H40

Time with my family was always fun, though the fact that we'd apparently adopted a cat at the urging of my youngest, Eurydice, was an adjustment. The ginger cat, Timoleon, was Eurydice's constant companion. Like all ginger cats, Timoleon seemed to only have a single brain cell which he shared with every other ginger cat in the world. Eurydice being a tiny gremlin child didn't help matters much, and the pair would often get into hijinx together.

A week after I'd returned from campaign, I had to leave the palace to speak with the High Priest of Zeus in Ambracia about my plans to build a Temple to Zeus Panhellenios in or near the city. The conversation had been productive and the High Priest helped to pick out a site on a hill overlooking the city from the other bank of the Arachthos River just outside the capital. He even said he could have a shortlist of priests willing to staff such a temple drawn up by the time I returned from Olympias' wedding in Pergamon. I had funds allocated for the construction and everything and felt that it had been a highly productive meeting.

When I returned home, however, it was to find that Timoleon and Eurydice had gotten into one of the kitchen storehouses in one of their escapades. The ensuing Milk and Honey incident resulted in Eurydice needing to have her head shaved and Timoleon having to be put on a strict diet and carefully supervised. Now if only my youngest daughter and her cat had the grace to look ashamed, things might not repeat themselves. Unfortunately, neither seemed to have learned much from the experience. I had no doubt that future shenanigans would occur in the future.

Of course, Eurydice was not my only child. Olympias seemed somewhat nervous about her upcoming nuptials, though I was unsure why. From the storm of letters that she and her husband-to-be had exchanged, they were definitely compatible. Both were lovers and patrons of the theatre, though Olympias' tastes ran more toward drama than did Achaeus' which ran towards comedy more often than not. Achaeus liked to use his vast wealth to commission plays, while Olympias liked to use her razor wit to write them. It seemed they were a perfect match. It was mind-boggling, then, why Olympias had seemingly locked herself in her chambers shortly after I returned home out of what seemed to be a case of nerves.

Of course, a week after Eurydice and Timoleon perpetrated the Milk and Honey Incident, Olympias exited her chambers with a stack of parchments held in her hand, brandishing them about as if they were a falcata. I hastened to ask what she had there and why it had needed her to spend two weeks cooped up in her chambers to write them, and she explained with a proud look on her face.

"I'd been struggling to think of a worthy gift to add to my dowry, outside of the steel weapons, drachmae, sea silk cloth, and alliance, I mean. Then it hit me. Achaeus and I both love the theatre, so what better gift could I give my soon-to-be husband than a play written by my own hand? This one is one of the ones you used to tell us when we were children, the one about Ouranos Peripatitís and the war against the Empire. I have all three parts written down here, ready to be presented to Achaeus!" Explained Olympias.

I hadn't thought of the bedtime stories I used to tell my children for years. They were adaptations of stories I'd grown up on in my old life. In this case, Star Wars. Ouranos Peripatitís was essentially a rough translation of Skywalker, after all. I hadn't expected them to ever leave the palace, certainly not in any commercial way. When she'd told me that, I felt the sudden urge to find out how to time travel so I could apologize to George Lucas for inadvertently pre-empting him by around twenty-three hundred years.

It seemed that my daughters were opposites in terms of mood. Eurydice was wild and rambunctious while Olympias was careful and cautious. Of course, if Eurydice and Olympias were two extremes of the Temperament Spectrum, then Ptolemy, my son, was right in the middle. He could be cautious or careless by turns, thoughtful or decisive depending on circumstance. In many ways, that flexibility would make him an ideal ruler if he could be taught the skills and knowledge necessary to apply that flexibility properly. That was why I had him shadowing me as I went about my duties as King.

Not only did he accompany me to the meeting with the High Priest of Zeus about building the Temple of Zeus Panhellenios, but he also accompanied me as I held court, as I took reports from my various military commanders detailing the state of our forces post-war, and as I planned out trade policy for the foreseeable future. He even shadowed me while I visited various craftsmen and merchants for my next big idea. Merchants such as Boatharios of Panticapaeon. A cloth merchant from the Bosporan Kingdom.

