Dedication – this story is my October contribution to the memory of Hephaistion. Readers' comments are valued and highly appreciated. I hope you enjoy the reading.
A/N – though the text below is a story in its own right, I treat it as a second part of my previous year October contribution to Hephaistion's memory "The right way to serve revenge as a hot dish". Though it's not necessary to read that story but I want to mention that both Hephaistion and Mazaeus in this story are the same characters as they were in my last year contribution.
Another A/N – Middle Sea mentioned a few times below is what we know in present as Mediterranean and actually its direct translation.
Babylon, end of October 330 BC
Artiboles opened the door and Hephaistion stepped into a small courtyard empty but for the generous vegetation hanging in abundance from the flat roofs of the inside buildings. Mazaeus' servant, who brought him here, politely bowed to both men and quickly disappeared into one of the inside alleys.
"You should have brought some guards with you," Mazaeus' son noted with a mild rebuke, "despite the jubilant reception that your king received upon entering Babylon, there are a lot of people who not very happy with the fact and they would like nothing better than to dispose of one of his best generals.
"I had my guards, don't worry, Artiboles, I just dismissed them a moment ago, no need for them to wait for me here, I plan to enjoy your father's hospitality for a few hours at least."
"Ah," noted the young Babylonian, "in this case, let me take you to the Garden. These premises are not as luxurious as father's new quarters in the royal palace but I already can feel his reluctance to abandon this small house."
"Small house?" Hephaistion smiled and followed Artiboles, "it looks nothing like that from outside."
"Maybe, but it can't compare with the whole wing of the palace that your king so generously granted to my father."
"The new governor of Babylon should have accommodations that befit his status," explained Hephaistion, "and judging by the magnificent reception hold by him for Alexander and his generals just a few days ago, your father knows how to entertain on a grand scale."
"Indeed he does," solemnly confirmed Artiboles, "here is the Garden, and my farther should join you shortly."
Hephaistion swept his glance around. He already became somewhat familiar with Persian's obsession for splendid gardens and he still reeled from the unimaginable magnificence of the Hanging Gardens in Babylon. This one was far smaller and less opulent and yet right away it captured Hephaistion with some unexplainable charm and magical pull. Upon entering he faced a wall that looked like a natural slope in some gorge with water falling freely to the broken stones below and then flowing away in small babbly brooks around the garden. To the right an elegant and mysterious garden arch, enlaced with crawling leaves, was invitingly calling to unravel its secrets, to the far left a gazebo under the shadows of unknown trees was beckoning to come inside. Here and there, crystal clear brooks reappeared from the grass boasting miniature riffles and playful fish.
But the epicenter of it all was an unfamiliar small tree with glossy dark green leaves that exuded pleasant sweet aroma and boasted bright orange balls for a fruit. As if it was not enough, the tree didn't grow from the ground but hang in earthenware jug above the garden's floor suspended by metal chains that were stretched to their anchors on the roofs of surrounding buildings.
"It's a real marvel, isn't it?" half asked half stated Mazaeus appearing from one of the hidden doors somewhere on the outskirts of the garden.
"A marvel indeed," confirmed Hephaistion. "I've never seen such a tree in my whole life let alone how it grows here."
"And yet you've heard about it from probably a very early age."
"I did?"
"I am sure. Your Greek stories call this fruit a golden apple of Hesperides."
"Hmmmm," Hephaistion came closer to take a better look. "It does look somewhat like an apple though its skin very different. Is it an edible fruit?"
"Yes," confirmed Mazaeus, "I have but one tree and you will be the first person outside of my family who ever tasted its fruit. Of course, as I suspect you may wish, I can gift you one more for Alexander and you can share it with your king in the privacy of your quarters so that it won't cause another Trojan War. As far as I know, it's the only such tree in Babylon and I am not in a sharing mood especially since this tree is a gift from my very dear friend."
"So, it's not native to this area?" asked Hephaistion, still circling the tree carefully and examining the rarity from a close view.
"No, it comes from India but I've heard it's not native to their land either. Maybe when Alexander reaches the ends of the earth, he'll find there a lot of these trees."
"I always thought that the gardens of Hesperides were to the west of Greece, not to the east."
