Since I was considerably closer to the front of our line, I could see more of the battle unfolding in front of us. Both cavalry engagements occurred far in advance of our line and resembled a mass of bodies, horses, shouting, and dust. We continued marching forward when I heard a loud roar of cheers coming from the left side of the phalanx. As I looked over, I witnessed the surprising sight of General Craterus’ cavalry in full retreat and our cavalry hot on their heels, slaying scores of fleeing horsemen. A lone horseman from our left flank rode in our direction at full gallop. When he was within audible distance, he began shouting, “Craterus is dead! Craterus is dead! Craterus is dead!” The phalanx met his cries with cautious excitement, primarily because no one believed the news. The lone horseman rode on past the phalanx towards the right flank cavalry forward of our line to bring word of Craterus’ death and the left flank’s defeat.
Our pace naturally increased as we heard the news and saw the enemy left flank in full route. Drakon barked out orders for everyone to maintain their spacing and alignment, cautioning us not to get caught up in the moment and do something stupid. As we neared the right flank cavalry assault, we could see the enemy begin to take flight and our heavy cavalry lead a full route. This welcome scene bolstered our spirits to the point that it took all of our power to not break formation and bolt at full speed towards the enemy phalanx. lochagos’ and junior officers were all screaming at the top of their lungs, horns were blaring, and drums were pounding over the phalanx’s wild screams of bloodlust and our desire to take part in the slaughter. A rider from the right flank raced towards our line holding a severed head shouting “Neoptolemus is dead by the hand of General Eumenes!” This unbelievable news provoked frenzy among the phalanx. Everyone was now screaming and begging for their chance to kill the enemy. Drakon was actually whipping phalangites back to keep them in proper formation. This was done out of battlefield necessity, however, since I suspected Drakon appreciated our fanatic desire for bloodshed.
Both of the enemy’s defeated flanks retreated to the relative safety of the enemy middle phalanx of Macedonians, now standing as a fortress under direct assault. The news had surely reached them by now and they stood in disbelief at the events that had occurred so unexpectedly around them. General Eumenes sounded a loud trumpet, instructing Apollonides and Perdiccas the lesser to pull their cavalry units back to our phalanx as we were now within three hundred feet of the enemy lines. Emissaries from our army were sent to the now leaderless enemy mass with the bodies of General Craterus and Neoptolemus in tow to offer truce if they joined forces with our army. The majority of our soldiers could still not believe the swiftness and proficiency of our victory over one of the greatest living Macedonian generals of the time, yet here we were negotiating a peace without even engaging the enemy phalanx. Whatever our feelings of General Eumenes prior to today’s battle, he would now forever be considered a formidable commander of men.
The enemy officers quickly gave their consent to surrender and join the Royal Army of the Kings, still in awe of what had just occurred and grateful for the opportunity to surrender. As our phalanx stood in formation, rumours began flying about the cavalry battle that had just ensued. It was said General Craterus fell from his horse and was ingloriously trampled by his own cavalry. Just as we struggled to understand what we were being told, news of Neoptolemus’ demise was even more shocking. General Eumenes and Neoptolemus had spied each other during the cavalry charge and engaged in hand-to-hand combat after falling from their horses during the initial clash. Neoptolemus moderately wounded General Eumenes before our commander was able to hack off his head in full view of all present.
The totality of our victory brought a deafening calm over both phalanxes, despite our cries for blood minutes earlier. Everyone stood perfectly still, waiting for our orders and wondering what would happen next. It was discovered that Antipater was not among the vanquished, however, because he had led a large contingent to parts further south and east. General Eumenes allowed our defeated foes to regroup, resupply off the local land, and tend to their casualties- of which there were over a thousand from their cavalry units. The enemy would report to our encampment the next morning for integration into the Royal Army.
The terms of the surrender being reached, our army was marched back to our encampment while the enemy carried out the tasks allowed them by General Eumenes. There was no celebration that evening as there was after our victory over Neoptolemus because the enemy had not yet been dissipated and integrated into our force and General Eumenes did not trust a still autonomous Macedonian phalanx not under armed guard. Provisions were arranged by individual units, however, especially within the esteemed cavalry, to discreetly celebrate the victory with libations. Because we would not be moving tomorrow due to the cumbersome task of incorporating the defeated Macedonians into our army, our lochos shared a few jugs of wine without wild enthusiasm since we had not played a role in the victory. Our discussions centred around the future and the encouraging momentum we now enjoyed on our way to completely defeating Antipater’s forces and securing the Macedonian throne for the true heirs of Alexander. We ended our subdued celebration early and retired for the evening confident in our mission and certain in our prospects of achieving it.
My father was waiting for me that evening, sitting near our burnt out lochos fire staring longingly at a jug of wine before looking up to see me with a warm smile on his face. “My son the hero,” he said, putting his arm around me. “I knew you would succeed.”
“Not dying in battle does not make one a hero, father,” I replied, only now fully understanding Leandros’ words to Argos. “I don’t like the word hero, father. My actions during our first battle were less than honourable, but I am done denying you your satisfaction as long as we cease to discuss it in the precious fleeting moments I have to speak with you.”
