Bound by History: Alexander and the Gordian Knot

 By S. Patrick McCully

"Many men have fallen before me, and now at the precipice, I shall take the fortune of Asia from within the twisted fibers of this fabled knot."

Bucephalus strode valiantly beneath him, his proud tail whipping the air behind them, the pomp of the occasion evident in her crisp short steps. Alexander, high in his saddle, stared out into the city of Gordium. His bright shining armor gleamed in the intense sunlight. A trail of warriors spread out behind him in tight formations, each soldier in the phalanx locked in step with the next.

Long spears rose out from the formations, the five and a half meter long sarisses a threat to any soldier that dared to stand against them. Twin alabaster feathers flew proudly from Alexander's helmet, its own shimmer blinding anyone who dared look directly at it.

A man in shining, but dented, armor stepped forth from the garrison surrounding the gates to the city. Alexander pulled Bucephalus's reins and the mighty steed strode toward the advancing man.

"Welcome to Gordium, the heart of Phrygia, Great Alaxander."

"Welcome, indeed, Parmenion. I see that the reports of your difficulties were exaggerated. Everything appears to be in order."

"That is is, my lord. We have repaired the damage from the battle and are rapidly gaining workers from the defeated Phrygians. The uprisings have stopped since Antigonus was appointed satrap. Our supply lines are strong and well-traveled and the citizens are rejoicing their liberators. You have gathered quite a following among them."

Alexander slid from Bucephalus's back, his sandals stirring up dust beneath his feet. A young stable boy ran up to him and took the leather reins just as Alexander's hand released them.

He took a long step forward and extended his right arm toward his trusted general. Parmenion grasped Alexander's by the forearm, matching his powerful grip as best he could. A great cry erupted from the men standing behind each man, the wail growing into a thunderous roar. Alexander turned to the two men still astride their horses behind him.

"My brothers, take refuge here. This place is to be called home." The cry echoed among the men gathered behind him, each one calling out the orders to the man behind him.

Parmenion motioned to the men behind him. "Make preparations. We welcome our brothers from the fight."

Alexander looked the general over, studying Parmenion's full belly and his freshly washed face.

"Apparently this city agrees with you, my friend. I hope the other men have also enjoyed the fruits of their labors?"

"They have, my lord. The men are quite sated from the spoils of war and have prepared a feast to honor your arrival."

"Very good. Then everything is in order. Have you found the oracle?"

"I have."

"And what of the legend? "

"Everything is exactly as you predicted. The oracle has been consulted and she has confirmed the prophecy."

Hephalion and Alexander's other attendants dismounted their horses and approached. Hephalion extended his arm and embraced Parmenion and the other attendants.

"Great Alexander, the men are moving into the city for rest and food. Should I give an order for them to reassemble in the morning?"

"No, Hephalion. Let them enjoy a respite from the heat of battle. They have certainly earned it. This shall make a fine place for each of us to recover from our wounds." Alexander's hand tapped his left shoulder, tracing a hole in the tunic he wore beneath his armor. "And I have some unfinished business here."

Alexander turned back to Parmenion.

"This prophecy will be the decisive factor we need to continue our advance. The fulfillment will strike fear through the eastern lands and pave the way for a safe conquest."

Hephalion stepped quickly to Alexander's side.

"Great Alexander, Brave Lion of Macedon, must you pursue this further? We have fought many battles and come home safely, but this surely holds more danger than any spear or arrow."

Parmenion's hand moved to his sword, the hilt rising from its scabbard revealing the gleaming blade beneath.

"Do not question the actions of the Son of Zeus. He is Alexander, the greatest of us all. He was sent by God to lead us. How dare you question any of the sacred words that he utters?"

Alexander's calm eyes turned toward his oldest friend.

"Stay your hand, loyal Parmenion. Hephalion merely believes that the prophecy is not necessary for conquest. He does not share our appreciation for those things greater than ourselves."

"I believe that our military might is sufficient to achieve anything Alexander wants. Look at the lands you have conquered. Look at the army you have created. We do not need this simple prophesy to justify our actions. You is Alexander. That is enough."

"Well said, Hephalion, but this is no mere blessing we are seeking. Even our own oracles have spoken of the power of this quest. And now Parmenion has found it and made it available to us. We all know the certainty of our cause, but there are many who doubt us. They might rise up against sheer military might. With the oracle's support, who can deny our right to conquer?"

"I am sorry, my brother. I am merely cautious."

"Parmenion, have your attendants show Hephalion the wonders of Gordium. You and I have more to discuss."

With a simple nod from Alexander, Hephalion was swallowed up by a throng of Macedonian soldiers, his gleaming helmet disappearing beneath a sea of black and brown-haired warriors.

