By the Sword

by Christian Kachel

  “So what happened? Everything alright?” asked Nearchus.

  “I will tell you the details later, for now just know that he has a thievery scheme that I had little choice but to provide information for which will help accomplish it. Nothing to worry about tonight however, let us enjoy the evening.” There wasn’t anything to be done till at least tomorrow and wine had lifted my spirits to a point where nothing could interrupt my level of revelry. Like many times in my life, I would drink today and worry tomorrow. Thus when Nearchus suggested we retire I would hear none of it and encouraged him to continue in the merriment.

  Our two groups continued conversing in this manner until I began overhearing Theon speaking loudly in what appeared to be thinly veiled disparagements towards me. I looked at Nearchus and he agreed with my assessment and turned with me to face the conversation. As we did, Theon was completing a diatribe about ‘someone’ believing themselves to be important when in fact they were below swine. Years of degradation and large quantities of wine acted as an irresistible inner force, compelling me to confront the villain once and for all.

  “And who is this fool you speak of?” I asked brazenly with a slight slur.

  “No one worth wasting another breath on,” was his barbed response. He was drunk by this time as well.

  “No, please continue, you’ve sparked my interest,” I said at a loud decibel. Patrochlus, foreseeing the coming battle, grabbed my arm and offered to buy another jug. I grabbed my arm back and again encouraged Theon to continue, this time I closed the distance between us to an uncomfortable proximity. His sycophants also realized the impending clash and now lined up in formation behind him.

  “Why don’t you back away from me you fucking nobody,” ordered Theon. We were now so close I felt his breath and saliva hit my face.

  “Why don’t you make me, you scared little pussy. You know you’re nothing without your brother,” I hissed with a confident tone. My muscles tensed with this last taunt and I felt blood rushing to my head. Patrochlus then wedged himself in between us in the hopes that a rift would reduce tensions. Patrochlus’ actions were in vain, however, for I had directly challenged and disrespected Theon to the point where he would have to respond lest he be disgraced in front of his entourage. He threw a well-placed jab around Patrochlus’ head and squarely connected with my left cheek. I was more stunned than hurt by the blow and Nearchus immediately got in between Theon and his sycophants, convincing them to let him fight me alone. They held such little respect for our band that they agreed and turned from opponents to animated spectators, imploring their leader to kill me. Alexandros and Patrochlus were in such a state of shock that they became silent bystanders, not daring to outwardly support an opponent of Theon. Thus with both sides immobilized, the battle was joined.

  Theon again took a wild swing at me, this time missing my face and grazing the side of my head. Initially, I was overwhelmed by the entire circumstance and all the repercussions it entailed- causing me to hesitate in retaliation. Luckily his fortitude was underwhelming and as he threw the third punch, I closed ranks with him, tripped him down onto his back and fell on top of him. Realizing his disadvantageous position, he began scratching my face, punching the side of my head, and arching his back in an attempt to get out from under my weight. I quickly jammed my left forearm against his throat to create enough distance between us to bring down my right fist onto his left eye socket. Theon was clearly hurt by this strike and changed his strategy from offense to a defensive posture, pulling me closer to him to restrain my ability to bring another blow down upon him. We were almost nose to nose now and he was spitting on me, attempting to bite me and violently screaming “I’ll fucking kill you! You’re dead! Dead!”

  He was able to remove my left forearm from his throat, which created a fleeting window of space that I exploited to bring my right elbow crashing down on the bridge of his nose. This second blow was so instinctive it was as though Theon pulled it down on himself. Blood then splattered over my arm and Theon was temporarily stunned, which created another opening for me to now bring the full force of my left fist down on his right cheek, which pinched enough skin against the bone to open a fissure. As I pulled my left fist back from this strike, blood splattered onto my face and fist. Sensing the strength leave his body due to semi-unconsciousness and an acceptance of defeat, I grabbed the back of his neck and unloaded three right blows in quick succession, which broke multiple bones in Theon’s face, opened more wounds, and splattered blood over both of us.

