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" Oh, yes, Al'skander, I'm sure I could. "

He laughed. " Neither can I. "

We were seen off at dawn by King Poros and most of his subjects. The ships were strung out along the river as far as eye could see. Alexander's galley led; he stood in the prow, his hair wreathed from the embarkation sacrifice. He had invoked Ammon his father god, Poseidon of the Waters, Herakles and Dionysos; also the rivers of our passage, for the Greeks do worship the holy waters, though they pollute them (I was growing careless myself). With each libation, he threw in the gold cup along with the wine. In the ships around, everyone raised the paean; the armies on both banks took it up; the horses neighed, the elephants trumpeted. Then to the time of the chanteymen, with the light still cool and grey on the broad waters, we went downstream.

Of all the gifts Alexander gave me, which were many and rich, one of the best was his taking me on the river. I say it still, who have seen the festivals of the Nile. First came the thirty war galleys, their banks of oars beating like wings; then the motley fleet for miles; on either bank the long columns of the army, the heavy-armed phalanxes, the cavalry, the wagons, the painted elephants; and alongside, running to keep us in sight, thousands of Indians come for the marvel. Horses on ships were themselves a ten-years' wonder. The Indians ran amazed, joining their chants to our chanteys, till the river ran between cliffs and gorges; the land troops were lost to sight; for songs we had echoes from the cliffs, and the chatter of monkeys among their hanging green.

To me it was enchantment beyond all tales of the bazaar. In the galley's prow, Alexander grasped the figurehead's tall crest, gazing ahead. He gave off a flame of eagerness that caught us all. I ceased to care that all speech in a galley is public, that he had just a little shelter in the stern to sleep in, that we would barely touch hands till the voyage ended. Thrusting on into the unknown world, I entered a part of his soul that his men had known. Everything rang with him. One lost count of time, living in his wonder. Days of joy.

We were still some way from hostile country, and often put in on shore for the chiefs to do their homage. He would be set on a flower-decked throne; there would be horse-shows, dancing, often good; and singing, which seemed to me like the whine of market beggars. Then we would be off with the stream, waving to the troops on shore.

All good things must be paid for, Alexander always said. The river narrowed, the current tugged. Distant and faint at first, came a muffled roar, from the meeting of the waters, where the rapids are.

We had been warned that where the Hydaspes joined the Akisines between cliffs, the doubled waters boiled in whirlpools. Of the noise, no one had warned us. When we neared it, the rowers broke their beat from mere stunned fear; yet with the current we still plunged on. Onesikritos the chief pilot yelled out not to stop, but to row harder; they'd be dead men if the ships slewed round. They bent their backs to it. The pilot in the prow called back to the steersman, conning every yard. Near him stood Alexander, his eyes on the white water, his lips parted in half a smile.

In the giant hands of the river, I remember only wild motion, confusion, and deadly fear which luckily struck me dumb. Once thrown in that race, no one could save himself, nor Alexander. I found myself praying to an unknown god that when we'd been drowned we would be reborn together. Then we were through, still plunging and pitching, with the lower-bank oars all broken. In the tales, there is no enchantment without ordeal.

All the ships came through safe, but for two that collided, and some of their men were saved. Alexander made camp, as soon as we found good beaches.

That song was over.

We were nearing the Mallian country, whose cities had not submitted, and were preparing war. They were ruled by their priests; men quite unlike Kalanos, who indeed kept telling us he was just a god-seeker and not a priest at all. These priests were obeyed even by the warriors. They had proclaimed Alexander and all of us unclean barbarians. They abhor uncleanness, which is wherever they say it is. In Persia we own our slaves, but they are not unclean to us; here, the men of mean occupation, who come of a conquered race, though no one owns them, are so unclean that no priest nor warrior will eat food their shadows have fallen on. But these men lived humbly. Not so Alexander. If his shadow could pollute them, what would his rule do?

These were the last people on his westward way, before he turned towards Persia; only these stood between him and the mastery of all India from the Beas to the Indus mouth. He had been robbed of his dream; now the matter of India was work to finish, once for all. The spell of the river was broken; the wondering boy at the prow, setting foot on land, changed to a daimon who burned the air before him.

