A Murder in Thebes (Alexander the Great 2) Read Online Free PDF Page A

warned the leaders of the rashness of their course of action, but who was she? They dismissed
     her as a garrulous old priestess. True, she’d had her dreams, but what had one called her? A silly Cassandra? They should
     have believed their Cassandra that Thebes, like Troy, was about to fall. She’d heard of insults shouted at Macedonians from
     the city walls; she’d also listened to the travelers and merchants who came here to make votive offerings. How Alexander would
     brook no opposition, determined to prove that he was a better general than his father. Indeed, that he was a god incarnate.
     Jocasta bowed her head and led the praises to Apollo and the other guardians of Thebes. Her sisters, the other priestesses,
     answered, but their words werefaltering. At the end, Antigone who, despite her youth, was impetuous in her speech, leaned back on her heels.
    “Mother what shall we do?” she pleaded. “The Macedonians are in the city.”
    “Alexander will spare the shrine,” Jocasta snapped.
    “He will take the Crown, Mother,” Antigone declared. “He knows the legends.”
    “It can only be worn by the pure of heart,” Jocasta retorted, lifting her head, “and one who is touched and blessed by the
     gods. If the Crown is to be Alexander’s then it will be Alexander’s.”
    “Shall we help him?” another asked. “Mother, shouldn’t we take the Crown and offer it to him?”
    “That would be blasphemy and sacrilege,” Jocasta said. “The Crown is removed only once a year, worn by the chief priestess,
     blessed, and returned. If Alexander wishes it, he must take it according to the ritual.”
    “But that would be easy,” Antigone said. “He’ll clear the burning coals and destroy the snakes. He’ll build a bridge across
     the pits and simply seize it.”
    “No, not Alexander.” Jocasta shook her head. “Alexander is dutiful and pious. If the Crown is to be his then he will not take
     it by force but by ancient custom and human cunning.”
    “Then how will it be done?” one of the older priestesses asked. “Mother, shouldn’t you tell us how the Crown of the man god
     Oedipus can be removed, without danger from, the pits?”
    “It’s a temple secret.” Jocasta tried not to sound patronizing. She spread her hands out in prayer and closed her eyes. “This
     place is sacred,” she intoned. “The Crown is holy. According to legend it can only be worn by he or she whom the gods wish
     to hold it.”
    “And if blasphemy occurs?” Antigone asked.
    “According to the legend of Thebes,” Jocasta explained, “if the Crown is taken through blasphemy and sacrilege, Oedipus will return to his city. He will come, carrying his club and
     shield, and destroy the profane.” She paused.
    The temple was so quiet, and she tried to hide her own inner turmoil. Were the other priestesses right? Shouldn’t she curry
     favor with the conqueror by taking the Crown and offering it herself? She recalled her oath taken so many years before. She
     was about to repeat this when she heard a terrible pounding on the door outside. She took off the key and handed it to her
     favorite, Antigone.
    “See to it,” she said quietly. “Offer no resistance.”
    Antigone got up, sandals slapping on the marble floor. The inner bar on the bronze door was lifted, the outer ones unlocked.
     A murmur of voices broke the silence.
    “Mother.”
    Jocasta turned. A man stood in the doorway, in one hand he carried a sword, in the other what looked like a seal. Jocasta
     could tell from his dress that he was a Macedonian. He walked slowly into the shrine and stood staring about. Jocasta couldn’t
     see his face because of his helmet but she knew he was studying the pits and the Crown on its pillar. She rose to her feet.
    “I am Jocasta, high priestess of the this shrine.”
    “And I represent King Alexander and the power of Macedon.”
    The officer bowed. He walked back to the door and placed the seal on the floor.
    “Show that