The Lost Army

by Valerio Massimo Manfredi

  When it came my turn, I passed by the fallen and could see them for myself; their bodies were scattered over the terrain and among the rocks. Most of them were piled up on top of each other along the same line, the others were on higher ground, where our scouts had encircled and killed them off as they tried to flee. They were shaggy-looking men, with long hair and beards, wearing tunics of coarse wool and tall rawhide boots. Their weapons were large knives like those used by butchers. Poor people who were defending their land and their families against invincible warriors. I thought of how much courage it must have taken to attack automatons of bronze and iron, all of them faceless and looking exactly the same, looking like the creatures that populate nightmares, creatures born of a nonhuman seed. I imagined the moment in which their bodies would be returned to their huts, greeted by the wailing of widows and orphaned children.

  Perhaps they hadn’t understood that all we wanted was to pass through and that we would never come back. They hadn’t even gone back to their villages, to see for themselves that we’d taken only food and touched nothing else. I was sure that those dead bodies would kindle hatred and the thirst for revenge. There would be more battles and more ferocious clashes, more dead and more wounded. Crossing that land would be an ordeal. Not only the men, but the very earth and sky, were against us.

  Much later I saw Xeno bringing up the rear of the column with his horsemen on foot; I could tell it was him by the crest of his helmet. I could see that he was constantly putting himself in harm’s way and I trembled for him. I took another look at the pregnant girl who was limping along, clinging tight to the mule’s tail. I knew what a docile animal he was, used to dragging a weight that wasn’t his. But it would have taken nothing more than a single kick of his frightful hoofs to cut short two lives at once.

  I really couldn’t understand what energy was holding her together. I thought of the mysterious force that impels each creature on this earth to preserve his own life and his children’s. I thought of how many lives I’d seen cut short since I’d set off with Xeno and how few I’d helped to save. Death had certainly taken no notice of my efforts; the lives she had snatched for herself greatly outnumbered those I had tried to wrest away from her.

  An idea came to me. I was still reflecting when I saw the head of the column being swallowed up into the swollen cloud that covered the mountain peak.

  And disappear.

  17

  THERE’S NOTHING all that strange about entering a cloud. From far away it looks like something that has a shape and a consistency, but the closer you get, the more its shape goes away and it just becomes a mass of denser air, a kind of fog that envelops and surrounds you. Sounds are muted, voices are lower, figures fade into one another and become confused. Sometimes you can’t tell things apart. Our men looked like shadows come up from the Underworld. The swaying of their cloaks seemed a natural phenomenon like the rustling of the leaves or the waving of the tall grass on the mountain’s slopes.

  When we finally arrived at the crest, we heard shouting and the clanging of weapons coming from the rearguard and I felt panic-stricken. Xeno was always out there, ahead of all the others. How would he be able to fight off the enemy hidden in the fog, lurking among the trees or behind the rocks? Would I ever see him again?

  The clouds opened in front of us, revealing a terrain which was even steeper and more impervious than what we’d left behind: a rocky ridge crossed by a path that rose towards the top of the mountain. I realized that on this kind of terrain you can never be sure of arriving anywhere. After one peak you find another, even higher than the first. What looks close can be very far and what seems far away can in reality be relatively near to you. You had to continuously adapt your gait to the ever-changing ground.

  Luckily, the storm had calmed and only a few occasional drops were falling. But you still could be pelted suddenly when the stiff wind shook the tree branches above you. All at once, something happened that really alarmed me: the speed of marching suddenly picked up. The men were advancing faster and faster, for no reason that I could understand. Although you could never know what was happening at the head or at the end of such a long column, each one of us had to adapt to the movement of the army as a whole, in front and in back of us, just as every muscle in the sinuous body of a snake contributes to making him glide forward.

  The path was rising steeply and walking was very strenuous, and yet the army was moving faster. We women wouldn’t have been able to keep up such a fast pace for long and I was stupidly making it even harder for myself to breathe by urging on the pregnant girl, encouraging her not to give up. Out of the corner of my eye I could see the awkward, desperate jerks of her body as she strove to keep her balance; I could hear the yelps of pain escaping her at every step. Wasn’t there anyone at all who could help me? We were invisible to them, all they cared about was the mules. The mules were precious, we didn’t even exist. Xeno was too busy with his new duties as a commander, in showing off what he was worth and how wrong everyone had been about him. The man who everyone had sarcastically called ‘the writer’ was now charging about on his horse with extraordinary mastery, striking with great precision, killing and wounding, attacking and falling back, utterly tireless and always mindful, with every move he made, with every sway of the crest on his helmet, of the effect he was having on the others.

  I, and the girl I was dragging along behind me, were dirty, soaking wet and covered with mud. There was nothing beautiful or fascinating about us, nothing that would attract attention. We just didn’t matter, and the army was completely indifferent to whether we survived or succumbed. This made me so angry that when I saw the girl shoved and knocked roughly to the ground by one of the soldiers rushing forward, I grabbed him by his cloak as soon as he got close enough to me and shouted, ‘Listen, you bastard, why don’t you look where you’re putting your feet? Can’t you see that girl with the big belly you just crashed into? Her cunt isn’t worth anything now, is it? Less than spit, damn you, and if she dies no one gives a fuck, but if there hadn’t been someone like her carrying you around for nine months, you wouldn’t even exist now. If you’re in such a hurry, you bastard, you can rush off and fuck yourself !’

