PROGRESS REPORT #54: AT A STANDSTILL

MYKONOS SUNSET

I've been busy working on a couple of assignments for Planet Eye lately, as well as trying to post a few pieces for The Vancouver Guide and catch up with blogging. Unfortunately this means my time for writing on SHADOW has been badly depleted. And not only that, I seem to be lacking the inspiration and incentive to really discipline myself to get back into it.

So tonight I looked back over some emails I've recieved in the past from one of my writer heros, Steven Pressfield, and here's what he told me some time ago when I had just started on the last lap of the journey:


"... the end is always the hardest. Resistance really rears its ugly head. I heard a great phrase the other day to describe that feeling -- 'escape velocity'. It's from "The Artist's Way" and what it means is that, like a satellite trying to break from from gravity and earth's orbit, the last few miles per hour require an expenditure of rocket fuel WAY PAST normal. So hang tough, baby! What's you're experiencing is just what every other artist goes through at this point. "

Just reading this right now has given me a boost. I need to be around friends (like the ones I have in Athens) who enjoy talking about the book, inquiring about it, discussing Alexander's world with me. That gets me motivated more than anything. But Steve's words also are a great motivator.

NAXOS SUNSET

I was supposed to read at my Scribbler's group last night but didn't get any time to do the revisions on the last chapter that I need to do before progressing. Instead, I found a few pages of my old novel "Dragons In the Sky: A Celtic Tale" and I read that. Wow! I hadn't read any of it for literally years, aside from the introduction, and the words just sang to me. It's sheer poetry. I was amazed. And that in itself is incentive to finish SHADOW so that I can go back and finish "DRAGONS".

SANTORINI SUNSET

And I found an encouraging horoscope for myself today too:
"You have way more going for you than you realize. Your hard work will pay off and even your worst critic will have to back down and honor what you have been able to accomplish. The sky is the limit if you focus on achieving your goals."

Now, isn't that enough to light a fire under your bum and get you focused and back into your serious work? At least I know that the time I took off to write all those hotel and destination blurbs for Planet Eye have paid off monetarily big-time which pleases me. It wasn't as if I was 'wasting time' or deliberately ignoring SHADOW. It was a chance to make up the money I lost by having my July classes canceled. And I did it! So now, for the rest of the summer I should be able to relax, concentrate on the novel and take myself back into Alexander's world.

Watch for updates here soon!

MEMORIES

FULL MOON RISING OVER PHILOPAPPOU HILL, ATHENS

I'm back, with memories of a month well-spent in England, Wales and Greece. It's been difficult readjusting to my own culture, the climate, the pace of life here which is so different, especially from my other life in Greece. I can't say I've felt happy about being back, even unhappier when I found out that the classes I was supposed to teach during July (for which I'd cut my trip to Greece short!) had been cancelled. Looking on the good side of this is, it gives me more time to get back at my serious writing (finish Shadow!) and allows me a bit of time to do other things during the week, such as accept invitations from friends to go to one of the Gulf Islands on a camping trip.

It's been a busy time since I returned as well. There were friends' birthday celebrations, Greek Summer Festival and the Jazz Festival events to attend. This week things are slowing down. And it's raining! (what else is new here on the wet coast! (They keep telling me how warm it was while I was away -- yeah -- a heat wave. Well, I left Greece in 35 C temperatures and have not been amused to find it well below the 20's here since I got back. So much for Coastal 'heat waves'.) Went to the beach yesterday -- too cold to swim in the sea and to chilly to hang out at poolside trying to replentish my tan which is quickly fading. Oh, grumble, grumble!

TWILIGHT OVER THE AEGEAN, NAXOS

Anyway, you will soon see what I left behind me, (as I intend to catch up on the travel blogs I did not have time to post while on the road being a tour guide for my sister and niece). I have many photos too, and if you happen to be on Facebook you might view a few of my albums. Or you'll get glimpses of them here.

Now here's an interesting thing about 'returning'...my mind is chock full of ideas, memories (old and new) and thoughts about things in general. And just like your good old computer, your memory tends to get far too full. So you have to clean it out and start fresh, or at least clear out the space for new thoughts and ideas.