“Ha, you and Leandros need to let your fathers be proud of you. It’s true killing unarmed, yet still dangerous, barbarians is not what you envisioned when you and Nearchus played soldier as children, but you have to earn the right to face a proper enemy in open combat. You did so and now are a valued member of the phalanx. But you’re down on yourself again aren’t you?”
I nodded sullenly.
“About the barbarians?”
I nodded again.
“You did what you were ordered to do and you conducted yourself with as much honour as one can in such a situation. These things happen in warfare. Your general, he is a good and honourable man is he not? Someone selflessly fighting on behalf of the Kings?”
“Yes, General Eumenes is a good man.”
“And do you think him damned to Tartarus because of his command to slaughter barbarian prisoners?”
“No, father.”
“And why not?”
“It had to be done, I suppose.”
“Then why do you belittle yourself for carrying out what had to be done?”
“I just don’t see it as an honourable part to play in the victory. Being on the front line, facing the enemy in close combat, those men are the heroes.”
“And you were chosen to be one of these heroes today were you not? You can’t help the way the battle played out. You will get your chance. And the women last night? You’ve been thinking about that as well. Whores on campaign are not exactly the same as the ones in Eurydike’s brothel are they? It’s good you have these feelings- proves you have noble intentions. But do you think everyone that partook in their pleasure a villain? Even your new friend Stephanos?”
“No,” I replied.
“And why not? Is it because you know them? What if you knew the girl?”
“I don’t know,” was my weak response. I always avoided the questions my father was raising. Had my selfish desires contributed to someone else’s misery, despite her not openly expressing it?
“Lastly, that officer of the battle staff you met recently- you were right in seeking his favour. Do so again if the opportunity presents itself.” With
that he looked up with an inquisitive expression on his face as we heard a faint horn blowing. It got increasingly louder before it sounded like someone was blowing it directly in my ear as I jumped out of sleep to find our encampment in a frenzy of action.
The first face I saw in the blur was Stephanos. “What has happened?” I yelled over the commotion.
“The defeated Macedonians have broken their truce and fled. General Eumenes has assembled a crack unit to chase them down while the main force is to conduct a forced march to bring up the rear once we have fixed them.”
“Are we breaking camp?”
“No, a rear guard will be posted,” Stephanos yelled. “Get your kit on, we’re forming up in ten minutes.” Stephanos and I did our routine of quickly checking over each other and took our places in the lochos. The junior officers, lochagos’, and ouragos’ were all screaming for everyone to hurry up and get into position. Within another three minutes the order was given to begin our hurried march. It was approximately two hours before sunrise and I had never marched in such a formation in pitch darkness.
We marched at a brisk pace for three hours before elements of General Eumenes’ advance fell back to the main body to inform us the enemy had escaped. It was a sullen march back to our encampment as it was generally agreed that while General Eumenes certainly increased his prestige and reputation as a commander, our victory was for naught due to the entirety of the Macedonian phalanx escaping our grasp through treachery. It now marched to rejoin with Antipater’s contingent uncontested.
“We’re going to face the very same cowards again someday; we should have slaughtered them while we had the chance,” griped Stephanos.
“But Craterus and Neoptolemus are dead,” I added.
“Neoptolemus was a worthless snake,” Stephanos retorted. “Not having to face Craterus again is a positive outcome. We still have to worry about Antipater, Antigonus, and Ptolemy, however.”
“I’m optimistic that Lord Regent Perdiccas will deal with Ptolemy and we’ll have as much success against Antigonus as we’ve had against everyone else Antipater has thrown at us.” Our army returned to camp deflated and was given the rest of the afternoon and evening off. The following morning we broke camp to take up a more permanent position in a better defendable region of Cappadocia, to await our next move.
Chapter 18
Sitting in camp for weeks without further information about unfolding events created a sense of confusion and lowered morale, despite our army’s two recent victories- the news of which had by now circulated throughout the empire and solidified General Eumenes’ reputation as the preeminent protector of the Kings. Croesus used our stasis to further train our lochos in formation tactics and exercises. The lull also allowed for Stephanos and me to be better socialized into the unit and come to know our lochos mates.
One morning Stephanos injured his ankle to the point that he could not put any weight on it and was sent to the surgeon’s tent after being derided by Croesus for not paying closer attention to what he was doing. I was chosen to assist Stephanos in hobbling to the infirmary since, according to Croesus, “I practically lived there and was sure to know the way.” The surgeon’s tent was fairly quiet, with the only patients being holdovers with severe injuries from our recent battle with Craterus. Philotheos spotted me enter and called the two of us over.
“What have we here Andrikos?” the doctor asked. “Are your misfortunes transferring to others now?”
“This is Stephanos; he rolled his ankle and cannot put weight on it,” I replied.
“Hmm, let’s have a look,” Philotheos stated with a jovial smirk. He sat Stephanos down and brought his leg into his lap, which evoked an audible wince from the patient. Philotheos began his normal routine of squeezing, poking, prodding, and repositioning the affected area. Each machination caused Stephanos to let out grunts of pain to the seeming delight of the caretaker. “Well, I don’t think it’s broken but you do have a severe sprain. I’m going to give you a brace to wear for the next four weeks and you need to stay off it for the next five days. Good thing we’re not going anywhere.”
