“But why this question?” I asked. “Has something happened to the king?”
“He’s going to marry Attalos’ niece, Kleopatra, the one he calls Eurydice.”
“Marry?”
“The king may have more than one wife,” Alexandros explained.
“He already has had several political marriages,” said Olympias. “His marriage to me was to cement his alliance with the Molossians, originally.”
“He fell in love with you,” I said.
“He lusted after me, just as he’s lusted after every wench with hair between her legs. And quite a few boys, too.”
“I don’t see it as a problem, Mother—as far as I’m concerned. I know it’s a slap in your face, of course.”
“Do you think I care about that?”
I thought she cared very much. But I kept my mouth shut.
“I think he hurts you,” said Alexandros.
“And he humiliates you,” she said, clutching at his shoulder. “He expects me to be so enraged at him that I will leave and return to my father in Epeiros. If I refuse to do that, he will divorce me. This little baggage he’s marrying wants to be his only legitimate wife; that’s Attalos’ plan.”
Understanding seemed to dawn on Alexandros’ face. “Which means that if he has a son by her—”
“You will have a rival for the throne. Attalos will push for his niece’s son because that will bring the throne to his house, his family.”
“But not for many years,” I pointed out.
She shot me a venomous glance. “He could have a new son a year from now. And my son will be pushed aside. He’ll claim that he never fathered you, Alexandros. I know he will!”
“You told me that he didn’t,” Alexandros said, his voice hollow.
“I told you that you were fathered by Zeus,” she said imperiously. “But Philip has always claimed you as his own.”
“Until now.”
“The clever dog will use your own godly heritage against you. He will call me an adulteress and you a bastard. Wait and see.”
Again I broke in, “But all this is supposition. Philip hasn’t even announced his intention to marry again.”
“He will.”
“Even if he does, even if he marries, it could be years before he produces a son. Alexandros will be a fully grown man, perfectly able to be voted king when Philip dies.”
“Or he may not produce a son at all,” Alexandros said.
“Yes,” said Olympias. “He may not live long enough to sire a new heir.”
CHAPTER 18
Olympias dismissed her son, but kept me with her. Like the slave that I was I followed her to her bed chamber where we made love until dawn amid her slithering, hissing snakes.
She did not need the special drugs that her vipers had injected into me other times. I was a cooperative slave that night, a willing lover. My body was unmarked by their fangs, although Olympias had sunk her own fingernails into my flesh more than once.
“You plan to assassinate Philip,” I said to her as we lay together.
“Is that a question?” she asked lazily.
“No. An observation.”
“And you will warn him of it, won’t you?”
“I am loyal to Philip,” I said.
“Not to me?”
“You can force me to do whatever you wish. That does not engender loyalty.”
She laughed in the predawn darkness. “Come now, Orion, can you truthfully say that you don’t enjoy what we do together?”
“My body certainly enjoys it.”
“But your mind…?”
I hesitated, not wanting to stir her anger. But I heard my voice tell her, “I know what a trained bear must feel when he’s made to dance.”
She laughed again, genuinely amused. “A trained bear! Yes! That’s what I want you to be: my trained bear.”
I cursed myself for giving her a new source of amusement.
“Time for another performance, my great big bear,” she said. “Must I find a whip to encourage you?”
I did not need a whip.
By the time the first pink flush of dawn was lighting the sky beyond her window, she returned to our earlier conversation.
“You will tell Philip that I plan to assassinate him, won’t you?”
“If you don’t prevent me, yes, I will.”