I have a lot of writing to do now. Especially I have to pick up the threads of Shadow where I left off and resume the work on the last few chapters. I've also been thinking a bit about my other novel which I wish to return to work on once Shadow is done. Besides that, I have been mind-boggled by stuff here -- You always notice more clearly what's going on when you've been away for awhile, and frankly I just can't stand some things I see going on here. I want to be back in my Greek space. My whole life changes the minute I arrive there and then I go into culture shock when I return.

Well, the other evening I attended an excellent concert at the Jazz Festival: Hugh Fraser quintet and Chucho Valdez quartet. (I saw them both play in Havana a few years ago so I'm a fan.) As I sat there alone in my seat and let the music wash over my, I found my mind become completely absorbed and carried away. Thoughts kept spinning by, everything from scenes of Shadow to current events to long ago traumatic memories. But they were going by quickly, as if my brain was 'purging' all the unnecessary thoughts much like you clean out your computer memory. Afterwards, when the conert was finished (and it was a fantastic concert!) I felt somewhat more relaxed and renewed. I realized I had to clear out the clutter of my mind before I could settle down to serious writing again.

Yesterday I headed for the park and beach. I took time to walk around through the flower gardens and then went for my swim in the pool. It was too chilly to sit around 'tanning' so I took my picnic lunch to a table by the beach and sat quietly perusing all the notes I'd made for the next chapter of Shadow before I'd left on my trip. Then I walked the sea wall and ended up at another park looking for friends at the out-door jazz festival events. No luck. So I came home and had a quiet evening: a ride in my friend's BMW - top down, cool! -- icecream on the Drive -- and then home again to sort through my new thoughts and ideas, look at my photos and recall the happy memories of my holidays.

Today, it's time to start writing again. So I have begun by writing this blog. And next I'll start on the travel blogs. And then I will begin the next chapter of Shadow. My summer of writing is beginning with a clean slate. I'm not going to let anything interupt it.

SANTORINI SUNSET

A DISAPPEARING ACT

CENTURY GARDENS

I could have sworn that I posted a blog here the other day. I know I posted in my Travel Blog and also Conversations with Myself and I am 100% certain I put one up about Living the Writer's Life too. Or maybe I'm losing my mind? I've been so busy these days and now the crunch is on because I'll be leaving on my holidays in just two weeks time. And I've still so much to do.

For one thing, I've had to pre-post 24 stories and photos for the Vancouver Guide (Planet Eye) as well as the 3 or 4 stories I post each week. So that has taken a lot of time to prepared, go on field trips, organize and write. I spent a good 7 hrs at the computer on Friday doing this and now it's pretty well caught up and I can resume a little work on my novel, which has been sadly neglected of late.

So much for my well-intentioned plans to finish before I left for Greece. I tried, but first my computer had problems, then I had all this other writing to do. As well, I am teaching three days a week and have editing and so forth to do for those classes.

THE BURNABY ART GALLERY
One thing I have been doing is going on field trips to get story ideas for the Vancouver Guide. Every Sunday I go for a special walk. Last week I went to this beautiful park/garden for the Rhododendron Festival. I also walked around the lake there. Tomorrow, for my Sunday walk, I will only have a short one because it's MOther's Day and I've been invited out for lunch and later for dinner. But I do have an idea of what to do and that is to go and take photos of the Eagles in the City sculptures that are located all around downtown. Decorated eagles that will later be auctioned for the Children's Hospital. You can see all these stories on the Vancouver Guide
http://thevancouverguide.planeteye.com

This is a paying writer's gig so I take it seriously and I'm enjoying doing some restaurant reviews as well. Just posted one about celebrating Cinco de Mayo last week at a Mexican restaurant where they had a mariachi band from Jalisco Mexico.

Yes, and that's another thing, my social life has been very exciting with no end of things to do. This week there's been various events besides the Cinco de Mayo. One day I went to a reception party after a friend's book launch. He's a Peruvian friend and a very good writer. Last night we went to a CD launch for a young musician from Columbia and his group. Tonight my friend treated me to the new movie of Star Wars.

