Storms over Babylon Read online

  ‘When did Ptolemy find out about this?’ My voice shook.

  ‘I think he’s known for some time. But he didn’t dare tell me.’

  ‘Did you tell him you knew he was sleeping with Roxanne?’ I asked.

  ‘Of course. At first, he thought I was going to kill him. He knelt in front of me and said he would understand.’

  I laughed mirthlessly. ‘He did? What happens now?’

  ‘We send messages. The boy will be safe, I think, and we’ll see him when we arrive in Babylon.’

  ‘Who will take care of him until then? Will Roxanne get to him first, or will we?’

  ‘Ptolemy said he was to be sent to Babylon, that’s all he overheard.’

  ‘Who exactly did he overhear?’

  ‘Roxanne and one of her priests. The man she sent to fetch him is a priest of the temple of Apollo. To make sure that they would get the boy they also sent a priestess from the temple of Artemis.’

  ‘The cold and merciless goddess,’ I said, shivering.

  ‘Nobody will dare harm him; he’s protected by the moon herself. Don’t worry. We’ll find him in Babylon.’

  ‘ Sharwah won’t let him leave the valley. Maybe we don’t have to worry.’

  Alexander pulled me to my feet and drew me close to him. ‘He will have to let him go. Roxanne used the royal seal on the order. Lysimachus gave it to her. He thought he was doing me a favour. He couldn’t understand why I never tried to see Roxanne. I have to tell you something else Ptolemy told me. Lysimachus is sharing her bed now. I’m sure that’s what made Ptolemy talk.’

  ‘Lysimachus gave Roxanne the royal seal? How could he do such a thing?’ I shivered and looked over Alexander’s shoulder, as if I could see past the thousand miles that separated us from the valley of Nysa. ‘How long will it take for Paul to arrive in Babylon?’

  ‘I’m not sure, it depends on the passes and the weather,’ said Alexander.

  ‘And when will we arrive?’

  ‘I have no idea,’ he admitted.

  ‘Great.’ I nearly kept the sarcasm out of my voice.

  Alexander blushed. He looked down at his feet and frowned. Finally he said, ‘I don’t know what to say, Ashley. I thought he would be safe there. I never would have believed Roxanne capable of doing something like this. I feel as helpless as you do. I’m sorry.’ He looked up at me, his eyes pained.

  I was furious, but I couldn’t hold him responsible. He had sworn not to touch Roxanne, and she was just paying him back for all the slights, real or imaginary, she blamed on him, starting with the death of her child. His child. I put my hand on his arm and gave him a little squeeze. ‘And I’m sorry too. I keep forgetting that he was your son. It must have hurt you very much.’

  Alexander looked down at Chiron. ‘I never told her how sorry I was. Do you think I was unkind?’

  ‘At the time we thought she murdered the babe,’ I reminded him.

  ‘I still do,’ he said. ‘Now I worry about Paul.’

  ‘Do you remember what Sharwah said about him being protected by the moon? I do believe he is protected by something.’ I tried to sound brave.

  Alexander nodded but didn’t smile. ‘I hate being so far away.’

  ‘I do too,’ I said bleakly. I gathered up the washing and put it on the pony’s back. ‘As long as you’re here you might as well help. Can you take Chiron?’ I put my tunic on and untied his horse.

  I led the horses while Alexander carried Chiron. We were silent as we picked our way across the stony ground. I had never wanted to leave my son, Paul. Now he was in danger again, and there was nothing I could do; there were no aeroplanes, trains, telephones, or police officers to call. All we could do was send messages by horse and by carrier pigeon, and pray that they arrive in time to save the life of our first-born son. Until we got to Babylon, we had lots of time to wait and to dread. Babylon, where everything would be decided. Babylon, where I hoped to find our son alive, and where Alexander was to die.

  Although the land we were travelling through was arid, it was full of life. It was also treacherous in ways we did not expect. We’d been marching for three weeks, and everyone was tired. Alexander had been looking for a likely spot to set up camp in order to let the stragglers catch up and to organize the army. We were approaching deep sand and the wagons had to be lightened. So he and the generals decided to bivouac in a long wide valley.