"Did you forget so soon what you've learned from your teacher Aristotle? The earth is a spherical body, the fact known to the Babylonian magi for a long time though you Greeks until recently naïvely assumed it was flat. Ah-ha," Mazaeus shook his head, "I know you were going to correct me about being Macedonian, my apologies for that, but I don't know any Macedonian scientists so I have to use my knowledge of the Greeks. In any case, what I wanted to say, since the earth is a sphere, east becomes west and west becomes east at some point; make sure Alexander remembers that when he devises his plans to reach the ends of the earth, though I am not sure what he means by that."
Hephaistion briefly nodded and continued to examine the unusual tree. At last he said, "Before reaching the ends of the earth, we have to find and deal with Darius, then to crash any rebellion that his supporters might show, and then conquer India, of which we know very little. This friend of yours, is he some high status Indian dignitary, a king in this own right, perhaps? How long did you know him?"
"My friend never been to India, he lived all his life on the shores of the Middle Sea; we know each other for almost thirty years though we started our acquaintance as bitter enemies."
Hephaistion looked at Mazaeus with surprise and then smiled, "Started as bitter enemies, eh? And now you call him your dear friend…. You have strange habits in regards to dealing with people. You should tell me more about this friend of yours and you can start with how he managed to get you this magnificent present."
"It's a long story but if you are in no hurry and contend with sharing a meal with me in this beautiful garden, I may do just that."
"I was brought up on Homer, I love long stories," said Hephaistion sensing that it was Mazaeus' intention all along.
"First I'll deal with a minor issue of how I got this tree. My friend, whom most of my life I knew as Ben-Hiram, which means something like son of the exalted brother, his own proper name is too long and difficult to pronounce even for me, let alone for your Greek, I beg your pardon, Macedonian tongue, most of his life was just a gardener. Which, I can tell you, a rather lonely occupation. They spent all their lives talking to plants and regard the rest of us, normal mortals, as unfortunate nuisance. And of course, they talk about themselves. Mind you, each one of them tries to overdo the others and so they tend to keep their achievements and knowledge secret, but sometimes they share information with each other, but mostly when they suspect that the other part has or knows something that they need."
"So, not much that different from the rest of us, mortals?" joked Hephaistion eyeing the delicious food that Mazaeus' servants were laying around on the small tables.
"No, not so much different," Babylonian chuckled in the agreement. "And almost as long as I know him, this golden apple tree was Ben-Hiram's biggest obsession. And when at last he found the means of getting one, instead of asking for this beautiful tree to be brought to him, he arranged for it to be brought here, to Babylon, as a present for me. I found it in my garden when I came back to Babylon after the disaster of Gaugamela. When I first met Ben-Hiram, I could never imagine that our lives will entwine so closely but it's for the best that we don't know what the future holds for us in store, otherwise…. for example the King of Kings Artaxerxes would never make me the satrap of Cilicia when I was just twenty four years old."
"I've heard that the former kings of Persia held you in a very high respect, otherwise I am sure Darius would never think of betrothing you to his eldest daughter. Are you saying that Artaxerxes came to regret making you a satrap of Cilicia?"
"Came to regret? Yes and no. He was happy with my service and even made me the satrap of nearby provinces in a few years. But…. making me the satrap of Cilicia in the first place was his way of thanking my grandfather who served Artaxerxes when he was himself just a satrap of one his father's provinces and later supported him in his struggle for power. When Artaxerxes became a king, he remembered the people who served him well and showed them his favor if, of course, they continued to support him unreservedly. One of the most sought out favors was the right to host the royal party, of any kind, on the family land. We lost our grasp on Babylon many generations ago but my family still owned one of the best hunting grounds around. And king Artaxerxes, let me tell you, enjoyed hunting tremendously, so he was a frequent guest at my grandfather winter estate.
You see, king Artaxerxes was always plugged with bad administrators so when he noticed how well my grandfather's lands and other possessions were looked after, he inquired about it and my father had no choice but tell the king about the eunuch who was administrator of his estate. Not long after that, king Artaxerxes ordered my grandfather to gift him with such a capable eunuch and my grandfather had to acquiesce to this demand. Am I boring you with my family's story?" Mazaeus suddenly interrupted his narrative.
"Not at all," Hephaistion said in honest, "I welcome any chance to learn more of the Persian history and you are a wonderful story teller. So, this eunuch, let me guess, he didn't serve Artaxerxes as well as he served your grandfather and the king of kings came to regret his choice?"
"On the contrary, Artaxerxes was so pleased with my grandfather's eunuch, that he made him a vizier of the empire and appointed me a satrap of Cilicia as the thanks to my grandfather."