Well, I do get some time to write and usually spend a lot of time at the computer so having a break once in awhile like today was really a nice treat. And next week for sure I intend to finish off another chapter of Shadow so that I'll one more chapter closer to finishing.

PROGRESS REPORT #53: BREAKING THROUGH

AMPHIPOLIS

There's been one barrier after another stopping me from working on Shadow of the Lion these past weeks. Just when I'd cleared some time and space to move forward, my computer blew up (the electrical) so I was without my writing tool for a couple of weeks. Now I'm back in business again, but trying to catch up on everything that got so far behind while I wasn't able to work. With my vacation time looming in the next couple of week (May 24 is departure day) I have to prepost a lot of stories for the Vancouver Guide on Planet Eye as well as writing my usual 3 or 4 stories per week. This has included a couple of field trips (one out to see the tulip fields last weekend.) As well, I am instructing three memoir classes and a travel writing night school class. This has included a bit of class editing although I am now going to put restrictions on that.

Last night I managed to workshop the up-to-date writing on the newest chapter of Shadow so now I have some edits to do before proceeding with the rest of that chapter. It has seemed so hard to focus and find time to break through the writer's block. I had so wanted to finish the novel before leaving for my trip back to Greece, but can see that is impossible at this point. Although I am very, very close to writing THE END. I had an encouraging Facebook message from one of my writing heroes', Steven Pressfield, the other week. He said that the last part of the novel is sort of like a rocket re-entering the earth's atmosphere --- a lot of extra power is required to keep the momentum up. He told me that this is common for all writers, and not to let it get me down. "Kick ass!" he said. So yes, Steve, I will do that. I just have to put my mind to it and make the time and I'm certain I'll be able to 'break through' and come to a successful 'landing'. Whether or not it happens by May 24, I'll certainly give it a try anyway. Discipline, Determination and avoiding Distraction!

In these final chapters of Shadow, my characters -- Roxana and Iskander -- are faced with many difficulties. Held under a sort of 'house arrest' in the fortress at Amphipolis, their lives have taken a strange and unsettling turn. Will they break through the barriers that face them?

* * *

Roxana took a little comfort knowing that she and her child were both safe and reasonably comfortable here in the Amphipolis’ hilltop fortress, an old castle built on a high bluff above the sweeping curve of the Strymon River. Its high ashlar walls commanded a view of prospects on every side, and, on a clear day, distant landmarks like the cloud shrouded peaks of Mount Athos were visible. From her window, in a room high up in a tower, she could look outover the river delta. The wide prospect from the heights stretched before her. The view of the mountains exalted her with a feeling of freedom. Kassandros had said he wanted her and the child to feel ‘at home’ in Amphipolis. The irony was, she had left the confines of the harem and the hostile halls of Pella for anew kind of prison -- one where Kassandros was her warden.

Sadly, she turned away from the window and went back to her loom in front of the hearth. Her chamber was furnished with the few possessions Kassandros had allowed her to bring. The only furniture were the two divans ornamented with jasper and carved ivory, draped with Persian weavings she had brought from the East, and a table of cedar wood on which she had placed fresh sprigs of myrtle in terra-cotta vases. She had hung bundles of herbs to sweeten the musty air. Two lamps burned in bronze holders near the couch where she rested on a heap of tasselled cushions. Amphipolis had once been ruled by the Greeks so the rooms had mosaic tiled floors and colourful hand-woven hangings covered the stone walls.

She had not expected to stay here long, so she made do as best she could, and had tried to remain dignified and agreeable. Each day she dressed most extravagantly in gowns made of fine silk that had come from the Land of Encircling Ocean, or flamboyant Soghdian dresses of brilliant hues, heavy with embroidery and sewn with glittering coins and luck charms. What few pieces of jewelery she wore was all that remained of her wealth, the rest had been left behind in Pella or lost after she’d been captured at Pydna. Her most treasured possessions were a dazzling pair of diamond earrings Alexander had brought from India, and the rubies her father had given her as a wedding gift. She wore them day and night like a talisman to ward off misfortune.

As she sat idly at the loom she caressed the facets of the rubies, feeling warmth in her fingertips, her mind drifting back to the day so long ago that her father had placed them around her neck and kissed her. “Remember who you are,” he had said. ‘You are Roxana, my Little Star, daughter of Oxyartes. Never forget this.”