He sent Hephaistion's troops on five days ahead, to meet any Mallians who fled before him. Ptolemy's men he left three days behind, to catch those who fled back. When the trap was set, he stalked his prey.

We marched through desert, a night and a day, because it was quick and no one went there. It was cruel going, but short. We had most of a night to sleep in. At dawn, Alexander led out the cavalry against the first Mallian town.

It was no great way from camp, so I rode to watch.

There were the mud-brick walls, the peasant fields teeming with men. They had set outposts on the roads, to stop Alexander. No one had watched the desert, whence no one came.

The war-yell rose; the cavalry spurred into the fields. The men there were armed with farmers' tools, if they were armed at all. Sabers flashed in the dawn; the Mallians were reaped like barley.

I had thought he would call on them to surrender, as he'd always done. But they had refused already. He was giving no second chances.

He came back at evening, when they had stormed the citadel, covered with dust and blood. While the troops rested and ate, he was giving orders for a night march, to surprise the next city before warning reached them. Himself he scarcely rested. The light that had shone on the river had turned to heat.

So it went on. Even when the Indians all knew where he was, they refused surrender. He took a good many slaves, those who gave themselves up at last; but many fought to the death, or burned themselves in their houses. The soldiers too had hardened. They, even more than he, wanted to be done for good with India; no revolts breaking out behind them, to make him march them back. They would not have taken prisoners, if he had not ordered it.

War is war. If this had been Darius, I would just have been glad for him, that he went bravely into battle. I had wondered at Alexander, not that he killed, but that so often he did not. Even now, he was letting the women and children get away. But I grieved that his dream had turned to bitterness.

This campaign the Macedonians had not bargained for; and it made them sullen. When I got him ready for his brief night's rest, he looked dried and drawn. " The sappers brought down the wall, " he said. " The men have always gone racing for a breach, before the dust could settle, to be in first. Today, I thought they'd never stop jostling about, waiting for each other. I went up and held the gap alone, till it put some shame in them. " Of course they had followed him then, and taken the town. But the lines on his brow had deepened.

" Al'skander, it is a weariness of the spirit. When we are back in Persia, your land and mine, it will all be well. "

" Yes, that will be good. But the frontiers-must be secured, and well they know it. I've never asked them for blind obedience. We're Macedonians. I've always told them what we were about. They must sweat this through and make the best of it. As you do. " He kissed me, just in kindness. He never needed desire, to make him grateful for love.

On our next day's march we passed the fallen city, screaming with kites, stinking with rotten flesh in the hot sun, with a filthy smell from the charred houses where Indians had burned themselves. In my heart I prayed the Wise God to free him from all this, and quickly.

One should take care with one's prayers. One should not presume before the gods.

The next city, when he drew near, turned out to have been forsaken. He sent word back that he would go straight on in pursuit, and the camp must follow.

When you follow an army, you have no need of guides. We came to a river, and a ford all churned with horse-hooves. On the far side, there had been a battle. The dead lay everywhere, like some strange fruit of the land, darkened with ripeness against the pale withered grass and scrub. A faint sweet stench was starting; it was hot. I was taking a drink from my flask, when I heard a moan close by. It was an Indian, a little younger than I, stretching his hand to the water. He was done for; his entrails spilled from his wound. Yet I dismounted, and gave him a drink. Those who rode near me asked if I was mad. Why indeed does one do such things? I suppose he only lived longer in his pain.

Soon we overtook some ox-wagons, sent by Alexander for his dead and wounded. The wounded had awnings over them, and the water-bearer with his donkey went beside. Alexander always looked well after his people.

The wagoners told us there had been fifty thousand Mallians in the field. Alexander had held them somehow, just with his cavalry, till the archers and the infantry came up; then the enemy fled to the walled town, which we would see beyond the palm grove. The King had it surrounded, and would rest his men for the night.

