by H A CULLEY
‘Why don’t we see if we can find my little shit of a brother? Cyneus must be fourteen now; he might well know what’s going on down there,’ Philomedes suggested. He and his brother had enjoyed something of a love hate relationship as boys.
‘It’s not all goat hair between your ears, is it cousin?’ Enyo smiled at him to rob her teasing of any offence. Since his promotion she felt that he had become a trifle pompous and self-important.
He glared at her for a moment and then smiled.
‘It’s taken you long enough to realise that I can be just as clever as you are, Enyo. Come on, let’s find Cyneus. We’ll leave my men and the Thracians down on the coast road. He’ll be alarmed and run away otherwise.’
‘You think he’ll recognised us? It’s been four years since he’s seen you and a lot longer since I last knew him.’
‘He and I used to blow an undulating whistle to attract each other’s attention up here when we were boys. He’s not likely to have forgotten it.’
Taking Ondrej along, thinking that the presence of a boy would help convey their peaceful intentions, the four made their way on foot up the old goat path. Horsemen would frighten any goatherd and, before they could get anywhere near him, Cyneus would disappear. Besides, it was quicker on foot on the narrow goat tracks. They had changed slightly over the years but they had little trouble finding their way up into the hills where they suspected Cyneus would be. It was three hours before they spotted him way above them. He was standing and looking down at them anxiously, his hand on the large dog standing beside him. Goats littered the slopes behind him and it looked as if he was about to climb up and join them to get away from the strangers coming up his mountain.
Enyo waved and Philomedes did the same. Cyneus waited, uncertain what to do. Enemies didn’t normally wave, nor were they accompanied by a child, but they didn’t look like anyone from his village; they weren’t wearing goatskins for one thing. Even Ondrej’s appearance had changed since he had joined them; he was clean for a start and wore a simple white chiton instead of the furs he’d been captured in. Then Cyneus heard a faint whistle. At first the boy didn’t recognise it and then, with a jolt, he remembered the four note whistle that Philomedes had used to tell him where he was when his brother had brought provisions up to him.
He strained his eyes. Philomedes was nineteen now and had changed a great deal from the boy he used to be. He was much taller, muscular and had a beard. Nevertheless he had a way of walking uphill that his brother recognised.
As they drew closer he recognised Enyo too, though she was much older than she had been when he had last seen her. However, the four of them were surprised when the boy started to throw stones at them and his dog started to growl and bare its fangs as they got close.
‘You bastard!’ he yelled at his brother. ‘Why did you desert me without saying a word? We thought you were dead; Enyo too, come to that.’
‘Stop throwing stones and keep that dog under control and we’ll tell you,’ his brother yelled back.
‘Keep your voices down both of you. Sound carries up here,’ Enyo hissed at them as loudly as she dared.
‘Where’s Georgios?’ Cyneus asked after he had hugged his brother and his cousin. Both of them held their breath whilst he did so. They had forgotten the heady stink of goatskin combined with unwashed body odour.
When they had pulled back upwind of the boy they all sat down.
‘Georgios is one of King Alexander’s Companions,’ Enyo told him. ‘Philomedes is now an iliarch commanding Alexander’s Pathfinders and this is my husband, Theon. He’s a Thracian. The boy is called Ondrej; he’s an Autaratian who is part of our small team now.’
‘Was an Autaratian,’ the boy muttered. ‘There aren’t many of us left now.’
For the first time he had let his bitterness show and tears formed in the corners of his eyes before he blinked them away.
Cyneus was a simple goat boy who had never been far from his village. He had no idea what an iliarch was, nor where Thrace was. Still less did he understand about Ondrej, or why the smaller boy was so sad. Nevertheless, the fact that his brother commanded soldiers and served the Macedonian king impressed him. He couldn’t imagine Philomedes commanding anything when he’d known him.
‘What do you and Theon and, er, Ondrej, do then?’ he asked, more for something to say than anything.
He was a shy, under confident boy who envied Philomedes’ easy way with people. He had played tricks on him when they were young because it was a way of expressing his resentment and jealousy.