Tears welled in her eyes. She thought of all the years gone by, the tragedies and sorrows of her life, how she had fought to try and keep her dignity and protect her child. Now she wondered what would become of them. Who was there left who would help them and save them from their enemies. She rubbed her hand across her eyes and straightened her shoulders. In front of her, on the looms, was the half-finished garment she was weaving for her son. She stroked the fine linen threads. She had dyed them herself from mulberries gathered from trees in the castle courtyard. She sighed, and picked up the spindle, and began to weave but as always, her interest in the task waned and she got up again and went back to the window, to look out toward the sea and the surrounding mountains.

It was loneliness that brought her spirits down most of all. At first some of the soldier’s wives had come to visit, making her feel welcome with their gifts of simple homespun cloths and treats of home-baked sweets. Perhaps from suspicion, and lack of experience co-mingling with women who were below her royal station, she had made it clear to them that she was the queen mother and held herself aloof, regarding them as nothing more than the servants who had once served her. After all, who could she trust? She was so used to the intrigues of the harem that she trusted no-one. The women soon withdrew their acts of hospitality. Now she regretted this lapse in her own judgement, finding herself quite alone. Although she tried to make amends, it was too late. She had insulted their dignity.

Now, aside from occasional visits with the Aristonous, the garrison commander, in which the main topic of discussion was the companionship of their sons, Roxana wiled away her time at the loom, cloistered in her room alone and regretful. She was glad, at least, that her child had a worthy playmate, and all the benefits of a being under the guardianship of a man who had been a loyal companion of his father. She saw little of Iskander who spent most days with Orion at the gymnasium or sometimes, accompanied by Aristonous, learning to ride and hunt and even to use weapons.

Iskander, like herself, had borne their confinement stoically, scorning all semblance of fear. Kassandros had assured them that they were not ‘prisoners’ but were being held for ’protection’. He had promised to provide a tutor for the child, but it was almost summer and none had arrived. Iskander had already begun to lose his skill in Greek, the language of the court, and spoke in the coarse Doric patois of Aristonous’ son, even forgetting his refined manners. And although she insisted he wear beautiful clothes suited to an imperial child, he would came back to her each night so soiled and tattered from rough play that it brought tears to her eyes. What would happen when the day came for him to ascend the throne?

THE FORTRESS RUINS

THE BEST LAID PLANS

I'm writing this from a web cafe and something weird is going on with this blue underlining. I had great plans to finish my novel by the end of May when I am leaving for England/Greece, but last week my computer blew up on me. Fortunately not the hard drive, just the electrical. But it's going to be a couple of weeks before I'm up and running again and as I am leaving here May 24 there certaintly won't be time to finish Shadow of the Lion.

This is also putting a glitch in my weekly (paid) writings for the Vancouver Guide although at least I can post those (without the photos) and I'll be able to pre-date the ones for posting while I'm away.

This has been a very disturbing and upsetting development right when I had so much to do. The best laid plans....and all...

On top of this distress I had just dealt with some upsetting interference of certain people at one of my memoir writing groups. I have a great aversion to 'cliques' of any sort and perhaps that's one reason why I'm not as yet involved in the larger travel writer's organizations. So when it starts happening in my own little writing workshop groups I get very disturbed by it. At this point things are settled down. This week I organized a very successful exchange reading with
writer's groups from across the Lower Mainland who all came to my Brock House group to share their readings. It was a wonderful event, a bright sunny day down by the beach and everyone really enjoying themselves. There's some very fine writers in Vancouver and it was so good to get together to hear one another's work.

So, hopefully things will solve themselves. I am frustrated right now, wanting so badly to work on the next chapter segment of Shadow. I had the use of a laptop at home but by the weekend it also went on the fritz. It seemed almost as if I was under some kind of bad spell last week and I even started wearing my Greek mati to ward off the evil eye. (I really think it worked!)

Anyway friends, I will be back with more of the Progress Report as soon as I have my own computer back. See you then.