Ptolemy listened as I questioned him about the tan cloth that he used as sackcloth for carrying various samples. About the plant it came from and where such a plant grew. What such plants required to flourish? The answer was that it was a plant called Kannabis, the same one whose leaves could be made into a medicinal tea. The Scythians used to grow it for more than its medicinal properties, making a linen cloth out of the stalks. Since the Scythians were pushed westward, the Bosporans had inherited their Kannabis Farms. The plant needs average water and humidity but quite a bit of sun. In Boatharios' opinion, it could be grown in Epirus with just a bit of work.

"I will warn you, however, that Kannabis cloth is not considered an expensive trade good. If you're looking to maximize profits, I would grow it in small batches for medicinal trade over large fields for clothmaking. It tends to have the stigma of cloth for lower classes and barbarians, you see." Cautioned Boatharios.

"Could you get me enough cuttings to plant a field for commercial, clothmaking, use?" I questioned.

"If that is what the King desires. I will only say that I did caution you that it is not like to be a big seller." Agreed Boatharios.

After a bit of haggling on price, I walked away with a written pledge to provide enough cuttings to plant a field for commercial clothmaking production from Boatharios, with Drachmae payable on delivery. I was certain the man thought he had gotten the better of that deal, though I knew I would have the last laugh there. Ptolemy, meanwhile, looked pensive, frowning as he chewed over what he'd just seen as we made our way back to the Palace. When we arrived back home, Ptolemy let out a frustrated sigh and fixed me with a questioning look.

"Something on your mind, Son?" I queried.

"I can't work out your plan, father. The merchant insisted that Kannabis cloth would not sell well and that we should stick to trade of the leaves for medicinal teas. You insisted we buy large amounts of cuttings for commercial clothmaking. No one needs that much medicinal tea and only a fool would go against expert advice freely given. As you are not a fool, I have to conclude you've got some sort of plan, only I can't work it out." Grumbled Ptolemy.

"Clever lad. I do have a plan, but there is no shame in not being able to discern what it is. You would need to have specialized knowledge to be able to figure it out. Tell me, Son, do you know how Papyrus is made?" I asked.

"No father. I suspect few do outside of those in Egypt responsible for making it." Answered Ptolemy.

"Papyrus is made from a reed. However, it isn't the only thing that can be made from that reed. Cloth mats can also be made from it, as can sandals. If that is true of the Papyrus reed, might not Kannabis be used to make similar surfaces for writing?" I remarked.

"I see. You wish to pioneer Kannabis Papyrus. I suppose if that doesn't work out, it will be possible to recoup losses by selling the leaves medicinally and using the cloth for ropes or something similar." Nodded Ptolemy.

"Exactly. Remember, the situation in Egypt is precarious. Should the brothers who share your name go to war again, the supply of Papyrus will swiftly dry up. We use quite a bit of it for administrative purposes and will likely be forced to purchase expensive parchment from Pergamon or make do with clunky, cumbersome, fragile, wax tablets. Kannabis Papyrus would circumvent all that." I informed.

"You think a new war in Egypt likely?" Questioned Ptolemy.

"Not likely, inevitable. A man such as Ptolemy Philadelphos will never be satisfied with half the country. Not after he attempted to cheat his brother out of the throne, shattering Egypt in the process. A man like that shares qualities with a Serpent. You may think a Serpent has been tamed if it is quiet, but that simply means the Serpent is waiting for its time to strike." I intoned.

"And when do you believe this Serpent will strike, Father?" Queried Ptolemy.

"Likely sometime in the next ten years. It depends on how quickly they can recover. I hope we will have production of Kannabis Papyrus going before then." I offered.