I began to wander around the bay of patients as Philotheos continued his familiar routine and fitted a brace on Stephanos’ ankle. I saw some of the same casualties from my last visit, which spoke both to the severity of their injuries and the resolve of the patient. I wondered how I would fare in that situation. Would I conduct myself as honourably as these brave men? My familiar soul searching was interrupted with the materialization of the staff officer, Vettias.
“You again?” he said, recognizing me. “What, do you live here?”
“My lochos mate injured his ankle and I assisted him getting here,” I replied, struggling to retain eye contact.
“Perhaps it is the Fates then,” Vettias said cryptically. “What unit did you say you were from again?”
“I serve under Lochagos Croesus, under syntagma commander Lykos, under Strategos Androkles.”
“I will come seek you out tomorrow,” Vettias informed me. “I have need of a young phalangite whose mind hasn’t been corrupted with any amount of knowledge yet. Did you fight in the recent battles?”
“Yes sir.”
“Did you kill the enemy?” Vettias further interrogated.
“The barbarian regulars,” I answered waveringly.
“Well, that will do. Tell your lochagos I will be speaking with him tomorrow.”
“Yes sir.”
Vettias continued on to see Philotheos, who immediately left Stephanos in the care of a junior surgeon in order to speak with Vettias discreetly. As they walked out of view, I saw, what I interpreted to be, the two of them looking in my direction with a patronizing laugh. I returned to Stephanos to find the surgeon handing him a crutch with a brace affixed to his ankle.
“Are you taking him back?” asked the surgeon. “He should be able to use the crutch on his own, just make sure he doesn’t fall on his face.” The surgeon then turned to Stephanos and ordered him to return in five days.
Stephanos and I managed our way back to our lochos at a very deliberate pace.
“Who were you speaking with back in the infirmary?” asked Stephanos. “He looked pretty important.”
I told Stephanos about my previous meeting with Vettias and my impending meeting with him tomorrow. Stephanos was very interested and seemed genuinely happy at my apparent good fortune.
“The Fates smile on you, Andrikos,” Stephanos said warmly.
“I’ll inquire into any opportunities for you as well, friend.”
“I doubt someone like that has a use for a broke-dick like me,” Stephanos joked. “Maybe when I’m back on my feet.” As we reached our bivouac, Stephanos thanked me for the help and reported his prognosis to Croesus. I requested to speak with the lochagos after he dismissed Stephanos in an irritated manner.
“Sir, request permission to speak,” I stated confidently.
“And what do you want?” Croesus replied. I informed Croesus of my dealings with Vettias, to which he seemed very interested. “What does someone from General Eumenes’ battle staff want with a pathetic nobody like you?”
“I honestly don’t know sir; I am just relaying his instructions,” I answered stutteringly.
“Well, I hope you told him where to find me,” were his parting words.
That night my nervous excitement about Vettias foiled my attempts to retire early and I only slept for about three hours before the morning horns were blown. The next morning our lochos continued with drills as Stephanos looked on. His ankle was now swollen and blue, preventing him from putting any weight on it. My mind was far from my lochos, however. During our exercises I allowed myself to wander far from our encampment on some important errand with Vettias. Would he come to our lochos during our drills and publicly call for me in front of my mates? I wished this not to be the case, for many would hold feelings of jealousy towards me and believe me unworthy, given their years of service and experience. I agreed with the ima
ginary sentiments I had ascribed to my mates and hoped Vettias would speak with me and Croesus in private. Croesus’ words also ran through my mind- why did a staff officer want anything to do with a nobody like me? Vettias’ own statement seemed to echo this notion when he explained he wanted someone that didn’t know anything. My uncertainty was exacerbated by Vettias’ belated arrival, prolonging my inner torment.
Dusk was approaching as I lay in my tent impatiently rustling from one position to the other when I heard Croesus summon me.
“Andrikos,” he yelled in a deep guttural tone.
I darted out of my tent and exclaimed, “Yes sir!”
“Report to my quarters!” I walked past Stephanos’ tent where he shot me an encouraging glance. As I approached, I felt fortunate that this meeting was taking place when the rest of my lochos mates were preparing dinner. The short walk to Croesus’ tent seemed like an eternity, but luckily none of the tent occupants I passed seemed to notice or care about my summons.
I arrived at my destination to find Vettias seated on an upright log.
“Here he is,” Croesus announced. “Are you sure this is who you are looking for sir?”
“Yes lochagos, thank you,” Vettias replied. “I understand your confusion but let your judgment be comforted that it is his very naiveté that I desire. News has come from Egypt which even I am not fully privy to. I have been ordered to make an expedition south of here into Syria and I require an aide with some semblance of intelligence, yet willing to do as he is told at all times. I will have him back to you in short order and your lochos will be the stronger for it given the experience he is bound to gain.”
By the Sword Page 17
