Book: Son of Zeus. Lyubov Voronkova: Son of Zeus Philip's Happy Day

Karl Marx noted that the highest external flowering of Greece coincides with the era of Alexander the Great. More than twenty-three centuries separate us from this era. During this time, the picture of the world has changed many times. States arose and perished, peoples disappeared and were reborn, various forms of exploitation gave way to a society in which the exploitation of man by man has been abolished; the world socialist system was formed.

In this progressive movement of mankind there was not a single historical period, not a single country in the world, where the era of Alexander, the life and work of the famous commander of antiquity and the Eastern epic associated with him were not studied. The explanation for this, obviously, must be sought in the special importance of this era, which had a significant impact on the fate of numerous peoples and states.

The books by L. F. Voronkova "Son of Zeus" and "In the depths of centuries" are devoted to this most significant and most striking era in the history of antiquity. At the center of the whole story is Alexander - the famous commander, politician and statesman (356-323 BC). The writer traces his life from the cradle to the last hour, tingles his indefatigable spirit of quest and thirst for exploits.

The first book - "The Son of Zeus" - with great artistic skill describes the childhood and youth of the Macedonian commander, the conditions in which he was brought up and took his first independent steps in the military and state field. Alexander was the son of King Philip II of Macedonia, an outstanding statesman, commander and diplomat. This bright, colorful figure, which formed the military genius of the future commander, became the protagonist of the work.

Philip II was a very active, purposeful, brave and cruel person. Significant socio-economic changes in Macedonia itself and the most important events in all Greek states were associated with his name. Alexander's homeland at that time was a country torn apart by civil strife. Separate small kingdoms into which it was divided were at enmity with each other. Philip managed to undermine the power of these kings, unite the whole country and become the ruler of all Macedonia. He carried out important reforms in it, which strengthened its economy and authority in international affairs. Through his efforts, a permanent regular army was created, in which the famous Macedonian phalanx of heavy infantry occupied the first place. This army was distinguished by the expedient proportionality of the composition of all branches of the armed forces, different in armament and mode of action. But they all acted harmoniously and harmoniously, obeying a single command. Relying on his army, Philip II not only strengthened the military power of his state, but also directed his policy towards conquest, seizure of land and wealth.

L.F. Voronkova showed well how Macedonia had strengthened by this time, how its powerful army was able in a short time not only to seize neighboring lands, but also to subdue Greece, which had weakened from numerous wars and social struggles. The struggle of the Macedonian king with neighboring states, his cunning interference in the internal affairs of Greece, the action of the anti-Macedonian front under the leadership of the famous orator Demosthenes are shown with great persuasiveness.

The final episode of the book is the image of the first independent steps young Alexander who, after the tragic death of his father, became the king of Macedonia. The reader will learn here about the beginning of his state and military activities.

The book "Son of Zeus" is of great educational value. It not only shows the difficult period of Greek-Macedonian relations on the eve of the Eastern campaigns, which is important and instructive in itself, but expands the reader's horizon with its numerous excursions into Greek nature and mythology, into the history of the Greek liberation struggle against the Persian conquerors, in the field of science, culture and art of ancient Greece.

The chronological continuation of the "Son of Zeus" is another book by the writer Voronkova - "In the depths of centuries", which reveals the whole stormy, contradictory, filled with many important events life of the Macedonian commander.

Particular attention is drawn to the military genius of Alexander, his courage and fearlessness, his desire for "great deeds", as he considered his aggressive campaigns, are emphasized.

Alexander really was a brilliant commander, a military genius. Having studied the experience of his predecessors, he and his associates skillfully organized the army, abandoned outdated military methods of struggle, mastered new tactical skills, skillfully applying it in various situations. Alexander managed to master various tactical methods of battle; for the first time he began to fight not only in summer, but also in winter; introduced the method of actively reaching the enemy and attacking immediately, without rest; preferred quick offensive operations followed by the pursuit of the enemy to the bitter end.

Alexander's military actions are admired for their courage and scope. He himself was brave and courageous, during the battle he fought like a simple soldier, quickly made decisions and also quickly moved to action; He endured hardships and difficulties steadfastly, knew how to raise the spirit of soldiers in the most difficult conditions. He had an iron will and a strong character.

However, his personality was very controversial.

It intertwined the qualities of a talented, strong-willed and courageous commander with cruelty, deceit and immense ambition. Not only his opponents, but even those close and devoted to him suffered from Alexander's treachery. His anger and Irritability led to horrendous crimes: cities were destroyed, palaces perished in flames, old, loyal friends and military leaders perished. His vanity knew no bounds. He was inclined to attribute his failures to the will of the deity and emphasized that he never retreated before people, but only before God.

Alexander was an educated man of his time. He knew literature well, loved Homer's poems, reread them before going to bed, put them under the pillow next to the sword. As the best student of the famous Greek scientist Aristotle, he was versed in philosophy, medicine and other sciences.

However, he remained superstitious and suspicious. The book gives enough examples of this dual nature of Alexander, when his genuine interest in science and culture was combined with his primitive barbaric habits, superstition and ignorance.

Alexander could be at the same time a tender friend, bitterly mourning the death of Hephaestion, and an insidious enemy; a loving son and a ruthless killer; an innovator in the field of martial arts and an oppressor of freedom. Despite his talent and brilliant abilities, in his way of life, in his ideas and goals, in essence he remained the son of his era, a major Macedonian slave owner.

The whole drama of Alexander's complex personality lay in the fact that he devoted his talent, his extraordinary abilities to a cause that was doomed to failure. He dreamed of creating a world state and becoming the ruler of the world. His dream, he said, is to penetrate all countries to the end of the universe, where the sea washes the last shore and where no one can step on his path. But not all warriors supported this dream of world domination. Along with those who blindly believed in the fate of Alexander and followed him, there were those who, in the course of the conquest, mentally began to see clearly and became opponents of further campaigns. In India, this epiphany embraced the entire army - Macedonians and allies. As a result, Alexander was forced to return back, having been defeated by his invincible army.

The commanding staff of the Macedonian army, having begun the eastern campaigns in complete unity, in the course of the conquests was divided into two opposing camps: Alexander's associates and opponents of his eastern policy and his world-power aspirations. The presence of such opposing forces created tension and difficulties in solving not only military, but also political problems, complicating the solution of the tasks that Alexander set for himself.

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1907–1976

L. F. Voronkova and her books

The name of the remarkable Russian writer Lyubov Fedorovna Voronkova is known in many countries of the world - so great is the popularity of her books.

The writer knew the secret of the living word. Because everything in her books lives, breathes, sounds. The voices of birds and animals, forest rustles, the murmur of a stream are heard in them. A firefly flashlight glows with a quiet light. And if you lie low, you can see how the awakened flower spreads its petals. And the people in her works live like in real life - they work, think, feel sad and happy, help each other. Everything is true there.

Where did the living word come from?

First of all, from the village childhood.

Lyubov Fedorovna was born in Moscow in 1906. But later her family moved to a small village near Moscow, and this period of life turned out to be very important for the writer, which influenced the nature of her work. There, in the village, she developed the habit of constant, patient work. The beauty of Russian nature was revealed. And she reached for her pen in order to express her love for the land and working people in poetry and prose.

Already an adult, she returned to Moscow and became a journalist. She traveled a lot around the country and wrote about life in the countryside: this topic was close to her.

In 1940, her first book, Shurka, was published. Then came "The Girl from the City", "Sunny Day", "Geese Swans". These books, which have become classics of children's literature, speak of the main thing: love for the Motherland, respect for work, human kindness and responsiveness. Also, it's about getting over yourself. The man is scared, but he goes to take trouble away from someone. Of course, such a person will grow up strong in spirit and, when necessary, will be capable of a feat.

Each of the characters created by the imagination of the writer was close and dear to her in her own way. And yet, more than others, she loved Valentine from the book "The Girl from the City." She pitied her for her war-deprived childhood.

The story "The Girl from the City" was written during the war years, but still touches the hearts of children and adults, because it tells not only about a great disaster, but also about the great kindness of the people, which helps to endure in difficult times, restores faith in life.

The book "Geese-swans" will not leave anyone indifferent. She is a little sad, but life is not only filled with joys. Sometimes it happens to be sad and grieve, especially when close people do not understand you, besides those with whom you want to be friends. So it was with the village girl Aniska. Her subtle movements of the soul and actions that were unexpected at first glance seemed strange and incomprehensible to those around her, which brought her a lot of grief and made her suffer.

Aniska is a complex, poetic character, and by creating it, the writer seemed to reveal to her reader a secret about a person, that he is not always what he seems, and one must be able to see the best in him, hidden from a superficial glance. And about how rich the inner world of a person is and how beautiful it is! But only a sensitive heart can see and understand this.

Lyubov Fyodorovna had a big, sensitive, sympathetic heart. And her house resembled a magical land where all sorts of miracles happen. Her books were written there. Her friends were there. There she, like a real witch, talked with her flowers, as if those living beings. And early in the morning, the voices of the guests of the balcony woke her up there: sparrows, tits, two conspicuous jackdaws, pigeons. She fed the birds, grumbling good-naturedly at them for their brisk talkativeness.

But flowers and birds - all this was just an introduction to the main miracle: the arrival of the heroes of future books.

They appeared - some quietly, some noisily, in accordance with their character. And she, discarding all earthly worries, sat down at her desk. The most ordinary table, at which it is comfortable to sit with friends, talk heart to heart with them, drink tea. But it will be later. And now began the witchcraft over the manuscript. And so every morning, her bright, inviolable time, devoted to work. And every morning - three pages. Otherwise, do not have time to write everything that is planned. “We have to work, work,” she kept repeating. “There is life and joy in our work.”

Writing for her was the highest joy.

In recent years, Lyubov Fedorovna wrote historical stories and novels. For her herself, such a seemingly abrupt transition from today's day into the depths of centuries was not accidental. She has long been attracted by stories ancient history, ancient writers became favorite reading: Plutarch, Pausanias, Thucydides, Herodotus. In the chosen genre, the words of the “father of history” Herodotus served as a kind of parting word to her, who wrote his works, “... so that from time to time the deeds of people would not be erased from the memory and great and surprisingly worthy deeds would not be ingloriously forgotten ...”

For a very long time, Lyubov Fedorovna did not dare to take up her first historical book. What she wrote about before was her native element: everything is familiar, everything is close and understandable, everything could be looked at with your own eyes. And how to see what has already passed, sunk irrevocably into eternity? There is no such train that would bring in the past, where the people lived, about whom she wanted to tell in the planned book.

She stood as if in front of a closed door leading to unfamiliar worlds. It was necessary to diligently prepare for a meeting with them. And she got ready. She studied the mountains of historical materials, completely immersed herself in the era she was going to write about.

That's when the mysterious door opened, and the writer found herself in the 6th century BC, when the Persian king Cyrus lived. About him was her first historical tale. Then she looked into even earlier centuries, when the Messenian wars were going on.

If in the story “Trace of the Fiery Life” the center of attention is King Cyrus, his unusual fate, then in the “Messenian Wars” the main character is a whole people from the small country of Messenia, who courageously fought for freedom and independence. Forced to leave their country, wandering for three hundred years in foreign lands, this people did not forget either their language or the customs of their homeland. And we, despite the remoteness of the era, are close to the thoughts and deeds of the Messenians, who glorified themselves through the ages with their heroic struggle for freedom and their devoted love for their homeland.

In history, L. F. Voronkova was attracted by strong and unusual characters that influenced the course historical events. Therefore, she turned to the image of Alexander the Great (356-323 BC). So her two books appeared: “Son of Zeus” - about the childhood and youth of the Macedonian king and “In the depths of centuries” - about his conquests and the creation of a state that included the lands of Europe and Asia.

Before starting to create a novel about Alexander the Great, she read many books about him and the era in which he lived, studied the serious scientific works, and when the time came to write a chapter about his campaigns in Central Asia, she went to those parts to find additional material for her book.

She visited Samarkand, or Marakanda, as this city was called during the time of Alexander the Great, through which the famous commander passed with his troops in 329 BC and severely destroyed it. She was in Bukhara and in its environs, which were once part of the country known under the name of Sogdiana. There, the Sogdians, led by Spitamen, offered desperate resistance to Alexander the Great - touching pages are devoted to this event in the book “In the depths of centuries”.

She wandered through the narrow streets of the ancient cities of Uzbekistan, peering into the faces of people, and admired their beauty, proud posture, seeing in each of them the descendants of those Sogds who were headed by Spitamen.

Thoughtfully, with interest, she entered the previously unfamiliar world of the East and looked at everything through the eyes of an artist. She memorized the color of the sky and the color of the desert at different times of the year, looked at the mountains for a long time in the evening dawn and at dawn, admired the flowering gardens and the bright, indescribable colors of autumn. After all, as in the time of Alexander the Great, here the sun was just as sultry, the winds blew just as dryly, the hot sands did not change their color, the mountain peaks were still covered with eternal snow, and the sky did not lose its brightest blue.

There were so many impressions from acquaintance with Central Asia and they turned out to be so strong that the writer could not move away from them. She wanted to tell about her beloved land, and a small book “Garden under the Clouds” appeared - about the life of Uzbek children. Later, she wrote the book Furious Hamza, a fictional biography of the famous Uzbek writer and revolutionary. I was going to write about the famous astronomer Ulugbek, but did not have time. In 1976, the writer died.

The last book published during the life of Lyubov Fedorovna Voronkova is The Hero of Salamis. Fascinating plot, swiftness of action, subtle psychologism, sense of time, nature, pure, transparent language. Here everything is proportionate, everything is built solidly.

Already from the first pages of the story, we enter the turbulent, full of worries and anxieties, the life of the Athenian state. At the meeting of citizens of the country, the most important issues of their lives are decided.

Innumerable hordes of the Persian king Xerxes moved to Hellas. He would undoubtedly have succeeded in conquering both Athens and Sparta - after all, almost all the Hellenic city-states submitted to him - if not for Themistocles.

Themistocles managed to raise his compatriots to fight against the enemy, instill in their hearts faith in victory - and victory came.

With great skill, Lyubov Fedorovna Voronkova describes the events of those years and the heroes acting in the story, with their unexpected twists of fate. Everyone is remembered here. But the portrait of the protagonist, Themistocles, is especially convincing and psychologically authentic. Times change, years go by, and he becomes different. Only in one thing Themistocles remains unchanged: in his love for his homeland.

The book "The Hero of Salamis" is evidence of how over the years, with greater depth, with some new facets, the writer's talent in the most difficult genre, the genre of the historical novel, was revealed.

The events of ancient times are shown in historical works Lyubov Fedorovna Voronkova. But they worry us. And they will always worry. Because it is the past of humanity. And comprehension of the Past helps to understand the Present. For the sake of the future.

Valentina Putilina

Son of Zeus

Where did the line of Macedonian kings begin?


Once, in ancient times, three brothers left for Illyria from Argos, the middle state of Hellas. Wandering through the wooded mountain country, they moved from Illyria to Macedonia. Here the brothers found shelter: they were hired as shepherds to the king. The elder brother grazed the herds of royal horses. Middle - herds of cows and bulls. And the younger one drove small livestock - goats and sheep - into the mountains to pasture.

The pastures in the mountains and valleys were free, but it was necessary to go far from home. Therefore, the king's wife gave the shepherds bread for the whole day, equally for everyone. The queen herself baked bread, and each slice was in her account.

Everything seemed to be going well and calmly. However, for some reason, the queen began to think. And one day she said to the king:

- Not for the first time I notice this: I give the shepherds bread equally. But each time, the younger bread turns out to be twice as much as the brothers. What would that mean?

The king was surprised and alarmed.

“It's a miracle,” he said. No matter how badly it turns out for us.

And then he sent for the shepherds. The shepherds came, all three.

“Pack up and leave,” the king ordered, “and leave my country forever.

The brothers looked at each other: why are they being persecuted?

"Good," replied the older brother. - We'll leave. But we'll leave after we get the pay we've earned.

- Here's your pay, take it! - mockingly shouted the king and pointed to a bright solar circle lying on the floor.

The sun at that time was high, and its rays poured into the house through a round hole in the roof, where the smoke from the hearth escaped.

The older brothers stood in silence, not knowing what to say to that.

But the younger one answered the king:

- We accept, king, your payment! He took out a long knife from his belt and with its point outlined a solar circle that lay on the floor, as if cutting it out. Then he scooped up a handful of sunlight like water and poured it on his chest. So he did three times - he scooped up the sun and poured it on his chest.

This done, he turned and left the house. The brothers silently followed him.

The king remained perplexed.

Even more alarmed, he called his relatives and close associates and told about what had happened.

– What does it all mean?

