War Host
Title: War Host
Author: Florence A. Watson
Books: The Persian Boy
Character: Sisygambis, Alexander
Mentioned: Darius
Written for: Brigit’s Flame February 2013 Challenge (week two)
Prompt: Vulture
Rating: General
Length: 396 words
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters and make no profit from them.
Acknowledgements: When King Darius of Persia fled before Alexander the Great at Issus he left behind his mother Sisygambis, wife Stateira and three children. They were taken into Alexander’s protection. Sisygambis disowned her son for his cowardice in battle and thereafter referred to Alexander as her son.
War Host
They had feasted at Issus. Gold and silver were the spoils of war for men; blood and flesh for the vultures that followed them. She could not remember ever having seen them before this year, though she supposed she must at some stage. She was old enough to have experienced most things, good or bad. But, it was difficult to know; one’s perspective could be so limited behind the walls of a harem. One could see and hear, yet not understand; the sheltered wife and honoured mother was allowed so little knowledge. Her view had broadened since knowing Alexander. The irony did not escape her. Darius had not protected her; but his harem had circumscribed her life. Alexander had taken her under his protection; and her world had expanded. Travelling with the army, Sisygambis had got used to the vultures’ constant presence. Perhaps used was not quite the right word - accustomed to the implications of these birds’ company might be better. There was a group of them perching in a tree to the left: large, strangely beautiful, with huge beaks and wide brown wings: well-fed birds, growing fat on Persian dead.
“They will not trouble you much longer,” said Alexander from behind her.
Sisygambis turned from the window and smiled at this strange barbarian king who had become so dear to her in so short a time. He dressed abominably simply and went everywhere without ceremony. Yet, unmistakably he commanded, in a way Darius never had.
“Your war council has made a decision, then.”
“I’ve made a decision,” Alexander asserted quietly, “after listening to council.”
“And you go to fight.”
He nodded his head.
“To win.”
“I believe so. But in case not, you and your ladies will be safe here. The camp has been fortified against looters; and if I lose, it will be your son who comes to your rescue.”
“I have no son, save you.”
It was not the first time she had thought this; though it was the first time she had said so openly. Alexander’s eyes glowed; hers smiled back with unmitigated approval.
Early the next morning, cloaked in scarlet so all could see him easily, Alexander rode at the head of his troops toward the plain of Gaugamela. 40,000 men and 7,000 cavalry went with him - and several hundred birds. To her surprise, Sisygambis found she missed their hisses and grunts at breakfast.
Author: Florence A. Watson
Books: The Persian Boy
Character: Sisygambis, Alexander
Mentioned: Darius
Written for: Brigit’s Flame February 2013 Challenge (week two)
Prompt: Vulture
Rating: General
Length: 396 words
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters and make no profit from them.
Acknowledgements: When King Darius of Persia fled before Alexander the Great at Issus he left behind his mother Sisygambis, wife Stateira and three children. They were taken into Alexander’s protection. Sisygambis disowned her son for his cowardice in battle and thereafter referred to Alexander as her son.
War Host
They had feasted at Issus. Gold and silver were the spoils of war for men; blood and flesh for the vultures that followed them. She could not remember ever having seen them before this year, though she supposed she must at some stage. She was old enough to have experienced most things, good or bad. But, it was difficult to know; one’s perspective could be so limited behind the walls of a harem. One could see and hear, yet not understand; the sheltered wife and honoured mother was allowed so little knowledge. Her view had broadened since knowing Alexander. The irony did not escape her. Darius had not protected her; but his harem had circumscribed her life. Alexander had taken her under his protection; and her world had expanded. Travelling with the army, Sisygambis had got used to the vultures’ constant presence. Perhaps used was not quite the right word - accustomed to the implications of these birds’ company might be better. There was a group of them perching in a tree to the left: large, strangely beautiful, with huge beaks and wide brown wings: well-fed birds, growing fat on Persian dead.
“They will not trouble you much longer,” said Alexander from behind her.
Sisygambis turned from the window and smiled at this strange barbarian king who had become so dear to her in so short a time. He dressed abominably simply and went everywhere without ceremony. Yet, unmistakably he commanded, in a way Darius never had.
“Your war council has made a decision, then.”
“I’ve made a decision,” Alexander asserted quietly, “after listening to council.”
“And you go to fight.”
He nodded his head.
“To win.”
“I believe so. But in case not, you and your ladies will be safe here. The camp has been fortified against looters; and if I lose, it will be your son who comes to your rescue.”
“I have no son, save you.”
It was not the first time she had thought this; though it was the first time she had said so openly. Alexander’s eyes glowed; hers smiled back with unmitigated approval.
Early the next morning, cloaked in scarlet so all could see him easily, Alexander rode at the head of his troops toward the plain of Gaugamela. 40,000 men and 7,000 cavalry went with him - and several hundred birds. To her surprise, Sisygambis found she missed their hisses and grunts at breakfast.