‘We work for Iphitos, the commander of the army’s vanguard.’ Enyo really didn’t want to go into details. The fewer people who knew that they were spies the better, even in this out of the way spot. ‘He adopted Georgios, Philomedes and me when we left here.’
‘I don’t want to leave,’ Cyneus suddenly blurted out. ‘I don’t know how to do anything except look after goats, and I’d be frightened in a strange place. Father may be a real bastard at times, but I couldn’t leave him, especially as he’s getting old now.’
‘Cyneus, no-one is suggesting that you leave here. That’s not why we came to find you; although it’s good to see you again and know that you’re well. We need to find out what’s going on in the fort down there. Who commands it now? Have the Thebans captured it?’
The boy shrugged. ‘I wouldn’t know. I don’t pay much attention to it. As long as the soldiers don’t come up to steal my goats, I don’t bother about them.’
‘So you haven’t seen anything unusual recently? Soldiers coming and going; that sort of thing.’
‘No. Wait. I did see a large column of soldiers going up to the fort the other day, but they went away, back into Boeotia again after an hour or so.’
Theon looked at Enyo and then Philomedes.
‘When was this Cyneus? It could be important,’ his brother asked, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice.
‘A few days ago, perhaps a week? Time doesn’t mean much up here.’
‘It sounds as if the Thebans tried to persuade the Macedonian commander and the Illyrian garrison to leave and they got sent away with a flea in their ear.’
Philomedes nodded. ‘They may be back, of course, this time with siege artillery.’
‘What are you going to do?’ Enyo knew what she would do, but it was her cousin’s decision.
‘Go down and tell the fort commander that Alexander is on his way and so he must hold out until he gets here.’
-X-
Alexander followed Enyo, Theon, Ondrej and Philomedes along the goat trail up to a point where they could look down on the fort guarding the Gates of Fire near Thermopolae. Hephaestion and the other senior commanders were unhappy about the king walking off into the hills without a sizeable escort but he was adamant that it wasn’t necessary. However, he agreed to take Georgios and seven of his men just to keep them happy. They now sweated along some distance in the rear.
It was a hot day and the brown rocks alongside the trail seemed to radiate heat. That, coupled with the steep climb and the blistering pace set by the king, had all but Ondrej struggling to stay the course. Although he no longer ran competitively, Alexander and Hephaestion started their day with a run whenever they could and the pace they set meant that only an escort on horseback could keep up with them. Ondrej seemed to be cut from the same mould and that impressed Alexander. Normally he had little time for young children but he was intrigued by the young tribesman and decided to see what he was made of.
He pushed himself until he knew that he was moving over the rough upward path as fast as he could go. The others had long since dropped well back but the young boy stayed with him. Eventually Alexander realised that he was being stupid, getting himself isolated in hostile country with only an eight year old boy for company; and a boy who had, until recently, been an enemy.
He called a halt and they waited for the others to catch up.
‘What do you want to do with your life, Ondr
ej?’
‘Be a spy like Theon and Enyo,’ the boy promptly replied.
‘I can see that you might be useful if we needed information about a Greek city; I’m sure that you’d have no trouble fitting in as a street urchin.’
He ruffled the boy’s hair and Ondrej grinned back at him, quite unaffected by the attention that the king was paying him.
‘However, as soon as I’ve settled scores with Thebes, the invasion of Persia will commence and you can’t exactly pass yourself off as a Persian child; you can hardly speak Greek, let alone Farsi. No, you can stay with Theon and Enyo for now but in a few years’ time, when you’re twelve, you can join my School of Pages and start training to be a soldier. Would you like that?’
Ondrej looked at him a little uncertainly.
‘I’ll have to discuss it with Iphitos and the others first; I’m not really sure what it means.’
At this Alexander burst out laughing. Most sons of the nobility deemed it a great honour for their sons to be invited to join his pages, but this little ragamuffin was only prepared to consider it.