  To my utter amazement, I’d pronounced words that under normal circumstances I would have blushed just thinking about. But the man stopped and took off his helmet, revealing a double row of pure white teeth. ‘If we don’t rush, we’ll die, woman! We’re rushing because we’ve got to get somewhere quick. When we’re there, and if I’m still alive, I’ll come back and find you and give you a hand. Try to hold out.’

  I couldn’t believe my eyes or my ears: that youth was Nicarchus of Arcadia, the hero who’d succeeded in raising the alarm with his guts in his hands. I stammered, ‘But you . . . but I . . .’ No use. He was gone, he’d stuck that helmet back on his head and had turned back into a mask of bronze, like the others, one of Ten Thousand.

  It was a miracle, I thought. If he had made it, so could we. ‘We have to push on,’ I yelled to the girl. ‘Grit your teeth and don’t give up. I know we can do it!’

  The clouds cleared and I finally understood what was going on at the head of the column. The Carduchi had occupied the pass and a great number of them were deployed in a compact formation up above. They carried enormous bows, so tall that I could even see them at this distance, and they had gathered up huge piles of rocks, ready to throw at us.

  The column stopped short.

  Just then, I saw Xeno riding by at a fast clip. He drew up alongside Sophos at the head. I could imagine what they were saying.

  ‘Have you gone completely mad? You let us fall behind without saying a word, exposed us to continuous attacks.’

  ‘Can’t you see? Up there, take a look. I was trying to seize the pass before they did.’

  We were stuck. I could tell that Sophos had no intention of doing battle in such a highly adverse situation.

  At least we could catch our breath. The girl had let go of the mule’
s tail and had sat down. She was taking in great heaving gulps of air. I tied the leading mule to a tree and went to help her. She had deep black rings under her eyes and was as pale as death; her breath was coming in short gasps now. A little pool of rainwater had collected in a hollow of the rock near us.

  ‘Drink,’ I told her. ‘And wash your hands, they’re covered with mule shit. I have something for us to eat.’ I gave her a piece of bread which she wolfed down. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten.

  Xeno was still protesting, because he wanted to be informed when there was any danger, and he was also badly shaken because he’d lost a couple of his best men. Basias of Arcadia had been hit by a boulder rolled down from above which had crushed his helmet and smashed his skull. The other had been pierced by an arrow that had transfixed both shield and breastplate and entered his side. The heavy, deadly arrows used by the Carduchi had big pyramid-shaped tips.

  But what disturbed him most was having to leave his men behind unburied. Xeno was religious, and the idea that their bodies could be violated or maimed, that their spirits would not find rest or peace in the other world without funeral rites, tormented him. On the other hand, in the battle of the gully they’d horribly mutilated the bodies of their fallen enemies, merely to scare off the Persians. Apparently it was a religion that counted for Greeks only.

  Given the general indecision, Xeno proposed a solution: in the clash, his rearguard had taken two prisoners; they could be questioned to find out whether there was another passage that could be transited by the baggage animals as well. We had an interpreter, two, actually. The first knew Persian and the Carduchi language, the second knew Persian and Greek. Who knows where they’d found them! Evidently there was someone in the army who took care of such things. But they had surely joined us after the commanders had been captured and we’d decided to start marching north.

  The first prisoner would not say a word. Neither threats nor blows to his face and body served to loosen his tongue. Cleanor struck him with the hilt of his spear shaft, hard in the stomach, making the man bend in two, and then struck again even harder on his back. The man crumbled to his knees, but would not talk. At this point Sophos signalled to one of his men, who drew his sword and ran him through from front to back. The prisoner collapsed like an empty sack, his blood spilling into a pool on the ground.

  Xeno was surprised by that gesture, but then understood that it had been the right decision, because the other man burst into speech. He said that yes, there was another passage, wide enough for the mules and pack animals, leading to the summit. He hadn’t spoken earlier because he was afraid that his comrade would report him to the tribal chiefs.

  ‘What else do we need to know?’ Sophos asked, speaking calmly while the man who’d been run through writhed on the ground in his death throes.

  ‘Well . . .’ gulped the surviving prisoner, looking away. ‘There’s a rise overlooking the pass. You’ll have to occupy it in advance, otherwise you’ll be trapped again and no one will be able to help you.’

  The sky in the meantime had cleared and the setting sun inflamed the clouds with streaks of red and gold, spreading an aura of peace and serenity through the countryside. You could hear birds singing and the rustling of tall trees that I’d never seen in all my life. Some of them had enormous trunks and foliage so vast that they could give shade and shelter to over a hundred men. Others came to a pointed shape at the top and were a deep green or an intense bluish colour. Water flowed everywhere. It frothed and rumbled over colossal boulders at the bottom of the valley, and on the sides of the mountain it spilled in white columns of foam from one cliff to another, spreading iridescent halos in the refracting light and mist left behind by the storm. In the forest it dripped from the branches and trickled from the leaves, dotting the stems of flowers with beautiful translucent pearls. Coming from the arid steppe, all this wealth of water was inconceivable, but it was also the mark of a nature so vast and so unfriendly that I felt our very lives were threatened by it.

