The Sacred War

by H A CULLEY

  ‘Keep a civil tongue in your head or I will have you killed here and now.’ The Illyrian king was outraged.

  ‘You can’t do that; I came here under a guarantee of safe conduct.’

  ‘Then be careful what you say, Pleuratus . I’m in no mood to be provoked.’

  The other man sighed. ‘What are your terms for peace?’

  ‘Simple. You will cede the territory of the Drin Valley and the rest of your inland territory to the Dardanians and make reparations to Alexander of Epirus for the damage done to his country. In future the Taulantii will confine themselves to the coastal region. Furthermore, you will refrain from raiding outside your own territory. My scribes will draw up a treaty with the details.’

  ‘And if I don’t accept?’

  ‘Then we will hunt down every last member of your worthless tribe and wipe you from the face of the earth.’

  Parmenion wasn’t entirely sure that Philip was bluffing but the king didn’t have the time for a prolonged campaign in Illyria. Besides hunting down people who were familiar with the terrain through mountainous terrain would be difficult, if not impossible. However, the threat seems to have the desired effect.

  ‘Very well, you leave me little option. Just so we are clear, if I agree you will allow me to keep my throne?’

  ‘Yes, but you will hand over your two sons to me as hostages to ensure that you keep your word.’

  ‘How long for?’

  ‘How old are they now?’

  ‘Nine and five.’

  ‘Until they are men, that is until they are eighteen.’

  ‘They are only children. This will be hard on my wife.’

  Philip said nothing in response but just stared at Pleuratus .

  ‘Very well, but I want them to stay together and to be placed with a Macedonian family of good standing who will care for them.’

  ‘I’ll take them, basileus, they’re more or less the same age as my younger sons, Hector and Nicanor .’

  ‘Good. Thank you Parmenion. The elder boy can join Nicanor as a companion to my own son, Alexander.’

  That settled, Philip waited impatiently for his ankle to mend so that he could join Attalus in Thrace. He sent Antigonus ahead with the infantry and the artillery whilst Parmenion escorted the two Illyrian boys, who were called Taulas and Sirras , to Pella. Finally, three months after the fateful battle, he was fit enough to ride long distances and he set off for Pella, intending to rest there before heading to Thrace.

  Chapter Fifteen – Thesprotia

  344 to 342

  Attalus had driven the Thracians back across the border the previous year and Philip was planning to follow that up with the conquest of all three Thracian kingdoms. Only Parmenion knew that this was really to give him a springboard from which to launch his invasion across the Hellespont into the Persian Empire. He had recalled Attalus’ army so that they could recover from a hard campaign and sent Antigonus to keep watch on the border until he could join him with Parmenion. However, he was again thwarted in his attempt to conquer Thrace.

  This time there was trouble in Thessaly. Its position between Epirus and Macedon in the north and Thebes and Athens in the south made it’s allegiance to him a strategic imperative. Thesprotia was a region of northern Thessaly on the coast just to the south of Epirus. It was part of the Thessalian League and most of its ports exported goods from both Thessaly and Epirus across the sea to Italia and south to the Peloponnese, especially olive oil and timber. The ports had been colonised by two of the city states, Elis and Corinth, in the Peloponnese and now, in order to stir up trouble for Philip, they had bribed their colonists to close the ports, ruining this trade. King Alexander of Epirus and the Thessalian League had therefore appealed to Philip for help.

  The king was well aware that the instigators of the embargo on trade had been his enemies in the Peloponnese but now was not the time to undertake a war so far from Macedon, especially as Boeotia lay between Thessaly and Corinth and Thebes would hardly allow him to march his army through their territory.

  The Thessalian League had always been a fragile political structure, mainly because the plethora of city states of which it was made up had adopted systems of government which varied from aristocratic to democratic to oligarchic. Not only did the differing philosophies for government cause ideological disputes but the leading families of those cities who had retained aristocratic rule squabbled amongst themselves. Philip decided that it was time to deal with the Thesprotian ports first and then re-organise the administration of the whole of Thessaly. That would make Thessaly a stronger, more robust ally in the coming struggle with Attica and the Peloponnese, once, that is, he had dealt with Thrace.