Before dusk we reached the round brown Mallian town, with its outer battlements, and the squat walls of its inner citadel. The tent-wagons trundled about with their slaves; the cooks unloaded their cauldrons and their sacks, set up their grids and earth-ovens, to give the men a good meal after the light midday ration. Alexander ate with his senior officers, Perdikkas, Peukestas and Leonnatos, planning the attack. " I shan't get the men up before dawn. The infantry's had a long hot march, and the cavalry's had a battle. A good sleep and a good breakfast, then up and at it. "

At bedtime I looked at his splendid arms, which the squires had burnished, and his new corselet. He'd had it made in India, for the heat, lighter than his old one, with the plates quilted into Indian stuff. As if he had not shown up enough before, it was scarlet, with a gold lion worked on the breast.

" Al'skander, " I said, " if you wore your old corselet tomorrow, I could get this cleaned. It's dirty from the battle. "

He turned round with raised brows, and grinned. " You Persian fox! I know what you're up to. Oh, no. The men need to be shown, it's not enough to tell them. " He might have said that any time, but now it had a touch of sourness. Then he laid his hand on my shoulder. " Don't try to keep me from it, even in love. I would rather end as I began. . . Come, cheer up; won't you want to know tomorrow where to look for me? "

He slept well, as always before a battle. He used to say he left it then with the god.

Next day soon after sunup they closed in round the town; the wagons moved up with the ladders and rams and catapults, and the sappers' tools. For some time we could see Alexander riding about, picked out, even when small with distance, by his scarlet and his silver helmet. Then he dismounted and was hidden in a mass of men before the wall. Soon they vanished into it; they must have forced a gate.

Troops poured in after them; ladders were carried through. The walls above, which had been packed with Indians, suddenly had emptied.

I rode forward to see better, on my own. There were few followers here but slaves; the crowd was with Hephaistion. No, there had been no surrender. The Mallians had run back to their inner citadel, and thronged its walls. Hidden by the town's low mud houses, the Macedonians must be below.

A ladder reared in sight against the wall, and settled. Then, mounting it, I saw a bright flash of scarlet. It went steadily up till it reached the battlements; hung there shoving and struggling; then stood upright on top, alone.

He was using the sword. One Indian fell; another he pushed off with his shield. Then three men swarmed up the ladder to fight beside him. The Indians fell back from them. The ladder was packed with clambering Macedonians. He had shown them once again. Suddenly, like stones in a rock-fall, they tumbled down out of sight. The ladder had broken under them.

I rode nearer, scarcely knowing what I did. The four seemed to stand forever, pelted with missiles from the wall and the fort within. Then Alexander was gone. He had leaped down—on the inner side.

After the shortest pause, I expect of unbelief, the others followed him.

I don't know how long it really was before the next Macedonians scaled the wall; about as long perhaps as it takes to peel and eat an apple, or die ten times. They went up on each other's shoulders, or with ladders, or by making footholds with spears. They poured over and were gone. I mustn't expect, I kept saying to myself, to get a sight of him yet.

A group of men mounted the wall from within. They were carrying something scarlet. Very slowly, they lowered it down a ladder out of my sight. I could not see it move.

I slashed at my horse's rump, and galloped towards the city.

The lower town was empty, even of the dead, quite peaceful; pumpkins and gourds ripened on the flat roofs. Ahead, from the citadel, came battle-yells and death-screams, which I scarcely heard.

At the door of a poor house, in a street just outside the wall, three of the squires were standing, looking in. I pushed between them.

The shield they'd carried him on lay with a pool of blood in it. He was on a peasant's dirty bed, with Peukestas and Leonnatos standing over him. More squires were huddled in a far corner. There were chickens running about.

His face was like chalk, but his eyes were open. In his left side, where all the bright scarlet cloth was darkened, stood a long thick arrow. It moved, and paused, and moved again with his shallow breath.

His lips were parted, drawing in, through the pain, just enough air for life. The breath hissed softly; not from his mouth, but from the wound. The arrow was in his lung.

