by H A CULLEY
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Iphitos wasn’t comfortable about sending Enyo and Theon to survey Sparta’s defences but he didn’t have much option. That’s why they were with the army. Unlike other Greek cities they had obtained intelligence about in the past, Sparta was a place in which only Spartans and their Helot slaves lived. There were no merchants from other Greek cities and trade wasn’t carried out on land. All trade of that type came into the port to the south of Sparta. Only Helots visited the city from the north when they brought in farm produce for sale or pay their taxes.
There wasn’t even an agora inside the city of Sparta. The daily market was set up on the plain to the north of the city. The chances of the two lovers passing themselves off as innocent visitors was therefore nil. Theon had interrogated scores of Helots during Philip’s rampage through Laconia but none of them had ever been further than the market. They did confirm, however, that there were no walls around Sparta.
‘They don’t need them,’ one Helot, more helpful than most, explained. ‘The place looks like a death trap, as far as I could see anyway.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, I could see one broad street running into the city but the few side streets visible from the outside seem very narrow, like alleyways really. The central street is lined with what appeared to me to be barracks but there are no doors facing onto the street, and no windows, just slits. They must be very dark inside.’
Iphitos mulled over what the man had said. The slits were presumably arrow slits and the entrances to the barracks must be down the alleys. However, the Helots’ farms had been pillaged and their livestock taken so there was no love lost between them and the Macedonians. He could well be lying. He needed Enyo and Theon to confirm it.
Helots were far from wealthy but a few had horses so Enyo and Theon set off the next morning on two of the smallest cavalry horses which were suitably nondescript in appearance. They dressed like helots, including the dog skin caps that Helots were made to wear by the Spartans to indicate their inferior status. They drove a small herd of goats ahead of them for sale in the market outside the city.
When they got there the area where the market was normally set up was practically deserted. The Macedonians had looted a lot of the produce that would normally be traded, and what the Helots had left they needed for themselves. There were just a few carts from which farmers were selling vegetables and a few pens containing goats, sheep and cattle, but there were many more empty pens. The Helots were outnumbered by Spartan women and a few men trying to buy what they could and several arguments were raging. Enyo suspected that the men were buying for the army.
Theon had hardly got their few goats into the pen when they were besieged by Spartan women wanting to buy them. Ten minutes later Enyo had sold the goats for ten times what they would have fetched in Pella. She had been careful to say as little as possible during the haggling as the Helot dialect of Greek sounded very different to her speech, which was somewhere between her original Thessalian and Macedonian. Theon said nothing. His Thracian accent would have sounded even more peculiar. Even so they had attracted some suspicious looks.
Leaving their horses tied up to the rails of the pen, they wandered around the market trying to see down the streets that led into the city. As the Helot who Iphitos had interviewed had said, there was only one main street and that was broad enough for three of four men riding abreast. The few other streets that led between buildings on either side of the main thoroughfare were narrow alleys no more than two or three feet wide. What they could see of the main street confirmed what the Helot had said and they both thought that the buildings that lined it were indeed barracks.
What really worried Theon was the building they could see at the end, which faced the entrance to the main street. Like the barracks it too had a blank wall pierced with slits but they were a little wider than would be necessary if they were designed for archers. They were even wider than would be needed to fire gastraphetes through. He had a nasty thought that, if the Spartans had something similar to the katapeltikons which Iphitos had designed for the Macedonian army, the large iron bolts they fired would do dreadful damage to an army trying to advance up the street. The Spartans had obviously designed the whole city with defence in mind.
As they surreptitiously examined the city a large number of men swarmed in from the alleys and formed up in the main street before marching out of the city. They headed for an area to the left of the market and started to drill and practice their weapon skills. As they watched boys started to appear from the hills to the west running towards the city. Evidently they had been out for an early morning run. Those in the lead were ephebes but they were followed by a large group of younger boys, some no more than six or seven.