  Iphitos had been surprised when Philip explained what he wanted him to do. The king didn’t want to upset either Corinth or Elis by besieging the rebellious cities and slaughtering their colonists unless he had to. He was trying to unite Greece and, although he would do it by force if necessary, he had decided that subterfuge was preferable.

  The first of the cities he decided to target was Leucas , which had been a Corinthian colony before becoming an independent Thessalian city state. It was ruled by an oligarchy of Corinthian families but the majority of the population were Molossians from Epirus. Iphitos’ task was to contact the leading Molossians and ferment revolt against the Corinthian oligarchs.

  ‘I want you to take on this personally because you have the rank to make them listen to you and you are a skilled negotiator.’

  Philip and Iphitos were alone in his study in Pella. The king warned him that, should his efforts to persuade the leading Illyrians in Leucas to throw off the Corinthian yoke not work, he was to threaten them with the annihilation of their city and the enslavement its people.

  ‘I don’t expect you to go alone. You are to select a few soldiers to go with you to protect you.’

  Iphitos shook his head. ‘Professional soldiers would give themselves away, even dressed as civilians. I don’t want to draw attention to myself. I’ll take Georgios and Enyo. They are my adopted children so we won’t have to pretend we’re a family, and they both know how to fight. Furthermore they’re Thessalians and sound like it, even if they’re from further south. I’ll pretend to be blind and we’ll take in a few goats to sell in the agora. People shy away from disability and we should attract less attention that way.’

  ‘I still don’t like it. You’re too valuable to me to lose, but I suppose it does sound a good way to avoid suspicion. Is there anything else you need?’

  ‘Just information about who I should contact and where to find them, but hopefully Uzava can provide that.’

  ‘Very well. You’ll leave the day after tomorrow and I’ll follow you with Parmenion’s army a week later. Attalus can follow on when he has finished replacing his losses and replenishing his supplies. That should give you enough time to arrange the revolt before word of my coming reaches Leucas . Good luck.’

  -o0o-

  Georgios had just turned fifteen and had grown several inches since Iphitos had first seen him in that goatherd’s hut. His sister too looked quite different. At nearly seventeen she was a stunning young woman, but her looks belied her skill with a bow and, increasingly, with a sword. Shortly after she came to live with him and Chloe she had persuaded Iphitos to allow her to practice swordsmanship with Georgios. The youth had being having lessons with a master swordsman and was now as good as most soldiers in Philip’s army. However, Enyo could best him most days. They were there to provide cover for his mission but, if he needed someone to fight alongside him, these two were as good as most.

  They had brought a couple of grooms with them as well as three cavalrymen as escort. They left both at a farm not far from Leucas and paid the farmer well for half a dozen goats and his silence. He was tempted to kill the farmer and his family to ensure they didn’t betray him, but the soldier in command of his escort promised to keep a close eye on them.

  Dressed in threadbare chitons and sheepskin j
erkins the three of them set off on foot for the city, driving the goats ahead of them. As they neared the gates Georgios drove the goats on his own whilst Enyo pretended to guide her blind father. The two soldiers guarding the gate didn’t give them a second glance but there was a scribe sitting at a table just inside the walls who beckoned to Enyo. Taking Iphitos’ arm she walked over to him.

  ‘You hoping to sell those poor excuses for goats in the livestock market?’

  ‘Yes, and they’re prime specimens!’ she replied indignantly.

  ‘If you say so, sweetheart.’ He leered at her, letting his eyes wander up and down her body. ‘That’ll be five didrachms then.’

  ‘What for?’

  ‘Tax for selling in the city. Come on; there’s a queue behind you now.’