* * * * *

Paremenion and Alexander walked side by side through the gates of Gordium, once the throne of King Midas. The cheers of soldiers celebrating a well-deserved rest, bellowed from each corner of the town. As they walked, soldiers, servants and citizens all bowed before Alexander. The local citizens praised him for throwing off the shackles of the satrap that had ruled them. Soldiers praised him for bringing them through another battle, and servants praised him for the opportunity to serve him.

They moved through the crowds, men diving out of the way of the brightly clad Alexander, fearing to touch the deity that walked among them. The pair sliced through the throngs of people, cutting a wide swath while drawing many soldiers behind them. Alexander slowed his step as they neared the center of the town. There, inside the Temple of the Zeus Basilica, was the ox cart of Midas. The cart was lashed to a yoke with cords made from thick rinds of the cornel-tree.

According to the legend, the elders of the city received a prophecy that their king would arrive in an ox cart. Gordius, a peasant, arrived in his ox cart and made his way to the town center. When he was named king, he dedicated the cart to Zeus and lashed it to the yoke with an intricate knot. A second prophecy held that the man who could loose the knot would become the 'Lord of all Asia'.

Alexander planned to be that man. He knew that his military was strong and efficient and could force the surrender of a town by their mere arrival. But Asia was a much larger proposition. By untying the Gordian knot, Alexander felt his destiny as the ruler of the world would be complete.

"There it is, mighty Alexander."

Alexander stepped close to the ox cart, a broad smile coming over his lips. The crowd hushed as he approached the knot. The Phrygian citizens of Gordium had seen countless soldiers and warriors fail at this simple task and held little hope that the knot could be untied. A crowd of armor-clad Macedonian Soldiers and tunic-wearing Phrygians gathered around, filling the town center with hundreds of bodies straining to see the mighty leader take this century-old task.

Alexander touched the knot, feeling the thick interwoven thongs bark that looped and twisted into on another creating the perplexing knot. It wrapped around the twin shafts of the ox cart and lashed it tight to the yoke. His right hand slid over the coarse edges, his fingers rolling over each bulge of the thick fibers. His hand followed the roll of the taut strands, searching for some sort of pattern, some sort of weakness in the design that would show him the way to unlock it. His eyes worked over the maze of ropes, following one strand and then another, watching them disappear beneath the others only to reappear at a different part of the complex arrangement.

His left hand joined the effort, skimming over the surface of the swollen mass of filaments. Now both hands slipped over the smooth threads, each fiber singing him a song of understanding, a music that would point him directly at the final solution to this problem.

He worked in this manner for several long moments, moments which seemed like eons to the massed soldiers waiting for their leader to solve the unsolvable riddle. The initial roars and cheers had softened. Several voices turned to sighs and other waited silently, unsure of the outcome of this moment.

Hephalion dropped his head to his chest. He noticed a few men in the crowd craning their necks to get a better glimpse, uncertain of what was delaying their leaders acceptance of this new destiny. He turned to see Parmenion calmly standing behind Alexander. Parmenion's face held no hint of doubt, no sense of anticipation. Instead, Parmenion seemed as certain of Alexander's success as he would of the sun rising in the morning.

Hephalion then looked at the man in shining armor standing over the knot. Alexander's face showed no frustration, no uncertainty. He was merely working through this problem as any other and was simply waiting for the solution to appear.

Hephalion squinted, studying Alexander's features when his Lord suddenly straightened himself. A broad smile spread across Alexander's face and he took a deep breath. Pride filled Alexander, his chest pressing against the stiff metal of his breastplate.

Alexander's hand flashed to the hilt of his sword. He drew it swiftly from its scabbard and held it high over his head. He paused for a moment, the muscles of his right arm tightening with his grip. The blade flashed in the moonlight as it sliced down, severing the bonds that held the cart to the pole. The ropes gave way under the weight of the cart. It rolled slowly backwards, pulling clean from the ropes that had held it for over centuries.

A great rumble began among the astonished crowds.

Parmenion was the first to speak.

"Great and might Alexander, champion of Macedonia. He has conquered the Persians at Granicus and Milete, and now he had loosed the ox cart of Midas. He has fulfilled the prophecy of the oracle. He will be the "Lord of All Asia".

And so, a prophecy was fulfilled, a course was set and a destiny pursued.

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S. Patrick McCully is a freelance writer living in the Dallas, TX area with his wife and daughter. His writing has appeared in Great Mystery and Suspense, Nocturnal Ooze, The Writer's Post Journal, Aphelion, Dark Recesses Press, and Bewildering Stories, among others.