Suddenly Theon grabbed Enyo’s arm and nodded his head towards the soldiers training half a mile away. Three of the women who had bid for their goats were talking animatedly to an officer mounted on a horse who was watching the training. He was evidently important as he had four cavalrymen with him as escort, one of whom carried a blood red banner, though they couldn’t make out the device on it in the still air.
When the five horsemen started to canter towards the market Enyo and Theon hurried back to their horses. By the time they were mounted the five Spartans had reached the edge of the market. They rode north at a walk in the hope that they wouldn’t attract attention but a sudden shout indicated that they had been spotted.
Luckily they were near the edge of the market area and they kicked their horses into a gallop. The Spartans behind them were hampered by people and stalls but they cleared the former out of the way with the butts of their spears and five minutes later they were able to set off in hot pursuit.
‘They’re gaining on us,’ Theon panted a few minutes later.
It was hardly surprising; they were mounted on small mares and the cavalrymen’s mounts were far superior.
Enyo pulled her horse to a stop and pulled her bow and quiver from out of the roll of goatskins tied behind her saddle. She took careful aim at the officer, who was now no more than a hundred and fifty yards away and let fly. The man was wearing a linothrax and an open-faced bronze helmet with a nose guard and a black and red crest. Later she learned that only the two Spartan kings wore such a helmet. The arrow struck the Spartan on the nose protector and it ricocheted into his left eye, piercing it and penetrating his brain by half an inch. It was enough to kill him.
The others yelled in dismay as he fell from his horse but only one of the escort, the man with the banner, pulled up and leaped off his horse to attend to him. The other three lashed their horses, determined now to kill the two strangers.
By the time that Enyo had a second arrow nocked the three men were only eighty yards away. Another man toppled from his saddle. It was a hurried shot and he had only been hit in the shoulder. Enyo drew a deep breath to calm herself as she pulled a third arrow from her quiver. By now the remaining two Spartans were only yards away. She couldn’t miss and she hit another man dead in the centre of his chest. At that range the arrow drove through the man’s boiled leather cuirass, bounced off one of his ribs, breaking it on the way, and lodged in his heart.
However this didn’t deter the one remaining man. He thrust his spear at Enyo just as Theon barged his heavy cavalry horse with his lighter one. The little mare bounced off the stallion but it was enough to deflect the man’s aim and the spear point missed her by a couple of inches as he careered past her.
The Spartan wheeled his horse to make another pass but she had whipped out another arrow. She only had a second or two so she aimed at the horse instead. The arrow pieced its chest and his front legs buckled, throwing its rider over its head. The cavalrymen landed heavily and his helmet rolled away, exposing his head. He was badly winded and, before he could recover, Theon had picked up the fallen spear and thrust it through his neck.
Enyo looked back towards the city and to her horror she saw what looked like at least a hundred horsemen gallop
ing towards them. They were less than half a mile away; the man with the banner had mounted again and was even nearer. On their stronger and bigger horses, they would soon catch the two spies on their inferior steeds.
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Iphitos gnawed his lower lip nervously. He was worried about his adopted daughter and the young man he had come to regard as his son-in-law, though they weren’t yet wed, and he wasn’t sure that they ever would be; Enyo wasn’t the type to settle down to a life of married bliss. He hadn’t want them to go on this mission. He knew they would stand out; they obviously weren’t Spartans or Helots and the former had a habit of killing first and asking questions later. The Helots weren’t much better. They were abused by the Spartans and had been for centuries, consequently they were a vindictive and brutal race. The autumn campaign to ravage Laconia hadn’t exactly endeared the Macedonians and their allies to them either.
In the end he went to see Alexander, who listened to him and agreed to his request. Not only that, he decided to accompany him. He was bored with life after the excitement of Chaeronea and his entry into Athens and he craved a little action.
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As Enyo and Theon raced across the farmlands to the north of Sparta their pursuers slowly gained on them. The first to reach them was the banner bearer but Enyo suddenly pulled back on the mount’s reins and turned sideways on so that she could get a clear shot at the man. He toppled from the saddle, his blood red banner, on which she glimpsed a Spartan helmet embroidered in black, fell to the ground. However, she had turned and raced after Theon before either hit the ground.
