The rains of the Indian monsoons in the summer of 326BC had stopped for a few hours, but we were camped in a sea of mud beside the river Beas. It was a gloomy scene and none of the men in my cavalry regiment were happy. But this did no worry Alexander, as he called all his men together. He had never been defeated by anything in his life. In shining armour, he leapt up on to the stand to address us, his unhappy army.
He fold us that only a few days march was another river, the Ganges, and another great empire ruled by weak kings. But, instead of the cheers he expected, he heard silence. We Macedonians, stand up and speak to our king frankly - not for us the grovelling Persian customs of bowing to the ground. But we were embarassed; how to tell him we did not want to follow him? And that we had heard that the next kingdom was not only rich, but powerful?
