The Venetian Betrayal

WRITER’S NOTE

Time to separate fact from fiction.

The style of execution described in the prologue was utilized during the time of Alexander the Great. The physician who treated Hephaestion was ordered killed by Alexander, but not in the manner depicted. Hanging is what most chronicles mention.

The relationship between Alexander and Hephaestion was complex. Friend, confidant, lover-all would apply. Alexander’s deep distress at Hephaestion’s untimely death is documented, as is Hephaestion’s elaborate funeral, which some say may be the most expensive in history. Of course, the embalming and secreting away of Hephaestion’s body (Chapter 24) is fictional.

Greek fire (Chapter 5) is real. The formula was indeed held personally by Byzantine emperors and was lost when that empire fell. To this day, its chemical composition remains a mystery. As to any salt water vulnerability, that is my invention-actual Greek fire was used offensively against ships at sea.

The game of buzkashi (Chapter 7) is both ancient and violent and continues to be played across central Asia. The rules, dress, and equipment, as detailed, are correct, as is the fact that players die routinely.

The Central Asian Federation is fictional, but the political and economic details outlined in Chapter 27, of this region of the world, are accurate. Unfortunately, that land has always been a convenient battleground, and the region’s governments remain riddled with corruption.

Frank Holt’s book, Alexander the Great and the Mystery of the Elephant Medallions, taught me about these unusual objects. Herein, their existence was narrowed to eight-many more than that still exist. Their description (Chapters 8-9) is faithful, save for the microletters-ZH-which are my addition. Amazingly, utilizing crude lenses, ancient engravers actually possessed the ability to micro-engrave.

With regard to the use of ZH, the literal translation of that word in Old Greek is the verb “to live.” The noun “life” is more accurately. Some liberty was taken with the translation for the sake of the story. As for the description of Greek language throughout the story, the term “Old Greek” was employed, though some would say the more accurate term would be “ancient Greek.”

The Sacred Band that guards Irina Zovastina (Chapter 12) is adapted from ancient Greece ’s fiercest fighting unit. One hundred and fifty male couples, from the city of Thebes, slaughtered to a man by Philip II and his son, Alexander the Great, in 338 BCE. A funerary monument to their courage still stands in Greece at Chaeronea.

The draught that appears throughout the story is fictional, as is the account of its discovery in Chapter 14. Archaea bacteria (Chapter 62), though, do exist and some bacteria and viruses do, in fact, prey on one another. My use of archaea in that way is pure invention.

As to Venice, the locales are accurate. The inside of St. Mark’s Basilica is stunning and the tomb of St. Mark (Chapter 42), along with its history, is accurately described. On Torcello, the museum, two churches, bell tower, and restaurant are there. The island’s geography and history (Chapter 34) are likewise retold faithfully. The Venetian League is not real. However, during its long history, the Venetian republic did periodically form alliances with other city-states in what were then called leagues.

X-ray fluorescence (Chapter 11) is a recent scientific breakthrough that is being used to study ancient parchments. I’m indebted to the talented novelist Christopher Reich for sending me an article on the concept.

The History of Hieronymus of Cardia (Chapter 24) is purely fictional as is Ptolemy’s riddle, though all of Ptolemy’s actions in relation to Alexander’s funeral cortege and his dominance of Egypt are historically correct. The appropriation of St. Mark’s body from Alexandria by Venetian merchants in 828 CE (Chapters 29 and 45) happened as related, and the body did indeed disappear, in Venice, for long periods of time. The story of its reappearance in 1094 (Chapter 45) is proudly retold daily by Venetians.

Unfortunately, zoonoses (Chapter 31) exist and periodically wreak havoc with human health. The search for these natural toxins and their adaptation for offensive uses (Chapter 54) is nothing new. Mankind has toyed with biological war for centuries and my fictional Irina Zovastina is just another example.

The statistics detailed in Chapter 32 reflect accurately the growing problem of HIV. Africa and Southeast Asia are indeed its favorite haunts. The biology of the virus described in Chapter 51, and how HIV may have moved from monkeys to humans (Chapter 60), is correct. The idea of someone discovering the cure for HIV, then holding it while the market built (Chapter 64), is simply part of this story. But the politics of HIV, as well as the insufficient global response to this threatening pandemic, are all too real.

Vozrozhdeniya Island is where the Soviets produced many of their biological weapons and the dilemma caused by its abandonment (Chapter 33) actually happened. The disappearing Aral Sea (Chapter 33), precipitated by the insane Soviet divergence of its main water source, is generally regarded as one of the worst ecological disasters in history. Unfortunately, no happy resolution to this catastrophe has occurred in real life.

The heart amulet (Chapter 59) is actual, though my inclusion of a gold coil inside is fictional. Scytales (Chapter 61) were used in Alexander the Great’s time for sending coded messages. One is on display at the International Spy Museum, in Washington, D.C., and I could not resist its inclusion. The Scythians (Chapter 75) existed and their history is correctly retold, except that there is no indication they buried their kings in anything other than mounds.

Now to Alexander the Great.

The story of his death (Chapter 8) is a composite of several accounts. Lots of contradictions in those. The three versions of what Alexander said in answer to the question Who do you leave your kingdom to? are mine. The generally accepted answer is to the strongest, but a different response fit better here. Historians have long pondered Alexander’s death, its suddenness and inexplicable nature, suggesting foul play (Chapter 14), but no proof exists.

Alexander’s embalming with honey, what happened to his funeral cortege, and his ultimate Egyptian tomb in Alexandria are all taken from historical accounts. The possibility that the remains of St. Mark in Venice may actually be those of Alexander the Great is not mine. Andrew Michael Chugg in his excellent The Lost Tomb of Alexander the Great postulated the theory. It is fact, though, that early Christians routinely appropriated pagan artifacts (Chapter 74), and the body of Alexander the Great did disappear from Alexandria at about the same time that the body of St. Mark reappeared (Chapter 45). Further, the political debate over the return of all or some of the remains located in St. Mark’s Basilica to Egypt continues and the Vatican did, in fact, hand over a few small relics to Alexandria in 1968.

Alexander’s tomb being located in central Asia is purely fictional, but the items described therein (Chapter 94) were adapted from the tomb of Alexander’s father, Philip II, which was supposedly located by archaeologists in 1977. Recently, though, doubt has been cast on the identity of that tomb’s occupant.

Alexander’s political and historical legacy continues to be a matter of intense debate. Was he a wise visionary or a reckless, bloody conqueror? Malone and Cassiopeia’s discussion in Chapter 10 mirrors the two sides. Many books have been written on this subject, but the best is Peter Green’s Alexander of Macedon, A Historical Biography. Green’s thoughtful study makes clear that Alexander spent his entire life, with legendary success, in pursuit of nothing but personal glory. And though the empire he fought so hard to create collapsed the moment he was gone, his legend lives on. Proof of this immortality can be seen in the belief he has long inspired in others. Sometimes good, other times (as with Irina Zovastina) detrimental. To Peter Green, Alexander is an enigma, whose greatness simply defies any final judgment. He personifies an archetype, restless and perennial, the embodiment of an eternal quest, a personality that has grown greater than the measurable sum of his impressive works.

In the end, Alexander himself said it best.

Toil and risk are the price of glory, but it is a lovely thing to live with courage and die leaving an everlasting fame.