‘I’m sure that Iphitos will advise you to accept,’ he said grinning at the boy.
At that moment the others caught up them and they continued on their way as a group.
Cyneus saw them making their way along the goat track that led along the mountain to a vantage point above the fort. He had been thinking of little else since his encounter with his brother and cousin and his heart gave a little leap of joy when he recognise Enyo, Theon, Philomedes and the strange small boy at the head of the party with a young man wearing an expensive embroidered blue chiton.
He waved at them and then leapt from rock to rock like one of his mountain goats until he reached the path they were on.
‘I didn’t expect you back so quickly!’ he beamed at them.
Philomedes looked at Alexander nervously but the king smiled back at the boy.
‘You must be Cyneus. Enyo and your brother told me about the useful information you’ve provided. I’m grateful to you.’
The boy looked at the richly dressed stranger open-mouthed but said nothing.
‘Cyneus, this is King Alexander. He needs to know what’s been happening since we were last here,’ Enyo told him, but Cyneus continued to stare at the king in awe.
‘Cyneus,’ Philomedes began sternly, but Alexander held up his hand.
He knelt down so that he was looking up slightly into the boy’s mesmerised eyes and put a hand on his shoulder.
‘Have there been any developments at the fort, Cyneus?’ he asked gently.
‘What, oh, er yes,’ the boy replied, coming out of his trance. ‘First of all a large group of men arrived some days ago. They looked like soldiers but they weren’t armed or wearing helmets. They went into the fort. Then, two days ago an army arrived from the south and started to besiege it.’
‘Good, well done boy.’ He turned to the others. ‘It sounds as if your warning did the trick and the fort is holding out.’ His face darkened as he added, ‘presumably the others who arrived first are the garrison that the wretched Thebans expelled from their city.’
He had inadvertently gripped Cyneus’ shoulder painfully hard as he said this and the boy recoiled from Alexander’s vehemence as the king stood up. He forgot all about the goat boy now that he had the information he wanted. Enyo hugged the frightened boy to her as she bent to whisper in his ear.
‘Thanks Cyneus, you’ve done well. Now get back to your goats. She pressed a large coin in his hand and let him go.
With a nervous glance behind him, the boy scrambled back up the mountainside towards his dog and the goats. If he had any doubts about whether he wanted to stay here or go with his cousin and brother, they had been dispelled by his encounter with the king. Cyneus didn’t have the strength of character of the others and Alexander frightened him. Once he was a safe distance away, he opened his palm to stare at the coin. He had never seen a silver coin before, let alone a heavy dekadrachm. His first instinct was to boast about meeting Alexander in person once he was back in the village and to produce the coin as proof that he wasn’t lying. Then he realised that his father would take it from him once he heard about it, so he buried it where no-one else would find it and resolved never to mention it to anyone. Whilst he was digging the hole under an easily recognisable rock he had a nasty feeling that he was being watched but, when he turned around to scour the mountainside he couldn’t see anyone and, as his dog hadn’t given any warning, he shrugged and carried on.
After Cyneus had left, Alexander and his party continued along the track until they could see the fort below. Both it and the ground to the east of it had been hidden behind a convex slope up to that point, but when it changed to concave they could see both the fort and the Theban encampment.
‘How many do you estimate, Theon?’
If Enyo was annoyed that Alexander had asked her husband she kept her expression neutral. She had realised long ago that Alexander had little regard for women, except for Olympias, of course, and he was ambivalent about her. He was becoming exasperated with his mother’s attempts to interfere with his rule. However, she was pleased that Theon had looked enquiringly at her before replying. She flashed her fingers of her hand at him three times on the side hidden from the king. He nodded in agreement before replying to the king.
‘By the size of the encampment and the number of horses in the various paddocks, I would say perhaps ten thousand hoplites, a thousand horsemen and around four thousand light infantry including archers and slingers. But that’s just a quick initial impression. Do you want Enyo and me to do a detailed count, basileus?’
‘No, that’s good enough. We need to get back to the army as quickly as possible.’