  Iphitos handed her the pouch at his waist with its meagre contents and she reluctantly pulled out the small copper coins, putting them into the hand of the impatient scribe. With a final leer at her he wrote something on the scroll in front of him and waved them into the city.

  They made their way through the narrow, smelly streets which were full of dung from the animals that had preceded them. Iphitos wondered idly why they didn’t hold the livestock market outside the city walls as he nimbly avoided each pile of manure whilst keeping up the pretence of blindness.

  Eventually they reached the agora from which the normal traders’ stalls were absent on this one day of the month. Instead the place was full of cattle, horses, goats and sheep, all in pens made of wickerwork. They had to pay another three didrachms to hire a small pen and Georgios and his sister herded their dozen goats into it. As soon as they had done so various farmers and merchants came to inspect them and most wandered off again quite quickly to look at other potential purchases.

  Two men stayed to bid against each other for the goats. Finally one outbid the others and Iphitos was told that the offer was fifty didrachms . That was only three and a half didrachms for each goat. He had paid the farmer who had sold them to him five didrachms , which Georgios said was a fair price. However, he had a choice. Stay here and hope for a better offer later in the day or accept it. As he wanted to be rid of the damned things anyway he nodded his agreement after a show of reluctance.

  Two scruffy boys who looked to be about ten or eleven came and herded the goats into a much larger pen where there were already about fifty other goats. Presumably they would be herding the whole lot away at the end of the day and he wondered idly how they managed so many when he saw two young men sitting drinking on stools beside the pen. They were presumably the urchins’ elder brothers but they were making the boys do all the work.

  With the sale concluded Enyo made a little money back by selling the hire of the pen on to a new arrival who had fifteen sheep. Both he and his son, who can’t have been more than twelve or thirteen, openly admired the girl’s lissom body as Iphitos put the coins in his pouch and then the three of them left the stink and noise of the agora behind as they went to find a tavern in which to stay.

  First they had to wash and change though. Goatherds couldn’t afford to stay in a tavern and, in any case, they would have started on the journey home as soon as they could. They found a horse trough outside a stables and washed their hands and faces. The rest would have to wait until they had a bath at the tavern. Nipping into a narrow alley they pulled off their sheepskin jerkins and filthy, ragged chitons and put on clean ones that Iphitos had in a scuffed leather bag he was carrying, together with a much fatter money pouch. They also put sandals on their bare feet and himations over their chitons. The only difference between what Enyo now wore and the other two was the fact that her chiton was full length, as was the custom for Greek women.

  They chose a modest tavern not far from the agora that appeared to be respectable and clean and, after paying to use the tavern’s bathhouse and eating a meal of asparagus, fennel, cucumber, chickpeas, and celery washed down with goats’ milk and followed by fruit. Iphitos no longer needed to pretend to be blind; that had just been to get them into the city without attracting notice. As a family he had hired a single room with three beds in it. To have asked for individual rooms would have appeared odd and he still wanted to attract as little attention as possible.

  Uzuva had given Iphitos some names of leading citizens who were Molossians and who could be expected to help, but he had no idea where they lived. Iphitos decided he had to take a gamble and hope that the one he visited first wouldn’t give them away. It was a fair bet that he lived in the area where the biggest houses were so they set off to explore before it got dark. The city wasn’t enormous and, as he had expected, the poor lived near the agora and the rich up around the acropolis. After asking around they were directed towards a large whitewashed house behind an imposing wall with a double gate facing the street.

  It was now dusk and Iphitos began to worry about finding his way back to the tavern as darkness enveloped the town. One of the houses had a torch burning outside the gate and so Georgios borrowed it to light their way. They saw few people abroad after dark and made it safely back to the tavern.

  They shared a platter of goat’s meat, cheese and bread for supper and then went up to bed. The next morning was unusually overcast and the wind had picked up; a sure sign that they were in for a storm. That suited Iphitos very well and the three set off back to the whitewashed house. The rain started after they were only hallway there and they pulled their himations over their heads to give them some protection. Enyo had piled her long hair on top of her head and was worried that it would become a bedraggled mess before they got there, so Iphitos send her back to the tavern.

