“Archimedes possessed so high a spirit, so profound a soul, and such treasures of scientific knowledge, that though these inventions had now obtained him the renown of more than human sagacity, he yet would not deign to leave behind him any commentary or writing on such subjects; but, repudiating as sordid and ignoble the whole trade of engineering, and every sort of art that lends itself to mere use and profit, he placed his whole affection and ambition in those purer speculations where there can be no reference to the vulgar needs of life; studies, the superiority of which to all others is unquestioned, and in which the only doubt can be whether the beauty and grandeur of the subjects examined, or the precision and cogency of the methods and means of proof, most deserve our admiration.”
-Plutarch, Lives.
CHAPTER 84
Eleven months had passed since Marcellus’ last attack on the walls of Syracuse. No one thought that he would be foolish enough to try again—not the city’s residents, not the military officers, and certainly not Epicydes. The focusing mirrors were simply too formidable.
But Marcellus had not given up. He had maintained a vigilant study of everything that went on in Syracuse for a year and a half. He had even gained valuable measurements of the walls during the ransom of Damippus. When his agents verified that Epicydes was opening a thousand casks of wine on the first night of the Festival of Artemis, he settled on a plan. If he couldn’t breach the walls by storm, he would by stealth.
In the predawn hours after the first night of celebration, while all of Syracuse either slept off their drunkenness or lay in it, Marcellus sent a thousand of his best men to the low spot in the city’s perimeter just east of the Hexapylon. They crept up to the base of the wall, carrying ten ladders built to the height of this specific location. Sosis, the same soldier who had been part of the assassination of Hieronymus, and ever at the center of things, was the first up a ladder. On surmounting the wall, he saw that the nearest guards were one tower away to the west. He motioned for ten more men to join him. They slipped into the shadows and crept down the wall, over and around the ballistae and catapults, to within a few feet of five guards—then sprang out of the darkness and killed them with their daggers. After the night of revelry, the guards’ screams sounded like shrieks of ecstasy and caused no alarm. Sosis signaled to the men on the ground to begin climbing the ladders. They in turn signaled to Marcellus, who stood ready a mile to the north with two legions of foot soldiers.
Sosis and his ten men continued west on the battlements toward the Hexapylon. They encountered and killed a second cluster of sleepy guards and moved on. The rest of the advance contingent climbed the ladders ten by ten and filed out along the battlements, crippling Archimedes’ war machines as they went. Meanwhile, Marcellus advanced with his twenty thousand foot soldiers, as quietly as possible, to the Hexapylon.
Sosis and his men were already there. They tip-toed down the parapet stairway and slit the guards’ throats. Sosis broke the lock on the postern gate and swung it open. Marcellus’ men poured into the city down Via Intermuralis, spreading out across the Tyche district, trampling through the tent city, encountering only the slightest resistance.
The slumbering populace awoke to the roar of war. Those who ran from their homes were cut down in the streets. Those who stayed in bed were slaughtered between their sheets. The guards on the battlements broke from their stupors to see two Roman legions within the city perimeter and another thousand Roman soldiers spreading out along the battlements destroying the defenses. Fearing all was lost, some of the terrified defenders leapt from the walls to their death. Others ran from their duty stations back to their homes.
On the west side of the city, Philodemus of Argos, captain of Fort Euryalus, made a foray with three hundred militia out onto the plateau. What he saw in the pre-dawn gray were twenty thousand Roman soldiers ransacking the city. There was nothing left to save. He retreated with his men to the sanctuary of the fort.
CHAPTER 85
When Epicydes was awakened in the palace with word of the attack, he thought it was only a minor break in the defenses. He told his officers to assemble the garrison on Ortygia.
The sound of battle trumpets startled me to consciousness. I had no idea what they meant, but realized immediately that I had overslept and that I should be down in the kitchen helping with the morning meal. I’d had a lot of wine the night before—and a lot of Moira. I had done with her what makes a youth think he has become a man, but I felt so weak and rubbery as I climbed from bed that I thought I might have become a salamander.