A WINDY WALK ON THE BEACH AND WRITING

JERICHO BEACH

I'm lucky because one of my writing groups (The Brock House Writers) is located right by this beach, one of Vancouver's finest recreation areas. So on Wednesday when I had finished my morning group and had lunch with a few of the writers, I went for a refreshing stroll down the beach. It was a brisk, windy morning, still bitterly cold but so clear with the skyline and mountains dazzling in the distance. I like to walk when I am sorting out my thoughts and working on new writing. Over this long, snowy winter I haven't had the daily walks that mean so much to my well-being but the last few days have been bright and sunny. So I took advantage of it, even though a chill wind was blowing that nearly froze my fingers as I took photos along the way. Living on the Coast you learn to take full advantage of the sunny days, and yes, it has started to rain again. Somehow I sense Spring is creeping up on us though, as the next day, while walking in the West End, I spotted the first buds of the cherry blossoms on the trees that line the streets where I have my Thursday morning memoir group.

EBB TIDE AND CITY SKYLINE

I have had a particularly busy Fall and Winter, as I took on a few extra classes in order to make a bit of money toward my planned visit to Wales and Greece at the end of May. Unfortunately it has eaten up some of my personal writing time, so I'm falling a little behind with work on SHADOW. Besides the classes, I also write four pieces a week for the online travel guide Planet Eye (check out my new stories, now with photos, at http://thevancouverguide.planeteye.com ) In addition to all this, I am editing/publishing my on-line travel 'zine. And the new stories will be up by next week so check it out at www.travelthruhistory.com (I'm not making any money on this venture -- so please click the ads so I can ) I have received many inspiring accolades from all corners of the world about the quality of the site. And I am amazed at the many stories that get contributed for the publication.

A lot of my own writing time is spent in research and my table is always piled with papers and books. Before I start each section I must go through and check and I am trying my best to be accurate in spite of the fact a lot of the 'facts' are contradictory. Then I write, then I workshop, then I rewrite -- again and again. (So often what I post here as snippets are early drafts). It's an inspiration (and also sometimes a learning experience) for me when I instruct the classes. In particular the novel-writer's workshop I have been conducting at home once a week -- a new writers who started out in my night school classes. But I find the time races by and I still have so much work to do on SHADOW just to finish the complete story. (And then the final work on the final draft which will happen over the summer. I want to have it ready enough to speak to an agent/editor at next Fall's Surrey Writer's Conference).

Most of my classes are finishing for the Winter sessions but will soon begin again in April. The Brock House group has asked me to continue right through and I'll continue with the novel writing workshop at least until the end of March. In the midst of all this business, one must take time to reflect, relax, and enjoy. So, I grab the opportunity each time we have a bright, sunny day like this one was and I head down to the Park or the beach or even just stroll the neighbourhood. I've always been a 'walking writing' and get some of my most inspiring thoughts while I am strolling along. (And always remember to have that notebook and pen handy!) I recall early drafts of SHADOW written while I was spending time in Greece, and a lot of my ideas came flooding into mind as I walked up and down the mountainside from my shepherd's village on the island of Evvia, or while I basked in the sun and swam in the Aegean Sea.

Last night I went to the theatre with my friends to see a rare production of "Coriolanus" by Shakespeare, a difficult play rarely produced. The director was a friend of mine (he starred in a lead role in my own play "The Street" back in 2000) and the play was staged in modern dress as so often is the case these days. It's an interesting, if not a bit confusing. Strangely, while listening and watching, a flood of ideas and thoughts came to me for SHADOW. Now I feel I can make some progress this week, sort out the tangled threads, and move on to THE END.

