Book 1, Chapter Seven: The Ascent, Pages 179 and 180

Now, my friends,
you may be familiar with this story
of Alexander in the desert.

He had led his army into the driest regions of Central Asia,
in pursuit of Darius
or Darius’ murderer,
or on their way home from India after the oracle.

Whenever or wherever it was set,
the story is the same.

Animal and man, hundreds died
or were abandoned when their legs could no longer carry them.
So great was their thirst and hunger they opened up beasts of burden,
and when there was water, there was too little for all.

This is how our story begins.
Zephyrus here, in his reverent hands, a helmetful of water - a sacred treasure.
He sought out Alexander’s tent, and called for his king. Offered the helmet.

Alexander, scruffy and torn,
limp from the heat,
awoke from his malaise.

He asked, “Where is this from? Who is it for?”

“It’s for you,” said Zephyrus, and passed the helmet from his hands to Alexander’s.

“This is the little we managed to bring back.
Please, drink and ease your suffering,
so that you may live and lead us home.”

Alexander gazed at himself in the water,
left eye clear as day, right as dark as night,
the gift of life his kingly privilege to sup…