“You are supposed to be a bloody engineer!” he bawled in his ear. “How do you get that crown off that bloody pillar without standing on the cloaks? Remember. .” Alexander lifted one finger up as he swayed backward and forward. He blinked.
“What must I remember?”
“He must take the crown off,” Niarchos yelled, “without touching the cloaks. One’s a fire, one’s a snake pit, and in between them is a row of spikes. Nor must he use anything brought into the shrine.”
Hephaestion blinked owlishly at his king and stared at the wooden stake.
“I could go outside,” he said, “go around the tent, lift the flap, and take it.”
The rest of the company roared with laughter. Alexander caught Miriam’s eyes.
“Come on Israelites!” he gestured. He went and took Niarchos aside. “Sit down Miriam, you are the only sober man among us!”
His quip raised a few sniggers. Miriam blushed slightly. She had heard the secret jokes about her being more man than woman. Alexander must have seen the hurt in her eyes as he squatted down beside her.
“I’m sorry,” he slurred, “but it all started when I told them about our visit this morning. And do you know, not one of these drunken buggers can give me any advice.”
Miriam stared at the red cloaks that stood for the burning charcoal, the spear in between that stood for the spikes, and the long cloak of blue that represented the snake pit. She had been so frightened about what had happened in the citadel that she hadn’t given any thought to this problem. Niarchos had now sprung to his feet. He yelled at one of the bodyguards to bring him a long lance or pike, but when he did so, Niarchos realized that it was far too short to reach. Alexander sat, gnawing his fingernails.
“There must be a way,” he muttered, “to take that crown.”
“Do it by force?” Perdiccas clinked his cup against that of the king. “Burn the temple and take it by force.”
“And all of Greece will see that.”
The speaker at the far end of the semicircle stood up. Miriam recognized Timeon, the Athenian delegate.
“My lord Alexander, if you take it by force, all of Greece will know of it.”
“Thank you, Timeon.” Alexander forced a weak smile. “And before you leave, I’ll have words with you. .” he scowled, “about the traitor Demosthenes.”
“He is no longer in Athens,” Timeon declared. “He has fled; we do not know where. All of Greece now has its eyes on Thebes.”
Miriam gripped Alexander’s wrist. She could feel him beginning to tremble with anger. One of those terrible rages that swept him, particularly when he was deep in his cups. What had begun as a drunken joke was now turning ugly. She looked along the line of Alexander’s commanders for a sober face, but they were all drunk. Some were half asleep, others were now glaring at the Athenian envoy. Niarchos, stung by Timeon’s hidden taunts, walked along the cloaks. He forced back the metal clasps on either side of the crown, took it off, and tipsily put it on his head.
“That’s the way we take Crowns in Macedon!” he yelled at the Athenian. “We just move in and take them!”
“Of course,” Timeon purred, “whether it’s Macedon or anywhere else.”
His remark stilled the clamor and noise in the tent. Alexander sprang to his feet. He ran and picked up the spear that separated the different-colored cloaks. Miriam thought his anger was directed at Timeon but it was Niarchos he confronted.
“You stupid Cretan bastard!”
Niarchos stared fearfully back. Alexander brought the spear up. Miriam jumped to her feet, ran forward, and caught his arm.
“My lord king,” she cried, “you know this is only a charade. Niarchos acts the fool. Don’t reveal our secret.”
Alexander’s arm remained tense.
“Put it down,” she whispered. “Alexander, put it down!” She felt his arm relax.
“Miriam is right.” Alexander stuck the spear into the earth.
“What do you mean?” Timeon, eager to create more trouble, stepped forward.
“We know how to remove the Crown of Oedipus, but it will take time.” Miriam blurted the words out before she could stop. “Yes, I swear by the holy name of the God of Israel, that it will not be by force but by human cunning and divine favor. Alexander of Macedon shall wear the Iron Crown of Thebes!”
A murmur of approval broke out from the king’s companions. Timeon look puzzled. Niarchos came forward. Alexander grasped him by the shoulder and kissed him on each cheek.
“Do that again,” he whispered, “and I’ll have your bloody head.” And with one arm around Niarchos and the other around Miriam, Alexander staggered back to his cushions. He wiped his flushed, sweat-soaked face with a wet rag and clapped his hands.
“The night is still young.”
Servants came in bringing more bowls of food and fresh jugs of wine. Alexander deliberately turned his back on Miriam and began to tease Hephaestion. Only when he was sure his guests were diverted did he turn back.
“You know what you’ve done, Miriam?”
“I know what you would have done,” she hissed. “You showed all Greece that a Macedonian could not solve a problem. And, in the presence of the envoys, you almost killed one of your generals. Alexander, when you drink, keep your hands away from your weapons.”
“I thought Niarchos was going to pee himself,” Alexander grinned.
“So would anyone,” Miriam countered.
“Do you know how to remove the Crown?” Alexander taunted.
“No!” Miriam hissed. “But if my lord. .”
“My lord king.”
Miriam looked around. A captain of the guard had entered the tent-one hand on the hilt of his sword, the other covered in blood.
“My lord king you’d best come now.”
“What is it?” Alexander slurred.
“Three guards have been killed.”
All drunkenness seemed to disappear. The king sprang to his feet, snapping his fingers for the others to join him. A cart stood outside the royal tent. Three corpses, foot soldiers, sprawled there splattered with blood. Alexander took a pitch torch from one of the escorts and moved closer. The side of each man’s head looked as if it had been smashed in by some war ax or club.
“The men were out on picket duty,” the captain explained. “To the south on country roads. I went to check that all was well but couldn’t find them. I thought they had gone drinking or even slipped back into the camp; I found one of the shields, then the corpses, as well as this!”
Alexander took the small scroll and handed it to Miriam.
“Doomed,” she read out aloud. “Oh, lost and damned! This is my last and only word to you. For ever!”
“I received the same.” She handed it back. “Earlier this evening; it’s a quotation. .”
“I know,” Alexander broke in, “from Sophocles.” Alexander strode away from his companions, now gathering round the cart; he gestured at Miriam and the captain to follow.
“There’s something else isn’t there, man?”
The captain nodded, his face pale and sweaty under the great Corinthian helmet.
“When I crouched down to examine one of the corpses, I heard a whistling. I looked up. In the moonlight I glimpsed a figure on top of small hill. In one hand he carried a club.”
“And when he walked,” Miriam intervened, “he had a limp?”
The captain nodded. “I hurried toward him, but by the time I reached the top, he’d disappeared into the night. The men are now saying that we have been visited and punished by the shade of Oedipus.”
Alexander sobered up. It was as if he hadn’t touched a drop of wine; there was a thin, mean twist to his lips, his eyes were hard and unblinking.
“I conquered Thebes,” he declared. “And now they are going to argue that Oedipus has conquered me. Perdiccas,” he shouted, “I want officers to check all the pickets and sentries. Send out cavalry patrols at first light! Scour the countryside for any Thebans. Miriam come with me.”
They walked out of earshot of the rest.
“I’m begging you, Miriam.” Alexander held her wrists tightly.
“What my lord?”