I stumbled from my bedroom to the clank of armor and officers’ commands. The garrison was assembling outside the barracks, but it was Moira that centered in my mind. I wanted to see her again—immediately.
When I reached the ground floor, the tower sentry stopped me. He told me that the Romans had breached the wall in the Tyche district. The garrison soldiers were leaving now to confront the invaders. He said there would be no morning meal and told me to return to the top of the tower to see to the safety of my master.
I sprinted up the stairs to alert Archimedes. I found him silhouetted in the north window.
“The Romans have entered the city!” I exclaimed.
He faced me. “I know, Timon.” His voice was heavy with weariness.
From the height of the tower, we could see over the walls of Achradina to the plateau. Dawn cast long shadows across the city. The red plumes on the helmets of the Roman soldiers stood out in the distance like torches lit by the sun. They were everywhere. My heart sank.
“How can this be?” I asked. “The night was full of celebration just hours ago.” Below I could see the garrison filing off the island.
“We lowered our defenses, Timon, and the Romans took advantage. The next trumpets you hear will be calling for our surrender.”
“But what of your weapons?”
“Catapults and cranes cannot operate themselves.”
He was right. The battlements had been all but empty. Moira and I had seen it. The guards were either drinking or asleep. They hadn’t seen us. How could they have noticed the invading Romans?
We watched Tacitus Maso march the garrison militia through Achradina and out the gate. They turned north on Via Intermuralis at triple time. A much larger Roman force was coming down off the plateau toward them. The militia abruptly reversed direction, running like a mob back through the Achradina gate. We watched the gates swing shut behind them, while Carthaginian mercenaries filled the battlements along Via Intermuralis, carrying small ballistae and scorpions.
Archimedes turned to me. “It won’t be easy for them to get in here. But they will.”
CHAPTER 86
Marcellus looked out over Syracuse from the top of the Hexapylon, the highest elevation in the city. The operation had been a success. His troops now occupied commanding positions in both the Tyche and Neapolis districts. The Carthaginians still held Fort Euryalus and Achradina, but the momentum of the siege had turned.
From where he stood, Marcellus could see the full circumference of the walled city and the extent of its paved streets and palatial residences. Its five huge temples glowed pink in the low angles of the morning sun. He knew that Syracuse was one of the jewels of the world, and that he would soon give it over to his army for plunder. In many ways it seemed a terrible waste.
Marcellus noticed a vulture spiraling down from overhead. It dropped out of the sky, wings spread, and came to rest on a decorative parapet about fifty feet east of where he stood. The huge black bird stretched and fluttered its massive wings as it settled onto its perch. Looking upward, Marcellus saw twenty more circling above. These birds had learned to follow the Roman legions, knowing at some point there would be carrion to feed on.
Marcellus watched a second vulture land on another parapet, closer than the first. To a Roman, birds of any kind were living portents. Much of the science of the haruspex, the official Roman soothsayers, came from watching birds and interpreting their action
s—how they flew, what they ate, when they built their nests. But no bird in Roman lore was held in higher esteem than the vulture. It did not eat the corn or peck at ripening fruit or make prey of any living creature. It did service to all other animals by living off the dead and cleaning the earth of putrefying waste. The vulture had a certain nobility, too; it would not touch the carcass of another bird. It would not eat its brethren. The sight of a vulture by any Roman, even denying Marcellus, was a powerful omen.
‘So black vulture,” Marcellus said aloud to himself, “I will give the spoils of Syracuse to my men, and the gods will give the spoils of my men to you.” Marcellus advanced to the center of the huge gated arch and raised his right arm. Forty trumpeters stretched out along the wall to his right and left. They stepped up to the edge of the battlement and lifted their trumpets. When Marcellus lowered his arm, the trumpets sounded, declaring the Roman victory and calling for Syracuse’s surrender.