SEA GULL SENTINEL

PROGRESS REPORT #52: IN PRAISE OF WOMEN

TEMPLE OF ARTEMIS, EPHESUS

My busy life is getting a little more slowed down (after this week) when classes end and Spring break begins. I need some time on my own now to catch up. It's been difficult trying to get any serious work done on SHADOW OF THE LION because of my busy schedule. But I have started PART VII and haven't too much to do before I am finished.
THE END. What a thrill that will be and it will certain call for a celebration. I finished the first chapter of Part VII and have started the second chapter. When I'm doing new work it means stopping and researching, checking facts etc. as this part (the politics) is somewhat complicating with conflicting notes. Keeping in mind I am writing a 'fiction' book I still have to be as accurate as possible for events that are recorded historically. This first chapter in Part VII begins with one of my fictional characters NABARZANES, the Persian court advisor who was expelled from Pella by Olympias (because she was jealous of the attention he paid to her grandson, little Alexander (Iskander). He had set off to return to Babylonia to seek assistance from either of his friends Peukestes or Seleukos to rescue Alexander's son from the clutches of Kassandros. He has, at this point, reached Ephesus where he has spent the winter with a dear friend of his, BARSINE, who is one of the women in Alexander's histories who doesn't get much exposure -- at least, not as much as she should in my opinion. And who knows what they said about her was all that truthful? After all, she was a Persian, daughter of a prominent Persian ambassador/satrap. And for a time she was Alexander's mistress. So, in honor of INTERNATIONAL WOMEN'S DAY I have decided to post a segment of this chapter that features beautiful Barsine.
And this is especially for any woman who has been abandoned by a man who she loved.

THE AGORA, EPHESUS

Nabarzanes whipped Shaqal into a gallop and sped out of the market square and up the cobbled road to the Hill of Nightingales. A pack of stray dogs ran alongside barking and snapping at the horse’s hooves.

Barsine’s villa was high on the terraced slopes where the wealthy Ephesians had their manors. The fine painted house had belonged to her husband Memnon,. a Greek general who had allied with Shah Darius against Alexander. A garlanded marble bust of Memnon guarded the front entrance.

Nabarzanes turned his horse over to a groom and mounted the steps to the porticoe. A fat, elderly chamberlain let him into the reception hall where the antique Persian-style furniture and faded wall murals showed the signs of the house’s fading opulence.

Barsine was waiting for him. Even in her late forties, she was still a woman of great beauty, with the delicate features of Persian nobility. She was almost as tall as he and her green-gold eyes met his steadily, the expression on her face grave.

“What news do you bring?”

Nabarzanes told her about the declaration of war. “Ptolemy’s navy has invaded all the seaports of Phoenicia. The coalition of Diodochi have declared war against Antigonos. Come summer, torrents of Greek and Macedonian blood will flow.”

Barsine’s face grew pale with shock. She caught in a sharp breath. For a long time she stood silent, as if trying to absorb the news.
“If there is to be a war, perhaps we should move north to Pergamon,” she said finally. “My husband had an estate there --- “
“You will surely be safe here, Barsine,” Nabarzanes said. “Antigonos has
deployed the royal navy in order to protect these northern ports.” He paused,
weighing his thoughts, trying to hide his real concern from her. “The way back to Babylon may be blocked. Seleukos has joined with the others against Antigonos. Now Kassandros has all the Diodachi on his side.”

Barsine looked pensive. It had been years since her husband was killed in battle and she, along with Darius’ royal women, had fallen into Alexander’s hands. “When Memnon was killed and Darius fled, the whole of Persia was there for Alexander’s taking. We all knew that Memnon was the strength and brains behind the Persian army,” she said. . She rarely spoke of her husband, Memnon, but when she did it was without the touch of bitterness that showed whenever she mentioned Alexander.

“Without Memnon’s brilliant leadership Darius was nothing. Darius knew he could not stop Alexander,” she went on. “The Egyptians welcomed him as a pharaoh-god; Babylon hailed him as liberator. Now Alexander, the Lion of Macedon, is dead, and those men who stood shoulder to shoulder with him squabble like a pack of jackals over his remains.”

Nabarzanes knew it pained her to think of Alexander who she had known since childhood when her father was the Persian ambassador to Macedon. When Memnon was killed and Darius fled leaving his harem behind, Alexander had treated her with deep respect, and in fact they had become lovers. Nabarzanes remember the night when he and Barsine had sat together on this same terrace and she had told him of her despair when Alexander abandoned her in favour of Roxana, not knowing she was pregnant with his child.

“Alexander’s fame has not been very well received since the gods received him,” Nabarzanes agreed. “No-one can match his greatness, yet instead of honouring him his Successors defile his memory by fighting to destroy Alexander’s world. It will be a bitter war, one that cannot have a celebration of victory, and it could mean the end of Alexander’s dynasty. It is Alexander’s son and his mother that I am concerned about. I swore allegiance to the child at his birth and promised, when Olympias expelled me, to protect and honour him, to seek counsel from my friends Peukestas and Seluekos for they were not allied with Kassandros then.”


