Now I, Ania, who had not slept for three days, saw an army of lost souls. They had come for Alestria. Oh, that they would take me with my queen!

Alestria's hands were cold as ice. She was still breathing, but her soul had left her body. She was there among those wild spirits who loved victory and light, laughing, dancing, and occasionally peering at me out of curiosity.

Alestria, it is I, Ania, your sister, your servant, your scribe!

Alestria, have you forgotten those flat stones on which we started writing our story?

Alestria, have you forgotten the smell of lily of the valley, the song of the white birds, the gold and red clouds rising on the horizon?

Alestria, are you weary of Alexander, the man who brought an end to your galloping and who showed you all the pleasure and pain of being a woman?

Alestria, come back! The life of kings is an illusion. We can return to our own land and go back to our novel of the stars.

Come back to your body, Alestria!

Poros. The name obsessed me. People everywhere praised his intelligence and fine looks. His reputation for eloquence had spread along the banks of the Indus: he alone succeeded in rallying the princes to drive Alexander back out of their lands.

I had left my queen to fight this fearsome rival. I offered pacts to the cities I had conquered, and promised those that surrendered the fertile lands that belonged to Poros. Right in the heart of the web woven for me by my adversary, I was building my own net. Where he had found friendship, I set up an army. In my progress toward the south I knew that Poros was riding out on his white elephant, sometimes ahead of me, sometimes following behind me. Neither he nor I had yet chosen when we would meet. But the battle was already inscribed in the stars.

That night I saw Ania in my dreams. She was staring at me, her eyes full of hate, and hissing: "Alexander, the queen is dead."

I woke. It was not yet light outside. It was raining, and I thought I heard moaning from the queen I had abandoned for the toils of war. "Alexander, come back!" Ania, her faithful servant, called. "The queen is in labor! It's a boy!"

Alexander must not turn his back on war for a woman! He must show his soldiers that he can sacrifice his family for the sake of victory.

Kristna, a young Indian prince, had secretly sent me a message offering me an alliance against Poros on condition that I left him his fields of hashna, the grass of happiness. Was this offer a trap or an opportunity? Was it bait put out by Poros or the whim of a prince who wanted to play one warrior king off against another? I drove Alestria and Ania from my mind and concentrated on the lands of the Indies reconstructed in miniature on the table before me. Different-colored stones represented the various kingdoms spread out between the forests and mountains. Blue was for allies, yellow for adversaries, and green for those who had not yet chosen between Alexander and Poros.

I ordered my men to break camp and rode out at the head of my army toward Kristna's enemies. By killing them I could offer this prince a poisoned gift: he would have to ally himself to me, he would no longer have any choice.

Nothing-not Alestria's tears nor the birth of my child- must interrupt my progress. Nothing must slow me down or break my concentration. I shall race headlong toward this duel, this great battle.

I was haunted by Alestria's pale face. The dark foliage looked like her naked body giving birth. A snake the color of fire flew in front of me and bit a guard, killing him instantly. Hephaestion had toothache, and his gum was so swollen he could no longer talk. All these signs were bad omens and made me anxious. Alestria, forgive me, I am riding toward our glory! I am fighting for your beauty, for your radiance, for the future reign of our child! Alestria, do not weep. I shall return when I have won the battle. I shall return to give you Poros's white elephant and a river of diamonds.

The rain stopped, the wind blew, and the river Hydaspe roared. I heard Ania's voice accusing me: Why did you beget a child if you are afraid of being a father? Why have you abandoned your wife like every other Alexandria you conquered? What have you done with your life? You killed your father, rejected your mother, burned every land you passed through! You claim you want the sun but forge your way through the shades.

I galloped along the riverbank, fleeing this voice by urging my horse on, always faster. No, Ania, I am not an ordinary son, husband, or father. I am Alexander the conqueror, I am a phoenix flying above the flames, I am the man who brings about a new world, I am the son of Apollo and the father of all mixed-race children. Ania laughed bitterly and spat out these words: Then Alestria will die. She too will be a part of this charred path you leave behind you. You will stand alone with no wife, no heir, and no army. You will be a star condemned to flee, never knowing any rest. You will burn in a sky that never sees the light, in a frozen darkness where boundaries constantly retreat. You will slip away ever further, ever faster, ever more desperately into those eternal shades!

I pulled on the reins and stopped Bucephalus's frantic galloping. About turn! The king will return to the queen's city! Shouts of joy went up from the army, and soldiers hurried back to the encampment to hot meals, dry beds, and their wives' arms.

I galloped out in front, ahead of these men who no longer wanted to make war.

Alestria, Alexander is coming back to you. Alexander is on his way.

"The king is on his way!" A hundred horsemen stormed into the city, calling for the great gates to be opened. Behind the walls, men and women spilled out of their tents and ran toward the road. Crowds formed on both sides of the road, bubbling with excitement like boiling water. The cries and whinnying drew closer; soon the clinking of weapons could be heard. The king is on his way, the king is galloping right up to the royal tent. The king lifts the door of the tent, the king is in the middle of this tomb where I, Ania, have lain prostrated for three days.

I did not move, just held Alestria's hand.

I heard Alexander's anxious voice:

"The queen? How is the queen?"

I did not look up and left a moment's silence before replying: "The queen is dead."

Alexander pushed me aside and threw himself at Alestria's inert body. He shook her and screamed her name, his harrowing cries piercing my ears:

"Alestria, wake up! Alestria, come back! Alestria, don't abandon me!"

He stood back up abruptly, glowered at me, and bellowed: "Get out! Alestria is mine. You won't have her. Leave us! Go back to where you came from!"

He drew his dagger from his belt and started thrashing the air with it as if fighting invisible warriors. The king had lost his mind.

In a flash I saw Alestria's lips quiver. I took her hand, and she moved slightly. The queen is alive! The queen has come back to us! I laughed and wept all at once, and fought with Alexander to kiss her forehead, her lips. The queen half opened her eyes.

Alestria had forgiven Alexander. She had come back for him.

"Abandon the child!" he ordered her. "It is you that I love!"

Alestria heard his soft but authoritative voice and obeyed her beloved king: she gave up the fight. She drank the infusion prepared by the sorcerer and that night was delivered of a boy. Neither she nor Alexander wanted to touch his cold, shriveled body. It was I, Ania, who wrapped the infant in white cloth, left the city, and went deep into the forest.

On and on I walked while the brightly colored eyes of wild animals flitted around me. I was not afraid and felt no pain. I walked until I came to a river. To us, the Amazons, watercourses were the revelation of the God of Ice. I untied the swaddling, spread the white cloth on the grass, and laid the naked body on it. Even though he was a boy, the son of the queen of the Amazons belonged to our god. I backed away: soon wild animals would eat his flesh and lick his bones; his body would return to the earth while his soul rose up to the heavens. This soul, which was more fierce than Alexander and more persevering than Alestria, had just been too eager, in too much of a hurry. Glory and strength and beauty were waiting for that soul, but our god had decided it should climb the glacier naked.