-X-
‘Containing the enemy is essential.’
Alexander looked around his tent at his senior commanders. He planned to defeat the Theban army at Thermopylae, but not just defeat them. He needed to prevent word getting back to Thebes. That way he could catch the city unprepared.
‘Hephaestion, you have the most important job. You must stop anyone escaping.’
‘Yes, Alexander. I do realise what you are asking me to do.’
He smiled to rob his words of any offence but he didn’t need his friend to keep drumming it into him.
‘You will need to divide your army into four sections for the march into the mountains; Georgios can lead one, Theon and Enyo one each but Philomedes will lead the first section with his pathfinders.’
Hephaestion nodded patiently. They had already gone through the plan in detail together. This repetition was for the benefit of the others. Once he was in position he was to send a message by reflecting sunlight off a polished bronze mirror from somewhere where the king could see it in the fort. That would be the signal for the king to lead the rest of the army into the battle from the east whilst Hephaestion attacked from the west. It was what the Illyrians had planned to do to trap his army, but failed.
At dawn the next day Hephaestion led a thousand cavalrymen, eight thousand hoplites and a thousand peltasts along the goat paths through the mountains, keeping out of sight from the Theban camp. It took all day for the vanguard to reach the coastal road two miles beyond the Thebans. The rest spent an uncomfortable night on the mountainside and by midday the following day all but six unlucky individuals had made it safely down off the mountain. Two had broken their legs and one his ankle on the rough track whilst the other three had fallen eight hundred feet to their deaths from the narrowest section where the faint track made its erratic way across an almost vertical cliff face.
As the path started its final descent Theon and Enyo, and Ondrej - who had accompanied Enyo - remained behind with the bronze mirror whilst the rest carried on. As soon as everyone was in position on the narrow coastal plain Hephaestion gave the order and a man with a red banner waved it to and fro five times. The sun was now at its zenith and Theon picked up the polished bronze mirror. He rotated it slightly
so that it caught the sun and directed three flashes at the fort.
The gates on the Thessalian side of the fort had stood open all morning whilst Alexander’s army formed up, partially in the fort and but mainly on the narrow approach to it from the west. The Thebans has kept up a desultory bombardment of the eastern gates using the two lithoboloi they had brought with them. The gates had been damaged by the barrage of rocks and would no longer open normally. The defenders had therefore sawn through the stout iron hinges in readiness and braced the gates in place with timbers. These were now hauled out of the way using ropes and horses and the gates crashed to the ground.
The leading chiliarchy of hoplites immediately stormed out of the fort and headed for the Theban encampment. The rest of the column of twenty thousand men were lined up to follow, the cavalry in the rear. From their vantage point overlooking the narrow plain of Thermopylae and the Gates of Fire, Enyo, Theon and Ondrej had a grandstand view of the battle that followed.
Unfortunately for Alexander, the Thebans weren’t slow to realise what had happened and, to the sound of a blaring keras sounding the alarm, soon taken up by others, they rushed to arm themselves and form up in their units. By the time that three thousand hoplites and a thousand peltasts had cleared the gates the Theban phalanx was running towards them to try and prevent the rest of the Macedonians getting out through the gate.
From their vantage point high above it all Theon and his two companions watched as the Thebans began to force the Macedonians back into the fort by sheer weight of numbers.
‘Look,’ Enyo gripped her husband’s arm and pointed to where Hephaestion was leading his men, cavalry in the lead, towards the other side of the Theban camp. As they watched the cavalry rode through the camp, not stopping for anything, and charged into the rear of the Theban phalanx.
Having made the enemy aware that they were being attacked on two sides, the cavalry withdrew and Hephaestion’s hoplites now advanced, started stabbing and killing. This forced the Thebans to turn and face them and the pressure on Alexander’s men lessened. Gradually the bridgehead by the fort’s gates expanded and more and more Macedonians and their allies were able to get out of the fort and attack the Thebans. Pressed on both sides, the Thebans were able to do little and were gradually cut down until their strategos cried out for mercy.
