The crowds are thick outside the temple of the healing god in Babylon as Alexander lies gravely ill in the palace. I went to add my offering to the growing treasure building on the offering tables . It seemed as if all of Babylon was there. Kassandros, Son Of Antipatros arrived with many retainers bringing rich gifts. No one believed he wished the king well nor should Alexander. An old soldier approached me, tired with his years and too old now for active duty. He handed me a bundle wrapped in cloth and asked if I would place it on the altar and beg the god to heal the king. When I had finally managed to fight my way through the crowds and stand at the offering table, I unwrapped the offering to find a cup carved of wood. The wood was from India, from the oppressive forests of The Indus where the old soldier had, between his bloody battles, begun the carving. He had carried it with him down through the wet forests and into the deserts of Gedrosia where he had polished it with the dry sands when there was no water to fill it. I placed the cup in front of the gorgeous silver vessels and the golden crowns of Kassandros as Alexander would have. May the gods save them both.