CHAPTER 87
Sickened by the sights I had seen from the tower, I went down to the pantry. I knew that the soldiers would eventually need to be fed. But no one was there. I went out to the kitchen. Agathe knelt by one of the fire pits, applying an ember from the hearth to a stack of kindling. She looked over her shoulder as I approached.
“Where’s Hektor?” I asked.
“Passed out drunk at his home,” she snapped.
“What about Lavinia and Eurydice?”
“For all we know they’re dead. No one can be on the streets, much less get into Achradina. We’re stuck here until the Romans take us or the old man in the tower comes up with another miracle.”
Agathe turned back to the fire and blew on the ember. A trail of smoke rose out of the kindling. She stood up. “Well, don’t just stand there. Get the other fires started. We’ve got to get some food ready for these soldiers. They’re on duty around the clock now.”
I couldn’t help asking again. “You haven’t heard anything from Lavinia?”
Agathe, who had grown considerably more tolerant of Lavinia, expressed her fears the only way she knew how, snarling anger. “How could I? We’re sealed in and they’re sealed out—or dead. Get to the fires. Then go down to the pantry. I need two bags of barley. That’s something I know we have in quantity.”
When I turned to get an ember from the hearth, Hektor appeared from behind the tower and stumbled awkwardly into the kitchen. He leaned on a table to maintain his balance. I had never seen him look so bad.
Agathe glared at him. “Get out of here until you’re sober, Hektor. We’ve got work to do.”
Hektor grinned like a monkey. “I got married last night.”
Agathe looked to the gods for relief.
“To Eurydice,” he continued with a big smile.
“What!” snapped Agathe. “She’s been putting you off every day since you hired her.”
Eurydice came around the corner of the tower. She held her two-year-old son’s hand. Agathe’s mouth fell open in a mixture of disbelief and relief.
“What more could a woman want?” Hektor beamed with the certainty of a drunk. “A man of position and wealth. A father for her child.”
“You mean the last living heir to the throne!” Agathe understood that Eurydice’s night on the island with Hektor likely saved her life, but she still didn’t like the marriage.
Hektor scratched at the bird’s nest of his tangled hair. “What’s going on? Where’s Lavinia?” He looked around. “Who’s making breakfast?”
Eurydice came all the way into the kitchen. “Wh—wh—where’s Lavinia?”
Agathe looked at the floor. I think she wiped a tear from her eye. When she lifted her head, she shouted at me. “Timon! Don’t just stand there. Get that barley!”
CHAPTER 88
Marcellus had secured the center of the city by noon. He sent three exiled Syracusan noblemen, the same ones who had sponsored the failed conspiracy of slaves in the spring, to Achradina to offer terms of surrender. The majority of the soldiers in this easternmost portion of the city were mercenaries hired by Epicydes. Some were Syracusan militia, including the garrison from Ortygia, and some were allied soldiers from other parts of Italy who had traveled with the Roman army, but had since deserted to the Carthaginian side. No matter what the arrangements for surrender, the mercenaries and deserters knew they would not escape with their lives. Their only hope was to defend their position or fight their way out.
When the noblemen approached the walls along Via Intermuralis with a contingent of Roman officers, the soldiers inside targeted them with ballistae, making it impossible for the group to get within yelling distance of the walls without risking their lives. The noblemen returned to Marcellus and told him they had been refused.
Marcellus decided to try the west side of the city. He assembled half his troops outside Fort Euryalus, then sent Sosis to request its surrender. Philodemus met him at the gate. He told Sosis he needed more time to make a decision. When Sosis reported this to Marcellus, the Roman general interpreted it as a stalling tactic. Both he and Philodemus knew that Hippocrates and Himilco would be coming from Agrigentum with their armies as soon as they learned of the Roman incursion.
