is that?” Miriam asked.
“When father divorced her just before his . . .” Heblinked, “. . . well, just before his death, he asked his drinking companions what they thought. Of course, they all agreed.
Memnon was standing on guard duty. ‘Memnon,’ my father shouted, ‘what do you think?’ Memnon bawled back, ‘That you are a bloody
fool.’” Alexander smiled and shook his head. “Well, you know father, he bellowed with laughter. He even asked Memnon if
he’d
like to marry Olympias; that’s when the old soldier really warmed the cockles of my mother’s heart. ‘Men like me,’ he replied,
‘mere mortals, do not marry goddesses.’ Mother sent him a ring. A pledge of eternal friendship. And, as you know, Miriam,”
he hitched up his military cloak for it had turned cold, “when mother gives an oath for life or death, she keeps it. I don’t
think . . .” he threw the shriveled olive on the ground and squashed it under his foot, “. . . Memnon committed suicide. He
was an old soldier, he wouldn’t have had the imagination.”
“But you saw the room,” Simeon objected. “The walls, the ceiling, the floor were of stone. The door would need a battering
ram!”
“The assassin could have entered by the window,” Alexander said weakly.
“Oh, come!” Simeon grasped his dagger hilt. “I’m a clerk, I’m a scribe, my lord, but even a mouse like me would fight. Did
Memnon, one of your father’s heroes, just sit there and allow someone to pick him up and throw him through a window? ‘Oh,
good morning,’ Memnon must have said, ‘what are you doing here?’ ‘I’ve come to kill you, throw you out the window.’”
“And there’s the dog,” Miriam added. “He may be friendly but I doubt he would just sit there. If it turned nasty he could
be savage; Hercules has the strength and cunning of a panther.”
“Ah, well.” Alexander moved a ringlet of hair from Miriam’s brow. “Investigate this matter but, remember, they don’t like
you, Miriam. Aye, and don’t tell me it’s because you’re flat-chested with a deep voice. They’ve heard of my two Israelites
spies. Do you know that mother wanted to keep you at Pella. To protect her? Would you have liked that, Miriam? Sitting by
Olympias while she spins that bloody wheel of hers?” He made to brush by her but Miriam stood her ground.
“If you want to send us back, my lord . . .”
“Oh don’t be stupid, I’m only teasing. You, Ptolemy, Niarchos, and Simeon were all with me when I was at the academy in the
groves of Midas. I wonder what Aristotle is going to write when he hears about my destruction of Thebes.”
“The Athenians and the rest demanded that it be leveled.”
“Ah yes, Athens. Strange isn’t it, that there are so many connections between Thebes and Athens? In the legend, Oedipus fled
to Athens. Sophocles died in Athens, his tomb is near the city gates. But come, let’s see the shrine.”
They left the olive grove and took the white chalky path. Miriam looked around; the two soldiers still followed them. They
turned a corner. Miriam stopped and gasped. The temple or shrine was small, of white stone; the trees around it heightened
the atmosphere of serenity and coolness, it was as if Thebes still lived. Four soldiers lounged on the steps, an officer and
three guardsmen. They scrambled to their feet as Alexander approached, desperately strapping on war belts, looking for shields
and lances.
“Oh, for the love of Mother,” Alexander bawled, “what do you think I am, a Theban war party?”
The captain threw his belt away and came down the steps. He genuflected and kissed Alexander’s ring.
“Everything is in order here?”
“Yes, my lord,” the soldier replied, getting up. He glanced at Miriam and Simeon then back along the path to where the two
soldiers stood.
“They are inside, my lord.”
“Who are?”
“The priestesses, sir. They have been here most of the
“When father divorced her just before his . . .” Heblinked, “. . . well, just before his death, he asked his drinking companions what they thought. Of course, they all agreed.
Memnon was standing on guard duty. ‘Memnon,’ my father shouted, ‘what do you think?’ Memnon bawled back, ‘That you are a bloody
fool.’” Alexander smiled and shook his head. “Well, you know father, he bellowed with laughter. He even asked Memnon if
he’d
like to marry Olympias; that’s when the old soldier really warmed the cockles of my mother’s heart. ‘Men like me,’ he replied,
‘mere mortals, do not marry goddesses.’ Mother sent him a ring. A pledge of eternal friendship. And, as you know, Miriam,”
he hitched up his military cloak for it had turned cold, “when mother gives an oath for life or death, she keeps it. I don’t
think . . .” he threw the shriveled olive on the ground and squashed it under his foot, “. . . Memnon committed suicide. He
was an old soldier, he wouldn’t have had the imagination.”
“But you saw the room,” Simeon objected. “The walls, the ceiling, the floor were of stone. The door would need a battering
ram!”
“The assassin could have entered by the window,” Alexander said weakly.
“Oh, come!” Simeon grasped his dagger hilt. “I’m a clerk, I’m a scribe, my lord, but even a mouse like me would fight. Did
Memnon, one of your father’s heroes, just sit there and allow someone to pick him up and throw him through a window? ‘Oh,
good morning,’ Memnon must have said, ‘what are you doing here?’ ‘I’ve come to kill you, throw you out the window.’”
“And there’s the dog,” Miriam added. “He may be friendly but I doubt he would just sit there. If it turned nasty he could
be savage; Hercules has the strength and cunning of a panther.”
“Ah, well.” Alexander moved a ringlet of hair from Miriam’s brow. “Investigate this matter but, remember, they don’t like
you, Miriam. Aye, and don’t tell me it’s because you’re flat-chested with a deep voice. They’ve heard of my two Israelites
spies. Do you know that mother wanted to keep you at Pella. To protect her? Would you have liked that, Miriam? Sitting by
Olympias while she spins that bloody wheel of hers?” He made to brush by her but Miriam stood her ground.
“If you want to send us back, my lord . . .”
“Oh don’t be stupid, I’m only teasing. You, Ptolemy, Niarchos, and Simeon were all with me when I was at the academy in the
groves of Midas. I wonder what Aristotle is going to write when he hears about my destruction of Thebes.”
“The Athenians and the rest demanded that it be leveled.”
“Ah yes, Athens. Strange isn’t it, that there are so many connections between Thebes and Athens? In the legend, Oedipus fled
to Athens. Sophocles died in Athens, his tomb is near the city gates. But come, let’s see the shrine.”
They left the olive grove and took the white chalky path. Miriam looked around; the two soldiers still followed them. They
turned a corner. Miriam stopped and gasped. The temple or shrine was small, of white stone; the trees around it heightened
the atmosphere of serenity and coolness, it was as if Thebes still lived. Four soldiers lounged on the steps, an officer and
three guardsmen. They scrambled to their feet as Alexander approached, desperately strapping on war belts, looking for shields
and lances.
“Oh, for the love of Mother,” Alexander bawled, “what do you think I am, a Theban war party?”
The captain threw his belt away and came down the steps. He genuflected and kissed Alexander’s ring.
“Everything is in order here?”
“Yes, my lord,” the soldier replied, getting up. He glanced at Miriam and Simeon then back along the path to where the two
soldiers stood.
“They are inside, my lord.”
“Who are?”
“The priestesses, sir. They have been here most of the
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