Barsine interrupted, her voice sharp. ““If they kill the Soghdian‘s child, then there
is always my son. Herakles is almost old enough to claim what should be his inheritance, because he too, is Alexander’s son.” She looked at him, her eyes beseeching him. “Nabarzanes, I know you are an honourable man, and Iskander-shah was like a son to you, but...”

“Iskander-shah is more than a son, Barsine. He is the Chosen One, and just as I served his father, Alexander, so I also swore an oath to serve his son.”

“But how can you now?” Her eyes glittered, and her voice grew impatient. “You cannot return to Macedon or Kassandros will have you killed. Seleukos has been driven out of Babylonia and the city is under siege by Antigonos, so it is too dangerous for you to return home. Stay here, with Herakles and me. We need you now as much as Roxana and Iskander do. Who can we trust in these uncertain times but each other? Our world, as we knew it -- Persis, Babylonia, Media - have once again fallen. Alexander may have dreamed of uniting our worlds, but his dreams now lie in ashes.”

Nabarzanes weighed his response carefully. In the months that he had been a guest at her villa his sole concern had been to return to Babylon. Now that he was rested and his horse fit to travel again, he had planned to set out for Syria, and from there follow the Royal Road back to Babylon. Now, with the ships of Egypt ranging the coast and the armies of the other Successors mobilizing on land, he knew it was best to remain here in Ephesos. Looking into Barsine’s eyes, he wanted to explain that he must go, but now he knew he could not.

He leaned forward and kissed Barsine softly on the cheek. She suddenly took his face in her hands and pressed her mouth against his. Startled, he was speechless and felt his cheeks grow hot. In spite of his honourable intentions to devote himself to rescuing Roxana and the child, he found his resolve distracted by her unexpected affection.

They sat side by side on the divan. Barsine’s warmth and the sweet fragrance of her rose to him. He felt deep pleasure in her presence though out of his respect for her he had always kept his feelings in check. He took her hand. It felt like ice. He rubbed it gently between his palms. Her fingers curled tightly around his.

“Are you afraid?” he asked.

“These are dangerous times and I fear for my son, just as you fear for yours.”

“Iskander is not my son. He’s Alexander’s,” Nabarzanes interjected.

“Herakles is Alexander’s first-born son.” Barsine’s bitterness showed in her sharp tone.

“You know that Roxana was Alexander’s legal wife,.” he reminded her gently.

“Campaign wife!” Barsine retorted.

“They were married according to the Soghdian rituals. Under the eye of Ahura, they were truly wed.”

“But Alexander was mine...“Her voice quavered. “He would have wed me if...”

‘If he had known about Herakles?”

“Yes, If only I’d had the courage to tell him.”

“You could not have held Alexander that way, Barsine. Nobody owned Alexander. And if you had tried, perhaps you would have ended up murdered like the princesses. You know the Macedonians considered you nothing more than Alexander‘s war prize.”

She trembled against him. “By our sacred oath to Ahura, we Persians cannot Lie and neither can promises be broken. Alexander said he loved me and promised that we would be together. He broke his promise. Now I want what is due my son.”

He tried to embrace her, to comfort her, but she pushed him away.
”You came to Ephesus because you were seeking help for my son’s rival. Now you want to make love to me? Why, Nabarzanes?”

He looked into her face, puzzled. “I seek no favours from you. If I can do nothing more to help Roxana and Iskander-shah, then at least I can see that you and Herakles are safe.” He pulled her close. “I’ve always thought you a most beautiful woman...a woman of great esteem.”

Barsine raised her eyes to his face. Her tone softened. “Yes, and you were a friend to me when I was abandoned by Alexander.”

Nabarzanes took her by the shoulders. “I want to stay with you, Barsine. But I made a vow, and pledged my loyalty to Iskander-shah and I must keep my promise. However, I will stay here with you at least until this tempest is past.”

HARBOUR STREET, EPHESUS