As big and strong as they were, Halicarnassus’ walls were built to defend in a bygone age. For Alexander was equipped with a new type of weapon, the torsion catapult. Designed by engineers at the court of Philip, his father, it was powered by animal sinews that could unleash far more power than anything previously seen. Until then siege warfare had generally been a case of surrounding a town and starving it out. Now a new arms race had begun. With these catapults Alexander could actually knock down walls, and literally smash any cities that stood in his way. One can almost imagine the look on the faces of the Persian generals, encamped in Mausolus’ old palace probably beneath the city’s Crusadar castle, as Alexander’s troops wheeled up siege towers several stories high, and let rip the first volley of stone boulders.

Three months into my expedition, I walked through the depths of central Anatolia, a never-ending patchwork of wheat fields, to the city of Gordium. Situated on the Persian Royal Road just west of Ankara, this was the capital of Phrygia, a kingdom founded by Gordius in the 8th century BC. It was expanded by his celebrated son, Midas, whose touch according to legend turned everything to gold. It was here that one of the most celebrated moments in Alexander’s career occurred. Alexander was attracted by the story surrounding a ceremonial chariot that marked Gordius’ grave. The wagon’s yoke was attached by a knot no man had ever been able to undo. Not unlike the story of Arthur and the sword in the stone, people believed that whoever undid the knot would become Lord of all Asia. Surrounded by a crowd of onlookers Alexander struggled to loose the knot. Growing frustrated he drew his sword and slashed through it. Apparently Zeus himself approved of Alexander’s actions, for “there were thunderclaps and flashes of lightning that very night”.

In the baking heat of August, I headed southeast via Cappadocia, across the Taurus mountains, and on past Tarsus. Where the coast of Turkey turns south to the east of Adana, a great mound lies, excavated in recent times. This earthen ‘huyuk’, like many scattered around this part of the world, marks an ancient settlement, in this case, the town of Issus. It was here that Alexander left his sick and injured soldiers before moving south hot on the trail of the Persian Great King, Darius. Unbeknownst to Alexander, however, Darius’s army was actually wheeling around behind him. When Darius reached Issus, he cut off the hands of the Macedonian sick he found there.

Today the area is far removed from its ancient past, an industrial zone crammed with smoking factories. But it was here that one of the most significant battles in history was fought. On the banks of a small river, Alexander assembled his force. He had chosen the site carefully, a narrow plain hemmed between mountains and sea, to prevent the Persians from using their vastly greater numbers. I remember walking around the area, armed with the ancient writers who described the battle, trying to make sense of the landscape.