"I know the name, Bagoas, isn't it? So, he started his career as an administrator of your grandfather estate? And he was the one who killed Artaxerxes and all his remaining family and thus cleared the way for Darius to ascent the throne?"
"Yes, it was indeed Bagoas. I see that you know at least some of the Persian history. And though king Artaxerxes never regretted his choice for the vizier while he was still alive, I am sure that his immortal soul was definitely of the different opinion being separated from the body by the hand of the said Bagoas. But this is a different story, maybe for another evening.
As a newly appointed satrap, I arrived in the main city of the province, Tarsus, closely following the assassination of its former governor, Datames. I am sure you remember Tarsus, the city where you almost lost Alexander to fever. It was a folly of follies for your king to plunge into Cydnus icy waters."
"And I am sure at that point of time you prayed to your gods for Alexander to succumb to this fever," noted Hephaistion, though without much malice in his voice.
"No, we didn't know of the accident when it happened. Mind you, at that time, I was recalled by Darius to Babylonia and the king himself was hunting for Alexander near Issus. He attributed Alexander's delay to his fear to face his by far numerous armies. But that was also in the future and I digressed again.
As you can imagine, becoming a satrap was my first taste at independent rule. I did what I thought was best, trying to prove, both to outside world and to myself, that I was worthy of my appointment. When we met before, at Thapsacus, I told you about the Babylonian origins of my family. The hatred for Persians, which I inherited from my grandfather and my uncles (my father was killed when I was a small child and I hardly remember him) lied well hidden inside me. From the early age I learned to pretend and keep my mouth shut. When I arrived in Cilicia, I was surrounded by people who hated Persians openly and I found myself in a difficult position of persecuting the people with whose opinions I mostly agreed. It was a constant moral battle but in the end my family's wellbeing and a healthy dose of self-preservation took the upper hand.
I defended and preserved the interests of king Artaxerxes to the best of my abilities and he was quite pleased with the results, so much so that he gave me a nearby satrapy to rule. From the very beginning, though my advisors and troops were obviously Persians, I employed many local people in my service. It gave me a lot of opportunities not only to learn about the habits and traditions of the indigenous population but also to sense their mood and I could feel it first hand when their habitual reluctance of serving their conquerors went from dormant hatred to active resistance. Of course, most of my Persian advisors and officers completely disagreed with my approach and were resentful of the fact that they met locals not only outside of their dwellings but in my residence as well. But I was a satrap and they had little choice in the matter but to grumble and to complain to each other about their bad luck of serving upstart, young and ignorant official.
I made it my custom to know almost everybody by name, to know about their family, their likes and dislikes, their aspirations and dreams. I always had a pretty good memory but I also relied on the notes that I wrote when left alone, it was too much to remember.
I was puzzled of how simple my so called advisors were and how little they understood politics despite being older and presumably more experienced. Only later I realized that I had an advantage of knowing how it felt of being on the other side, hating those whom you have to call your masters. Neither the Persians who by serving me served their king, nor the local population who were the conquered masses knew that I had the experience and feelings of both sides.
Also, I was aware that by being known of employing a lot of local folks I invited spies to my house. I knew that the thoughts of rebellion always were brewing in the subdued population and the heads of resistance couldn't miss the opportunity to install their own people inside the satrap's residence. I planned on this and on feeding the wrong information to the other side. It was a dangerous game and I knew the risks, but I have to admit I pretty much enjoyed it. Soon, king Artaxerxes gave me another sign of his benevolence – he sent me a beautiful young bride, a daughter of Median satrap. Unfortunately Farnaha, my new wife, who was a native of Ecbatana, didn't take well to the local climate. I presume you never been to Ecbatana," smiled Mazaeus, "but when you have a chance, you definitely should find an excuse of doing so. It's my second favorite city, after Babylon, obviously. A former main city of the powerful kingdom of Medes, it became a winter capital of Persian Great Kings for many generations now. I can for hours describe its beauty but I'd better leave it for you to see and appreciate with your own eyes.
And this is how I became acquainted with Ben-Hiram, my gardener. Mind you, I knew him for several years already, as I said, I took pains to learn my numerous staff, but he was a very reserved and secluded young man, not known for excessive talking and parried all my inquiring into his family with a polite excuse of being busy. However, this time he approached me himself. He said that the rumor among servants was that the Great King sent his loyal satrap a sick wife who was suffering from the shortness of breath. Ben-Hiram asked me to confirm whether the rumor was true. It was a very bold move on his part but something told me that he wasn't asking about it out of idle curiosity.