  As I wound my arm back again, it was caught by Patrochlus. I looked up at him panting, covered in blood, to see that everyone had gone quiet and was no longer looking at our scuffle. I followed their gaze to see a lifeless body lying in a pool of blood. After brief scrutiny, I realized the body was Hipolytus. I looked up from the corpse to see Nearchus standing over him with a bloody dagger. He had a jolted look on his face and then met my eyes. I was too busy thinking about the repercussions of my fight with Theon to even comprehend this latest catastrophe. Nearchus snapped out of his daze, grabbed my hand and the two of us ran out of Pasicrates’. The remainder of Theon’s sycophants tended to their two casualties while one of them ran after us. I sharply pulled Nearchus down a small alley, took his dagger and ambushed our pursuer as he turned the corner after us. My frenzied attack consisted of clumsily, yet violently, stabbing him in the stomach before he even saw us. My hand immediately felt warm and wet with his blood gushing from the wound. This was not a debilitating injury; in the heat of the moment however and he grabbed my wrist, which was too soaked with his own blood to get a good grip. As he feverishly attempted to remove the dagger, I violently twisted the blade, causing his grasping hands to involuntarily open wide with pain and shock. Using this opportunity, I removed the dagger and impaled his neck, opening a gaping wound that caused his body to buckle and brutally fall to the ground. I felt the blade open the skin, slice through the trachea, graze off the neck bone, and exit out the other end of his throat, severing multiple arteries. This attack was so instinctive it was graceful. His body began convulsing as his neck gargled on the blood spurting out in volumes. Prior to this night, I had never been in a real fight, never stabbed someone and certainly never killed someone. I apparently held talent in all of these skills.

  I stood over the corpse, looking into his eyes, watching the life depart them when Nearchus pulled my arm viciously backwards and we continued our flight. He looked at me while panting heavily and exclaimed, “We need to get to Eurydike’s; they’ll hide us.” It sounded as good an idea as any and we made our way there.

  Arriving at our favourite recreational destination, Nearchus pulled me back from view of the entrance. “You look like a demon. Stay back. I’ll talk to her, she’ll listen to me. Wipe that shit off your face in the meantime.”

  I wiped off as much blood and gore as I could onto my tunic. Luckily its cloth was a dark brown, which helped to mask the true nature of the stain. Nearchus rushed back to me after briefly explaining the situation and we ran around back of the establishment. Eurydike opened a back door and we found ourselves entering the kitchen. She opened a flimsy wooden door to a sparsely stocked pantry and the two of us stood face to face in this cramped closet trying to catch our breath.

  “What the hell happened in there?” I gasped.

  “Hipolytus came at you with a knife from behind once you started winning. I came in from the side and opened his stomach with a hole the size of my fist,” Nearchus replied, panting.

  Understanding exactly what he had done, I hugged him, told him I loved him, and assured him we would get through this. “How long should we wait?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. I think we stay here for an hour or two until they stop looking for us in the immediate vicinity. Then we need to get back to our home to ensure they don’t try and retaliate there. If we can avoid them till morning, we should be in the clear for several hours. These people don’t make moves like this in daylight.” Nearchus’ plan
sounded logical and the two of us sat down and waited.

  “I don’t think Ganymedes will retaliate against me for this. I seemed to have pleased him tonight,” I stated after a long silence.

  “What about me?” Nearchus asked sarcastically.

  “I saw that Hipolytus means nothing to Ganymedes tonight, so, unless Theon convinces him to move against you, you may be safe for now.”

  “What did he want with you anyway?” inquired Nearchus.

  “Apparently a friend of my uncle’s will be couriering something valuable and Ganymedes means to attack him near the Miletus ruins.”

  “What are you going to do about it?”

  “I don’t know, let’s worry about the immediate issue and we’ll talk to my uncle about Euneas tomorrow.” We sat in silence for another hour before we decided to sprint back to our house while we still had the cover of darkness. Nothing was stirring in Ilandra and we avoided all major roads. We came upon our building and entered my apartment silently. We figured if anyone was to come, they would arrive at my apartment first. There were still two hours till daylight, so we opened a jug of wine, changed out of our blood-soiled clothes, and waited for the sun to rise. When it did, we retired.