I knelt by his head. He was too far gone to know. Peukestas and Leonnatos looked up briefly. Alexander's hand unclenched and felt at the arrow. He said, “Pull it out. ”

Leonnatos, almost as white as he, said, " Yes, Alexander. We must just shift the corselet. " I had handled it often. I knew how strong that quilting was. It was pierced, not torn. The arrow-flights would not pass through it.

" Don't be a fool, " Alexander whispered. " Cut the shaft. " He fumbled at his belt, got out his dagger, and sawed weakly. Then he coughed. Blood came from his mouth; the shaft jerked in his side. His face emptied of life. Faintly, still, the arrow moved in the wound. " Quick, " said Peukestas, " before he comes round again. " He took the dagger, and scraped at the hard cane. While he whittled it, and Leonnatos held it steady, I undid the corselet-buckles. Alexander came round while Peukestas was still hard at it. He never stirred, as the barb ground in his side.

The shaft severed, leaving a handspan of pointed end. I slid the corselet from under him; we eased it off, hindered by the knots in the cane. Peukestas cut away the bloody chiton. The purple wound in the white flesh opened and closed, the air softly whistling through. Sometimes it paused; he was trying not to cough.

" In God's name, " he whispered, " pull and have done. "

" I'll have to cut for the barb, " Peukestas said. " Get on, then, " said Alexander, and closed his eyes.

Peukestas took a deep breath. " Show me all your daggers. " Mine had the finest point; I had bought it in Marakanda. He thrust it in close by the shaft, and worked it outward. I took Alexander's head between my hands. I don't suppose he even knew of it, through all that pain.

Peukestas withdrew the blade, moved the arrow sideways, set his teeth and pulled. The thick iron barb came out; then a dark stream of blood.

Alexander said, " Thank you, Peukes—" His head sagged; he lay like marble. Nothing moved but the blood; and even that soon ceased.

The doorway of the hut had been thronged with people. I heard the cry that the King was dead, spreading away.

In Persia, to bewail the dead comes without thought, like tears. But I offered him, as was his due, the gift of silence. Indeed, there was nothing else within me.

They were shouting up to the soldiers fighting in the citadel, that the King was dead. The clamor inside, which had gone on all this time, redoubled. You would have thought all the world's wicked had been flung at once into the Fiery River. It reached me without meaning.

" Wait, " Leonnatos said. He picked up from the dirty floor a chicken feather, and laid it on Alexander's mouth. For a moment it was still; then the down by the quill moved family.

I helped them bind up the wound with whatever we could find. Tears streamed from my eyes. That time, I was not the only one.

At last, when they dared to move him, he was put upon a litter. The squires carried it, walking softly. As I followed, something flew over the citadel wall, and thudded in the dust beside me. It was a three-month Indian child, with its throat cut from ear to ear.

Up there, the soldiers still thought him dead. They were taking his blood-price, and washing out their shame. They left no living thing there.

For two days he lay in the open hand of death. He was drained of blood. The arrow had chipped a rib. Though almost too weak to lift his hand, he did that rather than speak. He spoke when the doctor would not leave him; he ordered him to see the wounded. I had understood his sign; he never had to open his mouth with me.

The squires helped with the nursing where they could; good lads, but nervous. I asked one, outside, " Why did he do it? Did the men hang back? "

" I'm not sure. Perhaps a little. They were clumsy bringing the ladders. He snatched one and set it himself, and went straight up. "

The wound, though terribly torn and bruised, never went putrid. But as it healed, his sinews stuck to his ribs. Every breath caught him like a knife, then and long after. At first, a cough was such agony he had to press both hands to his side to hold it still. To the very end of his life, if his breath labored hard he was in pain. He hid it, but I always knew.

On the third day he could speak a little; they gave him a taste of wine. So the generals came then, to scold him for his recklessness.

Of course they were right. It was a wonder he'd lived till the arrow hit him. He fought on with it in, till he fell lifeless. In his tent was the old shield from Troy, with which Peukestas had covered him; often I saw him look at it. He took the rebukes with patience; he had to, because of the men whom the ladder's breaking had trapped along with him. One had died, he owed his life to the others. But he had done as he'd meant, and forced the men to follow him. The lover was still true to the beloved; it was their eager rush that broke the ladder. He couldn't have foreseen that.