  We entered the valley and the army camped on one side of a sloping plateau, high above the riverbed. Thousands of tents were set up in straight lines. Then the supply tents, smithy tents, and cooks set up shop around them. The horses were corralled downstream from us, but also on a plateau. Thick woods grew on the far side of the valley opposite the encampment. When the civilians started to arrive with their wagons, sometimes days after the army, the only place left to camp was in the valley bottom, along the banks of the stream.

  The stream was shallow, though wide, and some soldiers immediately set about building a bathhouse. Other soldiers went into the woods to gather firewood. Priests began making sacrifices to the various gods, and the cooks heated their clay pots to bake bread.

  I was glad to be travelling with the head of the army. Axiom had chosen a tranquil spot not far from the stream. We were near the kitchen tents, and the cooks spoiled Chiron, saving little treats for him when they fixed the rations. Today someone had found a plover’s nest and presented the eggs to me.

  I thanked the man who’d brought me the eggs, wishing I had Alexander’s formidable memory for names. Since there were at least two hundred cooks travelling with us, I suppose I could be forgiven for not knowing all of them. Then I went outside and watched the shepherds milking the goats. Chiron would have fresh milk for dinner and hard-boiled eggs.

  I sniffed the air and looked towards the horizon. In the desert, the air is so dry that a rainstorm can be smelled before it’s seen. I smelled rain, but the sky was still clear except for a violet smudge near the faraway mountains. The storm was passing to the north.

  That evening we read some of The Odyssey, and we got to the part where Hermes goes to see Calypso and tells her she must give up her lover, Ulysses. Alexander was reading. He had the best reading voice. When he got to that part, he faltered though. He looked at me and shivered.

  I glanced at Plexis, who was sitting on his pallet, listening quietly. ‘What do you think about that?’ I asked.

  His face was paler than normal and he spoke slowly. ‘I think that Calypso is right; the gods are jealous. They guard their women.’

  ‘But it sounds as if their women don’t want to be guarded,’ I said, ‘Listen to what Calypso is saying!’ I leaned over Alexander’s shoulder and read, ‘“When Eos of the rosy fingertips fell in love with Orion, you gods were so jealous that you sent the chaste and merciless Artemis to kill him. Then, when fair-haired Demeter gave her heart to Jason, and in a newly ploughed field gave her body to him three times, Zeus was so jealous he killed Jason with a brilliant lightning bolt. Now the gods begrudge me my lover? I saved this man when he shipwrecked, alone on his boat after Zeus capsized and destroyed his vessel as it sailed upon the wine-dark sea. I saved him and promised to make him immortal, for ever young …”—’

  I broke off and peered at Plexis. ‘Does that sound like she wants to be guarded? It sounds like she wants to be left alone with her lover.’

  ‘I think she should listen to Hermes and let him go,’ said Plexis. ‘Zeus’s ire is to be feared above all things.’

  ‘What form does his ire take?’ I teased gently.

  However, Plexis was serious. His eyes were wide as he looked across the tent at me. ‘I would brave the anger of Zeus for you, my lady, but at least I know what I risk. I will tell you this; his anger is like a great storm that washes over everything. His lightning bolts are deadly weapons and the rain he sends can wash away the world.’

  I flushed. I didn’t like it when the conversation turned towards the gods. For one thing, talk about them made me uneasy. Plexis
was sure they existed. For him, like in the stories, they were omnipresent, in every stream and tree, and always ready to make life difficult for us mortals. ‘Can we read some more?’ I asked. ‘Please? I won’t interrupt, and I won’t take sides anymore.’

  ‘Take sides?’ Alexander turned towards me, a curious look on his face.

  ‘Well, I won’t say that Zeus has no business killing the goddess’s lovers.’

  ‘You can say that if you want to,’ said Plexis. ‘As a matter of fact, I’m hoping you will insist on that point.’

  ‘You don’t still think I’m a goddess?’ I said crossly. ‘Because if you’re going to go scaring the cooks again …’

  ‘I’m sorry about that,’ chuckled Plexis. He loved playing jokes, but sometimes he went too far. He knew I was trying to wean Chiron so he’d gone to see the cooks and I had been presented with thirty-five, pure white nanny goats. Milk goats, all of them. They had been tied outside the tent and they’d baa’d all night long, making any sleep impossible. I’d managed to get rid of the goats, giving them back to the shepherds. However, the cooks hadn’t stopped and this evening an enormous pot of honey had been found outside the tent-flap. I had Plexis carry it back – we couldn’t eat it all, and I wanted the soldiers to be able to have a treat. Honey was the only sweetener known at that time and the cooks made honey-cakes and honeyed almonds with it.

