress. ‘I often wonder the same thing, but then I remind myself that it doesn’t matter if he’s not up to it. The fact that I’m going to offer to send him an army of nine thousand to add to the fifteen thousand that he already has in Caria will be enough of a threat to force Antigonos to take at least the equivalent amount of his men to neutralise it; I’ll make sure that he hears of it from a reliable source.’
‘But what happens if Asander refuses the offer?’
Ptolemy tapped the side of his nose and winked at her. ‘That won’t matter as I’ll make sure that Antigonos’ reliable source believes he’s going to accept the offer, no matter what. The last thing that Antigonos would want to happen is for Asander to move into Phrygia, his personal satrapy; he would lose so much face should he allow that to happen. He’ll have no choice but to react.’ He squeezed Thais’ hand and walked her on around the battlements. ‘Using the nine thousand garrison troops who’ve withdrawn from all the towns that Antigonos has taken over the past few months to secure Cyprus and then bolster Asander is a far better usage of manpower than having them cooped up under siege in various citadels. It’ll mean that the army I end up facing here will be that much smaller and, therefore, far more beatable.’ He stopped and leaned down to kiss her. ‘And winning, my dear, is, as you well know, the only object of the exercise.’
‘And you do it so well.’
Ptolemy put his forefinger to his lips and widened his eyes in mock-horror. ‘Hush, don’t tempt the gods; there is still a long way to go and they have an exceedingly dark sense of humour.’
Thais spat, clutched her thumb between her fingers to ward off the evil eye and then poked her tongue out at Ptolemy with a giggle. He stroked her cheek and kissed her again. ‘Why can’t my wives behave as you do?’
‘Because they have high ambitions for their children and therefore jealously guard their positions, and that involves fighting each other and complaining to you about the others.’
‘Whereas you accept things the way they are.’
‘I’d be foolish not to; after all, it’s far easier to rid oneself of a mistress than it is of a wife, as Artakama just proved by coming all the way from Babylon to Alexandria to upset your equilibrium.’
‘Well, that is almost over now.’ Ptolemy took Thais’ arm and linked it through his. ‘Come, my dear, let us go to see how Menelaus is doing over in the harbour.’
‘This would have been sufficient to escort the transport convoy to Cyprus, Brother,’ Menelaus said as they inspected the scratch fleet cobbled together from the various squadrons of the Phoenician coast. ‘But things have become more dangerous now that Rhodos has declared for Antigonos.’
Ptolemy was alarmed. ‘They have? When?’
‘I found out two days before I left Cyprus.’
‘Do you know where Seleukos is? Have you heard from him?’
‘It was he who sent me the message; he’s been securing the Kyklades islands and destroying Antigonos’ shipyards along the Pamphylian and Cilician coasts.’
‘Then get back to Cyprus as fast as you can and send a message to him to bring his strength south immediately and not to wait until the convoy arrives in Salamis. I want him to cover the northern coast to prevent the Rhodians sailing around and intercepting it. Send me a message as soon as you know he is on his way and I’ll let the convoy go. If it’s delayed here whilst we wait for him, so be it. The most important thing is that it arrives in Cyprus safely. If we don’t secure the island then my whole strategy is destroyed and the war against Antigonos will be lost before it has properly begun.’
Menelaus looked pained. ‘I’ve only just arrived, and besides, who will command the convoy in my place?’
‘Polycleitus is quite capable.’
‘Then send him to Cyprus to get in contact with Seleukos.’
Ptolemy shook his head. ‘I can only trust a brother to do such a vital task.’
Menelaus sighed and gave in. ‘All right, I’ll leave straight away.’
Ptolemy put his hand on his brother’s shoulder. ‘It’s times like this that I thank Serapis for a brother upon whom I can rely.’
‘I don’t know whether to take that as a compliment or not, seeing as you have, as far as I can make out, made up the whole concept of Serapis.’
Ptolemy grinned. ‘And a very useful concept it is too: an amalgamation of Greek and Egyptian in one body; exactly what I need to be if I wish to retain Egypt.’ He slapped the shoulder again. ‘But tell me, how is Cyprus? How did the kings take the call for troops?’
