The Alexander Cipher Page 0,34

of men to drowning and to the crocodiles when he tried to cross it. His own officers were so angry that they murdered him in his tent. After that, the empire was doomed. Alexander’s legitimate heirs were assassinated, and it became every man for himself. But, now, just imagine if Perdiccas had succeeded . . .”

“Yes?”

He put his left arm around her shoulder, pulling her to stand beside him, then sweeping his other arm around the magnificent vista, all the way down to the dazzling blue Aegean. “Look at that,” he said proudly. “Macedonia. Isn’t that a fantastic sight?”

“Yes,” she agreed.

“Perdiccas was an honorable man. He’d have protected Alexander’s son from assassination and kept his empire still together. And if Alexander the Fourth had been one tenth the man his father had been, Aristander’s prophecy would indeed have come true.”

“I thought you said Alexander’s body was taken to Egypt,” observed Julia. “And Egypt hasn’t exactly been unconquered through the ages, has it?”

Nicolas laughed. He liked a pretty girl with spirit. “No,” he acknowledged. “But look at what did happen. The Ptolemies kept the throne for as long as they respected Alexander’s remains. But then Ptolemy the Ninth melted down his golden coffin to pay his troops, and that was the end of them. And who took over from the Ptolemies?”

“Who?”

“The Caesars. They revered Alexander, you know. Julius Caesar wept because he fell so far short of Alexander. Augustus, Septimus Severus, Caracalla, and Hadrian all made pilgrimages to sacrifice at his mausoleum. He was their hero. But then there were riots, Alexander’s tomb was desecrated, and the Romans lost Egypt to the Arabs. The message is clear, isn’t it?”

“Is it?” Julia frowned.

“Honor Alexander and prosper. Ignore him and perish. And in Macedonia, of all places on the earth, Alexander would most certainly have been honored. So it follows that we’d never have been conquered.”

Julia backed away from him, clearly a little disconcerted. She checked her watch and forced a smile. “Perhaps we should get moving,” she said. “Your father’s expecting me.”

“Of course,” said Nicolas. “We mustn’t keep Father waiting.” He climbed back in his roadster, started it up, savoring its throaty roar. The way he drove, it was just fifteen more minutes to his father’s house.

“WOW!” MUTTERED JULIA as it came into view.

“A recreation of the royal palace at Aigai,” said Nicolas. “Only bigger.” His father now rarely left this estate. He’d grown increasingly reclusive with the years, had largely handed over his business empire to professional managers so that he could concentrate on his true ambition.

Costis, his father’s head of security, came out to greet them. “This is Julia,” said Nicolas. “She’s here to interview my father. But I need a few minutes with him first.”

“He’s in the vaults,” replied Costis.

Nicolas nodded at Julia. “Perhaps I can take you back to town later.”

“Thanks,” she said warily. “But I’m sure I can get a taxi.”

He laughed again, enjoying her discomfort. She’d looked troubled ever since he told her about the Aristander prophecy. Westerners today! They took fright at the merest hint of the sacred. It was just as well that she hadn’t been in church last night, that he hadn’t told her about the book of Daniel—the full prophecy, that is, including the description of the man predicted to bring about Macedonian liberation.

The only way to reach the vaults was via a secure elevator. Nicolas stepped into it now; the steel doors closed smoothly. He presented his eyes to the retinal scanner; then it began its slow descent, shuddering a little under its own weight when it came to a halt. An armed guard was stationed by the vault, where his father kept all his greatest treasures. Nicolas punched in his code, and the steel door opened. He went through, still thinking about the book of Daniel, and particularly those verses that, twenty-five hundred years before, had promised his people a savior.

And in the latter time of their kingdom, when the transgressors are come to the full, a king of fierce countenance, and understanding dark sentences, shall stand up.

And his power shall be mighty, but not by his own power: and he shall destroy wonderfully, and shall prosper, and practice.

And through his policy also he shall cause craft to prosper in his hand; and he shall magnify himself in his heart, and by peace he shall destroy.

His father, as if by some kind of telepathy, was already standing in front of the glass-topped cabinet in which were displayed a few samples