  ‘I don’t think you’re a goddess,’ said Plexis, ‘But do you think maybe the gods think you are?’

  ‘They don’t.’ I lay back on the bed. ‘Can you read some more, Alexander?’

  ‘No, I’m tired.’ Alexander passed me the story. ‘Maybe Axiom will read.’

  However, Axiom shook his head and yawned. He was tired too. Brazza was a deaf-mute, he couldn’t read aloud, and Plexis had a sore throat from yelling at the cavalry all day long. I couldn’t read aloud very well at all. Ancient Greek was lacking in punctuation and all the words were stuck together. I would run out of breath and then break off at the wrong point, destroying the careful rhythm and beauty of the poem. I sighed and carefully rolled up the precious scroll, wondering how Ulysses was going to get off the island where he’d been shipwrecked.

  Next morning, I took all the bedding outside. Axiom, Brazza, and I washed it. It wasn’t a very interesting day, except, for some reason, I decided I didn’t like where the tent was set up and decided to move it.

  It took us all morning, but we moved everything to a little hill overlooking the encampment. It was the first time I’d ever made a decision like that. Normally Axiom picked out the place where the tent would be, but he didn’t say anything. He just sighed when I showed him where I wanted to move.

  Once up on the hill, I felt much better. The reason I wanted to move may have been the crowding. Usually our tent was isolated. However, the families following the army were camped down by the riverside, and more and more people were arriving. Soon the valley was packed solid with tents and wagons. It was noisy, and I was glad to be away from the bustle.

  Then I decided I wanted to take a real bath, so I gave Chiron to Brazza and went to inspect the new sauna. It was just how I liked it. A large bathtub in one corner, a pile of steaming rocks, a cauldron of hot water, a bucket of soft clay soap, and twenty-five naked soldiers.

  I washed my hair, admired the scenery, and gave my traditional blessing in English. ‘Great bodies, guys, keep up the good work.’

  Afterwards, I went to the mess tent and spoke to some Egyptian cooks. They were busy making beer, their favourite drink. The Greeks preferred wine and the Persians preferred cooked wine that resembled mead. The cooks had a friendly rivalry among them. The Egyptians made the best bread, the Persians made delicious meat dishes, and the Greeks had the nicest goat cheese. Since we’d been to India, the cooks had stocked up on tons of spices. Now the whole camp smelled like curry. Before, the strongest smell had been garlic. Now, it could be cardamom, cinnamon, curry, or even mint, depending on the menu. Today it was curry, and I noticed most of the goats were missing.

  I took a wineskin and filled it with fresh beer. The cooks gave me a honey-cake for Chiron. I thanked them and wandered back to the tent. The air was shimmering with heat. My nerves were tingling. I looked up at the sky and frowned. The smell of rain was very sharp but, as before, there was only the faintest smudge of dark clouds on the horizon. I was sure it would rain and decided to gather up all the bedclothes before they were ruined.

  The blankets were still damp, but I insisted. Axiom sighed again – I was being unreasonable that day – and he set up the clothes line inside the tent. I was nervous for some reason. I could always tell when a storm was coming. The electricity in the air was making goose bumps on my arms. Even Chiron was cranky, although the honey-cake calmed him down quickly.

  We ate dinner in the tent. It was spicy curried goat and Egyptian beer. Plexis and Alexander took turns reading from The Odyssey. We were right at the part where Ulysses was in the midst of a raging storm at sea. His raft had been smashed to pieces but luckily, a sea-nymph gave him a magic scarf to wrap around his chest. Sort of like a life jacket, I decided. He was about to be smashed against the cliffs by a giant wave, when Athena, the goddess with the parti-coloured eyes, saved him. At that moment, a huge clap of thunder shook the tent and we all jumped.

