BEING TAKEN FOR a fool was an affront; being taken for a fool with no military experience was intolerable; Demetrios vowed to set the record straight. Yes, he had been soundly beaten by Ptolemy at the battle of Gaza, losing almost eight thousand infantry, two thousand cavalry and his entire elephant herd to the satrap of Egypt, as well as all his personal baggage. And his shame at his reversal burned within him so that he found it hard to meet the eyes of his officers as they came in, in ones and twos, with stragglers from the defeated army, to his new camp at the Three Paradises hunting lodge, in the hills above Tripolis on the northern Phoenician coast. And yes, he had barely managed to rescue his wife and children from the path of the victorious army, and so he now felt diminished in front of Phila, his spouse of ten years, for he had failed her as a husband and had put their children in jeopardy. Thus he was convinced he was less of a man in her eyes, a feeling compounded by the fact Phila was ten years his senior. He now felt as if he were a small boy in her presence; a small boy who, no matter how hard he tried, failed to give satisfaction.

This could not continue.

But it was one loss, one mistake, one piece of bad luck, which had brought him to this humiliating position and he would reverse it soon – indeed, it had to be soon as, not only did he need to shine in Phila’s eyes but also he would not be able to face his father, Antigonos, when he came south from Phrygia after the snows had melted in the spring, if he had not made up for his mistake.

In the meantime, the manner of Ptolemy’s general Cilles’ advance north with the bulk of the Ptolemaic army’s mercenaries was too provoking to be borne. With little discipline and even less scouting, Cilles was leading more of a victory procession than a military advance to scour the country for a defeated foe. And it was this casual approach that so offended Demetrios: Cilles advancing towards him as if he were a fool of no consequence; a blunderer to be laughed at and not the son of Antigonos, the greatest general of the age who had defeated Eumenes to become the one man able to hold the entire empire. And even more hurt and humiliation did he feel at the memory of Ptolemy’s returning of his personal baggage and slaves, all captured along with his tent, together with lavish gifts, each of which rubbed yet more salt into a very raw wound.

And so Demetrios had sent to all the towns holding a garrison loyal to his father, ordering their commanders to leave their posts and report to him with their men at The Three Paradises immediately, for he intended to crush Cilles, capture his troops and push back south to retake all he had lost. Only then would he be able to look his father in the eye and ask forgiveness for the disaster he had presided over at Gaza. Only then would he be able to do justice to himself in his wife’s bed.

Demetrios looked sidelong at Phila, yearning to unpin her high-piled auburn hair and see it fall against the pale skin of her cheeks as her green eyes fixed him with desire, but she ke