Ghost on the Throne - James S. Romm [15]
But Craterus was not happy with his new bride. He was older than other members of the king’s inner circle, in his late forties rather than his thirties, and his traditionalism put him at odds with Alexander’s Euro-Asian fusion. Though Craterus revered his king and was fiercely loyal, he felt entitled to tell him, on several occasions, that he had gone too far in embracing Persian ways. Alexander resented such interventions, especially since they made Craterus a hero to the rank-and-file soldiers, former peasants and farmers who, like Craterus, still regarded the Persians as vanquished enemies, not partners in rule. But Alexander needed Craterus’ talents too much to punish his dissent. By giving him highborn Amastris as bride, Alexander was perhaps making a last effort to enlist Craterus in a project he deeply mistrusted.
The mass wedding was held in the royal palace at Susa. A row of nearly a hundred richly wrought couches was laid out in a great hall, and the Companions reclined, holding cups of wine. A toast was drunk by all, and then, in a carefully choreographed movement, the Asian brides entered and each went to sit beside her groom. Alexander took his two brides by the hand and kissed them on the lips, the Persian custom for contracting a marriage; as though on cue, the rest of the Companions did likewise. A great feast was held, and each groom escorted his bride to a waiting bedchamber in the palace complex. How Alexander stage-managed his own double-wedding night has not been revealed by our sources.
Five days of festivities and pageantry followed, during which Alexander presented golden wreaths to those who had served with distinction in India. Leonnatus and Peucestas, the men who had saved him from enemy archers in the rebel town, received these glittering tokens of honor. Nearchus, the Greek admiral who had gotten the fleet safely through a terrible voyage, also got one, in just recognition of his sufferings. Ptolemy too was garlanded with gold, an acknowledgment that the king’s old friend had in India proved himself as a combat officer. The stalwart Craterus, however, perhaps having objected too often to Alexander’s fusion program, received no wreath at this ceremony. Neither did Eumenes, whose duties in India had still been largely those of a scribe, not a soldier.
By the end of the first week of June, in the bivouacs outside Babylon, the Macedonian army was growing uneasy. Alexander had not been seen for many days after first appearing on a litter at morning sacrifices. It was unusual for the king to be absent from view for so long, especially when he was about to lead his men into action. Nevertheless, they continued to prepare their weapons and gear for the Arabian campaign.
Most of these troops fought with the long infantry lance called the sarissa, as well as with short swords and shields. At the outset of his reign, Philip, Alexander’s father, had introduced the sarissa, a strong wooden shaft perhaps eighteen feet long tipped with a two-pound metal blade, and had recruited strong young men to wield it, forging a new kind of phalanx that changed the face of battle overnight. Now Philip’s recruits were past fifty but still fighting in the front lines, thrusting their sarissas with both hands as they advanced toward an enemy, their shields slung around their necks. The discipline gained through decades of fighting, in every terrain and tactical situation, had made these veterans unassailable to any enemy, except, as they would soon learn, one another.
Macedonian infantrymen, as seen in a tomb painting roughly contemporary with