Then one of the close ones explained to the king:

The younger one understood. What You gave them, therefore you accepted it so willingly, because you gave them the sun of Macedonia, and with the sun - Macedonia!

The king, hearing this, jumped up.

- On the horses! Catch them up! he shouted in rage. - Chase and kill!

The brothers from Argos, meanwhile, came to a large deep river. Hearing the chase, they rushed into the river and swam across it. And as soon as they reached the other side, they saw horsemen chasing them. The riders galloped without sparing the horses. Now they will be at the river, swim across it, and the poor shepherds will not be saved!

The older brothers trembled. The younger one was calm. He stood on the shore and gazed intently at the quiet, slowly moving water.

But now the chase is already at the river. The riders shout something, threaten the brothers and drive the horses into the river. But the river suddenly began to seethe, swell, and raise menacing waves. The horses rested and did not go into the seething water. The chase remained on the other side.

And the three brothers marched on through the Macedonian valleys. They climbed mountains, descended through passes. And finally we found ourselves in a beautiful garden where extraordinary roses bloomed: each flower had sixty petals and their fragrance spread far over the surroundings.

Next to this garden rose the harsh cold mountain of Bermia. The brothers from Argos took possession of this impregnable mountain, settled on it, built a fortress. From here they began to make military raids on the Macedonian villages, captured them. From these villages they recruited detachments of warriors; their army grew. They began to conquer the nearest Macedonian valleys. Then they conquered all of Macedonia. It was from them that the family of Macedonian kings went.

There is another legend about the origin of the royal family.

Once the Hellenic state of Argos was ruled by King Feidon. He had a brother Karan. Karan also wanted to become a king, and he decided to win a kingdom for himself.

But before setting off with the army, Karan went to Delphi - the sanctuary of the god Apollo - to ask the deity for advice. The oracle told Karan to go north. And there, having met a herd of goats, follow him. Karan gathered an army and went north. The paths indicated by the oracle led him to Macedonia.

In one of the valleys Karan saw a herd of goats. The goats were quietly grazing on the green slopes, and Karan stopped the army. We must follow the goats, but where? To pasture?

Suddenly it started raining. The goats rushed to run, Karan hurried after them. And so, following the goats that were fleeing the downpour, the newcomers from Argos entered the city of Edess. Due to the rain and fog that tightly covered the dwellings, the inhabitants did not see how foreigners entered their city and captured it.

In memory of the goats that brought Karan, he gave the city a new name - Egi, which means "goat". Karan seized the kingdom, and the city of Egi became the capital of the Macedonian kings. This city stood where the plateau descends into the flourishing Emathian plain and the turbulent rivers running from the mountains sparkle with noisy waterfalls.

Legends have lived since ancient times, passed from mouth to mouth, asserted, became authentic. On the banner of the Macedonian army was the image of a goat. And the Macedonian kings often decorated their helmets with goat horns.

And the main thing that was kept and persistently affirmed in these legends was that the Macedonian kings came from Argos, from Hellas, that they were Hellenes, Hellenes, and not barbarians; barbarians in the eyes of the Hellenes were all the peoples of the world, except for those born in Hellas.

We are from Argos. We are from the genus of Hercules. We are Hellenes!

However, Hellas stood in front of Macedonia, in front of this small, no one famous country like a majestic, indestructible fortress. She was strong in land forces, in her harbors were numerous long ships - the navy. And round, merchant, fearlessly went into the sparkling expanses of the Middle Sea ...

The Macedonian kings actively strengthened their state, their cities. Every now and then they fought with neighboring tribes, capturing a piece of their land.

But with Hellas they tried to maintain an alliance and friendship. It was dangerous to touch her. The Hellenes captured the entire coast, cutting off Macedonia's path to the sea, and hence to trade. The Hellenic colonies approached the very edge of the Macedonian land ... And yet - union and friendship!

While Macedonia is weak. For the present, there is no strength to stand before Hellas with a weapon in hand. While Macedonia is fragmented and does not have a strong army ...

So two hundred years passed until the day when the youngest son of King Aminta, Philip of Macedon, came to power, who brought many troubles to the Hellenic cities.

Happy Philip's Day

Philip, king of Macedonia, had just conquered Potidaea, a colony of Corinthians who settled in Macedonian Chalkidike.

In armor and helmets, sparkling under the sun, with swords and spears, the Macedonian army was returning from the battlefield. Strong horses, fattened in the rich meadows of Macedonia and Thessaly, still sweating after the battle, stepped steadily and firmly, as if not feeling the weight of the horsemen dressed in iron.

The army spread throughout the peninsula. Fires were still smoking in the plundered city.

Philip, cheerful, tired, covered in dirt and in the blood of battle, dismounted from his horse.

Let's celebrate the victory! he immediately shouted, throwing the reins to the groom. - Prepare a feast!

But the servants and slaves knew what to do even without his orders. In the large, cool royal tent, everything was already ready for the feast. Gold bowls shone on the tables; finely carved craters were full of grape wine, the smell of fried meat, seasoned with silphium - a fragrant spicy herb ...

Throwing off his armor, Philip breathed a sigh of relief. He took Potidaea. Now this city, always hostile, will not stand in the way of Macedonian trade with Athens. True, Potidea was a member of the Athenian union and Athens is unlikely to like Philip's actions.

But the Pangaean region, which he captured with Potidea, and Mount Pangaea, full of gold, are worth enduring an unpleasant conversation with the Athenian democrats who are now in power.

An unpleasant conversation ... And why was Philip given eloquence, charm, the ability to flatter and win hearts ?! He will tell Athens everything they want to hear, he will say everything that they will be pleased to hear - he is their friend, faithful ally, he is devoted to them until the end of his life! .. He does not feel sorry for words!

Therefore, pour more cups - let's celebrate the victory!

Fun at the king's table - noise, conversation, laughter ... His friends gathered in a huge royal tent: generals, military leaders, his eters - bodyguards, noble Macedonians, who always fight shoulder to shoulder next to him in a bloody slaughter.

Closest to Philip sits his commander Ptolemy, the son of Lag, a handsome man with an aquiline profile - a nose with a slight hump, a bulging chin, a predatory and imperious face.

Here is the commander Ferdikka, unstoppable in battle, selfless at the feast, one of the closest advisers to the king. Next to him is Meleager, the commander of the phalanx, broad-shouldered, clumsy at the table, but dexterous on the battlefield.

Here is the commander Attalus, one of the most noble people of Macedonia. Already very tipsy, with eyes as black as olives, he climbed to everyone with a cheeky conversation and every now and then reminded them that they were sitting and feasting, and the commander Parmenion was now fighting in Illyria. But Parmenion is his father-in-law! And he, his father-in-law, the commander Parmenion, is now fighting, and they are sitting here!

And somewhere far away, among the rest, less noble eters of the king, sat, without touching the cup, the stern Antipater from the family of Iolla, the closest person to the king, an imperious and experienced commander, who more than once proved to Philip his unshakable loyalty and devotion. One of the first in battle, he was the last at the feast - Antipater did not like drunken and rude fun.

Philip often repeated, laughing:

- I can drink as much as I want - Antipas will not get drunk (as he affectionately called Antipatpa). I can sleep soundly - Antipas will not fall asleep!

And more than once Philip was seen furtively throwing dice under a chair when Antipater appeared.

The king sat at the head of the table - tall, handsome, with a large bowl in his hands, in which wine shone, crafty, treacherous, like the sparkling eye of the god Dionysus, who grew the vine.

In the midst of feasting, speeches, and cheers, a messenger entered the tent. He was exhausted from the long ride, blackened with dust. But his teeth flashed in a smile.

- Victory, king! Victory! he shouted, raising his hand.

Everyone immediately fell silent.

- Where are you from? Philip asked.

- From Olympia, king!

- What?! Philip jumped up, almost knocking over the table. – Speak!

- Victory! he croaked, still smiling happily. Your horses have won the competition.

- My horses! In Olympia!

Philip, without restraint, shouted and laughed with joy, banging his fist on the table.

My horses have won! Aha! The horses of the Macedonian king won at Olympia against the Hellenes! - He handed the herald a heavy precious cup: - Drink. And take a cup. That's how! Have you heard? - jubilant, with shining eyes, he repeated, addressing his guests. - You heard? The Greeks at Olympia were defeated by the horses of the Macedonian king, barbarian! ..

The last word he uttered with bitterness, in which there was also a threat. Philip suddenly became thoughtful and gloomy. The cries of victory that had risen in the tent subsided.

– Do you remember how they said it once, in those ancient times, to my great-grandfather, the Macedonian king Alexander? Philip's face became heavy, and his eyes filled with anger. Maybe you don't remember, maybe you don't know? Alexander then came to Olympia, he wanted to, like any Hellene - and we are Hellenes from Argos, descendants of Hercules, as you know! So, he wanted to enter the competition. And what a fuss they made there! "Remove the Macedonian from Olympia! Remove barbarian! Barbarians have no right to participate in Hellenic festivities! But Tsar Alexander did not give up. He managed to prove to them that we Macedonians descended from the kings of Argos, from Hercules himself. And then the great Pindar himself glorified his Olympic victories. And now, - Philip laughed, - now we are not only participating, but also winning. I order in memory of this victory to knock out horses and a chariot on my coins - let them not forget that we know how to win!

The merriment raged again in the tent. But not for long. Philip, upset by the memories, thought.

- How much did the Macedonian kings work to strengthen and glorify Macedonia! My father Amyntas fought hard wars with the Illyrians and the Olynthians all his life, defending our independence. And my older brother, Tsar Alexander? True, he acted more by persuasion, by gold. He paid off the Illyrians. He was ready for anything, if only the enemies would give our country the opportunity to gather strength. That's why I was handed over to them as hostages.

Perhaps you will say that my older brother, Tsar Alexander, did not love me and did not feel sorry for me? “Yes,” you say, “he didn’t feel sorry for you. He gave you, a very small child, his youngest brother, as a hostage.” Yes, I gave. But he did this to protect Macedonia from enemies who were stronger than him. My older brother was a wise ruler. Who moved the Macedonian capital from Aigus to Pella? Tsar Alexander. Because it's safer here. And in Egi we will bury our kings. My older brother Alexander is already resting there. And they will take me to Aegy when I die. And my sons who will be kings after me. You know the prediction: as long as the Macedonian kings are buried in Egi, their lineage will not end.

“King,” one of the commanders called out to him, “why talk about death at a feast?

- No no! - Philip threw thick blond curls from his forehead. “I'm talking about my older brother, Tsar Alexander. After all, when he began to reign, enemies threatened him from all sides. Illyria threatened him terribly. And he didn't have the strength to defend himself. What was he to do? Conclude a treaty of friendship, pay off. That's when he handed me over to the Illyrians as a hostage. But he paid the ransom and brought me home. And your fathers, the rich rulers of Upper Macedonia, did not want to help him!

Indistinct noise, indistinct protesting speeches were heard in response. Philip did not understand them and did not hear them.

- You will say that my older brother, Tsar Alexander, gave me a second time as a hostage? Yes, I gave it to the Thebes. And what was he to do? After all, he needed to establish and strengthen friendship with Thebes, because the Theban leader Epaminondas, the most glorious, invincible commander, he needed a friend, not an enemy. For three whole years I lived in Thebes, in the house of the great man Epaminondas. There I became a real Hellenic, there I understood what Hellas is, how high its culture is, how great its poets, philosophers, sculptors ... I was brought up there, I was given an education. And most importantly, I was taught to fight. Let's drink to the great commander and philosopher, to the stern and noble man Epaminondas!

The wine sparkled again in the cups, the voices rustled again, and the merriment that had been extinguished revived the feast again. And no one heard the clatter of the horse's hooves in front of the tent. And they did not immediately see how a new messenger appeared in the tent.

Good news to you, king!

- Where are you from? Philip asked. What news do you bring me?

The messenger barely took a breath:

- I'm from Illyria...

Philip immediately sobered up.

– What is there? How is my Parmenion?...

“General Parmenion is alive and well. And congratulations on your victory.

- With a win? Defeated the Illyrians?

The Illyrians have left the battlefield. There was a big fight. Many troops lay down. But we defeated the enemy. Parmenion bows to you.

– My friend Parmenion! Thank you. Do you hear? The Illyrians are defeated. So many victories at once: Potidea is taken, my horses won at Olympia. And now - the Illyrians are defeated! .. Give the messenger wine, reward him! Let's celebrate this victory!

But the extraordinary news did not end there. A third messenger rushed in, also tired, and also joyful.

“I am from Pella, king!” From your home. Queen Olympias told me to tell you that your son was born.

- Son! - shouted Philip and with a clang he brought down the bowl on the table. - You hear? Son! I have a son! Philip's eyes sparkled with happy tears. Do you hear, Macedonians? Philip stood up and looked around at his entourage. – Your future tsar was born… What else was ordered to convey to me?

“It was also ordered to convey that two eagles sat on the roof of your house all day today.

- Two eagles. This is a good omen. I will name my son after my older brother - Alexander. The future king of Macedonia, Alexander, was born. On horses! To Pella!

The hooves of heavy horses rumbled along the rocky mountain roads. Horsemen, already without helmets and armor, rushed to Pella, the new capital - the fortress of the Macedonian kings, which stood on the Ludia River, on a wide plain surrounded by mountains.

At Pella, the soothsayers announced to Philip:

“Your son, whose birth coincided with three victories, will be invincible.

All this happened in the summer, on the sixth day of the month of Hecatombeon in Hellenic, and in Macedonian - Loya, three hundred and fifty-sixth year BC.

Lyubov Voronkova

Son of Zeus. In the depths of centuries

Son of Zeus

ALEXANDER THE MACEDONIAN AND HIS AGE

Karl Marx noted that the highest external flowering of Greece coincides with the era of Alexander the Great. More than twenty-three centuries separate us from this era. During this time, the picture of the world has changed many times. States arose and perished, peoples disappeared and were reborn, various forms of exploitation gave way to a society in which the exploitation of man by man has been abolished; the world socialist system was formed.

In this progressive movement of mankind there was not a single historical period, not a single country in the world, where the era of Alexander, the life and work of the famous commander of antiquity and the Eastern epic associated with him were not studied. The explanation for this, obviously, must be sought in the special importance of this era, which had a significant impact on the fate of numerous peoples and states.

The books by L. F. Voronkova "Son of Zeus" and "In the depths of centuries" are devoted to this most significant and most striking era in the history of antiquity. At the center of the whole story is Alexander - the famous commander, politician and statesman (356-323 BC). The writer traces his life from the cradle to the last hour, tingles his indefatigable spirit of quest and thirst for exploits.

The first book - "The Son of Zeus" - with great artistic skill describes the childhood and youth of the Macedonian commander, the conditions in which he was brought up and took his first independent steps in the military and state field. Alexander was the son of King Philip II of Macedonia, an outstanding statesman, commander and diplomat. This bright, colorful figure, which formed the military genius of the future commander, became the protagonist of the work.

Philip II was a very active, purposeful, brave and cruel person. Significant socio-economic changes in Macedonia itself and the most important events in all Greek states were associated with his name. Alexander's homeland at that time was a country torn apart by civil strife. Separate small kingdoms into which it was divided were at enmity with each other. Philip managed to undermine the power of these kings, unite the whole country and become the ruler of all Macedonia. He carried out important reforms in it, which strengthened its economy and authority in international affairs. Through his efforts, a permanent regular army was created, in which the famous Macedonian phalanx of heavy infantry occupied the first place. This army was distinguished by the expedient proportionality of the composition of all branches of the armed forces, different in armament and mode of action. But they all acted harmoniously and harmoniously, obeying a single command. Relying on his army, Philip II not only strengthened the military power of his state, but also directed his policy towards conquest, seizure of land and wealth.

L.F. Voronkova showed well how Macedonia had strengthened by this time, how its powerful army was able in a short time not only to seize neighboring lands, but also to subdue Greece, which had weakened from numerous wars and social struggles. The struggle of the Macedonian king with neighboring states, his cunning interference in the internal affairs of Greece, the action of the anti-Macedonian front under the leadership of the famous orator Demosthenes are shown with great persuasiveness.

The final episode of the book is the depiction of the first independent steps of the young Alexander, who, after the tragic death of his father, became the king of Macedonia. The reader will learn here about the beginning of his state and military activities.

The book "Son of Zeus" is of great educational value. It not only shows the difficult period of Greek-Macedonian relations on the eve of the Eastern campaigns, which is important and instructive in itself, but expands the reader's horizon with its numerous excursions into Greek nature and mythology, into the history of the Greek liberation struggle against the Persian conquerors, in the field of science, culture and art of ancient Greece.

The chronological continuation of the "Son of Zeus" is another book by the writer Voronkova - "In the depths of centuries", which reveals the whole stormy, contradictory, filled with many important events life of the Macedonian commander.

