Parmenio winked and said, “At least we can parade the army through their city.”
“None of that,” said Philip, quite seriously. “They’re beaten and they know it. If we rub their noses in it they’ll resent it and start a new war as soon as they’re able to.”
“They’ll do that anyway,” mumbled Parmenio.
Philip shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. Demosthenes and his war party are discredited now. Their democracy will turn on them and toss them out of power, maybe exile them from the city.”
“I’d rather see him hanging from his golden throat,” Antipatros said.
“All I want from Athens is that they leave us in charge of the seaports and stop making war against us.”
“And what about the Persians?” Alexandros asked, his voice as thin and hard as a knife blade.
“The Great King will make his settlement with us. If we offer no threat to him, he’ll offer no threat to us.”
“For how long?”
Philip fixed his son with his one good eye. “For as long as we control all of Greece. Which will be for as long as I sit on the throne of Macedonia.”
I wondered. Philip had forged a powerful instrument in his army, and armies need enemies to fight. Otherwise they go to rot. Or worse, their officers begin to scheme against the king. Still, I could not see Parmenio or Antipatros or One-Eyed Antigonos plotting to overthrow Philip.
Alexandros, however, was a different matter. And there was his mother to consider.
This time Alexandros entered Athens openly. No disguises, no deception. He rode bareheaded in a gold-leafed chariot pulled by a brace of magnificent white stallions, followed by his Companions, all mounted on their war chargers, and then a squadron of the heavy cavalry that had crushed the Thebans.
The whole city turned out to see the boy-hero of Chaeroneia. If they resented the Macedonian conquest of their army they did not show it. The narrow winding streets of Athens were thronged with citizens shouting and waving to Alexandros, even throwing flowers. Many of these men must have been marching against us in the battle, I thought. Many of the women must be widows because of Chaeroneia. How can they cheer for their conqueror?
Perhaps because they were still alive, I reasoned, and not enslaved. Philip did not pursue the fleeing Athenian hoplites as ruthlessly as he might have. Instead of harrying them to their deaths he turned his phalanxes against the Thebans, coming to the aid of us in the cavalry.
Apparently the news of Philip’s lenient terms had already been spread through the city. They thought he admired Athens, revered it so highly that he felt himself too humble to enter the city himself. Actually Philip was busy settling with Thebes and the other cities that had arrayed themselves against him. He was working at a king’s tasks; he had no time for glory and adulation.
But Alexandros took the city’s homage as his personal due.
The city’s leaders were obsequious, hailing Alexandros before the crowd at the Agora as if he had won the victory for their side. In private they seemed unable to believe their good fortune.
“Philip will not send troops to occupy the city?”
“No,” said Alexandros.
“He does not demand reparations or ransom for the prisoners he took?”
“No.”
“All he wants is for us to confirm his control of the seaports along the Hellespont and Bosporus?”
“That, and a guarantee that you will no longer make war against us.” Sullenly.
The Athenian leaders could hardly suppress their delight.
“After all, he controls the ports already.”
“It was Demosthenes and his faction that wanted to war against Philip. I never believed in it.”
“Nor I.”
“Nor I!”
“Where is Demosthenes?” Alexandros asked. “I have something of his to return to him.”
CHAPTER 17
I accompanied Alexandros to Demosthenes’ house, carrying his heavy blue shield with me, a combination bodyguard and porter. The other Companions had wanted to come and gloat, but Alexandros—in a very sober, serious mood—told them to stay behind.
Ptolemaios, who had brought his mistress Thais with him to see her native Athens once again, laughingly said to the others, “Let the Little King go see the golden-throated coward. We have better things to do!” And he shaped the curves of a woman in the air with his hands.