‘Many of the city-kingdoms wanted to charge far too high a price for the provisioning of their men; King Stasoikos of Marion refused outright to supply me with any and Pygmalion of the only Phoenician kingdom on the island, Kition, promised a thousand, charging a very high price for their upkeep and then promptly welcomed Antigonos’ representative, Agesilaos. Whether he has made a formal alliance with him yet my spies cannot tell me as Pygmalion found out who they were, cut out their tongues and eyes and relieved them of their hands. Only King Nikokreon of Salamis agreed to give his contribution of one thousand five hundred infantry and five hundred cavalry free of charge; he’s proved to be a good friend, but the rest are starting to look east to Antigonos’ progress through Phoenicia and are wondering if they have chosen the right side. I fear that when he takes Tyros many will be covertly changing sides.’
Ptolemy sighed with exasperation. ‘These petty kings are so tiresome. They think that just because a few thousand people in some backward little town, with some scraggy fields attached to it, bow to them and call them king, they can start playing politics and plotting against the present power on their island. Cyprus is mine and it’s not for a cluster of nonentities whose great-great-grandfathers came down from the hills, chopped a few people’s heads off and decided to crown themselves, to start intriguing with the resinated cyclops so that he can take what belongs to me. We’ll just have to show them the true meaning of loyalty by demonstrating to them our strength.’
‘That sort of threat should make the bastards come crawling back for forgiveness.’
‘Oh, they need more than just a threat; they need a lesson. Take Marion; execute the king and let the lads have their fun teaching the population the meaning of loyalty.’
Menelaus grinned. ‘King Stasoikos is a nasty piece of work whose gullet I shall enjoy slitting myself, very slowly.’
‘Well, I’m pleased that I’ve given you something to look forward to when you return, to make up for all the inconvenience. It should also bring Pygmalion back into line. Now go and get a message to Seleukos; if all goes well and the transports arrive in the next couple of days, which will be followed by another day or two of loading stores and equipment, we could be ready to embark the lads in five days. With luck, Polycleitus will be ready to sail to Salamis in six, weather permitting; it’s just possible that I’ll have received your message by then. So hurry, I don’t want to delay too long because at the rate Antigonos is advancing south he will be here before the new moon, despite the little show of defiance that I’ve planned for him.’
ANTIGONOS.
THE ONE-eYED.
DOWN THE COAST of Phoenicia, Antigonos had led fifty thousand men, whilst Demetrios had taken a flying column of ten thousand inland, following the path of the Orontes to the east of the coastal mountains, unseen by the patrols of the Ptolemaic garrisons; thus he had come to Tyros unlooked for, catching the town unprepared for a siege with much of its agricultural produce still in barns in the surrounding country.
One by one the garrisons had withdrawn before Antigonos’ might: Ramitha, Tripolis, Byblus, Berytus and then Sidon, the small naval squadrons based in each harbour sailing the men south to rejoin, Antigonos assumed, the main fleet at Tyros and to strengthen the garrison there.
Unopposed, Antigonos had filled the ports, and the small shipyards between them, with timber and men, employing the best shipwrights in Phoenicia, the ancient heart of shipping.
By midsummer, when he had arrived finally at Tyros, the sound of saw, adze, hammer and chisel echoed from the coastal hills and the scent of sawdust from the felled trees blended with the resin of the living pines and cedars.
‘Not bad, Son, not bad at all,’ Antigonos said, admiring the four great siege towers nearing completion on the mainland end of Alexander’s mole, ‘although I hope we can take the city without a fight; I don’t want to be accused of being the first one to draw blood.’ Eight hundred paces long and twenty wide, the mole joined the island city to the mainland. Along its length was a road, with many men working to just beyond bowshot of the walls.
‘We’ve been working on the road, Father. It’s just about level enough; a couple more days and we’ll try to wheel one of the towers along it.’
Antigonos shaded his eyes. ‘What about the last couple of hundred paces?’
‘We do the section within range of the walls at night; it’s as smooth as the rest. At the far end, Alexander built a platform that can take all four of the towers.’
‘And when one gets destroyed?’
‘As soon as these are completed, we’ll start on another four; we’ll be ready before your navy. How is that going?’
Antigonos looked around relishing the activity of the siege lines: every man fully occupied and putting their all into the allotted tasks. ‘Much the same as here and all up the coast: busy. We have just over sixty completed that we’ve managed to save from Seleukos’ fleet in the north; not enough yet to challenge the Tyros fleet but it won’t be long. Most of those were constructed out of timber that had already been seasoned in the past couple of years but now we’re forced to build with fresher wood and the shipwrights don’t like that. I told them to get on with it. I need ships now; if they start to fall apart in a couple of years, what do I care?’ He gazed at the high walls of Tyros, shaded as the sun dropped towards the west, studded with towers and lined with men. ‘That’s what I want: Tyros. If it means that the ships we produce in the effort aren’t of the best quality then too bad, because at least they’ll outnumber the enemy vessels here, especially as Ptolemy has been reinforcing the fleet and garrison all the time.’