I didn't like his impudence though and I neither verified nor denied his statement but simply told him to mind his own business. He seemed surprised by my response, it was as if he expected me to show more interest on the subject. He politely bowed and affirmed that he won't approach me in the future, the reason for his current transgression simply being his desire to help. I said that he was hired as a gardener not a doctor and left. I remember being frustrated by the fact that he shunned all my previous attempts of making a conversation but showed the initiative when he thought it was appropriate. Unfortunately, the Persian doctor that I had in my staff didn't know how to help my wife and the local doctors said that they didn't know either, though I always suspected they simply didn't want to help.
My wife wasn't sick when she arrived and she never had any problems with her breath before, it all started some half a year after her arrival. I suspected the change of climate was the cause of my wife's problem of breathing but short of sending her back, I had no idea what to do, and I definitely didn't want to send her back – we both developed quite an attraction to each other. A few months passed since Ben-Hiram approached me and then one night Farnaha mentioned to me a man who came to her in our garden and said that he might be able to help her. I don't know why, but I immediately knew it was Ben-Hiram and I became very angry, how dared he to come near my wife when I explicitly forbade him to meddle in my life. The desire to summarily punish him and being able to help my wife strongly fought inside me for domination but in the end the love for my wife won. I decided to give it a try and see what the gardener could suggest. If it didn't work, I could always punish him and even take pleasure in the process.
I ordered him to be brought to my office. I distinctly remember picturing the scenes of torture that I was going to inflict on him when his method fails. I almost wanted him to fail so that I could punish him for his impudence. I don't know why of all the people I hated him that much but maybe it was because he was the only one who rejected my approaches to open about himself. All others were either too scared or too prudent and simply gave me what I wanted though most of what I learnt about the people who served me was simply convenient lies.
Ben-Hiram wasn't too scared or too concerned when he was brought into my presence but neither was he smug about the situation. He said he didn't know for sure what was wrong with my wife but said the local climate was most probably wrong for her. I felt irritated, I knew it already. As a matter of fact, I started seriously consider sending her home, we would be separated for a long time but it was better than to watch her die.
He didn't suggest sending her home but told me about a city of Arad that lay to the south of my satrapy. The unique location of the city made it ideal for the people who suffered from shortness of breath and my wife would benefit from living there. It was a few days journey from my residence but it was better than sending her home. It was a simple solution though I had no idea whether it would work but most of all I was suspicious, why would a Phoenician want the wife of his conqueror to get better? The logic said he would want her dead.
I said as much to Ben-Hiram but he seemed reluctant to answer my question though he assured me that the chances were high that my wife would get better. I felt extremely irritated at the man and sent him back to tend to my garden instead of giving me advices of how to treat my wife. I told him that I would check his suggestion and have him executed if the idea was wrong but if it was right he shouldn't expect any gratitude or special treatment from me, it was his duty to his master. I was forgetting that Ben-Hiram was my servant and not my slave."
"And this is the man whom you now call your dear friend and who sends you the precious gift of golden apples?" asked Hephaistion with surprise. "Now I am very curious to learn how the two of you turned your hatred into friendship."
"You are right, at that time Ben-Hiram hated me as much, and probably even more, than I hated him and if anybody would tell us then how our relationship would turn around in the future, both of us would laugh in the face of such a preposterous notion.
So, Ben-Hiram returned to his duties and I got down to finding out about the special qualities of the city of Arad. To my surprise, and I ashamed to admit, to my disappointment, I discovered that Ben-Hiram's suggestion was a genuine one – the city was known for the exceptional qualities of its air and many people from this region, who had the same problem with shortness of breath as did my wife, came to dwell in the city and their illness disappeared for as long as they stayed there. But getting rid of one suspicion, I started to entertain others – what if Ben-Hiram and what was even worse, my wife as well, somehow developed the fondness for each other and suggesting sending her to Arad was an excuse to remove her from my close supervision. Or, what if Ben-Hiram was part of the Phoenician resistance and they planned to kidnap my wife on route to Arad or while she was there and use her for blackmailing me?
