But after that. .? There was no memory. Aida later told him that she and Olympias had murdered Philip's widow and the child. It was necessary, she had assured him. Alexander had not believed her, but he had done nothing to punish the women.
For then, as now, he had woken in his bed with dried blood upon his hands and face.
It had seemed to Parmenion that there was no further room for pain in his heart and soul. The death of Derae and the murder of Philip had lashed his emotions with whips of fire, leaving him spent and numb. Yet now he knew he was wrong. The killing of Mothac opened another searing wound and the ageing Spartan was overcome with grief.
There were no tears, but the strategos was lost and desolate.
He sat in his tent with his sons Philotas, Nicci and Hector, the body of Mothac laid out on a narrow pallet bed.
Parmenion sat beside the corpse, holding Mothac's still-warm dead hand.
'Come away for a while, Father,' said Nicci, moving to stand beside Parmenion. The Spartan looked up and nodded, but he did not move. Instead his gaze swung to his children: Philo tall and slender, the image of his father; Nicci shorter, dark-haired and stocky; and the youngest, Hector, so like his mother, fair of face and with wide, innocent eyes. They were men now, their childhood lost to him.
'I was your age, Hector,' said Parmenion, 'when first Mothac came to my service. He was a loyal friend. I pray you will all know such friendship in your lives.'
'He was a good man,' agreed Philo. Parmenion scanned his face for any sign of mockery, but there was nothing to see save regret.
'I have been a poor father to you all,' said Parmenion suddenly, the words surprising him. 'You deserved far more.
Mothac never ceased to nag me for my shortcomings. I wish… I wish. .'He stumbled to silence, then took a deep breath and sighed. 'But then there is nothing to gain by wishing to change the past. Let me say this: I am proud of you all.' He looked to Philo. 'We have had our. . disagreements, but you have done well. I saw you at the Granicus, rallying your men and leading the charge alongside Alexander. And I still remember the race you won against the champions of Greece — a run of skill and heart. Whatever else there is between us, Philotas, I want you to know that my heart swelled when I saw that race.' He turned to Nicci and Hector. 'Both of you have needed to fight to overcome the handicap of being sons of the Lion of Macedon. Always, more was expected of you. But not once have I heard you complain, and I know that the men who serve under you respect you both. I am growing old now and I cannot turn back the years and live my life differently. But here. . now… let me say that I love you all. And I ask your forgiveness.'
'There is nothing to forgive, Father,' said Hector, stepping into his father's embrace. Nicci moved to Parmenion's left, putting his arm around his father's shoulder. Only Philo remained apart from them. Walking to Mothac's body, he laid his hand on the dead man's chest.
Philo said nothing and did not look at his father, but his face was trembling and he stood with head bowed. Then, without a word, he spun on his heel and strode from the tent.
'Do not think badly of him,' said Nicci. 'Most of his life, he has wanted nothing more than to win your love. Give him time.'
'I think our time has run out,' answered Parmenion sadly.
Mothac was buried in the shadows of the Ida Mountains, in a hollow surrounded by tall trees.
And the army moved on towards the south.
The Issus, Autumn 333 BC
With a boldness few of his enemies could have expected, Alexander marched the allied army along the southern coastline of Asia Minor, through Mysia, Lydia and Caria. Many of the Greek cities immediately opened their gates, welcoming the victorious Macedonians as liberators and friends, and Alexander accepted then: tributes with a show of great humility. .
It contrasted with the savagery he unleashed on those towns and cities who tried to oppose him.
The Ionian city of Miletus was stormed by the King's Thracian mercenaries, and appalling tales of murder, rape and slaughter swept east across the Persian empire and west to the cities of Greece. Even Alexander's enemies could scarcely believe the scale of the atrocities.
It was even whispered that the Macedonian King himself was present, dressed as a common soldier and urging the Thracian savages to even greater depths of depravity.
When Alexander heard of it he flew into a towering rage and an immediate inquiry was launched, headed by an Athenian general. Miletian survivors were questioned and brought to the Macedonian camp. The Thracians were ordered to stand in file while the survivors walked among them, pointing out soldiers alleged to have taken part in the atrocities. By dusk on the fifth day of the inquiry, some seventy Thracians had been executed.
The swiftness of Alexander's justice earned him credit among the allies, and the Macedonian army moved on.
By the spring of the following year Alexander had reached the southern satrap of Cilicia on the coastline of the sea of Cyprus. No Persian army had come against him and Darius' general, Memnon, had moved his offensive to the sea -
sailing through the Aegean with a force of 300 warships, destroying Macedonian supply ships and raiding the coastal cities which had declared support for Alexander.
In the captured port of Aphrodesia Parmenion watched the unloading of three Greek ships which had broken through the Persian blockade. The first, an Athenian trireme, carried supplies of coin desperately needed to pay the troops.
Alexander had decreed that there should be no plunder of the liberated lands. All goods would be paid for and any soldier found guilty of looting or theft would be instantly executed. This was good policy, for it meant that the King could continue to be seen as a liberator and not an invader. But it carried with it a serious problem. If soldiers had to pay for food or clothing or women, then they needed coin — and that was in short supply.
Three gold shipments so far had been intercepted by the Persian fleet, and no Macedonian had received pay for more than three months. Disquiet was growing, morale low.
Parmenion counted the chests as they were carried from the ship and loaded on ox-carts, then mounted his stallion and led the convoy to the city treasury. Here he watched the unloading of the carts and left Ptolemy and Hector to supervise the storing of the treasure in the vaults below the palace.
Alexander was waiting in the upper rooms, Hephaistion and Craterus with him. The King looked tired, thought Parmenion, as he entered the room and bowed. Alexander, in full armour of shining gold-embossed iron, was sitting on a high-backed chair by the wide window.
'The coin is safely stored, sire,' said Parmenion, untying the chinstrap and lifting his helm from his head. His grey hair was streaked with sweat and he moved to a nearby table where a pitcher of watered wine had been set, with six goblets around it.
'What news of Darius?' asked the King, standing and moving to where Parmenion stood.
The Spartan had reached for the pitcher but now he paused. 'The moment is coming,' he said. 'Last year the Greek King ordered a full conscription from all the satrapies. But he was persuaded that our invasion was merely a swift incursion into Asia Minor in order to plunder the Ionian cities. Now he has realized his error. Our reports are not as complete as I would like, but it seems he is amassing an army of great size.'
'Where?' asked the King, his eyes gleaming.
'That is difficult to say. The troops are moving from all over the Empire. One army is reported at Mazara, which is some three weeks to the north-east of us. Another is said to be at Tarsus, a week's march to the east. Yet another is gathering in Syria. There may be more.'