  I was roused from sleep late the next morning by a familiar form. When I opened my eyes I saw Leandros standing over me.

  Chapter 5

  Leandros’ sudden appearance in my quarters did not register for a short while, as I woke fairly hungover. Normally, after waking from an evening where I committed some drunken transgression, I have a second or two of peace before remembering my actions and dealing with the repercussions. Leandros’ presence had interrupted my normal mental routine and I thought I may still be dreaming. I became overjoyed and hugged him rigorously, all while the evening’s events cascaded over my mind, triggering a large pit in my stomach. It was early in the morning and I conveniently decided to enjoy Leandros’ safe return with my family for a few hours before divulging last night’s news to Argos.

  I walked out of my bedroom behind Leandros to see him heavily favouring his right leg as he laboured to manoeuvre into our main room. I entered to find my mother, Argos, and Helena all standing with beaming smiles and cheerful laughter. I enthusiastically joined in the celebration lest anyone think something was wrong or that I wasn’t elated to see my long-departed cousin. I then declared I would go wake Nearchus for he too would want to hear the first recitation of Leandros’ adventures with all of us. While this reason was factual enough, I knew I would need to calm him down and manage our grand disclosure to guard against him waking up, running downstairs, and blurting out our murderous night in front of my whole family in their time of merriment.

  I ran upstairs and walked into Nearchus’ apartment as I have been accustomed to doing my whole life. His family did not take much notice of my intrusion except to inform me he was still sleeping. His mother, sister and younger brother, Argeaus, were all doing some form of house errand when I triumphantly proclaimed that Leandros had returned, to which they all let out excited exclamations and made their way downstairs- which was my intent. I then walked into Nearchus’ room and stirred him to consciousness. He woke with a melancholy disposition and I quickly advised him what had transpired. He agreed with my suggested course of action and we walked downstairs, took a deep breath, and joined our families in my apartment.

  “Tomorrow I will speak with Ilandra’s governing council and will have you officially recognized as a favoured son of Ilandra and war hero,” pronounced Argos. “Perhaps you too will find yourself sitting on the council someday. Helena, go fetch us some wine.”

  “The good fortune of not dying does not render one a hero, father,” Leandros retorted clumsily with a little embarrassment.

  “First of all, you are a contributing member of Alexander’s great world conquest and the entire world is now Greek. Second, you are a contributing adult male in this extended family and we will all do what we must to elevate our status,” Argos explained. This declaration was received with earnest nods by all in attendance. “I understand a man’s desire to be humble, but you must think of everyone that means the most to you now. But enough of politics, we have all assembled to sing your praises and listen to your adventures.” Argos’ plans for Leandros had certainly matured and were now a long way from him simply partnering in the wine store.

  As we sat down, I whispered to Nearchus to hold his tongue until after Leandros had finished because my uncle would most likely send the women to the market to procure items for a celebratory dinner in Leandros’ honour. At that point we could send Nearchus’ younger brother away and the four of us could discuss our predicament. Nearchus nodded his head in agreement. I added that we had waited so long for this day and should try and enjoy it for an hour before the harsh repercussions from our actions took hold.

  Leandros attempted to begin his tale in Babylon, the launching point of Alexander’s great eastern campaign, but Nearchus and I quickly insisted he commence with his initial training. Leandros yielded and told of his harsh ordeal from early recruitment to finally joining the main force in Babylon. These recruitment outfits were run by Macedonian veterans of severe temperament whose job it was to provide trained bodies to the Macedonian juggernaut that could keep up with its rigours from the onset of their enlistment.

