shouldn't drink."
"Yes, you're right."
We marched along the empty street, heading uphill toward the palace.
"Trouble is," Pausanias said, "that young Ptolemaios has his eye on her. And she taps you on the shoulder instead."
Ptolemaios was one of Alexandros' Companions, I knew. Rumored to be a bastard son of Philip, as well.
"Perhaps she's merely trying to make him jealous," I half-joked, still wondering how I did get into Thais' house. And bed.
"That kind of jealousy leads to murder, Orion. And blood feuds."
I shrugged light-heartedly. "I have no family to carry on a blood feud after I'm gone."
"Thank the gods for small favors," he muttered.
As we neared the palace wall a question popped into my mind. "How did you know where I was?"
Pausanias fixed me with a surly glance. "One of the queen's servants woke me before cock's crow and warned me of it. Said I'd better get you out of there before Ptolemaios finds out about it."
"And how did this servant know?"
"I told you she was one of the queen's servants. The witch knows everything that happens in the palace—sometimes before it even happens."
Chapter 8
The air of the palace seethed with intrigue. The king was conducting one military campaign after another along his borders while at the same time negotiating with delegations from regions as far-flung as the Peloponnesus and Syracuse in Sicily, as well as receiving ambassadors from the Great King of Persia.
No one seemed to know what Philip was aiming at, what his goals were. There was no dearth of opinions on the subject, however. I heard as many different guesses as there were men speaking on the subject. Philip wanted to rule all of the Greeks, said one. He wanted to conquer the Persian Empire, said another. No, he wanted to be dictator of Thebes, the city where he had spent several of his younger years as a royal hostage. No, he wanted to humiliate Athens and hang Demosthenes by his scrawny neck. Nonsense, said still another, his real intention is to expand Macedonian colonies northward into the backward, bickering tribes of the Balkans, but to do that he must safeguard the kingdom's southern borders, where the great cities of Thebes and Athens and the others are waiting for him to turn his back.
I was one of the guards standing behind Philip's throne the afternoon that the Persians were presented to the king. They were exotic in their long silk robes of many colors, bedecked with sparkling jewels. They brought magnificent gifts of spices and incense from their new king, Dareios III. Philip accepted them as if they were his due and gave in return a hundred cavalry horses: all geldings, I learned later. The other guardsmen laughed themselves sick over Philip's trick.
The king himself was not even smiling after the Persians left his court.
"Spies," he said grimly to Parmenio and Antipatros, after the Persians had left. "They're here to see how strong we are, how well we're getting along against Athens."
"I'll bet they're heading straight for Athens now, to tell Demosthenes everything they learned here," said Antipatros.
"And to pour more gold into his hands," added Parmenio.
There were other intrigues, as well, much closer to the court. Attalos was pushing his young niece, Kleopatra, as a fitting bride for Philip. I knew that the king had taken several wives, mainly as diplomatic gestures, and he had a powerful sexual appetite: male or female did not much concern him as long as they were young and pretty.
Kleopatra was such a common name among the Macedonians that many of the nobles at court referred to the fourteen-year-old niece of Attalos by an honorary name that Philip had bestowed on her: Eurydice, the name of the supernally beautiful wife of legendary Orpheos. Orpheos had voluntarily descended into Hades to recover his dead love. I thought that Olympias would rather see Philip in hell before she would accept his marriage to Kleopatra/Eurydice.
Olympias was scheming constantly. She had driven all of
"Yes, you're right."
We marched along the empty street, heading uphill toward the palace.
"Trouble is," Pausanias said, "that young Ptolemaios has his eye on her. And she taps you on the shoulder instead."
Ptolemaios was one of Alexandros' Companions, I knew. Rumored to be a bastard son of Philip, as well.
"Perhaps she's merely trying to make him jealous," I half-joked, still wondering how I did get into Thais' house. And bed.
"That kind of jealousy leads to murder, Orion. And blood feuds."
I shrugged light-heartedly. "I have no family to carry on a blood feud after I'm gone."
"Thank the gods for small favors," he muttered.
As we neared the palace wall a question popped into my mind. "How did you know where I was?"
Pausanias fixed me with a surly glance. "One of the queen's servants woke me before cock's crow and warned me of it. Said I'd better get you out of there before Ptolemaios finds out about it."
"And how did this servant know?"
"I told you she was one of the queen's servants. The witch knows everything that happens in the palace—sometimes before it even happens."
Chapter 8
The air of the palace seethed with intrigue. The king was conducting one military campaign after another along his borders while at the same time negotiating with delegations from regions as far-flung as the Peloponnesus and Syracuse in Sicily, as well as receiving ambassadors from the Great King of Persia.
No one seemed to know what Philip was aiming at, what his goals were. There was no dearth of opinions on the subject, however. I heard as many different guesses as there were men speaking on the subject. Philip wanted to rule all of the Greeks, said one. He wanted to conquer the Persian Empire, said another. No, he wanted to be dictator of Thebes, the city where he had spent several of his younger years as a royal hostage. No, he wanted to humiliate Athens and hang Demosthenes by his scrawny neck. Nonsense, said still another, his real intention is to expand Macedonian colonies northward into the backward, bickering tribes of the Balkans, but to do that he must safeguard the kingdom's southern borders, where the great cities of Thebes and Athens and the others are waiting for him to turn his back.
I was one of the guards standing behind Philip's throne the afternoon that the Persians were presented to the king. They were exotic in their long silk robes of many colors, bedecked with sparkling jewels. They brought magnificent gifts of spices and incense from their new king, Dareios III. Philip accepted them as if they were his due and gave in return a hundred cavalry horses: all geldings, I learned later. The other guardsmen laughed themselves sick over Philip's trick.
The king himself was not even smiling after the Persians left his court.
"Spies," he said grimly to Parmenio and Antipatros, after the Persians had left. "They're here to see how strong we are, how well we're getting along against Athens."
"I'll bet they're heading straight for Athens now, to tell Demosthenes everything they learned here," said Antipatros.
"And to pour more gold into his hands," added Parmenio.
There were other intrigues, as well, much closer to the court. Attalos was pushing his young niece, Kleopatra, as a fitting bride for Philip. I knew that the king had taken several wives, mainly as diplomatic gestures, and he had a powerful sexual appetite: male or female did not much concern him as long as they were young and pretty.
Kleopatra was such a common name among the Macedonians that many of the nobles at court referred to the fourteen-year-old niece of Attalos by an honorary name that Philip had bestowed on her: Eurydice, the name of the supernally beautiful wife of legendary Orpheos. Orpheos had voluntarily descended into Hades to recover his dead love. I thought that Olympias would rather see Philip in hell before she would accept his marriage to Kleopatra/Eurydice.
Olympias was scheming constantly. She had driven all of
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