Leonnatos told him all about the massacre, to show him their devotion. He said, " The women and all the children? " and took a sharp breath and coughed up blood. Leonnatos was brave, but never quick in the head.

On the fourth day, when I was propping his pillows high to help him breathe, Perdikkas came in. He had been fighting on the far side of the town when Alexander was wounded. Having the highest rank, he was now in command; a tall man, dark-browed, both alert and steady. Alexander trusted him.

" Alexander, you're not fit to dictate a letter yet, so I've written one for you, with permission. It's for Hephaistion to give out to the army. Do you think you can just sign it? "

" Of course I can, " said Alexander. " But I won't. Why disturb them? They'll start to say I'm dead. We've had enough of that. "

" It's unfortunate; but that’s what they’re saying now. It seems someone carried the rumor. They believe we're keeping it dark. "

Alexander pushed with his good arm (the left one dragged at his wound) and nearly sat up. I saw a stain of red on his clean bandage. " Does Hephaistion himself think this? "

" It may well be. I've sent a dispatch; but something from you would clinch it. "

" Read me the letter. " He heard it through, then said, " Add to that, before I sign, that I'll be coming in three days' time. "

Perdikkas brought down his brows. " Better not. When you don't, it will make things worse. "

Alexander's hand gripped the blanket. The red on the bandage spread. " Write down what I told you. If I say I'll go, in go. "

He went, seven days from when he took his wound.

Once more I was with him on the river. He had a little tent in the stern. Though it was not far to the water, the litter's jogging had worn him out. He lay like the dead. I remembered him standing in the prow, with the wreath on his hair.

It took two nights and three days. For all I could do, a galley is short of comforts; and he felt the pull of the oars. He never complained. I sat by him, fanning off the water-flies, changing the dressings on his great half-scabbed wound, and thinking, It's for Hephaistion you are doing this.

Now, I can see he would have gone for the men alone. He had never named any deputy, in case he should be past choosing one, nor any successor if he fell. It was not that he would not think of death; he lived with it; but that he would not give one man such a place of power, or expose him to so much envy. He knew well enough how it would be at the camp, while they thought him dead. Three great generals were based there, Krateros, Ptolemy and Hephaistion, each with equal claim to the high command; the troops well knowing it; knowing too that if he were dead, the Indians would rise up behind them and before. Had I asked him why he was going, he would have answered, " It is necessary. " But I remembered his voice saying, " Does Hephaistion think that? " and I nursed my grief.

It was late afternoon when the camp was sighted. He had dozed off. As he had ordered beforehand, the awning was furled up, to let him be seen. He was already among the army; the whole riverbank was thick with men awaiting the ship. When they saw him lie unmoving, a great wail broke out, spreading all along to the camp. It could not have been more if a Great King had died at Susa. But it was not custom that drew it from the Macedonians. Sheer grief wrung it out.

He woke. I saw him open his eyes. He knew what it meant; they had felt what it was to be without him. I don't blame him, if he let them feel it a little longer. The galley was almost at the quay, before he lifted his arm and waved.

They roared and cheered and yelled. The noise was deafening. As for me, I was watching the three generals waiting at the landing-quay. I saw whose eyes he met first.

A shaded litter was waiting. They put down his stretcher by it. He said something I could not hear, being still on board. It seemed he disliked the litter. Something always goes wrong, I thought, when I have to leave him to other people; what is it now?

When I came down the gangplank, a horse was being led up. " That's better, " he said. " They can see now whether I'm dead. "

Someone gave him a leg-up. He sat as straight as if on parade. The soldiers yelled. The generals walked beside him; I hoped they were watching in case he fell. He'd not even been on his feet till the day before, and then for long enough to make water.

Then the men came up.

They came in a great shouting wave, steaming with rank sweat in the Indian sun. The generals were shoved like nobodies. It was lucky they'd found him a quiet horse. The soldiers grasped at his feet, kissed the hem of his chiton, blessed him, or just got near and gazed.