Particular attention is drawn to the military genius of Alexander, his courage and fearlessness, his desire for "great deeds", as he considered his aggressive campaigns, are emphasized.

Alexander really was a brilliant commander, a military genius. Having studied the experience of his predecessors, he and his associates skillfully organized the army, abandoned outdated military methods of struggle, mastered new tactical skills, skillfully applying it in various situations. Alexander managed to master various tactical methods of battle; for the first time he began to fight not only in summer, but also in winter; introduced the method of actively reaching the enemy and attacking immediately, without rest; preferred quick offensive operations followed by the pursuit of the enemy to the bitter end.

Alexander's military actions are admired for their courage and scope. He himself was brave and courageous, during the battle he fought like a simple soldier, quickly made decisions and also quickly moved to action; He endured hardships and difficulties steadfastly, knew how to raise the spirit of soldiers in the most difficult conditions. He had an iron will and a strong character.

However, his personality was very controversial.

It intertwined the qualities of a talented, strong-willed and courageous commander with cruelty, deceit and immense ambition. Not only his opponents, but even those close and devoted to him suffered from Alexander's treachery. His anger and Irritability led to horrendous crimes: cities were destroyed, palaces perished in flames, old, loyal friends and military leaders perished. His vanity knew no bounds. He was inclined to attribute his failures to the will of the deity and emphasized that he never retreated before people, but only before God.

Alexander was an educated man of his time. He knew literature well, loved Homer's poems, reread them before going to bed, put them under the pillow next to the sword. As the best student of the famous Greek scientist Aristotle, he was versed in philosophy, medicine and other sciences.

However, he remained superstitious and suspicious. The book gives enough examples of this dual nature of Alexander, when his genuine interest in science and culture was combined with his primitive barbaric habits, superstition and ignorance.

Alexander could be at the same time a tender friend, bitterly mourning the death of Hephaestion, and an insidious enemy; a loving son and a ruthless killer; an innovator in the field of martial arts and an oppressor of freedom. Despite his talent and brilliant abilities, in his way of life, in his ideas and goals, in essence he remained the son of his era, a major Macedonian slave owner.

The whole drama of Alexander's complex personality lay in the fact that he devoted his talent, his extraordinary abilities to a cause that was doomed to failure. He dreamed of creating a world state and becoming the ruler of the world. His dream, he said, is to penetrate all countries to the end of the universe, where the sea washes the last shore and where no one can step on his path. But not all warriors supported this dream of world domination. Along with those who blindly believed in the fate of Alexander and followed him, there were those who, in the course of the conquest, mentally began to see clearly and became opponents of further campaigns. In India, this epiphany embraced the entire army - Macedonians and allies. As a result, Alexander was forced to return back, having been defeated by his invincible army.

The commanding staff of the Macedonian army, having begun the eastern campaigns in complete unity, in the course of the conquests was divided into two opposing camps: Alexander's associates and opponents of his eastern policy and his world-power aspirations. The presence of such opposing forces created tension and difficulties in solving not only military, but also political problems, complicating the solution of the tasks that Alexander set for himself.

L.F. Voronkova especially succeeded in the images of Alexander’s associates (Hephaestion), as well as his opponents (Parmenion and his son Clitus, the historian Callisthenes, a group of young warriors, the so-called “pages”, Antipater and his sons).

The author convincingly showed that the path of the Macedonian commander to the East was by no means littered with roses. That his conquests were opposed not only by his representatives immediate environment, but also his army as a whole, as well as the peoples of the Balkan Peninsula, the Near and Middle East, Central Asia and India. The mass anti-Macedonian uprising on the territory of modern Uzbekistan, Tajikistan and Turkmenistan is given much attention in the book. Thus, several chapters are devoted to the liberation struggle under the leadership of the talented and experienced commander Spitamen.

The novel "The Son of Zeus" by the famous children's writer Lyubov Voronkova describes the childhood and youth of the famous commander of Antiquity, politician and statesman Alexander the Great (356-323 BC), the conditions in which he grew up and was brought up, his first independent steps in the military and state fields. For middle school age.

A series: School Library (Children's Literature)

* * *

by the LitRes company.

Son of Zeus

Where did the line of Macedonian kings begin?


Once, in ancient times, three brothers left for Illyria from Argos, the middle state of Hellas. Wandering through a wooded mountainous country, they moved from Illyria to Macedonia. Here the brothers found shelter: they were hired as shepherds to the king. The elder brother grazed the herds of royal horses. Middle - herds of cows and bulls. And the younger one drove small livestock - goats and sheep - into the mountains to pasture.

The pastures in the mountains and valleys were free, but it was necessary to go far from home. Therefore, the king's wife gave the shepherds bread for the whole day, equally for everyone. The queen herself baked bread, and each slice was in her account.

Everything seemed to be going well and calmly. However, for some reason, the queen began to think. And one day she said to the king:

- Not for the first time I notice this: I give the shepherds bread equally. But each time, the younger bread turns out to be twice as much as the brothers. What would that mean?

The king was surprised and alarmed.

“It's a miracle,” he said. No matter how badly it turns out for us.

And then he sent for the shepherds. The shepherds came, all three.

“Pack up and leave,” the king ordered, “and leave my country forever.

The brothers looked at each other: why are they being persecuted?

"Good," replied the older brother. - We'll leave. But we'll leave after we get the pay we've earned.

- Here's your pay, take it! - mockingly shouted the king and pointed to a bright solar circle lying on the floor.

The sun at that time was high, and its rays poured into the house through a round hole in the roof, where the smoke from the hearth escaped.

The older brothers stood in silence, not knowing what to say to that.

But the younger one answered the king:

- We accept, king, your payment! He took out a long knife from his belt and with its point outlined a solar circle that lay on the floor, as if cutting it out. Then he scooped up a handful of sunlight like water and poured it on his chest. So he did three times - he scooped up the sun and poured it on his chest.

This done, he turned and left the house. The brothers silently followed him.

The king remained perplexed.

Even more alarmed, he called his relatives and close associates and told about what had happened.

– What does it all mean?

Then one of the close ones explained to the king:

The younger one understood. What You gave them, therefore you accepted it so willingly, because you gave them the sun of Macedonia, and with the sun - Macedonia!

The king, hearing this, jumped up.

- On the horses! Catch them up! he shouted in rage. - Chase and kill!

The brothers from Argos, meanwhile, came to a large deep river. Hearing the chase, they rushed into the river and swam across it. And as soon as they reached the other side, they saw horsemen chasing them. The riders galloped without sparing the horses. Now they will be at the river, swim across it, and the poor shepherds will not be saved!

The older brothers trembled. The younger one was calm. He stood on the shore and gazed intently at the quiet, slowly moving water.

But now the chase is already at the river. The riders shout something, threaten the brothers and drive the horses into the river. But the river suddenly began to seethe, swell, and raise menacing waves. The horses rested and did not go into the seething water. The chase remained on the other side.

And the three brothers marched on through the Macedonian valleys. They climbed mountains, descended through passes. And finally we found ourselves in a beautiful garden where extraordinary roses bloomed: each flower had sixty petals and their fragrance spread far over the surroundings.

Next to this garden rose the harsh cold mountain of Bermia. The brothers from Argos took possession of this impregnable mountain, settled on it, built a fortress. From here they began to make military raids on the Macedonian villages, captured them. From these villages they recruited detachments of warriors; their army grew. They began to conquer the nearest Macedonian valleys. Then they conquered all of Macedonia. It was from them that the family of Macedonian kings went.

There is another legend about the origin of the royal family.

Once the Hellenic state of Argos was ruled by King Feidon. He had a brother Karan. Karan also wanted to become a king, and he decided to win a kingdom for himself.

But before setting off with the army, Karan went to Delphi - the sanctuary of the god Apollo - to ask the deity for advice. The oracle told Karan to go north. And there, having met a herd of goats, follow him. Karan gathered an army and went north. The paths indicated by the oracle led him to Macedonia.

In one of the valleys Karan saw a herd of goats. The goats were quietly grazing on the green slopes, and Karan stopped the army. We must follow the goats, but where? To pasture?

Suddenly it started raining. The goats rushed to run, Karan hurried after them. And so, following the goats that were fleeing the downpour, the newcomers from Argos entered the city of Edess. Due to the rain and fog that tightly covered the dwellings, the inhabitants did not see how foreigners entered their city and captured it.

In memory of the goats that brought Karan, he gave the city a new name - Egi, which means "goat". Karan seized the kingdom, and the city of Egi became the capital of the Macedonian kings. This city stood where the plateau descends into the flourishing Emathian plain and the turbulent rivers running from the mountains sparkle with noisy waterfalls.

Legends have lived since ancient times, passed from mouth to mouth, asserted, became authentic. On the banner of the Macedonian army was the image of a goat. And the Macedonian kings often decorated their helmets with goat horns.

And the main thing that was kept and persistently affirmed in these legends was that the Macedonian kings came from Argos, from Hellas, that they were Hellenes, Hellenes, and not barbarians; barbarians in the eyes of the Hellenes were all the peoples of the world, except for those born in Hellas.

We are from Argos. We are from the genus of Hercules. We are Hellenes!

However, Hellas stood in front of Macedonia, in front of this small, unknown country, like a majestic, invincible fortress. She was strong in land forces, in her harbors were numerous long ships - the navy. And round, merchant, fearlessly went into the sparkling expanses of the Middle Sea ...

The Macedonian kings actively strengthened their state, their cities. Every now and then they fought with neighboring tribes, capturing a piece of their land.

But with Hellas they tried to maintain an alliance and friendship. It was dangerous to touch her. The Hellenes captured the entire coast, cutting off Macedonia's path to the sea, and hence to trade. The Hellenic colonies approached the very edge of the Macedonian land ... And yet - union and friendship!

While Macedonia is weak. For the present, there is no strength to stand before Hellas with a weapon in hand. While Macedonia is fragmented and does not have a strong army ...

So two hundred years passed until the day when the youngest son of King Aminta, Philip of Macedon, came to power, who brought many troubles to the Hellenic cities.

Happy Philip's Day

Philip, king of Macedonia, had just conquered Potidaea, a colony of Corinthians who settled in Macedonian Chalkidike.

In armor and helmets, sparkling under the sun, with swords and spears, the Macedonian army was returning from the battlefield. Strong horses, fattened in the rich meadows of Macedonia and Thessaly, still sweating after the battle, stepped steadily and firmly, as if not feeling the weight of the horsemen dressed in iron.

The army spread throughout the peninsula. Fires were still smoking in the plundered city.

Philip, cheerful, tired, covered in dirt and in the blood of battle, dismounted from his horse.

Let's celebrate the victory! he immediately shouted, throwing the reins to the groom. - Prepare a feast!

But the servants and slaves knew what to do even without his orders. In the large, cool royal tent, everything was already ready for the feast. Gold bowls shone on the tables; finely carved craters were full of grape wine, from under the lids of huge dishes oozed the smell of fried meat seasoned with silphium - a fragrant spicy herb ...

Throwing off his armor, Philip breathed a sigh of relief. He took Potidaea. Now this city, always hostile, will not stand in the way of Macedonian trade with Athens. True, Potidea was a member of the Athenian union and Athens is unlikely to like Philip's actions.

But the Pangaean region, which he captured with Potidea, and Mount Pangaea, full of gold, are worth enduring an unpleasant conversation with the Athenian democrats who are now in power.

An unpleasant conversation ... And why was Philip given eloquence, charm, the ability to flatter and win hearts ?! He will tell Athens everything they want to hear, he will say everything that they will be pleased to hear - he is their friend, faithful ally, he is devoted to them until the end of his life! .. He does not feel sorry for words!

Therefore, pour more cups - let's celebrate the victory!

Fun at the king's table - noise, conversation, laughter ... His friends gathered in a huge royal tent: generals, military leaders, his eters - bodyguards, noble Macedonians, who always fight shoulder to shoulder next to him in a bloody slaughter.

Closest to Philip sits his commander Ptolemy, the son of Lag, a handsome man with an aquiline profile - a nose with a slight hump, a bulging chin, a predatory and imperious face.

Here is the commander Ferdikka, unstoppable in battle, selfless at the feast, one of the closest advisers to the king. Next to him is Meleager, the commander of the phalanx, broad-shouldered, clumsy at the table, but dexterous on the battlefield.

Here is the commander Attalus, one of the most noble people of Macedonia. Already very tipsy, with eyes as black as olives, he climbed to everyone with a cheeky conversation and every now and then reminded them that they were sitting and feasting, and the commander Parmenion was now fighting in Illyria. But Parmenion is his father-in-law! And he, his father-in-law, the commander Parmenion, is now fighting, and they are sitting here!

And somewhere far away, among the rest, less noble eters of the king, sat, without touching the cup, the stern Antipater from the family of Iolla, the closest person to the king, an imperious and experienced commander, who more than once proved to Philip his unshakable loyalty and devotion. One of the first in battle, he was the last at the feast - Antipater did not like drunken and rude fun.

Philip often repeated, laughing:

- I can drink as much as I want - Antipas will not get drunk (as he affectionately called Antipatpa). I can sleep soundly - Antipas will not fall asleep!

And more than once Philip was seen furtively throwing dice under a chair when Antipater appeared.

The king sat at the head of the table - tall, handsome, with a large bowl in his hands, in which wine shone, crafty, treacherous, like the sparkling eye of the god Dionysus, who grew the vine.

In the midst of feasting, speeches, and cheers, a messenger entered the tent. He was exhausted from the long ride, blackened with dust. But his teeth flashed in a smile.

- Victory, king! Victory! he shouted, raising his hand.

Everyone immediately fell silent.

- Where are you from? Philip asked.

- From Olympia, king!

- What?! Philip jumped up, almost knocking over the table. – Speak!

- Victory! he croaked, still smiling happily. Your horses have won the competition.

- My horses! In Olympia!

Philip, without restraint, shouted and laughed with joy, banging his fist on the table.

My horses have won! Aha! The horses of the Macedonian king won at Olympia against the Hellenes! - He handed the herald a heavy precious cup: - Drink. And take a cup. That's how! Have you heard? - jubilant, with shining eyes, he repeated, addressing his guests. - You heard? The Greeks at Olympia were defeated by the horses of the Macedonian king, barbarian! ..

He uttered the last word with bitterness, in which there was also a threat. Philip suddenly became thoughtful and gloomy. The cries of victory that had risen in the tent subsided.

– Do you remember how they said it once, in those ancient times, to my great-grandfather, the Macedonian king Alexander? Philip's face became heavy, and his eyes filled with anger. Maybe you don't remember, maybe you don't know? Alexander then came to Olympia, he wanted to, like any Hellene - and we are Hellenes from Argos, descendants of Hercules, as you know! So, he wanted to enter the competition. And what a fuss they made there! "Remove the Macedonian from Olympia! Remove barbarian! Barbarians have no right to participate in Hellenic festivities! But Tsar Alexander did not give up. He managed to prove to them that we Macedonians descended from the kings of Argos, from Hercules himself. And then the great Pindar himself glorified his Olympic victories. And now, - Philip laughed, - now we are not only participating, but also winning. I order in memory of this victory to knock out horses and a chariot on my coins - let them not forget that we know how to win!

The merriment raged again in the tent. But not for long. Philip, upset by the memories, thought.

- How much did the Macedonian kings work to strengthen and glorify Macedonia! My father Amyntas fought hard wars with the Illyrians and the Olynthians all his life, defending our independence. And my older brother, Tsar Alexander? True, he acted more by persuasion, by gold. He paid off the Illyrians. He was ready for anything, if only the enemies would give our country the opportunity to gather strength. That's why I was handed over to them as hostages.

Perhaps you will say that my older brother, Tsar Alexander, did not love me and did not feel sorry for me? “Yes,” you say, “he didn’t feel sorry for you. He gave you, a very small child, his youngest brother, as a hostage.” Yes, I gave. But he did this to protect Macedonia from enemies who were stronger than him. My older brother was a wise ruler. Who moved the Macedonian capital from Aigus to Pella? Tsar Alexander. Because it's safer here. And in Egi we will bury our kings. My older brother Alexander is already resting there. And they will take me to Aegy when I die. And my sons who will be kings after me. You know the prediction: as long as the Macedonian kings are buried in Egi, their lineage will not end.

“King,” one of the commanders called out to him, “why talk about death at a feast?

- No no! - Philip threw thick blond curls from his forehead. “I'm talking about my older brother, Tsar Alexander. After all, when he began to reign, enemies threatened him from all sides. Illyria threatened him terribly. And he didn't have the strength to defend himself. What was he to do? Conclude a treaty of friendship, pay off. That's when he handed me over to the Illyrians as a hostage. But he paid the ransom and brought me home. And your fathers, the rich rulers of Upper Macedonia, did not want to help him!