Marcellus had to act quickly. He expected the arrival of Himilco within the week. With two heavily defended forts on either side of the city refusing to surrender, Marcellus might soon find himself trapped within the walls of Syracuse. He immediately set his men to building a camp on the plateau between Tyche and Neapolis. Using bricks from the homes and buildings that had been damaged by the Roman catapults, the soldiers built a fort on the most easily defended ground. At the same time, Quinctius Crispinus strengthened the defenses of his camp south of the city. Any army coming from Agrigentum would encounter Crispinus before they reached the walls of Syracuse.
On the second day of the occupation, a group of wealthy noblemen from Neapolis approached Marcellus. They pleaded with him not to burn the city and to spare the lives of the innocent citizens. Marcellus, a man of sensibility, agreed that no citizen or free man would be harmed, but that all else—material belongings of any kind and slaves—was open to plunder by his soldiers.
Later that day, Marcellus gave the orders to his tribunes. The soldiers were only to kill those who were Carthaginians, mercenary soldiers, or traitors to Rome. He also told them he wanted all the Greek sculpture protected, and that the Greek scientist Archimedes should be found and brought to him. “I have heard he lives on the island,” he said, “but he could be anywhere. Be extremely careful with this old man,” he emphasized. “He is far more valuable as an asset than a corpse.” More than anything else that he might personally gain from the siege of Syracuse, Marcellus wanted an opportunity to talk to Archimedes.
While some of the soldiers guarded the camp, the rest roamed the city to collect their pay. Marcellus’ promise to the noblemen was mostly respected, but the sacking of Neapolis and Tyche was complete. The soldiers atop the walls of Fort Euryalus watched the looting in horror. They were low on food and were completely surrounded. With outside communication cut off, they had no idea when support from the south would get there, if it came at all.
The next morning Philodemus sent a message to Marcellus with reconsidered terms for surrender. He would give up the fort if he and his men would be allowed to cross the city and return to the command of Epicydes in Achradina. To Marcellus, this seemed more than a fair exchange. With control of Euryalus, the risk of being pinned down in the city would be eliminated. He would have full command of the west and could focus his attention on investing Achradina. Philodemus and his garrison moved to Achradina that afternoon. Before they left, they destroyed all the catapults and other advanced weaponry.
That evening, while carrying some leftover dry goods down to the pantry, I ran into Hektor on the stairs. I tried to get out of his way, but he stepped in front of me. I moved aside, but again he blocked my way. He grinned at me through the blur of a day of drinking. “Have a cup of wine with me, Timon,” he said in a way t
hat left me no choice.
He prodded me down the stairs and pointed to a sack of barley. He filled an amphora from a cask, then poured us each a cup. He sat down opposite me and narrowed his eyes as though he were trying to read my mind. I knew exactly where this conversation was going before he said a word.
“Now that I’ve got a family to go home to,” he began, slurring all the words together so that I could barely understand him, “I don’t have time for every detail, but I have to ask—did you get it wet?”
If I hadn’t known Hektor so well, I wouldn’t have had any idea what he was talking about. But with the look on his face, I think I could have figured it out even if he’d asked in Egyptian. Still I had no interest in talking about it. I took a small sip from my cup, delaying the inevitable.
He leaned forward, “Well, did you?”
Hiding behind my cup, I nodded ever so slightly.
His face expanded into a big, sloppy smile and his eyes lit up like a child’s. “What’d you think? You might have been missing something, right?”
Anger began to build in me. I nodded again from behind my cup.
“How many times you do it?”
I pressed the cup against my lips as if trying to prevent myself from speaking.
Hektor turned his head and looked at me from several angles. Even as drunk as he was he could see that I was in turmoil. “What’s the matter? What happened? Couldn’t you get it up?”
I stared down at my cup.
“Well? What’s the matter?”
“I may never see her again.”
Hektor nodded twice, not quite sure what I meant.
“I—I don’t even know if she’s alive.” I started to cry. I had been thinking about Moira all day.
The Siege of Syracuse Page 34