Demetrios looked at his father, frowning. ‘What do you mean, reinforcing the fleet and garrison?’
‘With all the ships that we chased out of the northern ports; they came south.’
‘We watched all the naval squadrons sail straight past here; I had cavalry scouts follow them south and they all pulled into Gaza.’
‘Gaza? So he’s fortifying that too, is he? But why split his forces?’ Antigonos shook his head, bemused. ‘Well, it just makes it easier for us to get Tyros – particularly if our agent, Moschion, can save us the trouble of an assault and have the gates opened for us – and when we do, now that Aristodemus and Idomeneus have secured an alliance with Rhodos, then Ptolemy cannot long hold Cyprus – especially with Agesilaos intriguing on my behalf with most of the petty kings. And when it falls, that will then mean that Seleukos’ fleet which Ptolemy sent up north will be cut off and ready for capture or sinking.’ Antigonos’ eye sparkled with the promise of victory and he rubbed his palms together with more vigour than was usual. ‘Now’s the time to press my advantage; you keep up the pressure here, Demetrios; I’m heading south with Ptolemaios and the lads and I don’t intend to be gone too long.’
Swift was Antigonos’ descent upon Joppa. Giving the coastal town no time to pull in all its surrounding farmers and stock, Antigonos galloped south with five thousand cavalry allowing the infantry and siege train to follow at their own pace. Sturdy and tall stood the walls, their ochre stone shimmering in the midsummer sun as Antigonos laid a cordon around the port from its northern coast to the southern. Ships fled its harbour as the access by land was cut off; a few figures appeared upon the battlements but not nearly enough to imply that the town was taking its defence seriously. ‘They have no heart left in them,’ Antigonos observed to his nephew, Ptolemaios, sitting on his horse next to him. ‘They’re running before we’ve even started; excellent. Another town regained without a fight.’ Pleased, as he still had not spilled a single drop of blood in his retaking of the whole coast and so therefore could not be accused of wanton aggression, he slapped his thigh with his reins and then pushed his horse forward at a walk, towards the main gates.
A branch of truce, cut from an ancient olive tree, was handed to him as he came within range of the few archers upon the walls. Holding it up, he raised his voice. ‘I have come to parley.’ He waited for a response, his eyes fixed at the bowmen aiming their shafts towards him. Silence. ‘I have come to parley,’ he shouted once more. Silence followed still, broken only by the stamping of his horse and the stiff sea breeze tugging at his cloak. Another hundred heartbeats he waited, his patience wearing thinner with each one, until, vowing to repay the discourtesy with harsh terms when they came to surrender, he pulled on the reins and turned his mount’s neck.
‘I hear you, Antigonos,’ came a shout from the walls. ‘What do you wish to talk about?’
Cursing under his breath, Antigonos turned back to see an older, grey-bearded officer standing above the gate, his high-plumed helmet glowing upon his head, flashing the occasional shaft of sun. ‘With whom am I speaking? Do you have the authority to treat with me?’
‘My name, Antigonos, is Matthias; I am the commander of the garrison. I am here to warn you that this town is under the protection of Ptolemy, satrap of Egypt and Cyrenaica. What business do you have here?’
This was too much for Antigonos, who let loose a bellow of laughter. ‘What business do I have here? My arse! It’s me that should be asking: what business do you still have here? You have an hour to collect your belongings and march out of the gate. You may keep your weapons and either enlist with me or head south back to Ptolemy. But if you do the latter, you had better run, for if I come across you as I head south to Gaza I will either take your surrender or your lives. I will be your choice. Now, there is no need for anyone to die so go and talk to your lads.’ Without waiting for a reply, Antigonos turned his mount and cantered back to his lines.
‘They haven’t moved,’ Ptolemaios said, looking at the archers on the walls, as Antigonos pulled up his mount. A clean-shaven, two-eyed version of Antigonos, and, like his brother, Dioscurides, in his early thirties, Ptolemaios and his brother had been with Antigonos all through his time as satrap of Phrygia as Alexander headed east.
