“Or those who get in your way. Do I get in your way, Hecaetus?”
“I am the king’s searcher-out of secrets,” Hecaetus replied defensively. “But no, my dear, I like you. I’ve watched those eyes of yours, sharp and shrewd. You mean me no ill. You don’t mock me like the others do.”
“And your friend Simothaeus?” Miriam asked.
“Well I’ve spent the day. .” Hecaetus began. He waved his hands; the fingernails were gaudily painted. “Some of these soldiers are such bitches,” he lisped. “You share a cup of wine with them and they want their hand in your crotch. And no, I don’t enjoy it. They are far too rough; not like my boys.” Hecaetus turned and looked over his shoulder.
Miriam knew all about Hecaetus’s “boys”: effete but courageous; where their master went, they always followed. It would be a foolish soldier, indeed, who tried to take liberties with Hecaetus.
“Do you want to bring your boys in here?” Miriam asked. “Though it could get rather crowded.”
“Don’t be such a minx!” Hecaetus mewed like a cat. He patted her hand. “You are far too hard, Miriam; I am your friend, I always will be. We should share what we know, shouldn’t we?”
Miriam stared at the light-blue eyes so innocent, so child-like. How many men, she wondered, had he trapped with that pleading slightly hurt look?
“I’m waiting Hecaetus.”
“Oh, go on!” Hecaetus tapped Simothaeus on the shoulder. “I spent the whole day, Miriam, drinking with him and his companions, and they couldn’t tell me a thing. But then Simothaeus, in that dark dim area he calls his brain, remembered something very important.” He fished beneath his cloak, brought out his purse, and shook two coins into the palm of his hand.
“Go on, Simothaeus.”
“I was on guard duty.” The man spoke like an actor who had repeated his lines time and again but really didn’t understand the importance of them. “Yes, I was on guard duty.”
Hecaetus sighed noisily.
“Old Memnon came out of the courtyard. He was slightly tipsy. He was dressed in full armor, hand on the hilt of his sword.”
“When was this?” Hecaetus interrupted. “Tell the lady.”
“Why, the day before he fell from the tower. It was late in the afternoon. We had heard rumors that the king and the Macedonian army were marching on Thebes. Most of the men were celebrating. Memnon came over to me. He gripped me by the shoulder and asked my name. ‘Simothaeus,’ I replied, ‘my father tilled the land north of Pella.’”
“And?” Hecaetus asked testily.
“The captain was a hard bugger, but he was blunt. ‘Simothaeus,’ he said, ‘whatever Hades and the Thebans throw at us, we will stand fast, we will welcome our king into the citadel.’ Then he leaned closer. ‘You are going to see all of Thebes burn!’”
“Did he say anything else?” Miriam asked.
Simothaeus shook his head.
“Right,” Hecaetus said testily. “Here is a coin, Simothaeus. Go and get as drunk as the other pigs.”
The soldier lumbered out of the tent.
“Do you see the importance of Simothaeus’s evidence?” Hecaetus asked, raising his eye brows. “Here we have old Memnon supposedly drunk and brooding in his chamber, his mind has turned and he attempts to fly like Icarus from his tower.”
“But it doesn’t make sense,” Miriam interrupted. “In the last days of the siege, a Macedonian army was marching on Thebes though, even then,” she added, “didn’t the Thebans think Alexander had been killed and that the troops were being led by one of his generals?” She held her hand up. “But true, true Hecaetus, I follow your drift. Memnon expected to be relieved, so why commit suicide?”
“See, Miriam, I am willing to share what I discover.”
“But how did Memnon know that?” Miriam asked. “How did he know that a Macedonian army was marching to his relief? After all, the Thebans had him tightly controlled.”
Hecaetus grinned. “They may have spies in the citadel but I had spies in Thebes. Arrows can go both ways. So, Miriam”. . He played with the bracelet on his wrist, “. . tell me what you have discovered. One of my pretty boys saw you return to camp. You looked agitated.”
Miriam told Hecaetus everything. Her visit to the citadel, Memnon’s manuscripts, and the attack on her. Hecaetus, eyes half closed, heard her out.
“It’s strange,” he mused. “Rumors are sweeping the camp that Oedipus’s shade has been seen. I just wish the king would take that bloody Crown and march away from here. But he’s such a showman. He should have been an actor on the stage. In fact, he is, and all of Greece is the audience. He’s taken Thebes by storm, and now he wants some god to come down from Olympus and hand the Crown to him.”
“These spies of yours. .” Miriam began. She was wary of talking to Hecaetus about Alexander. She didn’t trust the man as far as she could spit but she didn’t want him to be her enemy.
“Oh a few merchants, tinkers, travelers.”
“Anyone in particular?”
“I am looking for a lovely boy, by the name of Meleager. He was a scribe in the service of the Theban council. He was close to their leader Pelliades.”
“But he has disappeared?”
“Yes, Miriam, the boy has gone, vanished. He may have fled, he may be in hiding, or he may be one of the corpses lying beneath that sea of ash once called Thebes.” Hecaetus paused, head half-cocked, listening to the sounds of the camp. “I tell you this, Miriam, I don’t think Memnon jumped. He was murdered, but how or why, well that’s a mystery.” He got to his feet. “I’m going to continue searching for Meleager. He could well be in one of the slave pens. He can protest about how much he helped Macedon, but in the eyes of Alexander’s soldiers, one Theban’s like another.” He leaned down and kissed Miriam on the top of her head, and pointing to the piece of parchment bearing the quotation from Sophocles, he said, “If I were you, young woman, I would walk very carefully.”
And then he was gone. Miriam picked up the piece of parchment and stared at it. Was it to frighten her?
“No,” she exclaimed. She was supposed to show this to Alexander! The king was as brave as a lion in battle but, like Philip, highly superstitious, wary of omens, portents, and warnings.
“Miriam.”
She turned, startled. Simeon was crouched in the mouth of the tent.
“It’s busier here,” she quipped, “than anyplace in the camp.”
Simeon just blinked and crawled in on all fours.
“I don’t feel well,” he murmured. “They are drinking fit to burst.”
“You are an Israelite,” Miriam retorted. “Never try to imitate Macedonians in their cups.”
Simeon got to his feet. Miriam took a jug of water and quickly prepared an herbal drink.
“It will settle your stomach. You should be asleep.”
Simeon shook his head. “The king wants me back at his tent.”
“Oh no.” Miriam groaned.
“It’s the Crown of Oedipus. He also wants you.” He stumbled on his words. “Well, you’d best come.”
Alexander’s banqueting tent was not as stately as when she had left. The ground littered was with scraps of food. Tables and chairs were overturned. Two of his commanders were lying flat out, snoring like pigs. The musicians and dancing girls had fled. Alexander had changed the seating arrangements. He had moved his couch farther down the tent-one arm around Niarchos, the other round Perdiccas. At the far end he had set up a makeshift pillar, a huge wooden stake planted in the ground, with iron clasps on it. These had been bent and held a crown Alexander must have taken from his treasury. He had laid out cloaks in front of the stake to imitate the pits in the shrine; now he was challenging everyone, all comers, to remove the crown without standing on the cloaks. Miriam groaned and closed her eyes. Alexander flush-faced and bright-eyed, was shouting abuse at Hephaestion, who stood before the cloaks staring blearily at the crown. Alexander staggered over, put his arm around Hephaestion’s shoulder and kissed him on the cheek.