  Given the fact that the rain was getting heavier, the porter let them in the gate and into his cubicle before asking them what they wanted.

  ‘Please tell Bathycles that I have a message for him.’

  ‘Who from?’ the man asked suspiciously.

  Although Iphitos and Georgios were now dressed more respectably than goatherds, their clothing was made of coarse undyed wool so as to maintain the impression to the casual observer that they were nonentities.

  ‘That’s none of your business! Now go and tell your master that he has visitors.’

  Iphitos’ brusque tone of command surprised the porter and, with a surly look at the visitors, he hastened to do as he was bid.

  He returned a few minutes later and ushered the two through into the main house and along a corridor which led to the andron . A man who Iphitos assumed must be Bathycles lay on one of the couches scattered around the room in a circle and he gestured languidly for his two visitors to take two of the other couches.

  ‘My porter tells me that you have a message for me,’ he began. Although there were olives and fruit on table in front of him he didn’t offer them refreshments.

  ‘That’s correct. However, before I give you the message I need to know how you regard the rule of your city by a Corinthian oligarchy.’

  Alarm flashed across the face of Bathycles and Iphitos knew instinctively that he had picked the wrong man.

  ‘Why do you ask? I am a loyal citizen of Leucas !’ he declared emphatically.

  ‘I’m pleased to hear it.’ Iphitos replied, changing tack rapidly. ‘Now, I need to know whether you know of any of your fellow merchants who are disloyal to the regime.’

  Georgios gave him a curious look but wisely kept his mouth shut.

  ‘Well, I’d rather not get anyone into trouble,’ the man began, but when Iphitos showed him the hilt of the sword he had hidden under the folds of his himation he rushed on. ‘However, I know that Dinocrates is always complaining about the taxes we have to pay and regretting the fact that we Molossians don’t have a say in the government of our own city.’

  ‘Good. You have been most helpful, Bathycles . Thank you. Now where do I find this Dinocrates ?’

  The other man gave him a strange look. He had panicked when he thought that his loyalty was under suspicion, but now he wondered at the other man’s strange accent and his obv
ious lack of knowledge about the houses of the leading merchants. The presence of an ephebe also puzzled him. Over the years Iphitos’ strong Illyrian accent had faded and he had picked up some of the inflections of Macedonian Greek. Now his speech was a mixture of the two, but it didn’t sound anything like the way that a local would speak.

  ‘It’s alright, I know.’

  Georgios spoke for the first time and Bathycles relaxed hearing a familiar accent. Perhaps the man was a thug hired by the oligarchs and the ephebe was his guide. It seemed rather odd but he was glad to see the back of them and thought no more about it after they had left.

  ‘Thank Apollo it’s stopped raining. Why did you say that you knew where Dinocrates lived?’ Iphitos asked his adopted son when they were clear of the house.

  ‘Because I could see that he was getting suspicious. You had adopted the role of an agent of the oligarchs but they would know where everyone of importance lived, obviously.’

  ‘Oh, I see,’ Iphitos grinned at him. ‘Perhaps you’re better at this espionage business than I am. Now, we need to find out where this other merchant lives.’

  ‘Leave that to me; your accent gives away the fact that you’re not Thessalian and a stranger asking where a prominent merchant lived might attract too much attention.’

  Iphitos looked annoyed for a moment, but he knew that the boy was right and so he nodded. On refection, he acknowledged that he was proud of the way that his adopted son was acting and admitted to himself that he would have been lost without him.

  He would have been less relaxed had he been able to see Bathycles ’ porter at that moment. The man was paid to spy on his master and on his visitors. Every day an urchin sat in the dust near the gate and every day the porter passed him a message for his masters. Today he told the small boy that Bathycles had had two visitors who wouldn’t tell him their names or their business and then he went on to describe them.