I had my own spies, of course, and I send them after Ben-Hiram. Soon enough I learned about the reason why Ben-Hiram wanted to help my wife. He had a sister who was very sick, the same sickness as my wife had, and I figured out that, lacking the means of his own, he hoped to send his sister, together with my wife, to Arad. Suddenly, I felt ashamed of myself especially when I remembered that I told him not to expect any gratitude from me in case his solution would help. I recalled why I liked him in the first place. Despite his evident reluctance to serve me he did his job with excellence, striving for the best possible result. I realized that I projected my own existence on that of Ben-Hiram – we both served the Persians whom we hated though quite often I asked myself whether this inherited hatred was still true and what hope there was of Babylon ever becoming free of its oppressor and having means of returning to its former glory.
But, obviously, I was neither going to express those feelings to Ben-Hiram nor I wanted to show him that I relented. I prepared everything for my wife's departure and I brought Ben-Hiram's sister, Ashtoreth to serve her. The young woman was very sick and hardly suitable for the role, but my wife took immediately to her and Ashtoreth became more of her companion than a servant in the months to come. I told Ben-Hiram that his sister was to accompany my wife but not as a sign of gratitude but as assurance that the gardener didn't plot anything stupid. Though he tried to hide it, Ben-Hiram couldn't believe his luck but he was as reluctant to show his appreciation as I was reluctant to profess my own.
I missed my wife dearly and I would often go and visit her. I always took Ben-Hiram with me. He was happy to see his sister; as I learned later she was his only family left and she practically raised him when he was just a child. We developed this unspoken bond though we didn't acknowledge it to each other for a long time. Gradually, we started to talk to each other, more so during our journeys back and forth from Arad. This is how I learned about his obsession with golden apple trees, he asked me if I ever heard of it. I didn't but I promised to ask around. Cautiously and with some reluctance, he started to tell me a lot of the land that I ruled, its history, its gods, its people. I told him about the lands of Persia in return though I never divulged him information about my Babylonian routs. I realized that I was looking forward to my trips to Arad, not only because I was eager to see my wife and sons that she gave me but also because it was time when Ben-Hiram and I would take away our masks and talk to each other as friends, friends that we became without realizing when and how.
But of course a lot of other things were happing all around us and while Ben-Hiram and I became friends, other Phoenicians felt very little love towards Persians to whom they were obliged to pay a tribute. I was very much aware of the brewing dissent and tried my best to quench the fires but I suspected, sooner or later, a full blown revolt will break out. True enough, it indeed happened with Sidonian king Tabnit leading the uprising. The satraps of nearby provinces joined forces with me but for some time it didn't go well for us, especially when Egyptian Pharaoh Nectanebo joined the rebellion and sent Greek mercenaries under the command of Mentor as a help.
This is when Ben-Hiram came to me saying that the city of Arad where my wife and his sister resided was on route of Mentor's mercenaries coming from Egypt and if Mentor would become aware of the fact, he wouldn't miss a chance to sack the city and take my wife a prisoner. I sent as many troops as I could afford to Arad and Ben-Hiram went with them. I could do nothing more but to hope that the Persian contingent would arrive in time. A few days later, one of my spies that I had at king Tabnit court arrived to our army's headquarters with important information. He managed to secure a list of Phoenician spies who managed to establish themselves under the different roles in my circle. Some of the names were quite familiar to me and I knowingly fed them wrong information. To my distress, I noticed a name that I didn't expect to see on that list at all, that of Ben-Hiram. Seeing that my eye stopped at my gardener's name, my spy informed me that I should be particular cautious of this man and have to find and execute him immediately – from the very beginning he was sent to serve me with explicit orders to kill me when given a word from the king Tabnit himself.
I was never a naïve man but at that moment my world shattered to pieces. I simply couldn't believe that the only person outside of my family whom I learned to trust and respect was a successful spy. It probably was regarded as a sign from their gods when I got married to a woman who was afflicted by the same disease as Ben-Hiram's sister and the clever Phoenician managed to gain my trust. True, my wife was feeling far better in Arad than under my roof but now she was there, alone and without my protection and what was even worse, I sent Ben-Hiram to watch over her. For all I knew, he was going to deliver my wife to Mentor personally.
It were the worst days of my life and I have to admit, other traitors on my spy's list all died very gruesome deaths; I never tortured for the mere pleasure of it, but at the moment it was the only revenge I could afflict and I used it to the full extent of my imagination. Obviously, I didn't feel any better afterwards and as if the gods were mocking me, a few days later I got the terrible news that Arad was taken by Mentor's forces, all Persian population mercilessly killed and my wife and sons were prisoners of Mentor. Ben-Hiram became a part of the rebel general's entourage.
