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

would do if he took Thebes. He’d protect the shrines, particularly the small one in the olive groves that contained
     the Iron Crown of Oedipus. Would Alexander seize this for himself? Or would that be seen as sacrilege? And what about the
     harsh-faced Jocasta, the high priestess, she who had negotiated a truce when the news of Alexander’s alleged death had swept
     through the city? The spy leaned against a wall and crossed his arms. Jocasta was old, and that stern face! Those black eyes
     gleaming beneath the oiled wig she wore over her balding head. The Oracle had been informed that Jocasta would not give up
     the Crown lightly. It had been in Thebes for hundred of years, so why surrender it to a Macedonian upstart?
    The spy rubbed his mouth. He’d be glad to be out of the citadel, to taste a little wine, eat good food. He was eager to plot
     the escape of both himself and his beloved. He walkedup the stairs. On the second floor, he paused outside Memnon’s chamber. The old, grizzled captain had spent his last days
     there. The spy touched the latch; it was locked. From behind the heavy wooden door he heard the dead captain’s mastiff, Hercules,
     whine mournfully. He should not disturb him. There were shouts from below; the spy turned and hurried back down the winding
     staircase. The courtyard was now a hive of activity. Soldiers were arming, eager to break out and join the plundering. Sharp-eyed
     scouts on the walls claimed they could already see Macedonian banners. The spy made his decision. When the gates were opened
     he would slip out and mingle with the rest. As for the Crown of Oedipus? How much, he wondered, would Alexander’s enemies
     pay to have their hands on that?
    Jocasta led her priestesses up the white, chalk path that wound through the shadowy olive grove surrounding the sacred shrine
     of Oedipus. Jocasta moved purposefully. Despite her age she wielded her staff, pulling herself forward. She must get to the
     shrine! She must be there when the Macedonians broke through. She touched the sacred pectoral resting against her chest, a
     thick gold crown in its center, then stopped so abruptly that the other priestesses bumped into each other. She gazed at them
     sharply, dressed from head to toe in white robes, the oiled wigs on their shaven heads slightly askew, their faces dusty and
     sweat-streaked.
    “You should not be worried,” she announced. “The Macedonians will not hurt the shrine or its worshipers. But we must be there.
     We must guard our sacred place.”
    “Mother . . .” The youngest, Antigone, pushed herself forward. “Mother, we have heard stories. Houses are burning, women and children
     are being dragged off. The cavalry has fled while the foot soldiers are left unprotected.” Tears arose in her eyes.
    “We all have kin, menfolk in the army,” Jocasta declared tartly. “Soldiers fight and die. Priests and priestesses pray. We
     each have our place and we must be in ours.”
    She hurried on. They turned the corner. Jocasta’s heart sank. The six guards who manned the sacred doors were gone.
    “Cowards,” she hissed.
    She climbed the crumbling steps, steadying herself on one of the pillars around which ivy tightly curled. The portico was
     rather shabby and dusty. Jocasta took the keys that hung on her belt and inserted one into the door. She turned it and the
     door swung open. Jocasta stepped into the darkness and sighed. It was cold but still smelled fragrantly of incense and the
     salted, perfumed water they used to purify themselves. They now did this hurriedly—dipping fingers into the stoups of holy
     water and sprinkling themselves before taking small pinches of salt, which they rubbed between their hands and around their
     lips. Jocasta pulled the white linen hood over her wig. She joined her hands, fingers pointing upward, and tried to compose
     herself. She turned and bowed to the statue of Oedipus, it was of white marble, though now cracked and dusty with