Alexander (Vol. 2) Read Free Page B

turned to look over his shoulder. ‘See those two up there?’ he asked, pointing to the silhouette of two horsemen proceeding along the ridge of the Troad mountain range. ‘Those two have been following us since dawn and they were observing us all day yesterday – the countryside must be crawling with them.’
    ‘In that case we’d better inform Alexander . . .’
    ‘Don’t worry. Alexander’s perfectly aware of the situation and he knows that somewhere along the road the Persians are preparing a welcoming party for us.’
    The march continued without any problems throughout the morning until the midday break. The only people to be seen were peasants in the fields, intent on their work, or groups of children running along the road, shouting, trying to attract attention.
    Towards evening they set up camp not far from Abydos and Parmenion had them post guards all around, at a certain distance. He also sent light cavalry patrols out into the countryside so as to avoid surprise attacks.
    As soon as Alexander’s tent was pitched, the trumpet sounded for a council meeting and all the generals gathered around a table while supper was served. Callisthenes was there too, but Eumenes was absent and had left instructions for them to begin without him.
    ‘Well, lads, this is much better than Thrace!’ exclaimed Hephaestion. ‘The weather’s excellent, the people seem friendly, I’ve seen a fair number of pretty girls and boys and the Persians are keeping to themselves. It reminds me of Mieza, when Aristotle used to take us all out together into the woods to collect bugs.’
    ‘Don’t delude yourself,’ replied Leonnatus. ‘Lysimachus and I spotted two horsemen who followed us throughout the day and they certainly won’t be far away now.’
    Parmenion, with his old-general style, respectfully asked for permission to speak.
    ‘There is no need for you to ask for permission to speak, Parmenion,’ Alexander replied. ‘You are the most experienced of us all here and we have much to learn from you.’
    ‘Thank you,’ said the old general. ‘I only wanted to know what your intentions are for tomorrow and for the near future.’
    ‘To push towards the interior, towards all the territory controlled by the Persians. At that point they will have no choice – they will have to face us in the open field and we will beat them.’
    Parmenion said nothing.
    ‘Don’t you agree?’
    ‘To a certain extent. I fought the Persians during the first campaign and I can assure you they are fearsome opponents. What’s more, they can count on an excellent commander – Memnon of Rhodes.’
    ‘A renegade Greek!’ exclaimed Hephaestion.
    ‘No. A professional soldier. A mercenary.’
    ‘And isn’t that the same thing?’
    ‘It’s not the same thing, Hephaestion. Some men fight many wars and ultimately find themselves emptied of all conviction and ideals, yet full of ability and experience. At that point in their lives they sell their sword for the best offer, but they remain men of honour and Memnon is one of those. He keeps to his word, whatever the cost. For these men their homeland becomes the word they give, and they maintain and respect it with absolute resolve. Memnon is a danger for us, so much the more so because he has his own troops with him – between ten and fifteen thousand mercenaries, all Greek, all well armed and formidable opponents on the open battlefield.’
    ‘But we defeated the Thebans’ Sacred Band,’ said Seleucus.
    ‘That doesn’t count,’ replied Parmenion. ‘These are professional soldiers – they do nothing else but fight, and when they are not fighting, they are training to fight.’
    ‘Parmenion is right,’ said Alexander. ‘Memnon is dangerous and his mercenary phalanx is equally so, especially if flanked by the Persian cavalry.’
    At that moment Eumenes came in.
    ‘The armour suits you,’ Craterus laughed. ‘You look like a general. It’s a shame you’re knock-kneed and your legs