My rage and feeling of powerlessness knew no boundaries. It didn't help that a few days later my own troops were bested by the same Mentor and though I escaped unscathed, it didn't reflect well on my reputation. With the reminder of my troops I retreated to the area that was still under the Persian rule and sent a dispatch to Artaxerxes apprising him of the situation. I busied myself with taking care of my remaining army but all my thoughts were with my wife and children and the awful punishment that I was going to inflict on Ben-Hiram when I manage to capture him.
To my utter surprise, there was no need for me to hunt Ben-Hiram down, a few months later after my defeat at Mentor's hands, he appeared at my camp, together with my wife, my two sons and the only one surviving soldier from the initial contingent I sent to Arad to retrieve my wife. I felt shocked and mistrustful at the beginning but my wife managed to dissolve my bad feelings. She told me that for a brief period of time she was indeed Mentor's captive but the mercenary had no idea who she was. When Mentor's mercenaries stormed the city, my wife was at the temple of Ashera, a local goddess of healing, tending to Ben-Hiram's sister Ashtoreth, whose sickness was so advanced that even the beneficial air of Arad couldn't help her any longer. Because Ashtoreth was a Phoenician, Mentor's troops didn't touch her and she said that Farnaha, my wife, was her friend and a wife of some merchant who was absent from the city.
Ben-Hiram, believe it or not, was sent by king Tabnit to liaise with Mentor midway, appraise him of the Phoenician king's plans and guide him to the spot where the Phoenician would meet Mentor. Ben-Hiram didn't feel obliged to save the lives of people I sent with him to retrieve my wife so he led them directly into Memnon's hands and hugely outnumbered, they were almost all slaughtered. He learned about his sister and my wife being held in the temple of Ashera but felt it safer to leave them there without betraying any sort of relationship; after all, Mentor's troops were leaving Arad to meet with Phoenician king and Ben-Hiram went with them.
After the battle where Mentor defeated my troops, Ben-Hiram, instead of coming back to king Tabnit, went to Arad to retrieve his sister and my wife. Unfortunately, his sister died while he was away and was buried a few days before his return. After the period of mourning, Ben-Hiram volunteered to reunite my wife and children with me though he knew that by doing it he greatly endangered his own life. On the way back they encountered one of my soldiers who, though wounded, miraculously managed to escape both death and capture at the hands of Mentor's mercenaries. Despite the hatred between the two, they managed to work together in order to bring my wife and children to safety.
As you can understand, I was overjoyed at being reunited with my family, but I felt at loss as to what to do with Ben-Hiram. My wife asked to spare his life and, in all truth, I didn't think that I would be able to kill Ben-Hiram despite of dreaming for many weeks of tortures I would inflict on him. And the Phoenician didn't make it any easier for me. He didn't deny being sent to spy on me and kill me when the time arrived but said that killing my wife, who took care of his sister, didn't sit right with him. My soul was torn between feeling of gratitude and hatred, between feeling of being betrayed and realizing that I would do the same in his situation. In a way, I envied him, he dared to rebel against the conquerors of his land, whereas my family, for many generations, did nothing but serve its victors and pass the stifling hatred and futile hopes from father to son. And of course I also felt tremendously betrayed by Ben-Hiram, remembering our friendly conversations in the past years around the campsite on route to Arad.
In the end, I decided to let Ben-Hiram go free and told him that I never want to see him again or next time we meet, I won't be so generous with his life. He left saying nothing. I felt empty, betrayed and deserted by everybody. I had to send my wife and sons back to our family estate in Babylonia from where she could freely go to her native Ecbatana if the air of my fatherland was as poisonous for her as that of Phoenicia.
However, I had very little time for self-pity, the rebels still needed to be defeated and King Artaxerxes wasn't inclined to lose one his provinces. It took several years to amass a proper army but when it happened, the Phoenician rebels and their Egyptian allies stood no chance. Their defeat was absolute but it was the Egyptians who suffered the most. Mentor, being a mercenary, served only his own purse and went to a higher bidder betraying his former master. King Artaxerxes thought it wise to take a talented general under his wing, so he let him live and bought his service with a generous amount of money. King Tabnit tried to do the same but was less lucky. He betrayed his city but the citizens refused to surrender and set their citadel on flames. Artaxerxes had Tabnit executed; he had no need for him.