  We stared uneasily at each other. The lamp swung giddily as a gust of wind and rain swept into the tent. Plexis leapt up and fastened the tent flap, while Axiom made sure that the tent pole was secured. Brazza picked up Chiron, who was wailing with fright, and Alexander bent his head back down to the story, intending to read on. However, thunder continued to boom and his words were lost in the storm. He shrugged, rolled the parchment up carefully, and put it in the box at the foot of the bed. Plexis got his out mending, and Axiom and I sorted through the bedcovers, putting the dry ones on the beds and shaking the damp ones out and hanging them up again.

  Brazza played with Chiron until the little boy dropped off to sleep, then he put him in his hammock. I curled up next to Alexander and he rubbed my back and tickled my neck. Driving rain and howling wind lasted nearly an hour. The storm passed by, moving towards the hills. Axiom blew out the lamp and I yawned sleepily. Tomorrow I was planning on taking a ride; I hadn’t ridden Lenae in a week. I could take a picnic and maybe Plexis could come with me. I lay in bed planning what I would take: a jug of beer, a loaf of freshly baked Egyptian bread with cardamom seeds, soft goat’s cheese with honey, an apple, some cold curried goat, a handful of raisins...sleep claimed me before I could finish my picnic.

  That night there was a flash flood. A solid wall of muddy water crashed into the encampment, sweeping away tents, people, livestock, and wagons full of supplies. We were very lucky. I had insisted on camping on a small rise, so we were spared, but the families that followed the army were less fortunate. They had camped by the stream, and in ten minutes thousands of people were swept away with their belongings. It was a terrible loss. More people died in that one flood than in Alexander’s worst battle.

  The noise was like a freight train crashing into the camp. We were catapulted out of our beds by the roar. It was worse than anything I’d ever heard before. Screams and cries followed it, and then an eerie silence. Chiron started wailing.

  Alexander leapt out of bed and crashed into Plexis, both men yelled as they hit the floor. Axiom jumped up and quickly lit the lamp while Brazza, who’d felt the vibration of the noise, groped for a torch. We piled out of the tent, torches held high, and stared into the darkness.

  Low clouds blocked the moonlight and there were no stars. The blackness was lit by torches as soldiers rushed about. Flickering lights reflected off the white water in the gorge. Instead of a shallow stream, there was now a raging torrent. We stared in horror at the devastation. Nearly half the civilian camp had disappeared. Where camp fires and torches normally dotted the ground, there was nothing but swift churning water, and empty darkness instead of a sleeping camp.

  We slept no more. Soldiers r
ushed downstream, frantically searching for survivors. I walked along the banks of the river, my torch held in shaking hands, and pulled everything I could find out of the water.

  I found rugs, branches, tent-poles, tunics, a wooden doll, three nearly drowned children, a drowned woman, and a live camel that bit me.

  The three children were carried to the infirmary by soldiers who’d come running at my cries. The drowned woman was impaled on a tent pole and I couldn’t pull her off. I screamed and some soldiers came to help me. The camel was thrashing in the shallows, its legs tangled in a bush. I tried to put a rope around its neck and the damn beast bit my arm. I left it, sure it would be all right.

  Further downstream, the flood had piled hundreds of tents upon each other. We saved only five people from that mess. Nearly five hundred perished on the river bend. The tents were heavy with water and the people inside them were drowned or smothered. After a few hours of helping the soldiers trying to find survivors, I was so deeply in shock I thought couldn’t feel anymore.

  I pulled a sodden rug off a child’s body and choked back a scream. The little girl was still clutching her doll. Her face was streaked with mud and I gently wiped it away. Then I picked her up and carried her to the long line of bodies lying on the ground. But there I was stuck. I didn’t want to put her down. I couldn’t put her down with the other bodies. I honestly don’t know what I was thinking, but I couldn’t let go. All I could do was stand there and sob. One of the soldiers ran to get Usse when I refused to let go of the child. He gently took her from my arms and led me back to our tent.

  The sound of graves being dug and rocks being piled to form cairns lasted for days. I sat in the tent and tried to shut out the noise, but there was no way to do so. After a week we left, leaving behind us nearly five thousand graves of men, women, and children.

  The army was stunned. We walked with our heads bowed and tears on our cheeks. The sobs and laments of the men and women who’d lost everything followed us. They had lost their families, their belongings, and their animals. Alexander promised everyone that they would never want as long as they followed him. He swore to replace their belongings, but their families would lie for ever beneath the rocky ground in Gedrosia.