Indistinct noise, indistinct protesting speeches were heard in response. Philip did not understand them and did not hear them.

- You will say that my older brother, Tsar Alexander, gave me a second time as a hostage? Yes, I gave it to the Thebes. And what was he to do? After all, he needed to establish and strengthen friendship with Thebes, because the Theban leader Epaminondas, the most glorious, invincible commander, he needed a friend, not an enemy. For three whole years I lived in Thebes, in the house of the great man Epaminondas. There I became a real Hellenic, there I understood what Hellas is, how high its culture is, how great its poets, philosophers, sculptors ... I was brought up there, I was given an education. And most importantly, I was taught to fight. Let's drink to the great commander and philosopher, to the stern and noble man Epaminondas!

The wine sparkled again in the cups, the voices rustled again, and the merriment that had been extinguished revived the feast again. And no one heard the clatter of the horse's hooves in front of the tent. And they did not immediately see how a new messenger appeared in the tent.

Good news to you, king!

- Where are you from? Philip asked. What news do you bring me?

The messenger barely took a breath:

- I'm from Illyria...

Philip immediately sobered up.

– What is there? How is my Parmenion?...

“General Parmenion is alive and well. And congratulations on your victory.

- With a win? Defeated the Illyrians?

The Illyrians have left the battlefield. There was a big fight. Many troops lay down. But we defeated the enemy. Parmenion bows to you.

– My friend Parmenion! Thank you. Do you hear? The Illyrians are defeated. So many victories at once: Potidea is taken, my horses won at Olympia. And now - the Illyrians are defeated! .. Give the messenger wine, reward him! Let's celebrate this victory!

But the extraordinary news did not end there. A third messenger rushed in, also tired, and also joyful.

“I am from Pella, king!” From your home. Queen Olympias told me to tell you that your son was born.

- Son! - shouted Philip and with a clang he brought down the bowl on the table. - You hear? Son! I have a son! Philip's eyes sparkled with happy tears. Do you hear, Macedonians? Philip stood up and looked around at his entourage. – Your future tsar was born… What else was ordered to convey to me?

“It was also ordered to convey that two eagles sat on the roof of your house all day today.

- Two eagles. This is a good omen. I will name my son after my older brother - Alexander. The future king of Macedonia, Alexander, was born. On horses! To Pella!

The hooves of heavy horses rumbled along the rocky mountain roads. Horsemen, already without helmets and armor, rushed to Pella, the new capital - the fortress of the Macedonian kings, which stood on the Ludia River, on a wide plain surrounded by mountains.

At Pella, the soothsayers announced to Philip:

“Your son, whose birth coincided with three victories, will be invincible.

All this happened in the summer, on the sixth day of the month of Hecatombeon in Hellenic, and in Macedonian - Loya, three hundred and fifty-sixth year BC.

Philip and the Olympics

The child was carried in her arms by a nurse, a woman from a noble Macedonian family, Lanika.

Philip, who had not yet washed from the road, smelling of iron armor and horse sweat, lifted the light coverlet embroidered with gold. The baby, strong and all pink, was sleeping, but when the light fell on his face, he opened his eyes.

Philip smiled broadly, his chest felt warm with tenderness. The light-eyed boy looked at him, his son, his Alexander, as bright-eyed as his father, the Greek from Argos! And not at all like his mother's relatives, the gloomy people of the harsh country of Epirus.

Olympias, Philip's wife, was waiting for her husband in the far chambers of the gynoecium. Still ill, she lay in bed on highly fluffed pillows. She did everything to appear beautiful - she blushed, furrowed her eyebrows, curled her hair in small ringlets. Putting her hands, weighted with gold bracelets, over the blanket, she lay motionless, listening to the voices, to the steps, to the movement in the house.

Behind the wall, looms were muffled tapping, quiet conversations were rustling - these are slaves chatting at work, they know that the Olympics will not enter them now ...

Children's laughter came from the courtyard of the gynaecium. This is her little daughter Cleopatra playing with her friends - swinging on a swing or splashing in the warm, sun-warmed water of the pool. There is also another royal daughter with them, the daughter of Philip and an Illyrian flutist, one of those despicable women who come to entertain guests at feasts. Kinana is wild, sullen, eyes like burning coals from under black eyebrows. But Philip's will is adamant. Kinana is his daughter and should be brought up with the children of the Olympias. The Olympics can only do one thing - not to know it, not to see it, not to notice it ...

Cheerful cries and laughter of children, noise in the weaving room - all this irritated. Lanika went out with the child to meet Philip - Olympias needed to hear how Philip would meet her.

Finally, her sensitive ear caught the familiar, slightly hoarse voice of the king. Lights lit up in the black eyes of Olympias, like torches of celebration. She loved Philip from their very first meeting, she loved him both when he was tender to her, and now, when, in an incomprehensible chill, he pulled away from her. Or on a hike. Or he feasts with his commanders and airmen. Or he receives guests: some Hellenic scientists, actors, poets ... Philip is always busy, he has a lot of things to do, and he has time for everything. Only there is no time to look at her, in her smart and so sad gyno.

And yet the Olympics were waiting for him. Perhaps today, when a son was born, Philip's icy heart will warm up and melt?

But the minutes passed, and there was still a tense silence in the gynaecium. Wouldn't he even come to visit her now? Won't come today?

No! It can't be! It can't be! Just don't lose your patience...

How could it happen that she, the beautiful, proud Olympias, lies here alone, sick, helpless, and Philip seems to have forgotten that she exists in the world? ...

- “... Gies-attes! Attes-gies!” - Frenzied female voices, selflessly glorifying the gods in the black intoxicating night.

Olympias clearly hears them now. Memory inevitably takes her back to the days of her youth.

She was then just a girl when she met Philip at the festivities in honor of the gods of fertility Kabiri.

The Hellenes laughed at these gloomy pot-bellied Kabirs. But the Thracians honored them. Olympias, the young niece of the king of Epirus Arriba, passionately loved the magical nights of mysterious mysteries. On the island of Samothrace, where these barbarian celebrations were celebrated, she, along with Thracian girls and women, frantically brandishing a torch, ran through the mountains and valleys. Under the wild howl of tympans, under the ringing of cymbals and the hard noise of rattles, she shouted out the glory of the gods, the glory of Sabazius, the god who had passed on to them the mysteries of Dionysus.

- Gies-attes! Attes-gies!

During solemn processions, she carried a sacred basket and a thyrsus - a staff decorated with ivy. Beneath the ivy leaves - Olympias thought she could still smell its bitter, tart smell - in her basket lurked pet snakes - throats. Often they crawled out of the basket and wrapped around the thyrsus. And then the Olympias, in wild delight, frightened the men who came to look at the sacred processions of women.

On one of these black, hot nights of religious frenzy, she met Philip, who also appeared at the festivities of the Kabirs. The red light of the torch suddenly lit up his youthful bright-eyed face under the thick green of the celebratory wreath.

Olympias rushed to him with her terrible snake.

- Gies-attes!

But Philip did not shield himself, did not run away. He smiled, and Olympias, immediately embarrassed, helplessly lowered the thyrsus ...

Happy vision of happy years!

Olympias lay in her lonely chamber and waited. She waited, listening to see if the steps of her cheerful and formidable husband would rattle on the resonant stone slabs of the portico.

The water roared in the bath. It is servants preparing a bath for the king.

So, he will come when he has washed away the dust and dirt of the march. Patience. Patience.

... Philip then also could not refuse it. I couldn't. He swore that he would take her to his place in Macedonia.

In the meantime, after the end of the festivities, she had to return home. A heap of harsh gray rocks of gloomy Epirus, deep narrow valleys in which the day fades early, because the mountains obscure the sun. There is almost always snow on the tops. Thunder often rumbles and blue lightning flashes in the mountains. Raging icy winds howl in the wild mountain gorges... Epirus, her sad homeland...

How young Olympias yearned when she returned from Samothrace! Like waking up after a happy night full of beautiful dreams.

She had neither father nor mother. Whom to tell about your happiness? With whom to share your longing? Her uncle and guardian Arribe only cares about one thing - it is profitable to marry her off.

Olympias sat for a long time on the side of the mountain, from where a great road was visible, going from the Aegean Sea through their country to the Adriatic - going from there, where lies the magical land - Macedonia.

Travelers were walking, leading loaded horses. Worshipers went to the oracle of Zeus of Dodona to make a sacrifice and ask for advice. Olympias was there, saw this sanctuary, surrounded by hundred-year-old oaks. The Dodona valley is so gloomy, and the priests are so severe... What joyful thing can this oracle predict?

It hasn't been too long. And the Olympics seemed like half a lifetime had passed. But finally, ambassadors from Macedonia came to the royal house in Epirus to ask her to marry the Macedonian king.

Arriba refused. Philip is still too young, he has just entered the kingdom. Let him grow up, look around in life. And Olympias announced that he was not only young, but also poor, and his Macedonia was a small, weak country, and Arriba saw no reason to send his niece there.

Olympias almost died of grief. And she would die, she wouldn't be able to bear it.

But Philip was not one of those who calmly accepts a refusal. How did he get Arriba's consent? The Olympics then did not know how. Now she knows. Who can resist if Philip wants to charm a person? Why won't he promise? He can promise everything. And even what is not in his ability to perform. And even what is not going to perform.

How fun, how beautifully celebrated their wedding!

Raise the roof above

O Hymen!

Higher, higher, carpenters, -

O Hymen!

Like Ares, the groom is coming, -

O Hymen!

He is taller than all the tallest -

O Hymen!

She, under a thick veil, sat in a luxurious chariot next to Philip, almost not breathing with happiness. A whole procession accompanied them when Philip took her from Epirus to his Pella. Olympias even now hears the cheerful, ringing voices of flutes and a wedding song ...

Everything suddenly fell silent: a nurse entered the chamber with a child in her arms. Olympias lifted her eyelashes, the festive lights in her eyes went out. She understood: Philip would not come.

Philip diligently bathed in the bath, in a bath of baked clay. Hot water washed away everything: sweat, fatigue, and the blood of enemies who died under his sword, and his own blood ... Water splashed violently from the bath onto the stone floor and ran in a stream through the gutter into the underground pipe, where water went from all the courtyards of the vast royal house .

Clean clothes embraced the body with freshness and coolness. Philip left the bath. Fatigue is gone. Crossing the threshold, he breathed in with pleasure the smell of the forest flowing from the mountains, the smell of blossoming linden and resinous pine warmed by the sun.

To the right, behind the columns of the portico, filled with direct rays of the sun, one could see the prodomos, the entrance to the farthest, most secluded chamber of the palace - the gynaecium, the rooms of his wife, daughters and maids. His light-eyed son is there now. I wanted to look at him again, touch him, see his smile ...

Gotta go. In addition, the Olympics have been waiting for him for a long time, he knows it. Yes, he will go to her now, because she is his wife, the mother of his son.

Philip resolutely went to the gyno. But he entered the prodomos, and his step slowed down, froze.

He did not dream it, no, his eyes saw it, his own eyes. He went one morning to his wife, opened the door. Olympias slept. And next to her, on her wide bed, lay a big snake!

Philip then quietly closed the chambers and left. Since then, he could not suppress his disgust for his wife. He was convinced that his wife was a witch.

And now he stopped, struggling with this disgusting memory.

“No,” he finally whispered, “I swear by Zeus, I can’t see her!”

He turned and with a large firm step went to his male half - to the megaron.

Here, in great hall, the hearth was already smoking, raising soot to the very ceiling. There was a smell of roast lamb, something was burning. The servants hurriedly prepared dinner. Philip approvingly glanced at the laid tables, mountains of greenery and fruits, chased bowls and craters full of wine with a sparkling glance ... His friends, eters and generals, will soon gather here: Philip did not like to sit at the table alone. He will feast and be merry all day and all night. As many days and as many nights as his soul desires.

In the meantime, he was overcome by thoughts and worries. Philip stepped out into a wide courtyard paved with stone slabs, surrounded by services, dwellings of slaves, barns and storerooms. Servants ran with some supplies from the pantries to the palace. In the middle of the yard, stretched out in the sun, the dogs were sleeping...

The palace stood on the highest point in the city. The whole of Pella was visible from here: narrow streets, clearly defined by blue shadows, tiled and reed roofs bathed in the yellow light of the hot sun, quiet, slowly flowing Ludius, overshadowed by trees.

And in the distance, behind the city wall, there is a wide plain and mountains that close the horizon. And on the mountain ledges there is a forest, a rich forest full of birds and animals. The forest climbs the slopes, descends into valleys and gorges. There are so many forests and it is so powerful that during the war with Hellas the Persians had to cut clearings so that the troops could cross the Macedonian mountains. Spruce, maple, oak, wide-crowned lindens, walnut, chestnut, illuminating the valleys with torches of their white and pink flowers ... And most importantly - pine, tall, even, copper-trunked, with a dense top looking into the sky. Athens and many other states buy pine trees from him to build ships. Let them buy: Philip needs money. He needs money because he needs a strong, well-armed army. Macedonia needs access to the sea. Hellenic colonies settled along the entire coast of the Euxine Pontus; they clung to this shore, their cities grew everywhere: Apollonia, Messembria, Dionysopol ... And further, along the coast of Thrace, to the very Scythian lands.

Philip needs money because he also needs a fleet. He will break through this Hellenic coastal armor with his phalanxes and go out to the sea. Its merchant ships will go along the great sea route, and long black ships will stand as a powerful defense off the coast of Macedonia.

And besides, money is also needed for bribery: for Philip, all means are good, if only to succeed.

“All fortresses can be taken,” Philip said more than once, smiling cynically, “into which a donkey loaded with gold can enter!”

But there will be money. In the depths of Mount Pangei, which he captured, in its vicinity and along the banks of the Strymon River, gold and silver ores are abundant. So plentiful that landowners often plow whole pieces of gold with their wooden plow.

“Now I will issue not only copper and silver money,” Philip muttered, hiding a triumphant smile in his mustache, “but also gold. Golden "Filippiks" - that's what my money will be called! What will Athens say to this? ...

Philip gritted his teeth. Barbarian! They don't say that out loud, but that's what they think. Let's see, somehow they will call Philip, when he is not good, so he will enter the Athenian land by force and dictate his will to them!

And for this, again, an army is needed, even more powerful than now, even stronger armed, even better trained. Not just an army, but an army of a conqueror, who knows neither condescension nor mercy!

But enough worries. The tables are set, the guests have gathered. Musicians here, singers, dancers, actors!

Iridescent trills of flutes, the ringing of citharas, frantic drunken voices, laughter, cries shook the walls of the megaron until morning. Only at dawn did the royal airs disperse to their homes. And who could not leave, fell asleep here, at the table. There were those who fell on the stone floor, mistaking the colored, red and blue mosaic near the hearth for an oriental carpet.

Who is Demosthenes

Alexander's childhood passed in a difficult atmosphere of family discord.

Olympias loved her son with all the fervor of her furious soul. Both the mother and the nurse tried to do everything to make him happy in their warm female environment and so that he was not very drawn to his father.

Olympias told the boy different stories about the victories of the Macedonian kings and the kings of Epirus. Especially the epic ones. She did not really care if Alexander understood everything in these stories. It gave her some bitter pleasure to repeat that the family of the kings of Epirus from a tribe of warlike, always independent Molossians is no worse and no lower than the Macedonian kings.

“The Macedonian kings—and your father—are descended from Heracles. And we, the kings of Epirus, and through me you too, descend from Achilles, the son of Peleus. Achilles is a great hero, glorified for all ages.

She could talk endlessly about her famous ancestors. About how the godly Achilles fought near Troy, what armor he had on, what spear he had, what shield ... And the boy did not get tired of listening to stories about wars and battles.

Philip, busy with military campaigns, obsessed with daring plans to conquer all neighboring peoples, was rarely at home.

But sometimes a bearded man, from whom there was a strong smell of sweat and iron, loud, cheerful, appeared before the bright-eyed boy - his father. Despite the jealous displeasure of his mother, Alexander reached out to him, clutched at his curly beard, tried to pull the dagger hanging from his belt from its scabbard ...

One day, Philip returned from a campaign with a black bandage covering his right eye. Three-year-old Alexander looked at his bandage with curiosity, and then wanted to look at the eye that was hidden under it.

- And there is no eye, - calmly said the father, - it was knocked out by an arrow. But what is the eye? I laid siege to the great city of Methone, you understand? Dropped and took. Residents did not want to give up, they defended themselves. That's where my eyes were gouged out. Arrow from the wall. However, I nevertheless laid siege to Methon and took it.

“Besieged and took,” the boy repeated.

Did you kill them?

- Killed. And what else to do with them if they do not give up?