My reputation didn't suffer much, I continued to be a satrap of the Abar-Nahara region and was left with a task of mopping the remnants of the rebellion. All through this, the thought of Ben-Hiram rarely left my mind; whether I wished it or not, a few years we spent as some sorts of friends left an inerasable impression in my mind and heart and as much as I wanted, I couldn't get rid of the uneasy thought that I missed the man and our conversations. So, shortly after the Tabnit's execution, while I was dealing with remnants of Phoenician army and few remaining pockets of resistance, I sent some men to quietly inquire about my former gardener. To my relief, or, frankly, I wasn't quite sure how to express my feelings, he was found among the prisoners who were about to be executed for their part in the rebellion.
I had him brought to my estate and offered him his previous position as my gardener despite the fact that I knew that he was once hired to kill me and the events of the recent years didn't change anything to make him love me any better. Ben-Hiram bluntly refused to join my service again. He said there was no more need. I asked him what was the need before and the stubborn asshole didn't flinch by telling me it was in hopes of securing a better life for his sister and having a chance to dispose of me when the time was right. I felt exasperated and acidly asked him why he never tried to kill me despite having a plenty of opportunities. Ben-Hiram shrugged off my question and informed me he was in no mood to talk.
I felt defeated but I didn't want to admit it. I asked him what he was going to do if I let him free. He said that he had nothing but his trade so he would hire himself off as gardener to anybody who was willing to hire him; except me, of course. I offered him money saying that I was willing to give him enough so that he can travel in search of his legendary golden apples. I saw a momentous sparkle in his eyes but he quickly extinguished it saying he was not going to accept a bribe and would better die from starvation than to serve any Persian again. I got angry and kicked him out of my palace but not before setting some spies on him. I have no idea why and when I became practically obsessed with this man.
Things didn't go well for Ben-Hiram and he ended up practically beginning of the streets, still, he refused my help. This is when I came with an idea of helping him secretly. One of the Phoenician merchants came to me asking for help against his rival in trade. Sadly enough, in gratitude, he offered to spy for me among his countrymen and obviously some shares in profit. I learned that his merchant had a lovely villa that boasted a nice view over the sea and extensive garden. I agreed to help against his rival and in addition to his initial offer I demanded that he would install the gardener of my choice to the said villa. I said that the gardener in question should never learn that I was behind this request otherwise I would not only rescind my help but also punish him in the most cruel manner. Whatever the merchant felt about my additional demand, he followed everything I asked him religiously and soon Ben-Hiram was the sole overseer of a huge garden without learning how his good fortune came about.
I almost came to the end of my story," said Mazaeus being afraid that he bored Hephaistion with his tale though judging by general's attentiveness, Alexander's friend enjoyed every single word of it.
"A few months later, I received an anonymous gift of candied dates prepared by the recipe especially enjoyed by my wife. It was preserved in a way that could stay unspoiled for a very long time and I sent the whole package to Ecbatana, where my wife resided at the time. It didn't take me long to guess from whom the gift was coming. Trying to reciprocate the kindness, I sent one of my servants to Arad to tend to Ashtoreth's grave and then I sent the same servant to the villa with orders to buy some fruit and tell about his visit to Arad. From that moment on, we started to find excuses, some more silly than others, to stay in touch and over the years, we went as far as visiting each other, under one pretext or another. Gradually, we warmed towards each other again and resumed our friendly conversations about everything and nothing in particular.
Ben- Hiram was a very lonely man. All his family dead, his illusions about independent Phoenician king shattered, he felt cheated by life. His native city managed to regain some of its former status and prosperity but the new king thought of only how to serve his Persian master better and cared little about his own people, of low and high status alike.
I missed my wife and sons and visited them in Ecbatana as often as I could. During one of those trips, I was summoned to the court of king Darius, who became a new Great King a few months earlier. Honestly, I feared the worst. He just ordered the execution of Bagoas and as I told you in the beginning of my story, the eunuch came to serve king Artaxerxes from my grandfather's estate. I doubted that Darius forgot it so the only explanation was that he chose to ignore it. To my utter surprise and delight, it was a promotion, not the punishment that awaited me at Darius' court. At least I considered it a promotion. Instead of my provinces of Abar-Nahara, I was given a satrapy of Babylonia. In the years to come I often thought of Darius' choice and my only explanation for this and the future favors that he showed me was the fact that I never was involved in any power struggles that pestered the court of the Great King, regardless of who occupied the throne.
