The Heart of Alexander

Chapter One - Invasion

Roxana above

330 B.C. Bactria

Screams of my people called out into the middle of the night. Were they real or just another delusion within my own mind. So many of my dreams either began or ended in this matter. But this night was different from any other night. This time, it was no dream, but instead it was real. My city was being invaded.

I peered from my window. There were cries of sorrow and rage. The clashing of armor against armor, swords against swords, hate against hate. The Macedonians against the Bactrians.

War was raging and I couldn't understand until now. The evil Macedonian King wanted our country; our land. It wasn't until this night that I realized the true effect war could have. The Macedonians had breached our city's walls and our army had retreated back to leave us for dead. But as I stood upon that balcony, I was mesmerized in fascination of the colors that rage could bring. The red of blood spilled in the night. The angry oranges and yellows of the flames set upon the torches. It was so beautiful.

"Roxana, dear, get away from the window! You know how dangerous it is to be so close. Come on pack your things. We must leave before they reach the inner city. Your mother will be waiting for you downstairs. Both of you and your pick of staff will leave immediately out the back route for your safety," My father, Oxyartes, entered the room.

"But Papa, what about you?" I questioned. Too many times have I left him behind and too many times did mother fret over his well being.

"Bessus has called me to his retreat over the rivers. I don't know when I will return but I mapped out a route to meet you in Sogdia. Take young Cassandra as well," Papa rushed forward and embraced me and planted a kiss upon my forehead. He only did this when he departed and didn't know what would happen.

"Now go before they reach us," He demanded.

Swiftly, I glided across the room, grabbing everything of value to me and clutching my things to my chest. When I turned around once more, Papa had disappeared from the doorway. I sighed, my father gone now for how long.

I took a last glimpse from the balcony of the oncoming battle. War brought on by the greed of men. I felt as though all the terrible things in the world were brought on by the greed of men. Always.

This might be the last time I will see my beloved city of Balkh. Maybe even the last I will see of Bactria. I didn't know when or how long the siege would last and if I would ever be welcomed back to Bactria. I would always treasure this place, even as I watched burn to the ground as if it would burn endlessly.

I worried for the citizens. Those who I knew and those I had yet to meet. Were they perishing? Had any escaped at all? Were any captive or held hostage? I didn't know and yet I was afraid to. But at this moment, I had to worry for my own safety.

I slipped on my sandals and scurried from my chamber. Suddenly, there were screams. Thetima, my maid, came running down the corridor, behind her was a blur of shadows and burning light from torches. So they finally broke through. The Macedonians were in my home.

"Desert flower, we must go now. They are coming!" Thetima yelled.

Thetima grabbed a hold of my wrist and pulled me along as I stared back towards the flames. Did Papa go to fight or did he run? I didn't know which would have been better; for my father to run away and be alive and a coward, or for my dad to fight and be dead. What if he was already gone? Then I remembered. My father's talisman.

"Come on, desert flower!"

"Go without me, Theti! I'll be there!"

"But, my lady-,"