Alexander (Vol. 3) (Alexander Trilogy) by Valerio Massimo Manfredi

speak with him,’ said Eumenes. ‘Nearchus will recognize him because he once saw him on Cyprus.’
    ‘I will try. And then?’
    ‘There is a chance that we might just lose in battle against a million men. Some help would be most useful.’
    ‘You want me to persuade him to betray Darius.’
    ‘Something like that,’ said Eumolpus.
    ‘I’ll talk to Alexander about it.’
    Are you off your head?’ said Eumenes.
    ‘Otherwise there’s nothing to be done.’
    Eumolpus shook his head, ‘Stupid boys who just don’t want to listen to those who know so much more than they do . . . do as you wish then, you go on and have your head split open.’ He left, followed by Eumenes, and he just missed Alexander who was taking Peritas for a walk along the seashore. The dog immediately started barking in their direction and Eumenes looked first at Peritas and then at the informer and asked him, ‘What’s your wig made of?’
    Hephaestion’s army took seven days to reach the banks of the Euphrates at Thapsacus, a city full of merchants, of travellers, of livestock and wares of all kinds. Thapsacus teemed with life because it was the only fording point on the river.
    Although located in the interior, the city was Phoenician in origin and its name indeed meant ‘ford’ or ‘passage’. There was nothing particularly attractive about it from an aesthetic point of view – no monuments or temples, and not even any squares with porticoes and statues. Nevertheless, it was pleasant, thanks to the hustle and bustle of the people there, the merchants’ shouting and the incredible number of prostitutes who plied their wares with the mule and camel drivers who worked along the banks of the great river. The language spoken at Thapsacus was a curious mixture of Syrian, Cilician, Phoenician and Aramaic with the occasional word of Greek.
    Hephaestion completed his first reconnaissance tour and immediately realized that for the moment there was no possibility of fording the river; it had already begun to rain up in the mountains and the river was too swollen. The only way to cross was to build a bridge and so the Phoenician carpenters set to work under Nearchus’s command. The planks were all marked with red-hot brands bearing letters from the Phoenician alphabet for matching up the tenon joints.
    When all the barges were ready, they started assembling the bridge – the mariners brought each pontoon into position, anchored it to the riverbed, attached it firmly to the previous pontoon and then laid out the wooden planks and raised the parapet. The work had only just begun when Mazaeus’s troops appeared – Syrian and Arab cavalry together with Greek heavy infantry. They immediately began disruptive action – incursions to the middle of the river with fire arrows, and naphtha-laden fireboats sent from upstream at night; fast and burning bright they came, globes of flame that crashed against Nearchus’s constructions, setting them alight.
    Thus the days went by without any progress being made and the moment when Alexander’s army would appear, with ten thousand horses and two thousand carts full of provisions and equipment, ready to cross the Euphrates, was drawing near. Hephaestion hated the idea of being behind schedule and he often spoke to Nearchus in an attempt to find some solution. One night, while they were sitting on the riverbank discussing what should be done, Nearchus clapped him on the back, ‘Look’
    At what?’
    At that man.’
    Hephaestion looked across to the other bank where Nearchus pointed and saw a man alone, astride a horse, holding up a lighted torch.
    ‘Who can it be?’
    ‘It looks as though whoever it is wants to speak to us.’
    ‘What shall we do?’
    ‘I think you should go over there. Take a boat, get yourself ferried across and listen to what he has to say. We’ll try to provide you with cover, if it proves necessary.’
    Hephaestion agreed, had himself ferried across to the other bank and stood