Epilogue: To Kill a Corpse
Queen of the Sea, off Formentera Island
Sunset, December 11, 319 BCE
As soon as they entered the captain’s suite where Lars and Marie were waiting for them, Dag said, “Sir, we have to kill that bastard One-eye. Forget the Queen’s usual neutrality.”
“It has nothing to do with neutrality,” said Roxane. “The Queen holds its position in the world not simply—not mostly, being honest—because of neutrality. You hold the position you do because everyone fears to anger you. And with good reason. They remember what happened to Gorgias’ fleet and the men who seized the Reliance. If you let Antigonus live now, your authority will start slipping away. And Macedonia is no longer a hazard, now that Cassander is dead and Thessalonike will be ruling there.”
“I quite agree,” Lars Floden said. “Now please tell me how we are going to kill Antigonus—which, mind you, will require defeating his army as well. He’s in Babylon. That’s three hundred miles from the Persian Gulf, twice that far from the Mediterranean coast.”
“I don’t know, sir, but we have to find a way.” Dag sat down at the table. “We are going to need New America for this. They have some navy veterans in their navy and . . . Wait a minute . . . they converted that lifeboat they bought into a patrol boat. Could we do that?”
“Do we know if a lifeboat can get that far up the Euphrates?” asked Floden.
“I think so, sir. I think the reason Babylon is there is because it’s about as far up the Euphrates as you can get before you have to start portaging your boats.”
“But if we build them on the Queen every scholar on the ship is going to know what we’re doing,” said Marie.
“Yes, they will. We need to talk to New America,” Dag said. “Have them build the platforms, then have the Reliance bring them to us somewhere out of sight of anyone.”
“All right, Mr. Jakobsen. We have the start of a plan. It will need to be fleshed out, and it’s going to take months, all while what that bastard did to our people leaks out. And some of the locals are going to flock to his banner over it.” Captain Floden shook his head. “I never wanted to be a military man, Dag, but right now I would cheerfully trade the Queen of the Sea for an Abrams tank.”
“We’ll figure it out, sir. One way or another, we’ll get the bastard.”
Roxane sat next to Dag. “You will need Eumenes, also. And Attalus, if he’s still alive. And most of all . . . ”
She paused, as if steeling her will. “You will need Eurydice—and Philip.”
Eumenes’ army camp
Evening, December 11, 319 BCE
Philip was sitting up in their bed when Eurydice entered their tent. He was working on his notes. Something mathematical.
“You heard?” she asked.
He didn’t look up. “Yes. Eumenes came in and told me.”
Eurydice herself had been attending a childbirth. One of the camp followers had had a baby that afternoon. It was not the first time she’d ever been present at such an occasion, but she now had a much keener interest.
Normally, she would have discussed the new political situation with Philip. He still found politics mostly a puzzle, but he did have flashes of insight. Eurydice had come to understand, over time, that in his own way her husband was quite brilliant.
But that had to take second place this evening.
“I’m pregnant,” she said. “I’m quite sure of it.”
Philip said nothing. He didn’t raise his gaze from the notes he was scribbling.
Eurydice wasn’t offended or angry. This was just the way he was. She went over to the bed, sat down next to Philip, and squeezed him as tightly as she could.
After a few seconds, Philip asked, “Have you spoken to Roxane?”
“Yes.”
“The empire has to survive. It has to prosper. That means you and Roxane have to keep getting along.”
She smiled—and kept a tight squeeze. “Yes. Yes. Yes. She thinks all that is true also.”
“Good.” He went back to working on his notes. Eurydice didn’t release him. After a while, Philip spoke again.
“I have been reading about the ship people’s history. Their great empire was Roman, not Greek like ours.”
“Macedonian, not Greek,” she said sternly.
“There’s not really any difference. Not in the long run. But what’s important about that history is that the Romans often had two rulers. They made it work. They did, Eurydice.”
“I believe you.”
“We’re much smarter than Romans, too.”
“That’s true,” she said. “Although they’ll probably get smarter after . . . ”
She decided not to finish the sentence the way she’d intended. After we conquer them might upset Philip. So she just said:
“After they spend more time with us.”
Again, he surprised her. “After we conquer them, is what you really mean. That’s all right. In the ship people’s world, they conquered us so it’s only fair we do it here. But first we have to deal with Antigonus.”
“Antigonus is dead.”
Philip shook his head. “That’s a silly way to put it. You need to study calculus. Antigonus is becoming dead.”