  Organizing the operation was quite challenging, because the two passes, the one seized by the Carduchi and the one our army intended to occupy, were in plain sight of each other. The officers decided that two operations would be launched at once: Xeno would launch a front attack on the Carduchi who held the pass, to make it look as if we wanted to force our passage. This would distract their attention from the main operation: a party of volunteers would follow the prisoner under the cover of night and occupy the rise that commanded the other pass. At dawn, a trumpet blast would signal to the bulk of the army that they could attempt the crossing. At this point, the enemy were bound to realize they’d been tricked and would attack the second pass. Our party there would have to counter-attack and hold their position at all costs to allow our army to cross. When Xeno’s rearguard caught up, they would cover the party’s withdrawal.

  It was Xeno who explained all this to me, so clearly and effectively that I had no trouble understanding. I’d been living with soldiers for so long that I’d grown accustomed to military tactics and could even come up with my own ideas in certain situations.

  ‘When will the operation begin?’ I asked.

  ‘Now.’

  ‘Did you actually offer to lead the diversionary action by assaulting the pass?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Why? You’ve already had to fight today, you lost two of your best men. Someone else could go in your place; no one would blame you.’

  ‘Because I’m the best at this type of operation. And because Agasias will be leading the other operation, the march towards the second pass, with the native guide. He’s the best after me.’

  ‘What about Sophos?’

  ‘He’s beyond any comparison with the rest of us.’

  ‘He’s beyond the rest of you, you’re right about that. Maybe that’s why he always shows up in the right place at the right time.’

  ‘What do you mean by that?’

  ‘No, nothing. It’s just a feeling. Xeno, I miss you. Ever since we’ve left the plain I only see you from far away, if at all. I’m terrified that something will happen. Death is hiding behind every tree in this land.’

  Xeno brushed my cheek with rough fingers. ‘From the moment we come into this world there’s a death sentence hanging over our heads. The only things we don’t know are when and how.’

  ‘I see things differently.’

  ‘I know. You fight death. You think you can change the course of events, you presumptuous little barbarian,’ he teased.

  ‘I have done so. Do you know who I saw today? Nicarchus of Arcadia.’

  ‘Yes, I’d heard that he made it through. He’s in Agasias’s unit, with the other Arcadians. That lad has a tough hide.’

  ‘Don’t expose yourself to danger needlessly. Dying for no reason is stupid.’

  Xeno did not react. He looked over at the pregnant girl. ‘Do you think you can save her?’

  ‘Her, and her son.’

  The sun was setting behind the mountains. Xeno donned his helmet, took up his shield and left me Halys, his horse. He was an extraordinary animal. His coat was white and his eyes were big and expressive. He had hocks of steel, powerful muscles and a thick mane that Xeno combed every evening while the servants were currying him.

  ‘Promise me you won’t stray from the others,’ he said. ‘They have arrows they can shoot at quite a distance. I want to find you in one piece when I come back. Him, too,’ he added, slapping the horse’s rump. Halys whinnied in approval.

  I tried to smile and nodded my head as he walked away.

  Meanwhile the other contingent had already gathered under Agasias’s command. They had the guide with them, his hands tied behind his back. They were waiting in the forest for Xeno to launch the attack and draw all the enemy’s attention and fury down onto him.

  The Carduchi. A hard people, and fierce as could be.

  They weren’t satisfied to let us leave their country, they wanted all of us dead just for hav
ing dared to enter. Not one of us was to survive. I thought that such vehemence and determination must be motivated by something deeper than the mere defence of their territory, but if there was a secret behind their aggression, it was very jealously guarded.

  I ordered the girl to find a sheltered place and not to move from there, hid Halys behind a group of century-old trees, and went to look for a vantage point high enough to watch from.

  Xeno was ascending the trail; I could see his white crest waving in the stiff wind. The sun had disappeared and the valley was flooded with a pale, unreal light. The men following him were fanned out in formation behind their shields.

  The pass was already covered by storm clouds constantly lit up from within by lightning. A heavy rain poured down almost at once, carried on violent gusts of wind. Xeno shouted to be heard over the roar of the thunder and led his men into the assault. But as soon as they started to climb the slope, a noise even more threatening than the thunder exploded up high, sounding as if the mountain were cracking apart.

  An avalanche of boulders crashed down the mountainside, making a tremendous commotion. The stones collided with each other, ricocheted off the craggy rock, shattered into fragments that shot out in every direction, pulling other stones along with them in their fall. Xeno shouted even louder, his voice rising over the menacing din, and his men ran fast for cover.

  Those who weren’t close enough to any of the big rocky outcrops just lay flat on the ground and covered themselves with their shields.

  The storm blew stronger, and with every lightning bolt or flash I could make out the armour our men wore, shining under the pouring rain as if it were ablaze.