Alexander (Vol. 3) (Alexander Trilogy)

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Authors: Valerio Massimo Manfredi
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joking.’
    ‘Well then he can joke about someone else, because next time . . .’
    Has anyone seen Eumolpus of Soloi?’ Hephaestion asked, just to change the subject.
    ‘I think he’s behind us with the women’s caravan,’ replied Seleucus. Why, what do you want of him?’
    ‘Nothing: I simply have to deliver a present. See you all soon,’ and he leaped on to his horse and set off to where the women’s camp was being pitched. He found Eumolpus sitting outside his own tent, being attended to by a pair of eunuchs – one was wafting him with a fan while the other was serving a meal on a small well-laid table.
    ‘I don’t want to hear any stupid allusions to the sad events surrounding my imprisonment,’ said the informer as soon as he saw Hephaestion dismount before him.
    ‘Don’t worry, I’m only here to deliver a present.’
    ‘A present?’
    ‘Yes, a present from an enemy. I was actually thinking of letting Alexander know about it. In my humble opinion if we were to squeeze your balls in an olive press then we might just hear some interesting stories from you.’
    ‘Shut up, snot-nose, and let me see what this is all about.’
    Hephaestion handed him the statuette. Eumolpus studied it carefully: An enemy you said? And who might this enemy be?’
    ‘The Satrap of Babylonia – Mazaeus. He’s a real bigwig, if I’m not mistaken.’
    Eumolpus said nothing and continued scrutinizing the statuette and then, suddenly, he raised it above his head and struck it sharply against the edge of his table, shattering it into small pieces. Lying there was a small roll of papyrus, thickly covered with cuneiform lettering.
    ‘Scheming with the enemy – things don’t look good for you, Eumolpus.’
    Eumolpus of Soloi rolled up the note, stood up and set off on foot towards the military camp.
    ‘Hey! Where are you going?’
    ‘To look for someone capable of thinking.’
    ‘Mind you don’t get your arse bitten off . . . Peritas is around somewhere!’ shouted Hephaestion. The informer did not even turn round, but his right hand instinctively moved to cover the area mentioned.
    He found Eumenes in the commissariat tent, making an inventory of equipment, weapons and materials. With a gesture he let the Secretary know that he wanted to speak to him and Eumenes immediately left the registers to an assistant.
    ‘What’s new?’
    ‘A message from Mazaeus.’
    ‘The Satrap of Babylonia. By Zeus!’
    ‘And the Great King’s right-hand man.’
    What does he have to say?’
    ‘He is willing . . . to help us on the battlefield, providing we agree to reconfirm him in his position as governor of Babylonia.’
    ‘Do you have any means of replying?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Tell him we agree.’
    ‘But he will want some form of guarantee.’
    What kind of guarantee?’
    ‘I don’t know . . . a message from the King.’
    We can manage that. In the past I have written letters in Alexander’s hand and with his seal. Drop by my tent tonight and I will give you everything you require – but take that wig off for Zeus’s sake, if you want to keep your rear end intact. Peritas is around somewhere with Alexander.’
    ‘I’ve already been warned about that,’ replied Eumolpus as he regretfully relieved his bald head of its embellishment, placing the wig in his bag. ‘He’s already chewed up a fur beret that was worth a small fortune. If he corners me I’ll throw him the whole bag.’
    He moved off and soon all that could be seen was his bald head shining under the sun as he walked away.
    *
     
    The army began moving eastwards the following day, keeping the mountains of Armenia to the left and the desert to the right. The officers leading the march had recruited some local guides because there were neither maps nor descriptions of the routes to be taken in crossing these lands. Indeed, as they advanced these officers made use of their own instruments and portable drawing boards to create maps that were as accurate as

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