Alexander fell silent, wrinkling his blond brows. He tried to learn the lesson of the conqueror: if they don’t give up, kill!

Philip stubbornly and consistently besieged and captured the cities of the Hellenic colonies. Having finished one battle, he rushed into another. Having plundered one city, he captured and plundered another. His strength grew, the army grew stronger, the treasury was filled with gold.

And he loved them, loved them from the very time when he lived with the Thebans as a young man. Thebes were strong and powerful. But Athens is a city of sages and poets, sculptors and artists, a city of orators and scientists. What a high glory he is crowned with! And how Philip would have liked to enter that city as an Athenian citizen, equal to every Athenian!

True, now they recognized Philip as a Greek: he forced them to do so. But they recognized it only because they began to fear his military strength. He is still a barbarian to them. Macedonian. They even laugh at the Macedonian language: “Something like Hellenic, but what a rude barbarian dialect! And they call themselves Hellenes!”

Philip maintained peace with Athens. But he never left the thought of defeating Athens. He prepared for this in earnest. Capturing the Athenian colonies, with all sorts of tricks he quarreled among themselves with their allies, brought discord through his secret spies even into the internal affairs of Athens. However, he was afraid to start an open war: the Athenians still had a fairly strong army and the largest fleet.

Therefore, for the time being, it is better to take oaths of friendship and fidelity, the most ardent friendship and the most unchanging fidelity!

But there was already anxiety in Athens. Some small, insignificant Macedonia captures the Hellenic cities one by one, and the Hellenes lose battles all the time. What's happening? Maybe Athens has already lost both its power and its influence? Maybe Philip can no longer be defeated, it is impossible to stop his advance on their lands? Or are his troops really invincible?

In these days of anxiety and apprehension, the Pritani convened the People's Assembly, the highest organ of their democratic power.

The people gathered on the Pnyx, on a hill in the southwestern part of the city, where popular meetings almost always took place. Heavy walls of huge stones surrounded the Pnyx in a semicircle. Athenian citizens were sitting on stone benches, making noise, jostling, arguing... Today, the heralds did not have to persuade them to come to the meeting or drag them by force, wrapping the crowd with a rope stained with cinnabar, as often happened recently. The danger became threatening.

The Athenian orator Demosthenes ascended to the high platform, from which the distant blue of the sea was visible. In modest clothes, with his right shoulder bare, as the Hellenes then walked, he stood before the people, trying to cope with his excitement. He often had to perform on the Pnyx, and yet he was painfully worried every time. He knew that he was ugly, that his thin hands, tensely clenched, thin-lipped mouth, and drawn together eyebrows with a deep wrinkle between them did not produce on people the captivating impression necessary for an orator. Everything happened: mockery of his burr, whistles ... It happened that he was driven from the podium because of the weakness of his voice.

- Citizens of Athens!

- First of all, citizens of Athens, one should not lose heart, looking at the present situation, no matter how bad it may seem!

The people listened eagerly. This was what he wanted to hear.

“You yourself, citizens of Athens, brought your affairs to such a bad state, because you did nothing that was necessary. Now, if you did everything you could, and our affairs still ended up in this difficult situation, then there would be no hope for their improvement.

Demosthenes bitterly reproached the Athenians for inactivity in relation to Philip, for the fact that they, in their grief, believe him. It wasn't very pleasant to listen to. But Demosthenes did not deprive them of hope to cope with the Macedonian threat, and they listened to him with bated breath.

“If any of you citizens of Athens think that it is difficult to wage war with Philip, because his forces are great and because our state has lost all the fortified places, that person judges, of course, correctly. But still, let him take into account the fact that we, the citizens of Athens, once owned Pydna, Potidea and Methone, and all this region with its surroundings. And let him remember that Philip's current allies used to prefer to maintain friendly relations with us, and not with him. If Philip had been frightened and decided that it would be difficult for him to fight with the Athenians - after all, we have so many fortresses that threaten his country! - if he had hesitated then, he would not have achieved anything and would not have acquired such strength.

Demosthenes spoke for a long time, but the Athenians still listened to him attentively and eagerly. His speech lifted the spirit of the Athenian citizens, and this was now necessary for them.

“Do not really think that, like a god, his present position is fixed forever! What should Athens do? Equip an army and put an end to the robberies of Philip ...

Philip very soon became aware of the performance of Demosthenes.

The Macedonian king had his own people in all the surrounding countries - "eavesdroppers" and "peepers". And now one of them came to him from Athens and told in detail what Demosthenes had said.

Philip chuckled.

“And he thinks that Athens will fight at his word!” He tries in vain: you cannot raise the Athenians to war. They are pampered and lazy, they are accustomed to the fact that all the work is carried out for them by slaves and mercenaries, and war is too hard and dangerous work. Performing in the square, flaunting eloquence - that's their occupation. The roof is not yet on fire over their heads! - And he added to himself with a threat: "But it's already smoldering!"

Alexander was only five years old when Demosthenes made his first speech against his father.

Who is this Demosthenes? Olympias asked Lanika. “Another Athenian screamer?”

Demosthenes was already heard about in the palace, they talked about him, they laughed at him. Lanika's brother, Black Clit, was one of Philip's young eters, so Lanika knew who Demosthenes was.

Demosthenes, the son of Demosthenes, is from a family of wealthy Athenian citizens. His father had a house in the city and two workshops - furniture and weapons, in which slaves worked. Demosthenes' father was a man worthy of respect. This is recognized even by his opponent, orator Aeschines. But on the part of the mother of Demosthenes, as it was then believed in Hellas, not everything is safe. His grandfather Gilon was expelled from Athens for treason. He lived on the banks of the Pontus Euxinus, where he married a Scythian. So the mother of Demosthenes Cleobula was half Scythian blood. That is why Aeschines calls him a barbarian who speaks the Hellenic language.

Demosthenes' father and mother died early, he was only seven years old at the time. His father left him and his sister a good inheritance. But the guardians squandered their wealth.

As a child, Demosthenes was so weak and sickly that he did not even go to train in the palestra, as all Athenian boys did. For that, they laughed at him, called him Battal - a sissy and a stutterer. And Battal was a flutist from Ephesus. He dressed up in a woman's outfit and performed on stage in female roles. So Demosthenes was nicknamed Battalus because he was pampered and weak, like a woman.

As a child, he managed to attend one trial. A slave was assigned to Demosthenes, who looked after him. And he begged this slave to let him go to listen to the famous Athenian orator at that time. The slave let him go. And when Demosthenes listened to this orator, he could not forget him. Since then, he has had a relentless dream - to learn oratory.

When Demosthenes grew up, he invited the experienced orator Issus to be his teacher. And as soon as he became an adult, he sued his dishonest guardians and himself spoke out against them in court. The judges recognized that his demands were legitimate and fair. And they ordered the guardians to return the inheritance to him.

The guardians did not refuse to return to Demosthenes his wealth. But how will you get it back if everything is spent?

“At one time,” Lanika said, “in order to somehow live for himself and his sister, Demosthenes delivered judicial speeches and earned money by this. And now he has become a politician, interfering in all the state affairs of Athens and trying to impose his will on everyone.

“But wasn’t it about him that they said that he was burry?”

- About him.

“But how can he make speeches in the National Assembly?” No one will listen to such a speaker in Athens, he will be driven out immediately!

- And they chased him away. With a whistle. As soon as he starts to burr - he could not pronounce the letter "r", and even as he starts to twitch his shoulder, then they drive him away from the podium!

But why are they listening now? Or just because he opposes Philip?

“Now he doesn’t burr anymore. They say that he walked along the seashore and, having typed pebbles in his mouth, recited poetry. He tried to make his speech clear even with stones in his mouth. And he strengthened his voice so much that even the surf could not drown it out. Then he made speeches in front of a mirror, looked at whether his gestures were beautiful. And in order not to twitch his shoulder - people laughed a lot when he twitched on the podium - so he hung a sword over his shoulder. As it twitches, it will prick on the tip!

Alexander attentively listened to Lanika's story, resting his elbows on her knees.

Who is Demosthenes? - he asked. Is Demosthenes a king?

- Well, what are you! Lanika laughed. - What a king! Simple Athenian. Democrat.

- Who is a Democrat?

- This is a person who thinks that everything should be done the way the people want. And he hates kings.

"And my father?"

“And he hates your father the most.

The king's little son, his rounded brows furrowed, thought. He did not really understand what kind of people he was talking about and what Demosthenes was trying to achieve by learning to speak well.

But that Demosthenes hates kings and hates his father, he understood this. And I remember it for the rest of my life.

Alexander leaves for the megaron

When Alexander was seven years old, he, according to the custom of the Hellenes, was taken away from his mother to the male half of the house.

The Olympics were upset. She combed the boy's tight curls, preening him. And she herself kept looking into his big bright eyes - do not tears shine in them, is there sadness hidden?

But Alexander did not cry, and there was no sadness in his eyes. He impatiently wrenched himself out of his mother's arms, waving away her golden comb. In order not to burst into tears herself, Olympias tried to joke:

"That's how you're going to the megaron!" Just like Achilles, the son of Peleus, was going to battle. Do you remember? From the shield his light reached the ether. And the helmet shone like a star. And his hair was golden, like yours...

But Alexander, who already knew by heart everything about Achilles, the son of Peleus, this time did not listen to what his mother was saying. And Olympias realized with bitterness that the child was leaving her hands and simply could not wait for the moment when she would enter, like an adult man, into her father's megaron.

Leonid, a relative of Olympias, came after him. She made sure that he was taken as a teacher-educator to her son. Still, his man, through him Olympias will know how Alexander lives in the megaron.

“I beg you, don’t torment him too much in the gymnasiums,” she said to Leonid, and he looked at her in surprise - her voice rang out so much from suppressed tears, - he is still small. Here, take a basket, here are sweets. Give it to him when he wants to eat.

“I can’t do any of this,” Leonid replied, “I was told: no concessions, no indulgences.

- But you hide, you will slowly give!

“Will I be the only one around him?” A whole crowd of educators-teachers. At the same moment they will inform the king. No, I will educate him as befits a Hellene - the more severe, the better.

- Well, let's go! Alexander grabbed Leonid's hand and pulled him towards the exit. - Let's go!

Lanika, unable to stand it, turned away and covered her face with a veil in tears. The mother walked the boy to the door. And then she stood for a long time under a shower of sunlight falling through a hole in the ceiling.

Alexander, without looking back, left with his teacher. They crossed the sunny courtyard and disappeared into the blue doorway of the megaron.

Olympias knew that this day would come, she was waiting for him with secret longing. And this day has come. Philip took her son from her as he took his love. But will not the day come when she will pay Philip for everything?

Gloomy, with knitted eyebrows, Olympias returned to the gyno. The rooms seemed too quiet and completely empty.

The maids and slaves trembled as she entered them. The stern gleam in her eyes did not bode well. The conversation with which they brightened up the time at work froze on their lips. Only the ringing rustle of the spindles and the tapping of the stuffings of the loom could be heard in the big low room full of people.

Olimpiada meticulously looked at the work.

- What is it - a thread or a rope on your spindle? ... And why do you have so many knots? What will be from such yarn - cloth or sackcloth? I swear by the Hero, I've been too kind to you all along!

A slap to the left, a slap to the right, a kick, a jerk… Olympias vented her grief on the maids as best she could. Having ordered to whip the young slave, who seemed to her too arrogant, with rods, Olympias calmed down a little. She called her daughters, who were playing ball in the yard, and told them to sit down for the yarn. What kind of mistresses will they be in their time, and how can they ask work from their slaves if they themselves do not learn anything?

Returning to the bedroom, Olympias sat down at the hoop and began to embroider a black border on a pink peplos. Now her life, her worries, her dreams are only in one thing: to give work to maids, make sure that they do it well, and even sit down at the camp and weave a woolen cloak for her husband, or, as now, take care of her outfit, which is no longer available to anyone. pleases...

And the boy, who filled all her days and nights, went to his father.

Alexander had run to the megaron more than once before. But the father did not want the boy to see his drunken feasts, and ordered the child to be taken back immediately.

Now Alexander entered here by right. He walked with his back straight to appear taller. He slowed down, looking at the rough, soot-covered paintings on the walls. He called the dogs, who, having entered from the yard, wandered freely around the hall in search of some kind of food - after a feast, under the table one could always find a good bone or a half-eaten piece.

In the megaron, educators were waiting for Alexander, who were obliged to look after him, teach him the rules of behavior, and train him in gymnasiums. Each of them welcomed Alexander, each wanted to please him. Lysimachus from Akarnani tried especially hard.

- What a handsome! Yes, how strong! Achilles, and only. Soon, perhaps, he will go camping with his father. But if you, Alexander, are Achilles, then I am your old Phoenix. After all, I am also assigned to you - to teach and educate you. Do you know how the great Homer wrote in the Iliad?

... There I raised you like that, like immortals!

I loved you tenderly; and with others you never wanted

Not to go to a feast, not to eat something at home,

Before I sit on my knees and cut

I won't put the meat to pieces for you and the goblet to your lips!

So I, like a Phoenix, am ready to serve my god-equal Achilles!

Other educators also praised Alexander, trying to subtly assert their influence. But no one was so dexterous in praise as this Acarnanian, who, although he was a crude ignoramus in all other sciences, knew Homer and skillfully played on it.

Alexander was flattered by all this. But he listened to them with an imperturbable face and with a proud posture. He is the king's son. He is praised, but that's the way it should be.

- Hello! - said his father, who had just woken up after yesterday's plentiful dinner with wine. - From Philip, king of Macedonia, hello to Alexander!

The boy's eyes sparkled with delight.

- Tsar Philip of Macedonia from Alexander hello! he answered briskly.

He flushed all over, so that his face, neck, and chest turned red. White-skinned, he blushed instantly, as if engulfed in fire.

- You are the man. Learn to run, swim, shoot a bow, throw a discus, throw a spear. Do whatever the teachers say. I swear by Zeus, I need a strong, strong son, and not some sissy!

And, turning to Leonid, Philip reminded menacingly:

- No concessions! No concessions!

“And I don’t need favors!” – offended, passionately said Alexander. “I will go to the gymnasium myself. Now I'll go!

Philip looked into the bright, fearless eyes of his son and grinned.

"Don't be angry," he said, "that's how I was taught myself." So the noble Epaminondas taught me - without concessions. Therefore, now I don’t know fatigue in battles, I endure the most difficult hardships on campaigns, beat the enemy with a sarissa - and my hand does not weaken, I can ride a horse day and night without rest, and when necessary - suddenly appear in front of the enemy and defeat him on the move!

- I will also ride a horse and beat on the move!

- I'll keep everything. And I will win even more! I will be like Achilles!

A shadow passed over Philip's face. Olympics! These are her stories!

- Do not forget that the Macedonian kings came from Argos, from the country of Hercules, - he said, - and that you yourself are a descendant of Hercules. Never forget about it! Never!

Alexander, looking intently at his father, silently nodded his head. He understood.

started new life among men, among male conversations and stories of past battles, of captured cities and of cities that should have been captured ...

Alexander did not need any concessions or concessions. Strong, agile, reckless, he practiced with pleasure in the palestra, ran and jumped, threw a dart, learned to draw a bow, which Leonid made for him. Barely reaching the bridle, he was already climbing on the horse, falling, bruising badly and only groaning in pain. He learned to ride a horse before all his peers. He himself is barely visible because of the horse's mane, but he gallops so that the teachers almost fall from fear.

If by chance someone called Alexander a child, blood rushed into his face. Without remembering himself, he ran into the offender with his fists, without thinking whether he would cope with him or get a good change. And it happened that he received change. But then he became even more inflamed, and it was impossible to stop him.

The teachers couldn't deal with him. Hot-tempered, stubborn, Alexander did everything as he wanted, as he saw fit. And only then could he abandon his plan if he was able to explain that what he had planned was bad.

Soon everyone around him already knew that one could get along with Alexander only by reasonable arguments, but not by strictness, not by order.

The father knew it too. Looking at his bruises and scratches, Philip grinned into his mustache:

“Alexander, the future king of Macedonia! Oh, are you still going to get such bruises in life!

At that time, Philip and Alexander got along well with each other.

But the father, as always, did not stay long at home. And a year had not passed, when again the helmets of military detachments flashed through the streets of Pella and the forest of spears moved to the city gates. Again outside the walls of the city, siege towers and battering rams with a copper ram's forehead rumbled. Again, in the wide royal court, heavy war horses neighed and clattered with their hooves ...

Alexander stood, pressed against the warm column of the portico, and watched as the eters, friends and generals, the closest associates of the king, mounted their horses. Courageous, tanned in campaigns, accustomed to continuous battles, robberies and robberies, they were going to war, as in the usual way, calmly and efficiently checked weapons, straightened horse blankets; riders in those days did not know either saddles or stirrups.