At last some of the squires fought through to him, knowing, as no one did on shore, the state he was really in. They led his horse towards the tent prepared for him.

I squeezed through the crush like a cat under a gate. They were so carried away, they never even noticed it was a Persian pushing them. I'd heard enough by now from those who'd seen chest wounds in the field, of how a man would live till he tried to rise, then spew up a pool of blood and die in moments. About twenty paces from the tent, when I'd almost caught up, he drew rein. He knows he's going to fall, I thought, and I struggled nearer.

" The rest I'll walk, " he said. " Just to let them know I'm alive. "

He did it. They doubled the time for him, grasping his hands, wishing him health and joy. They tore flowers from the bushes, those waxen heavy-scented flowers of India, and flung them; some snatched wreaths from the shrines of Indians gods. He kept his feet, smiling. He never turned away love.

He went in. Kritodemos the doctor, who'd come by ship with him, hurried after. Coming out and seeing me outside—he knew me well by now—he said, " He's bleeding, but not much. What kind of stuff is he made of? "

" I'll see to him, as soon as the generals go. " I'd brought along a bag with the things I needed. Ptolemy and Krateros came out fairly soon. So now, I thought, the real wait begins.

A crowd was milling before the tent. They seemed to think he would be giving audiences. The bodyguard turned them off. I waited.

The palm trees were black against the sunset, when Hephaistion came out. " Is Bagoas there? " he asked the guard. I came forward. " The King's getting tired, he'd like to be settled down. "

Getting tired! I thought. He should have been settled an hour ago.

It was hot inside. He'd been propped up, after a fashion. I did it again properly. A wine-cup was standing by him. " Oh, Al'skander! " I said. " You know the doctor said not, if you were bleeding. "

" That's stopped, it was nothing. " It was rest he'd needed to pick him up, not wine.

I'd already sent for water, to sponge him down. " Whatever have you been doing with this bandage? " I asked. " The dressing's slipped half off. "

" It's nothing, " he said. " Hephaistion wanted to see it. "

I just said, " Lie over. It's stuck. " I soaked it off, bathed him, put on the salve, bandaged him, sent for his supper. He could barely eat. He was tired almost beyond rest. When I'd settled him, I sat quiet in a corner; he'd grown used to having me there when he went to sleep.

A little later, as he was dropping off, he gave a great sigh. I came up softly. His lips moved. I thought, He wants me to fetch Hephaistion back to sit with him. But what he said was, " So much to do. "

lowly he mended. The Mallians all sent envoys to surrender. He asked a thousand hostages, but, when they came, took that as proof of good faith and set them free.

Processions of honor came from his Indian lands, laden with gifts; gold bowls full of pearls, chests of rare wood filled with spices, embroidered awnings, gold necklaces thick with rubies, more elephants. Grandest of all were the tame tigers, hand-reared from cubs, pacing on silver chains. Alexander thought them more kingly even than lions, and said he'd have liked to hand-rear one himself, if he'd had time to care for it properly.

For each embassy he'd get out of bed, and be found enthroned as if he had nothing wrong with him. They always made long speeches, which had to be interpreted; he would reply, and be interpreted too. Then he would admire the gifts. I was afraid the tigers would smell his blood.

The wound dried up, though it still looked dreadful. One morning he said to me, pleased as a child who's pulled a loose milk-tooth, " Look what I got out, " and showed a great splinter of rib. After that the pain was less sharp; but skin was still stuck to sinews, sinews to bone; and, so the doctor said, the lung inside to that. It hurt him to breathe deep, or use his arm; his strength was slow returning. This did not stop him from doing all the business which had heaped up while he was on campaign.

Soon after we arrived, Roxane came to his tent in her curtained litter, to greet her lord and ask how he did. She'd learned a little more Greek, as he told me after; it seemed she'd been gentle and meek and full of concern. I'd heard already that when the rumor came of his death, her screams had deafened the camp. Maybe it was true grief; on the other hand, she was still childless, and would have been no one at all, once he was gone.

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