Ptolemy was a smart kid. He figured out that I was planning something easily enough and tried to reason out what it could be. He lacked the specialist knowledge to puzzle it out, but so would any of our rivals. Honestly, it's good that he could get that far on his own and follow along with my explanation. His brains would serve him well when it came time to take up the kingship, though hopefully, that wouldn't be for a while yet. Still, he was clearly learning what I had to teach him by shadowing me, so I knew he'd be capable. I honestly couldn't be prouder. I ruffled his hair as soon as we were out of sight of the masses, much to his consternation. I supposed teenage embarrassment is a tale as old as time.

I sent him to wash up while I spent a few hours sketching down a design for a waterwheel-powered paper mill. I would need to beat the hemp fibers into submission while ensuring they remained wet enough before they could be stretched out and dried. That meant waterwheel-powered trip hammers. Then the tenderized pulp would be stretched out on drying frames by hand and placed in a modified smokehouse. The process should create relatively large batches, relatively quickly, and allow us to sell excess Hemp Paper at prices that would outcompete Pergamon's parchments and possibly even Egypt's Papyrus. I'd take Ptolemy with me to have it all checked by craftsmen tomorrow.

My wife, Lanassa greeted me as I returned from my study. She was wearing a silk shift dyed a rich saffron and little else. Instantly, I was at attention, to turn a phrase. Lanassa was clearly able to tell because she cracked a devilish smile as she saw that. I instantly took the papyrus schematics and shoved them into a cabinet before striding over to my wife with a grin on my face.

"You really shouldn't dress like that. You'll catch a chill." I began.

"Then perhaps my Glorious King would be willing to warm me up?" Responded Lanassa Cheekily.

"Naughty. You know, seduction of the King is a criminal offense." I teased.

"Oh? Perhaps you would like to punish me?" Smirked Lanassa.

With a growl in my throat, I lunged for my wife. Suffice it to say, neither of us made it down to dinner that evening. When we finished our passions, it was well after sunset and neither of us wished to move, simply laying in bed cuddling. I had missed my wife those years on campaign. Really, I had missed my entire family. Thankfully, I was lucky enough to have the family I did, and they were able to thrive while I was gone. That didn't mean that we didn't miss each other, though. Really, when I thought back on how Pyrrhus had acted in the previous timeline, the more I felt he was kind of an idiot when it came to his personal life. Why on Earth anyone would throw away a loving family just to be a philanderer was beyond me.

So that was how the first few months of downtime after the First Pyrrhic War went. I spent time with family, administrated, prepared Ptolemy for his future role as King, and pursued my Zeus Panhellenios and Hemp Papyrus projects. By the time we had to leave for Pergamon for Olympias' wedding in August, both projects were well on their way to getting off the ground and I had more than caught up on family time. As we set sail, I could only grin as I reflected that this was the main reason for all the wars. So that we and ours could spend time together in prosperity and happiness once all the bloodshed had finished. That was more important than any imperial glory or martial honor. And now, my firstborn would begin a family journey of her own.

I didn't stop smiling the whole trip to Pergamon. . .

XXXX

AN: The next chapter is already up on the site-which-shall-not-be-named. If you feel like reading it, you can search my name on there to check it out. I can't link to the page thanks to site rules, though.

Here we see a few things. The seeds of the Cult of Zeus Panhellenios have been planted, along with the beginning of the Epirote Paper Industry. Mostly, though, this was a chapter about Pyrrhus being a family man. It may be corny, but the guy loves his wife and kids to death. It's certainly a far cry from historical Pyrhhus, who was a philanderer and a pretty shitty dad, by most accounts.

As to the Cult of Zeus Panhellenios and Epirote Hemp Paper, the first will become very important going forward. It is going to be replacing Christianity in large swathes of the Greek-speaking world. The second is more like the Byzantine Style Paper in use in the fourteenth century rather than modern, wood pulp, paper, as its a sort of early rag paper.

At any rate, the next chapter will be in Pergamon for Olympias' wedding to Achaus, brother of Antiokos I Asianos of the Seleucid Empire.

Stay tuned. . .