Philip passed by, big, broad-shouldered. They brought him his red horse under a blue embroidered blanket. Philip, with habitual agility, mounted his horse, which was snoring and lifting its maned head. Philip pulled the bridle, and the horse immediately resigned.

Alexander did not take his eyes off his father. He waited for his father to notice him.

But Philip was already a stranger, harsh and formidable. Under his knitted eyebrows, his gaze was directed somewhere far away, to such a distance that Alexander could not yet comprehend.

The wide gates, creaking hoarsely on their hinges, opened. Philip left first. Behind him, like a sparkling stream, ethers rushed. Fewer and fewer of them in the yard. And now there is no one, and the gates, croaking, closed. Silence immediately set in, only the trees rustled a little audibly above the roof, dropping the first yellow leaves of the coming autumn on the cool stones.

Where is my Achilles? Your Phoenix is ​​looking for you!

Alexander pushed Lysimachus away with his fist. Silently, pursing his trembling lips, he went to the palestra. His peers, children of noble Macedonians, played ball there. A tall, slender boy Hephaestion immediately ran up to him:

- Will you play with us?

Alexander swallowed back his tears.

“Of course,” he replied.

First Olynthian

On the Thracian coast stood the great Greek city of Olynthus.

Olynthes fought a lot. In ancient times, he fought with Athens, although the inhabitants who inhabited it were from Chalkis, an Athenian colony. Fought with Sparta.

Now Olynthus was a strong and rich city. He stood at the head of thirty-two related cities, located on the coast of the Euxine Pontus.

The Olynthians made an alliance with Philip. And they did not have a more faithful, more benevolent ally than the king of Macedonia. Philip helped them in the war against Athens. The city of Anthemunt, because of which Olynthus and Macedonia were always arguing, Philip gave Olynthus. He gave the Olynthians and Potidea, which he took away from Athens with a great fight. He loved Olynthus so much, he valued his friendship so much!

But not very many years passed, and the Olynthians, looking around, suddenly saw that the whole area surrounding their city was somehow imperceptibly, little by little captured by Philip.

Now in Olynthes they were alarmed. The Macedonian becomes too strong. He is their ally, he gives them cities ... But is it because he is doing all this that he is afraid that Olynthes would interfere in his robbery affairs?

How many rulers did he assure of his friendship, and then ruthlessly ravaged their lands! Didn't he deceive the Athenians when he promised on oath to conquer Amphipolis for them? Big City near the mouth of the large river Strymon, an important point in trade with the cities of Pontus Euxinus, a port city of the entire Thracian coast, rich in mines, vineyards, olives ...

The Athenians believed Philip. But how did they not understand that he needed Amphipolis himself? They agreed: let Philip conquer this city for them. Philip took it by storm - and left it to himself! Now Amphipolis is his most important strategic base, a fortress that opened the entire coast of Thrace to him. And why Philip assured Athens that he was fighting for them? Yes, so that they do not interfere with him!

Perhaps this treacherous man also calms the Olynthians with sweet speeches in order to more accurately deceive them and then capture them?

Truly, Philip's intentions are impossible to unravel.

We won't cross the bridge until we get to it! is his usual reply to friends and foes alike. And what he wants to say by this, only he knows.

Suspicion soon turned into certainty and hostility. But Philip, with his seductive speeches, was far away and did not know anything. At that time, he fought in Thessaly and successfully captured cities there one after another: Thera, Pagasi, Magnesia, the Locrian city of Nicaea ...

The mountains stood in yellow and crimson robes of autumn. But in the valley where Philip's military camp was located, the grass was still green. The harsh gray sky hung overhead, dimming the colors of autumn foliage with its cold light.

Philip's army, burdened with plundered wealth, rested by the fires. Philip had already celebrated his victory with copious and noisy feasts. And now, sober and business-like, he sat in a tent with his commanders and discussed further plans for military operations. Philip was not going to rest, he had no time to rest - there were still so many big and difficult things to do!

Now it's time to take Olynthus. Part of the troops had already set off in that direction. Philip ordered to be quiet and, not reaching Olynthos, so that no one there would guess about Philip's plans, to wait for him. You have to come unexpectedly. Surprise is always half the battle.

“Are you sure, king, that they don’t know your intentions?” one of the generals asked.

“If that were the case, we would have been notified. After all, there are also reasonable people there who understand that it is much more profitable for Olynth to be in alliance with Philip than in enmity.

At this time, a messenger entered the tent. Everyone turned to him.

- Tsar! - he said. Olynthes cheated on you.

Philip flashed his one eye.

The Olynthians sensed danger. They don't trust you. Ambassadors were sent to Athens to ask for help.

“Is that so…?” Philip said in an ominous voice. “So they violated the contract with me?” So much the worse for them. And suddenly he smiled cheerfully. “And so much the better for us. Now they will not be able to scream that Philip is a treacherous ally. I didn't break the contract. If they violated, then we have the right to go to war with them! Now there is only one thing left - to go to Olynthos immediately!

And again, raising the sarissa, Philip's Macedonian phalanxes moved. The earth hummed again under the hooves of the mighty cavalry, wooden structures with rams and crossbow ballists rumbled with wheels, which could throw stones and darts, incendiary and simple arrows into the enemy camp.

Meanwhile, in Athens, on the Pnyx, Demosthenes again spoke out against Philip, passionately urging the Athenians to help Olynthus.

Soon, a scout sent by his supporters came to Philip from Athens. This man brought him a scroll, on which Demosthenes' speech, his First Olynthian, was recorded almost word for word.

- “I think you would give a lot of money, citizens of Athens, in order to know what measures to help the state in the matter that you are now discussing ...”

- So. Now. Here. “... My opinion, at least, is that the issue of helping Olynfu should be resolved immediately and that this help should be sent as soon as possible ...”

- “... Then you need to equip the embassy, ​​which should be at the scene. After all, you have to fear mainly that this person ... "

This man is the king of Macedonia. That's who this person is. Further.

- “... so that this person, capable of everything and able to use circumstances, so that he does not turn the matter in his favor ...”

What rude language!

- “... Indeed, for the Olynthians it is clear that now they are waging war not for the sake of glory and not because of a piece of land, but in order to save the fatherland from destruction and slavery, and they know how he dealt with those of the citizens of Amphipolis who betrayed their city…”

- They know, of course. I killed them first. If they could betray their fellow citizens, would they not betray me?

- "... And with the citizens of Pydna, who let him in to them ..."

“I did the same to them, by Zeus!” How would I then believe them, who betrayed their hometown?

“... If we, the citizens of Athens, leave these people without support, and in this case he will take possession of Olynthus, then what else will prevent him from going where he wants? Let someone answer me ... "

– I myself will answer: no one!

- “... Does any of you, Athenian citizens, consider and imagine how Philip became strong, although he was initially weak? And here's how: first he took Amphipolis, then Pydna, later even Methon ... "

- Under Methone, my eye was gouged out. Not cheaply paid, I swear by Zeus!

- “... Finally entered Thessaly. After that, in Fera, in Pagasi, in Magnesia - in a word, everywhere he arranged the way he wanted, and then he retired to Thrace.

- I remembered everything!

“After that, he got sick. Having barely recovered from his illness, he again did not indulge in carelessness, but immediately made an attempt to subdue the Olynthians ... "

- But how! I don't have extra time.

“... Tell me, for the sake of the gods, who among us is so simple-hearted, who does not understand that the war that is taking place there now will spread here if we do not take our measures? ...”

“By the gods, he's right. But his eloquence is wasted. Among the Athenians, slaves bear all the burdens. They rely only on slaves, and this will destroy them.

However, Philip was mistaken in saying that the Athenians cannot be forced to fight with speeches. The speech of Demosthenes was so ardent and excited that it convinced the People's Assembly. The Athenians soon sent help to Olynthus. They sent thirty triremes to the Olynthians with two thousand mercenary troops, led by the commander Haret.

The war near Olynthos flared up. The leaves were already crumbling, covering the valleys, the autumn winds were humming in the mountains, it began to rain.

“Winter will come, and the war will end,” the Olynthians thought, “during the winter we will get stronger, we will gather a new army. Nobody fights in winter!”

Their hopes were in vain. No one in Hellas fought in the winter. But Philip was not a hindrance to winter. His hardened army could withstand any difficulties and hardships.

Seeing that the Macedonians were not going to leave the walls of the city, the Olynthians once again sent envoys to Athens with a plea for help.

End of Olynthus

A cool wind blew through the Pnyx, bringing dry weeds that rattled like iron from the mountains. The Athenians wrapped themselves in cloaks. And Demosthenes again stood on the podium, crying out for help to Olynthus. The noise of the wind did not bother him. The alarmed Athenians, frowning, listened to him. The indignation of Demosthenes and his hatred for Philip were transmitted to them, agitated them.

- ... What time and what other conditions are waiting for you, the citizens of Athens, more favorable than the present? And when will you do the right thing, if not now? Hasn't this man already occupied all our fortified places? And if he takes possession of this country too, will it not be the greatest shame for us? Aren't the very people now at war whom we so readily promised to save if they start a war? Isn't he an enemy? Does he not own our property? Isn't it a barbarian?

And this speech did that the Athenians again responded to the prayer of the Olynthians. Athens equipped eighteen more ships, sent four thousand mercenaries and one hundred and fifty Athenian horsemen under the command of the commander Haridemus.

The Athenian troops helped stop Philip's victorious march.

The winds were getting sharper and colder. The water froze at night. The Olynthians still hoped that winter would frighten the Macedonians.

But the Macedonians did not retreat. Hot bonfires burned at night, and the colder it became, the harder the autumn rains watered the earth, the higher was the flame of these ominous, red, black smoke bonfires. And again battles. And again the defenders of Olynthos are defeated. And again, the Macedonian stubbornly and relentlessly moves towards Olynthus, conquering the cities lying on the way. Now he took the great city of Thorona. He has already captured Meliberne - the port of Olynthus.

And for the third time this autumn, Demosthenes spoke out on the Pnyx against Philip - it was his Third Olynthian speech, full of passion, hatred and almost despair, full of reproaches to the Athenians for their inaction. But Haridemus sent them boastful reports, and the Athenians decided that victory over Philip was already assured.

Winter passed in battles, in difficult transitions, in the difficult siege of cities, in victories, in the dark joy of robberies, in the smoke of devastated dwellings, in the jubilant cliques of the victors, in the curses of the vanquished ...

Olynth was hard to come by. Philip was furious. He fell seriously ill, almost died; the enemies were already triumphant, rejoicing at his death. But the mighty organism withstood severe suffering. Philip got up and continued his march again.

The winter was harsh. Bone-piercing rains with snow, storms, damp winds carrying severe colds and illnesses. But no one complained in Philip's troops. And at home, in Macedonia, in the heat and in bad weather with herds in the mountains is it easier? Maybe it's easier - they don't kill there. But after all, you won’t get rich there by plundering a conquered city, and you won’t get glory!

Already many roads have been passed, many cities have been taken. Now the sun has warmed up, and the mountains are again dressed in a gentle fog of greenery.

Philip quickly marched his army. On his emaciated, haggard face with a hard mouth, with a deep wrinkle on his forehead, an expression of firm determination was imprinted.

Nothing could stop the Macedonian, and no one could stop him. On the thawed, in some places dried up and green with crops land, Philip's troops approached Olynthus. Before reaching the city, forty stadia from it, Philip pitched his camp.

And then he announced a cruel ultimatum to the Olynthians:

- Either you do not live in Olynthus, or I do not live in Macedonia.

Athens, with difficulty and delay, finally gathered a new army. The commander Haret led seventeen ships, on which were two thousand Athenian hoplites and three hundred horsemen.

While they were gathering, summer passed and autumn came again. The black Athenian ships rocked on the green waves of the Aegean Sea, making their way to Olynthus. They struggled against the nasty wind with all their might. In autumn, trade winds blow in these places, and it is very difficult to sail towards them.

And when the Athenian triremes, exhausted by the sea and the winds, finally approached the Olynthian shore, Olynthus lay in ruins and in the bloody smoke of fires.

Philip without any mercy dealt with Olynthus. The city was destroyed and leveled to the ground. The surviving inhabitants who were sent to the royal mines for hard labor, who were sold into slavery or driven to a settlement in the depths of Macedonia. Only a few managed to escape and take refuge in the Hellenic cities.

Philip distributed the land of the urban quarters of Olynthus to the noble Macedonians. He took the Olynthian cavalry to himself, to his royal cavalry of the Eters.

The remaining cities, ten cities of the Chalkid Union, Philip accepted into the Macedonian state.

This happened in 348 BC, when Alexander was eight years old. Hearing about the new victory of his father, he, sad and gloomy, came to his comrades.

“I swear by Zeus,” he said with annoyance, “my father will have time to conquer everything, and together with you I will not be able to do anything great!”

Persian ambassadors

Once, the ambassadors of the Persian king arrived in Macedonia.

All Pella came out to watch them. The Persians sat solemnly on horses, on horse blankets embroidered with gold, sparkling with precious weapons, blinding with the luxury of long clothes - red, green, blue ... Everything about these people was unusual for the Macedonians, everything surprised: both bronze-skinned faces, and red from henna, finely curled beards, and eyes frightening with unearthly blackness ...

The royal palace was in turmoil. Ambassadors have arrived, but who will receive them? There is no king, the king, as almost always, is on a campaign ...

"But am I not at home too?" - Alexander asked arrogantly and announced: - I will receive the ambassadors.

The ambassadors washed up from the road, rested. And when they were ready to talk, Alexander, dressed in his richest dress, received them with all the dignity of a royal son.

Elderly people, courtiers and advisers to the Persian king looked at each other, hiding a smile. What will this little king's son talk to them about? Of course, there will be some baby talk. Well, in anticipation of a real conversation with Philip, you can listen to children's chatter.


“Our country is very large,” replied the red-bearded old Persian who headed the embassy.


Alexander was sitting in his father's chair, his legs did not reach the floor. But he was calm and royally friendly - blond, light-eyed, all pink with hidden excitement. Large, cumbersomely dressed swarthy people, with a smile in their mysterious black eyes, silently waited for what he would say to them.

“I want to know everything about your country,” Alexander said, slightly frowning his rounded blond eyebrows. - How big is your country?

The ambassadors exchanged glances. Well, the boy asks a serious question, which means that the answer must be serious.

“Our country is very large,” replied the red-bearded old Persian who headed the embassy. “Our kingdom extends from Egypt to Taurus and from the Mediterranean to the ocean that surrounds the whole earth. Under the mighty hand of our great king there are many countries and peoples, not to count the cities. Even the Hellenic cities that stand on the Asian coast - Miletus, Ephesus and all other Hellenic colonies - pay tribute to our great king.

- Are the roads good in your country? If your kingdom is so big, then the roads must be long? Do you have such long roads to drive all over the country?

- We have a good road - a trade road through Lydia to India itself. Merchants carry goods along it.

- And what is your main city, where does your king live?

“Our great king has three capitals. During the summer he lives in Ecbatany. There are mountains all around, it's cold. Then he moves to Persepolis - this city was founded two hundred years ago by our great king Cyrus. Then our great king leaves for Babylon, where he lives for a long time. The city is very rich, cheerful, beautiful. Once upon a time, our great king Cyrus conquered it and took it from the Babylonians.

- And how, on what roads to get to the capital of your king in Ecbatana? Is it possible on horseback? Or do you need camels? I heard that you have camels.

- If the king of Macedonia wishes to come to visit our great king, then he can ride on a horse. This road is straight and wide. Everywhere along the road there are royal camps, beautiful little palaces, where there is everything for recreation: swimming pools, and bedrooms, and halls for feasting. The road passes through a populated country and is completely safe.

- And your king - what is he like in the war? Very brave?

– How could timid kings take possession of such a huge power?

- Do you have a large army? How do you fight? Do you also have phalanges? And do you have ballistas? And rams?

The Persians were somewhat confused. The little son of the king of Macedonia led them to a dead end. Without understanding how, they found themselves almost in the position of scammers about their own state.

The old Persian answered this vaguely and evasively. His speech slowed down, he carefully chose his words, and it was not clear whether he was telling the truth or not. Flattering speeches, but the meaning? ...

They, the Persians, have great respect for the king of Macedonia. But once the Macedonian kings also served the Persian kings. One could tell Alexander a lot about how the Macedonian king Alexander, his ancestor, served the Persian king Xerxes, how the Persian troops passed through Macedonia, devastating everything in their path: cities, villages, stocks of bread and water, which even in the rivers they often lacked The rivers drank dry. But be careful! Here sitting in front of them is not such a child, in front of whom one can speak out without embarrassment. His father - Tsar Philip becomes a major figure, and he has to be reckoned with. And even now little Alexander seemed dangerous to the Persian.