  “The purpose was to take non-Macedonian clumps of shit like myself and mould us into something that could breathe the same air as the Macedonian regulars,” explained Leandros, smiling. “At least they considered Ionians Greek. Non-Greeks were treated like dogs and slaves.” He went on to describe waking up before first light and toiling till evening; consuming meagre amounts of food and water each day while being forced to conduct painfully strenuous activity; being subjected to harsh discipline and frequent beatings; the regular occurrence of new recruits dying or deserting; endless training with the heavy and cumbersome eighteen-foot sarissa spear; marching countless miles; and the hours of drilling in formation under the hot Persian sun. Leandros’ cruel narrative weakened my resolve for war and glory and my inner insecurities surfaced about my future prospects once again.

  Leandros spoke of the journey through Asia Minor along the Royal Road with his detachment of recruits on their way to joining Alexander’s army in Babylon. He told of leaving Sardis and marching to the city of Gordium, where Alexander famously untied the Gordian knot. There he saw the famed burial mounds of King Midas and his father, Gordias, who had ties to Macedon. From Gordium, Leandros’ outfit marched east on their way to the northern Mesopotamian city of Arbela with its ancient citadel located on top of a large central mount. Alexander’s legendary Battle of Guagemela had taken place just west of Arbela several years earlier. They departed the Royal Road at Arbela and travelled south along the Tigris River, finally reaching Babylon several weeks after they began their journey.

  “My harrowing experiences of initial training ended when our group finally arrived at the outskirts of Babylon,” Leandros reassured his captive audience. “There, those of Greek and Macedonian heritage who proved themselves competent along the journey were assigned to the Macedonian Foot Companion Phalanx. All non-Greeks and Greeks lacking fortitude were assigned to either the light infantry peltasts or to support and quartermaster units. I of course represented Ionia well on our little trek and was assigned to a Phalanx Lochos. Several sixteen-man lochoi made up a syntagma. The majority of my syntagma were men from the Pella region of Macedon, thus we were the Pella Syntagma. Several syntagma cohorts made up a taxis. Several taxis made the Phalanx. Many of my new lochos mates did not initially view me as their equal due to my inexperience and lack of Macedonian heritage however, and I was treated quite harshly for some time.”

  “And what of Babylon?” my mother interjected impatiently, wishing Leandros tell us something positive about his experiences. “Is it the grand city we’ve all heard of?”

  “It certainly looked like it was,” replied Leandros. “The majority of phalangites making up the Foot Com
panions camped outside the city and were not frequently allowed within its walls, and if so, only in small numbers. Myself, being newly arrived and lowest among them, never stepped foot in the city. Babylon was a grand site however, encompassing many miles of urban buildings, parks, public spaces, temples, statues, and palaces. The city was surrounded by an imposing wall with temples to ancient gods and the central palace of Nebuchadnezzar jutting out over the city skyline. The Euphrates River ran through the centre of the Babylon, making it a congested thoroughfare of every manner of vessel- from the most decrepit dingy to the most royal flotillas.”

  “I arrived at a time of great activity among the army,” Leandros continued. “Alexander was ready to continue his push east to conquer the remainder of the Persian Empire and capture King Darius once and for all.”

  “So did you see him?” asked Nearchus, apparently compartmentalizing our predicament quite well and getting caught up in the adventure.

  “I did see him on occasion, but not yet,” answered Leandros. “Because my arrival coincided with the final preparations for the eastern campaign, each day was filled training, drilling, equipping, organizing, and conducting every manner of human activity outside the city walls. When the day arrived to begin the march east, the army lined both sides of the city’s Processional Way, where we saw him exiting the blue Ishtar Gate, leading the Companion Cavalry out of the city. He looked the same as he did after the Granicus River those many years ago despite having sustained several injuries through hard campaigning. His Companions were followed by the Hypaspists, his elite infantry drawn from high-born Macedonians who also quartered within the city. The Hypaspists are now known as the Silver Shields since the India Campaign under the commands of Generals Nicanor and Seleucus. Our Foot Companion Phalanx fell in after the Silver Shields and was followed by the Macedonian elite light infantry peltasts, Greek hoplite mercenaries, Cretan archers, barbarian mercenaries, siege craft, and finally the support soldiers, servants and baggage trains.”