You see, when the satraps didn't side with any of the rebels who showered their desire to become the next Great King of Persia, they quarreled among themselves and those quarrels made it very difficult to maintain the stability of the empire. All the satraps hated each other and tried to wrestle as much power for themselves as was humanly possible, they cared little about the empire as one unified entity and thought only of how they can milk it to their utmost advantage and gain glory, wealth and more power in a process. I was not part of that power struggle and I think that Darius knew and appreciated it.
I became immensely happy with this new appointment, I could at last live and to a certain degree reign the land that I loved and that was my ancestral home and I could see my wife more often. I was given a leave to go to my former province to set things in order and to assure the smooth transition of power to the new satrap.
I went to the estate where Ben-Hiram lived and asked him to come with me. I even tempted him with a promise to make him a main supervisor of the famous Hanging Gardens in Babylon."
"Let me guess," ventured Hephaistion, "he refused."
"Yes," sighed Mazaeus, "but he promised to come and visit me one day. He never did and unfortunately now, he never will."
"Is he dead?" asked Hephaistion, "but it's can't be, it was just recently that he sent you this tree."
"No, he is well and alive."
"Then what? Did he get married and is reluctant to leave the shores of the Middle Sea?"
"No," Mazaeus shook his head, "it is because of you that he can't come."
"Because of me?!" Hephaistion didn't expect this turn of events. "What did I do? Did I badly injure him? Sold into slavery? What?"
"You are a very special man, Hephaistion, son of Amyntor," said Mazaeus and his lips formed into a broad and mischievous smile, "and you found a very special way to separate me from my friend of so many years."
"What did I do?" repeated his question Hephaistion completely taken aback by the sudden development of this story.
"You made my friend a king of Sidon."
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Author note # 1 (there going to be quite a few) – though the story above is fictional, it's not completely a figment of my imagination. Mazaeus was indeed a satrap of Phoenicia (a region known as Abar-Nahara at the time), took part in the defending Persian interests against the revolting king of Sidon known in Greek sources as Tennes but in his native Phoenician the name is Tabnit. There is no mentioning in the any of the known sources of Mazaeus and Abdalonymus ever meeting each other, but they were at the same place and at the same time. The only direct connection between the two (and the fact that inspired this story) is the famous Alexander's sarcophagus. Some historians say it belonged to Abdalonymus, others (Heckel among them) – to Mazaeus. The problem with theory supported by Heckel is the reason for this sarcophagus (if not made for Abdalonymus, then on his direct orders) being made in Sidon for a Persian satrap Mazaeus who died in 328 BC (Abdalonymus died years later, presumably in 312 BC). With this story I gave the answer for the predicament of Heckel's theory but if you are interested, you can read a very interesting discussion here aw/Post/1184041.
A/N #2: for obvious reasons, I wanted to keep the identity of Abdalonymus secret till the end, this is why I gave him the nickname of Ben-Hiram but it is he (not Alexander) who is the king in the title of this story.
A/N #3: on the surface, this story has little to do with Hephaistion and his death (except of occasional mentions of Ecbatana in the narrative and the story taking place in the end of October). And yet I decided to write it as an October contribution to Hephaistion's memory, a story with him present but mostly about two very different people whose lives he touched and methinks, changed forever.
A/N #4: I didn't mention the disease that Farnaha, Mazaeus' wife (her real name or ancestry is unknown) suffered from by name because I didn't know how it was called at that time but it was asthma. Though it's obviously a pure fiction but because I lived in the region I know that a lot of people who came to live in the area from the other parts of the world or even born there develop asthma. Near the modern city of Arad there is a place that now called Tel-Arad but was known as Arad (and some other names) throughout the history. The place was populated from the early Bronze period (~3000 BC). Due to its unique microclimate (and because it's in a middle of the desert) the place is safe haven to anybody afflicted by asthma.
A/N #5: the mysterious tree of golden apples in the beginning of the story is orange tree. There is a theory that the famous golden apples of Hesperides from the Greek Mythology are nothing else but oranges. The tree described as suspended in a pot of Mazaeus' garden exists in really in the streets of old Jaffa. You can see image if you Google "suspended orange tree" or read about its creator whose name is Ran Morin and his other works.