“Philip is, without a doubt, a well-deservedly illustrious commander,” the ambassadors said to each other when Alexander left them, “but his son, if from this age he asks such questions, as if he is considering in advance how to conquer our kingdom, what will become of him?” When will he grow up to be king?

Alexander came to his mother something embarrassed. Olympias, radiant, proud of her son, met him with a warm embrace.

My Alexander! My future king!

Alexander, still frowning, freed himself from her arms.

“Do you know what the Persian told me?

- Did he offend you?

- No. But he said that once the king of Macedonia, Alexander served the Persians. Is it true?

“That is both true and false,” Olympias replied thoughtfully. The Persians were forced to submit. There were so many of them that it was impossible to count. How could Macedonia resist them? After all, the Persians even ruined and burned Athens. But Tsar Alexander only pretended to serve them - if there is no strength to throw the enemy off your neck, you have to be cunning, as your father often does. But in fact, Tsar Alexander, as he could, helped the Hellenes. I know a story about him, once your father told it to me.

Alexander settled himself comfortably and, looking straight into his mother's eyes, prepared to listen.

- It was on the night when the Athenians were going to fight the Persians near the city of Plataea. The Persians were commanded by Mardonius, a very brave general and a very cruel man. Tsar Alexander was in his camp as a conquered ally. And it so happened that Alexander with his army came along with the Persians to ruin the Hellenes. What was he to do, what to do if the Persians forced him to fight against Athens?

“I would have killed Mardonius!”

“He was guarded by a large retinue. And what's the point? You would have killed Mardonius, and Xerxes would have put another commander in his place. You could only die and do nothing to help your own. Alexander acted differently. He learned that Mardonius was going to fight the next morning. Mardonius wanted to attack them at dawn. It was necessary to warn the Athenians so that the Persians would not take them by surprise. And at night, when the whole camp fell asleep, Alexander slowly mounted his horse and rushed to the Athenians.

“What if they saw him?”

“Caught and killed. And they would have killed all the Macedonians. So, when he rode there, the Athenians were also sleeping. But he said to the guard:

"Alexander, the leader and king of Macedonia, wishes to speak with the military leaders."

The guards, by his royal armament, by his clothes, saw that this was really a king, and ran to wake their leaders. The leaders have arrived.

And when they were left alone, Alexander said: “I entrust this message to you, citizens of Athens, with a request to keep it secret so that you do not destroy me. I would not report it if the fate of Hellas did not concern me so much; after all, I myself am of ancient Hellenic origin and would not want to see Hellas enslaved. Mardonius decided to start the battle at dawn, because he is afraid that you will gather in even greater numbers. Get ready for it. If Mardonius postpones the battle, then you hold out and do not retreat, because they have only a few days of supplies left. If the war ends the way you want, you must remember me and my release, because for the sake of the Hellenes I decided on such a dangerous business. I am Alexander, king of Macedonia."

So he told the Athenians all this and rode back. And he took his post from the Persians, as if he had not left anywhere. This is how Tsar Alexander "served" the Persians!

“So he served the Athenians?”

- Yes. Served the Athenians.

- And when the battle began, against whom did he fight - against the Persians?

- No. Still against the Athenians.

Alexander thought, wrinkling his forehead.

“Then whose ally was he?” Persians or Hellenes?

Olympias sighed.

- When you have a small country and a weak army, you have to serve both of them ... But in reality, he served only his Macedonia.

So he was two-faced! Alexander said angrily. - He was a defector.

- You can say that. But he kept the kingdom!

- But still he fought against his own, against the Hellenes! No, I won't do that.

Discord in Hellas

Hellenic states were constantly at war with each other. Thebes, who rose under Epaminondas, defeated Sparta and Phocis. Both Sparta and Phocis suffered many misfortunes, their lands were plundered, their troops were defeated.

But this was not enough for Thebes who defeated them. At a meeting of the council of representatives of the Hellenic states - the Amphictions - Thebes accused Sparta of having occupied the Theban fortress of Cadmeia during the truce - this was in 382. And to the Phocians - that during the war they devastated Boeotia, which belongs to Thebes.

The decision was made by the winners, and the accused were sentenced to such a large fine that they were unable to pay.

The Phocians were sentenced to give their land to the Delphic temple for non-payment of a fine: the lands of Phokis and the Delphic sanctuary lay side by side. The Phocians lost everything - they did not have a homeland.

Then the Phocians plundered the temple of Apollo, where huge wealth was kept. With this Delphic gold they hired an army and rushed to war against Thebes, which brought them to sacrilege and despair. On the side of Thebes, the Thessalians fought against the Phocians.

This war, which was called sacred, dragged on. The Fokidians were cursed for their wicked act. And at the same time sorry. If not for Thebes, the Phocians would never have dared to plunder the national sanctuary. And regretting, Athens and Sparta sent their detachments to the aid of the Phocians.

The Fokian army was commanded by Philomelos, a brave and skillful military leader. It was difficult to deal with him.

Philip vigilantly followed the affairs in Hellas.

“Let me and my army fight Philomelos,” he turned to Thebes. “I want to punish the Fokians!” And I can do it!

But Athens rebelled against this proposal:

- Philip does not so much need to fight with the Phocians, how much to enter through Thermopylae into the middle of Hellas. And this is dangerous. An ally like Philip cannot be trusted.

And the Athenians, having driven warships to the coast, closed Thermopylae from Philip.

This was back in 353.

Now it's a different time. A lot has changed. Philip's strength increased enormously.

The war with the Phocians was still dragging on. The leader of the Phocians, Philomelo, was killed in battle. They chose another leader - Onomarch, no less experienced and no less brave. Both Thebes and Thessaly are tired of this war. The Council of Amphictyons, in order to put an end to the Phocians, has now decided to entrust the command of this war to the Macedonian king.

So Philip got his way. He announced that he was not going to avenge the Thebans. No, he goes to punish Phocis for sacrilege, for insulting God. Today, no one blocked the Thermopylae passage for him. He passed through Thermopylae and entered Phocis. Before the battle, he ordered the soldiers to wear laurel wreaths - wreaths from the branches of a tree dedicated to the offended god Apollo. The Phocians trembled when they saw an army crowned with laurels. It seemed to them that the very god they had robbed had turned against them. They lost their courage...

Philip dealt with Phocis cruelly. She was wiped off the face of the earth and excluded from the council of the Amphictyons - from the council of states guarding the sanctuary. The place of the Phocians in the council, Philip demanded for himself. At the council, they were forced to make a decision: to accept Philip among the Amphictyons and give him the votes of the Phocians.

Having arranged all this, Philip sent ambassadors to Athens: let Athens also recognize this decision. When Philip was introduced to the council, there were no representatives of Athens among the Amphictyons.

This time even Demosthenes, who still hated Philip, advised him to yield to him.

"Not because it's right," he said bitterly. “It is even unfair for a Macedonian to participate in the Hellenic council. But I fear lest Athens otherwise be compelled to wage war with all the cities at once. In addition, Philip has already passed through Thermopylae and now he can invade Attica. It is more advantageous to keep peace than to incur such a danger.

So said Demosthenes.

However, he himself never wanted to come to terms with the growing power of Philip. He still spoke against him with his angry speeches, which were later called "Philippics". With all the strength of his talent, his rare eloquence, he defended the Athenian Republic from the king.

But Philip also had supporters in Athens. There was a Macedonian party, which believed that it would be much better for Hellas if such a strong man with an iron will as Philip united it. Hellas is exhausted from internecine wars, the Hellenic cities are constantly fighting among themselves, taking away all the forces of the country. And only one thing can be done to save Hellas - to recognize Philip as a leader, to unite and, under his command, turn their weapons against a long-standing and formidable enemy - against the Persians.

The leader of this party was Isocrates, the famous Athenian orator. His dream was to unite all the Hellenic states into one union, and put Athens at the head.

“Our Athenian state,” he said, “is undoubtedly recognized as the greatest and most glorious in the world!

Isocrates called for organizing a holy campaign against the Persian king in order to take revenge on the Persians for all the troubles caused to Hellas, to seize Persian lands and settle there all the Athenian landless poor.

Isocrates himself owned large tracts of land. Perhaps he was secretly disturbed by the thought that all this Athenian poor would suddenly take it into his head to take away their land from the landowners. So isn’t it better to get rid of this squalor by settling away from Athens?…

Isocrates insisted on this - we must go to war against the Persians. But who can lead the united Hellenic army?

Philip of Macedon. Because in Hellas there are no generals like him. And those Hellenes who could take up this business either died or were killed in the endless wars of the Hellenic states.

Aeschines, a former actor, also spoke for Philip. His speech was captivating, although not very deep. Demosthenes hated Aeschines for defending Philip. The speeches of Isocrates also revolted him. How can you allow that insolent and deceitful Philip to become their military leader, so that this barbarian becomes the leader of their Hellenic army!

“On the contrary, it is necessary to conclude an alliance with the Persian king,” said Demosthenes, “to persuade Thebes to an alliance with Athens and, united, oppose Macedonia and defeat Philip.

Among the Athenian orators there was another ardent political figure“Evbul, a very rich man. He also stood by Philip's side. When Demosthenes called for war with Macedonia, Eubulus argued that there was no need to fight with Macedonia.

Eubulus was in charge of the cash desk of Athens. He increased the distribution of money to the people: every Athenian, who has neither land nor income, received money from the state for life and for spectacles. The people were pleased with the law that Eubul passed. Wealthy slave owners are happy because this money was taken from the military budget, and not from them. And the poor were happy because now they received more money.

And when Demosthenes, in his Third Olynthian speech, began to prove that it was impossible to spend the money needed for armaments on spectacles, they did not want to listen to him. And so that it would be discourteous to oppose this decision, Eubulus proposed a special law: if anyone else opposes, then the death penalty.

I did not agree with Demosthenes when he smashed Philip in his speeches, and the old orator Focion. He had been a military leader for a long time and now he well understood that Macedonia was much stronger than them and that there was no point in fighting Philip.

All these speakers were of an ardent nature and often in their discussions reached the point of furious abuse.

“Aeschines is an unscrupulous and accursed sycophant,” Demosthenes shouted, “a cheapskate, a screamer in the market place, a miserable clerk!” He is a shoddy and worthless person by nature, he is the culprit of the death of people, regions, states! Aeschines is a fox, a real tragic monkey, leading the life of a hare, a damned evil man!

“Demosthenes is a treacherous creature,” Aeschines shouted in turn, “a slavish nature, a sycophant, a chatterer, an half-blooded citizen, a worthless person from all Hellenes, a shameless, ungrateful deceiver and scoundrel!

So, while in Athens the orators spoke endlessly, who was for Philip, who was against, shouted and scolded, Philip at that time fought in Illyria and seized more and more new lands, new cities.

Finally, it was decided to conclude a general peace. Philip's messengers came to Athens for this.

Philip's ambassador Pithon said:

- The Macedonian king intends to provide great benefits to Athens and is ready to listen to Athenian proposals.

The Athenians replied:

“Both sides should have what has always been rightfully theirs. The rest of the Hellenic states should be free and autonomous. And if they are attacked, they must be helped.

The Macedonians could not agree with this. If such conditions are accepted, then Philip will have to give up the entire Thracian and Macedonian coast, which he captured, and return all the conquered cities.

Philip's ambassadors, without agreeing on anything, left for home.

Philip healed the wound. He returned from Illyria with his right collarbone broken by a spear. The king did not like to be sick, did not tolerate inactivity. But he could not hold a sword or a sarissa in his hand now.

Life in the palace was as noisy as it always was when Philip returned home. Now he was full of guests: Athenian actors, musicians, philosophers, scientists arrived in Pella.

Philip was brave in battle, unrestrained at a feast. But, perfectly educated for his time, he loved music, appreciated literature, conversations with learned people gave him pleasure. Philip introduced Hellenic customs, Hellenic culture, Hellenic language into his rather wild country.

Macedonian kings have long sought to attract to their court wonderful people Hellas. Melanipides, a dithyrambic poet from the island of Melos, once lived in Macedonia, the best lyricist of his time. The great physician Hippocrates also came here.

Tsar Archelaus, Philip's grandfather, widely and cordially invited philosophers and writers to his place. Sophocles declined his invitation. Socrates did not go to Macedonia either. But the tragedian Agathon, the epic poet Hoiril, the musician and poet Timothy, the artist Zeuxis - all of them lived for a long time with this enlightened and active king. The great Euripides spent the last years of his life with him and died in Macedonia.

Philip received distinguished people with the same generosity.

The days were fun, colorful, varied. Either a play was played out, or scientists, friends of Philip, had fascinating conversations on the most various themes, then the singers sang to the gentle ringing of cithara ...

The royal megaron was always crowded with young people, the children of noble Macedonians. Philip liked it: let them learn, develop, cultivate their taste. Alexander with his comrades and friends was invariably present at his evenings. And always next to him was his best friend, handsome curly Hephaestion.

One day, shortly after the midday meal, the Thessalian Philonikos came to the palace.

Thessaly was famous for its cavalry. In vast valleys and plains, rich in pastures, the Thessalians raised horses of extraordinary beauty and endurance. They themselves, brave riders, did not part with the horse either on campaigns or in peacetime. That is why the legend arose in antiquity that centaurs lived in the valleys of Thessaly.

“King, I brought you a horse,” Philonik said.

– A horse? But don't I have horses?

“You don’t have and never will.

Philip chuckled. Surrounded by guests, he went out into the yard.

The sun had already fallen to the west, but its rays were still hot and dazzling.

Alexander's heart began to beat when he saw the horse. It was a magnificent black horse with fiery eyes and a white star on its forehead.

“His name is Bukefal,” said the Thessalian. See how wide his forehead is? Like a bull. I will not praise: he does not need praise.

The horse did not need praise. He danced, he did not have the patience to stand still. Muscles played under his shiny coat.

“How much do you want for your Bukefal?” Philip asked.

- Thirteen talents.

“Thirteen talents for one horse?”

Yes, for one horse. But there is only one like this.

“Let’s see how he is on the run.

They went to test the horse in the field, on a wide green plain flooded with the sun.

A young cavalryman from the king's retinue approached Bukefal, seized him by the bridle, and led him out onto the plain. But when he wanted to sit on it, Bukefal reared up with a wild neigh and recoiled to the side. Eter shouted at the horse, trying to pacify, tightening the bridle. But from this the horse fell into a rage and every time, as soon as the rider intended to jump on him, he reared up.

Another ether came up, more experienced, more severe. But no matter how much he fought with Bukefal, the horse did not submit to him either.

Philip began to frown. If not for the wound, he would have tried to tame the horse himself. And the eters went out to Bukefal one after another and returned without having achieved anything.

Philip got angry.

“Get your horse out of here,” he said to the Thessalian, “it’s completely wild!”

Here Alexander could not stand it:

“What kind of horse are these people losing just because, due to their own cowardice and awkwardness, they cannot tame it!”

Philip glared at him, but said nothing. The young Macedonian Eters were embarrassed. They tried another or two to cope with the horse. And they couldn't.

- Eh, - Alexander said again with annoyance, - what kind of horse are you losing, and only because you don’t know how to ride and are a coward!

Philip shouted at him:

“You reproach your elders, as if you understand them better or know how to handle a horse better than they!”

“At least I can handle this better than anyone else!”

“And if you don’t succeed, what punishment will you suffer for your insolence?”

“By Zeus, I will pay what a horse costs!”

Everyone around laughed.

- Well, - said Philip, - we bet on thirteen talents!

- We argue!

Alexander immediately rushed to Bukefal. Firmly grasping the bridle, he set the horse against the sun: Alexander saw that the horse was frightened by his shadow, which was rushing about in front of him on the grass.

Then he allowed him to run and himself ran beside him, not letting go of the bridle, and all the time gently stroking the horse, reassuring him. And when he saw that Bukefal had calmed down, was breathing deeply and evenly, Alexander threw off his cloak and jumped onto his horse. The horse took off. At first, Alexander slightly restrained him, pulling on the reins, and when he felt that the horse was eager to run, he gave him free rein, and even shouted at him, hitting his sides with his heels. The horse, throwing up its head, flew like a bird across the green plain.

Philip's eyebrows twitched and closed. All around were silent, holding their breath, gripped by anxiety and fear. Alexander left their eyes, disappearing into the sultry haze of the valley. It seemed that he would now disappear completely and never return.

Several terrible moments passed. And now, in the distance, the rider on the black horse appeared again. The horse ran beautifully, as if flying on invisible wings, and the boy sat on it like a glove - shining, proud, triumphant.

The royal retinue screamed, welcoming Alexander. And Philip teared up.

When Alexander jumped off his horse, Philip hugged him and kissed him.

“Seek, my son, a kingdom of your own,” he said, “Macedonia is too small for you.

Aristotle

Although Philip was little at home, he vigilantly followed the development and upbringing of his son.

The older Alexander became, the more seriously Philip thought: whom to invite to Alexander as a teacher? Alexander is taught music, recitation. He reads a lot. He is only thirteen years old, and he already shoots a bow, throws a spear, rides a horse like the most experienced horseman. And he runs so that none of his comrades can catch up with him ...

But all this is superficial and primitive compared to what real Hellenic culture can give a person. Philip himself was well educated and wanted his son to receive the same education and, if possible, even better.

Who to invite? The character of his son is such that not everyone can cope with him - ardent, wayward. Looking at his proud posture, hearing his often obstinate speeches, Philip more than once muttered the words of Sophocles into his mustache: “... A helm is needed here and a firm bridle.”

Once Philip happened to meet with the Atarney king Hermias, who was his ally.

Between business conversations Philip asked if Hermias knew a worthy teacher who could be invited to Alexander.

- I know! Hermias responded briskly. – My friend and relative Aristotle can be such a worthy teacher.

Aristotle! Now Philip remembered him too. Aristotle's father, Nicomachus, once lived in Macedonia at the court of King Amyntas, Philip's father.

- Aristotle? So we grew up with him! Yes, this person will be a good teacher and educator. I have already heard about him, about his wisdom, about his learning!

Aristotle at that time lived in the city of Mytilene, on Lesbos. Philip's messengers came to him with an invitation to Pella.

Aristotle was then very busy: he observed the life of marine animals and wrote a book about them. The island, washed by the transparent blue water of the Aegean Sea, was very suitable for him for his studies.

But he could not refuse Philip. I was drawn to familiar places, illuminated by bright memories of the days of youth, when the world seemed mysterious and beautiful. What does Philip look like now? He was tall, handsome and very fond of military science. And not without reason - Philip became a conqueror. How he used to laugh at Aristotle, who was always thinking about incomprehensible things: about the structure of the Universe, where does the sun go and where does it come from, what do the stars hold on to?

Many years have passed since then. Aristotle understood a lot, thought of a lot, learned a lot.

And Philip conquered many cities, conquered many peoples. Well, everyone does their own thing.

Aristotle, without hesitation, got ready to go and went to Pella.

Alexander waited with hidden excitement for a new teacher. When the hooves of horses clattered on the stone slabs in the courtyard, Alexander stepped out of the megaron and stood under the portico. He wanted to see Aristotle before he saw him.

The people who accompanied Aristotle helped the scientist get off his horse - it was clear that this smartly dressed, short man was not very dexterous in handling horses.

He was forty years old. Hook-nosed face with a very small mouth. Bald patches are already visible on a wide forehead with wrinkles, a blond beard is neatly trimmed ...

Aristotle brushed off his scarlet cloak with a black border, straightened the golden chain on his chest, looked around and immediately saw Alexander. Alexander blushed and stepped forward. They looked at each other for a second. It seemed to Alexander that the small dark blue eyes of Aristotle looked into the very depths of his soul, his thoughts ...

Before the student and the teacher had time to say a word, Philip came out into the yard. He met Aristotle with the most gracious of all his smiles, embraced him and kissed him.

On this day, they sat for a long time in the megaron with goblets of wine, recalling the days of their distant youth. Aristotle changed for dinner. He combed thinning strands of curled hair over his forehead to hide his bald patches. On his hands sparkled rings with large precious stones. Aristotle watched his appearance and liked to dress magnificently.

How did you remember me? asked Aristotle. – There are many scientists in Hellas. For example, great philosopher Plato. I myself wanted to study with him, but when I arrived in Athens, it turned out that he went to Sicily.

- Ah, Plato! Philip chuckled. - A philosopher who claims that man is a bipedal and featherless animal ... I heard that Diogenes brought him a plucked rooster and said: "Here is Plato's man!"

Both laughed.

“But it seems to me that it is more consonant with your ethos, Philip.

– My ethos – my character? Why?

- You are the king. And you will understand it. “A huge crowd is ridiculous,” he says, “which thinks that it can judge well what is harmonious and rhythmic and what is not.”

- He is right. This is why Athens loses battles because the mob rules there.

“Greeks lose battles because they are divided. If the Hellenes were one whole state, they could rule over the entire universe.

“As long as they unite—and this will never happen—I will conquer the universe.

“Yes, I have heard of your…so to speak…brilliant deeds.” By the way, you ruined Stagira, the homeland of my fathers.

Philip made a sad face.

“Yes,” he sighed, “I ruined Stagira. And I'm very sorry. What was to be done? The city resisted. But what I ruined, I can restore. - And changed the conversation: - So you ask why I invited you? Firstly, because the fame of your learning is already spreading widely throughout Hellas. Secondly, your father was my father's friend, and you were my friend. Thirdly, I was advised to turn to you by Hermias, the king of Atarne, because at one time you lived with him. And you seem to be related to him?

Aristotle lowered his eyes, as if looking at the wine glowing in a golden bowl.

“The unfortunate Hermias is dead. You know about it?

- I know. The Persians took him to Susa. They were tortured and then executed.

– For the connection with you, Philip.

- For the connection with me! .. I am the king in my kingdom. He was king in his kingdom. All kingdoms communicate with each other in one way or another!

“But he was accused of conspiring with you against Persia.

Philip shrugged indignantly.

- What are you talking about?! I don't know about any conspiracy!

Aristotle looked at him carefully. Philip's single eye, as blue as the sky, shone with sincere bewilderment.

But Aristotle saw that Philip was frankly deceiving him.

- Well, how is your penchant for philosophy? Philip changed the conversation again. Has she done you a great favor in your life?

“Perhaps she did me the greatest service,” Aristotle replied thoughtfully. – This science helps to think, reflect, observe… What do you want me to teach your son?

- Everything you know. And most importantly - bring him up as a real Hellene.

“But how else, Philip? Hellenes remain Hellenes. And barbarians are barbarians. And you can't forget this.

“That's something else that interests me very much,” Philip said. - How do you look at the structure of the state? Maybe you are a democrat, Aristotle?

“I think, Philip,” Aristotle answered cautiously, “that the best state structure is a small polis, that is, a city state in which the first place belongs to the middle strata of the population - neither very rich nor very poor. After all, a good state strives most of all to ensure that everyone in it is equal and the same ...

“So you think the monarchy is an unnatural political system?”

Philip waited tensely for an answer.

- I think that the monarchy is a normal system, - Aristotle said evasively, - I consider tyranny to be an abnormal system. Tyranny is an unnatural system. After all, a tyrant must always watch his subjects: what they are doing, what they are talking about ... He has to arouse mutual enmity among his subjects so that this enmity does not turn against him. The tyrant ruins his subjects in order to maintain a guard for himself, and so that the people, busy with the cares of their daily subsistence, do not have the leisure to plot against their ruler.

“I'm glad you don't blame the monarchy. What was Macedonia before me? What would she be if she didn't have a king like me? Now, in terms of military power, who can compare with my state?

- That's right, Philip. But if a state pays attention only to the training of its military forces, then it holds on as long as it wages wars, and perishes as soon as it reaches dominance: in times of peace, such states lose their temper, like steel. Think about it.

Philip thought.

“Let’s decide this, Aristotle,” he said later, “teach my son various sciences, like a king.” But drill him like a commoner. And I will teach him to manage the state myself.

That same evening there was a great feast in the palace, which lasted until dawn. Philip let himself go. He drank heavily, laughed out loud at the rude buffoonery of street mimes, noisily greeted the flutists and dancers who entertained the guests.

The smoke and smoke of the hearth, the ringing of citharas and the whistle of flutes, uncoordinated songs, screams, laughter ... And the king and his guests selflessly rejoiced. Aristotle looked at them thoughtfully, occasionally sipping his cup.

Thirteen-year-old Alexander, despite Leonid's demands to go to the bedroom, sat at the table, sullenly looking at this unbridled fun. Aristotle went up to him, put his hand on his shoulder. Alexander stood up, his lips trembling.

– Do you like it, Alexander?

- Why are you sitting here?

“I want to understand why my father prefers them all—and these flute players—to my mother?”

Let's go, Alexander. No one has yet been able to answer such questions.

Aristotle easily proved to Philip that he and Alexander needed to leave Pella somewhere.

- The noisy life of your yard will interfere with classes.

Philip willingly agreed with him. He himself was embarrassed by the presence of his son at his feasts.

Philip settled them not far from Pella, in the small town of Miese on the Strymon River.

It seemed to Alexander that he had escaped from a stuffy, cramped nest on Fresh air, at will. Instead of the noise of father's carbon feasts - the silvery noise of the river, wide and fast; instead of the city walls that close the horizon, there are the peaks of the Kabun mountains, dressed in forests. And if you turn your face to the south, then before your eyes, high in the sky, the white head of Olympus will shine, covered with eternal snow ... No matter how hot it is, crystal coolness always blows from Olympus. Alexander enjoyed this coolness: he had very hot skin from birth. It was said that this property is what makes him so quick-tempered.

There was complete silence in this peaceful corner. Only the wind rustled in the forests, and the birds sang, and a small waterfall rang somewhere in the gorge. It was quiet even in Miez itself, with its small mud houses surrounded by stone walls. These walls made the street blind and deserted; all life passed in the yards - they lived there, cooked food, raised children.

There were few men left in the villages: Philip took into his troops everyone who was able to hold weapons. There were old people, women, children. But they did not leave the land unsown. In the valley, especially along the banks of the Strymon, wheat and mustachioed barley were growing in the rich fields, juicy lashes of peas were pouring ... On the slopes of the mountains, covered with thick grass to the very edge of the forest, herds grazed: horses, cows, sheep, goats ... It was dangerous to rise above the herds : The forests were full of beasts. Wild boars roamed the mountains, wolves, bears, leopards. Even lions were found there. They say that they attacked the camels when the troops of King Xerxes passed through the Macedonian forests.

End of introductory segment.

* * *

The following excerpt from the book Son of Zeus (L. F. Voronkova, 1971) provided by our book partner -

The name of the remarkable Russian writer Lyubov Fedorovna Voronkova is known in many countries of the world - so great is the popularity of her books.

The writer knew the secret of the living word. Because everything in her books lives, breathes, sounds. The voices of birds and animals, forest rustles, the murmur of a stream are heard in them. A firefly flashlight glows with a quiet light. And if you lie low, you can see how the awakened flower spreads its petals. And the people in her works live like in real life - they work, think, feel sad and happy, help each other. Everything is true there.

Where did the living word come from?

First of all, from the village childhood.

Lyubov Fedorovna was born in Moscow in 1906. But later her family moved to a small village near Moscow, and this period of life turned out to be very important for the writer, which influenced the nature of her work. There, in the village, she developed the habit of constant, patient work. The beauty of Russian nature was revealed. And she reached for her pen in order to express her love for the land and working people in poetry and prose.

Already an adult, she returned to Moscow and became a journalist. She traveled a lot around the country and wrote about life in the countryside: this topic was close to her.

In 1940, her first book, Shurka, was published. Then came "The Girl from the City", "Sunny Day", "Geese Swans". These books, which have become classics of children's literature, speak of the main thing: love for the Motherland, respect for work, human kindness and responsiveness. Also, it's about getting over yourself. The man is scared, but he goes to take trouble away from someone. Of course, such a person will grow up strong in spirit and, when necessary, will be capable of a feat.

Each of the characters created by the imagination of the writer was close and dear to her in her own way. And yet, more than others, she loved Valentine from the book "The Girl from the City." She pitied her for her war-deprived childhood.

The story "The Girl from the City" was written during the war years, but still touches the hearts of children and adults, because it tells not only about a great disaster, but also about the great kindness of the people, which helps to endure in difficult times, restores faith in life.

The book "Geese-swans" will not leave anyone indifferent. She is a little sad, but life is not only filled with joys. Sometimes it happens to be sad and grieve, especially when close people do not understand you, besides those with whom you want to be friends. So it was with the village girl Aniska. Her subtle movements of the soul and actions that were unexpected at first glance seemed strange and incomprehensible to those around her, which brought her a lot of grief and made her suffer.

Aniska is a complex, poetic character, and by creating it, the writer seemed to reveal to her reader a secret about a person, that he is not always what he seems, and one must be able to see the best in him, hidden from a superficial glance. And about how rich the inner world of a person is and how beautiful it is! But only a sensitive heart can see and understand this.

Lyubov Fyodorovna had a big, sensitive, sympathetic heart. And her house resembled a magical land where all sorts of miracles happen. Her books were written there. Her friends were there. There she, like a real witch, talked with her flowers, as if those living beings. And early in the morning, the voices of the guests of the balcony woke her up there: sparrows, tits, two conspicuous jackdaws, pigeons. She fed the birds, grumbling good-naturedly at them for their brisk talkativeness.

But flowers and birds - all this was just an introduction to the main miracle: the arrival of the heroes of future books.

They appeared - some quietly, some noisily, in accordance with their character. And she, discarding all earthly worries, sat down at her desk. The most ordinary table, at which it is comfortable to sit with friends, talk heart to heart with them, drink tea. But it will be later. And now began the witchcraft over the manuscript. And so every morning, her bright, inviolable time, devoted to work. And every morning - three pages. Otherwise, do not have time to write everything that is planned. “We have to work, work,” she kept repeating. “There is life and joy in our work.”

Writing for her was the highest joy.

In recent years, Lyubov Fedorovna wrote historical stories and novels. For her herself, such a seemingly abrupt transition from today's day into the depths of centuries was not accidental. Plutarch, Pausanias, Thucydides, Herodotus became her favorite reading for a long time already. In the chosen genre, the words of the “father of history” Herodotus served as a kind of parting word to her, who wrote his works, “... so that from time to time the deeds of people would not be erased from the memory and great and surprisingly worthy deeds would not be ingloriously forgotten ...”

For a very long time, Lyubov Fedorovna did not dare to take up her first historical book. What she wrote about before was her native element: everything is familiar, everything is close and understandable, everything could be looked at with your own eyes. And how to see what has already passed, sunk irrevocably into eternity? There is no such train that would bring in the past, where the people lived, about whom she wanted to tell in the planned book.

She stood as if in front of a closed door leading to unfamiliar worlds. It was necessary to diligently prepare for a meeting with them. And she got ready. She studied the mountains of historical materials, completely immersed herself in the era she was going to write about.

That's when the mysterious door opened, and the writer found herself in the 6th century BC, when the Persian king Cyrus lived. Her first historical story was about him. Then she looked into even earlier centuries, when the Messenian wars were going on.

If in the story “Trace of the Fiery Life” the center of attention is King Cyrus, his unusual fate, then in the “Messenian Wars” the main character is a whole people from the small country of Messenia, who courageously fought for freedom and independence. Forced to leave their country, wandering for three hundred years in foreign lands, this people did not forget either their language or the customs of their homeland. And we, despite the remoteness of the era, are close to the thoughts and deeds of the Messenians, who glorified themselves through the ages with their heroic struggle for freedom and their devoted love for their homeland.

In history, L.F. Voronkova was attracted by strong and unusual characters that influenced the course of historical events. Therefore, she turned to the image of Alexander the Great (356-323 BC). So her two books appeared: “Son of Zeus” - about the childhood and youth of the Macedonian king and “In the depths of centuries” - about his conquests and the creation of a state that included the lands of Europe and Asia.

Before starting to create a novel about Alexander the Great, she read many books about him and the era in which he lived, studied serious scientific works devoted to him, and when it came time to write a chapter about his campaigns in Central Asia, she went to those parts to find additional material for your book there.

She visited Samarkand, or Marakanda, as this city was called during the time of Alexander the Great, through which the famous commander passed with his troops in 329 BC and severely destroyed it. She was in Bukhara and in its environs, which were once part of the country known under the name of Sogdiana. There, the Sogdians, led by Spitamen, offered desperate resistance to Alexander the Great - touching pages are devoted to this event in the book “In the depths of centuries”.

She wandered through the narrow streets of the ancient cities of Uzbekistan, peering into the faces of people, and admired their beauty, proud posture, seeing in each of them the descendants of those Sogds who were headed by Spitamen.

Thoughtfully, with interest, she entered the previously unfamiliar world of the East and looked at everything through the eyes of an artist. She memorized the color of the sky and the color of the desert at different times of the year, looked at the mountains for a long time in the evening dawn and at dawn, admired the flowering gardens and the bright, indescribable colors of autumn. After all, as in the time of Alexander the Great, here the sun was just as sultry, the winds blew just as dryly, the hot sands did not change their color, the mountain peaks were still covered with eternal snow, and the sky did not lose its brightest blue.


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