Now the main body of their pursuers were less than three hundred yards away and gaining all the time. Their own horses were tiring and Theon wished he had collected two of the loose Spartan horses when he had a chance. Riding them they might had stood a chance.
When the leading Spartans were just within range Theon slowed down so he could gasp at Enyo ‘take as many with us as we can?’
She nodded and they pulled up, turning to face the Spartans.
Suddenly their pursuers pulled their horses to a halt no more than two hundred yards from the two of them. Instead of circling them to make sure they couldn’t escape, as they had expected, the whole mass of them turned their horses and started to gallop back towards Sparta. It wasn’t until they felt the ground begin to shake under the impact of many hundreds of hooves that they turned to see Alexander and Iphitos riding towards them with a hipparchia of cavalry at their back.
After a tearful reunion on the part of Enyo and her father, Alexander suddenly pointed to the south. The Spartans were now over half a mile away but still about three miles from the city. A further hipparchia of Macedonian cavalry had appeared out of a side valley to cut off the Spartans line of retreat.
‘I hope that Hephaestion remembers that I want prisoners,’ Alexander muttered. However, it didn’t look as if the Spartans were about to surrender and they veered to the left to try and get around the oncoming Macedonians. They didn’t make it before the river prevented any further movement to the east. The Macedonians tore into them and a short but bloody skirmish ensued.
It was difficult to make out what was happening thanks to the dust being kicked up by the milling horses but they did see twenty or so Spartans make it clear of the melee and head for the city at a gallop. Alexander kicked his heels into Bucephalus and the rest followed him towards the fight. By the time they got there it was all over. Most of the Spartans were dead and the Macedonians were busy killing off the badly wounded. A few wounded men had been captured and five who looked to be no more than ephebes had surrendered. The wounded men kept spitting at them and cursing them so it looked as if they would be killed if the two groups weren’t kept apart. Evidently Spartans didn’t surrender willingly.
Suddenly one of the Macedonians called out and pointed towards the city. What looked like a thousand cavalrymen were cantering towards them. Even though numbers were evenly matched and there was nothing more that Alexander would have liked than to pit his epihipparchia against Sparta’s, he knew that it would achieve nothing and would risk the intelligence that Enyo and Theon had gathered, as well as that which the youths might be persuaded to reveal under torture. He didn’t hold out much hope of persuading the adult men to talk and so he had them killed before they mounted up again and headed back to camp with their prisoners.
The Spartans continued to follow them for several miles, but gave up when the Macedonian camp came into sight.
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Philip listed to Iphitos’ report carefully.
‘So it’s true that there are no defensive walls but, if I’ve understood you correctly, their city has been built so that an assault on it would be expensive in terms of manpower?’
‘Yes, basileus. It’s one large killing ground.’
‘Can’t we bombard these buildings with their arrow slits or set the city on fire using your artillery?’
‘The problem is range. We could probably hit the buildings close to the edge from a safe distant but that wouldn’t help us much. As for fire, they are built of baked bricks with clay tile roofs. They won’t burn very easily.’
‘I see.’
Whilst Philip was lost in thought Alexander spoke for the first time during the war conference.
‘Why do we need to attack Sparta, father?’
‘Because it’s the last Greek city opposing us. I don’t want to leave any enemies behind us when we attack Persia.’
‘Is it such a bad thing to leave them alone? That way they will threaten the rest of the Peloponnese, even though Sparta is a spent force militarily. They weren’t able to fulfil their commitment to support Athens, Thebes and Corinth last year because Argos and the other cities to their north prevented them from doing so. However, they are still have a reputation which makes them feared throughout the rest of Greece. If they pose a threat our allies, however little that threat is in reality, might not that help keep those allies united and loyal to you.’
Philip looked at his son with renewed respect.
‘Do we know who the king was that Enyo killed?’ he eventually asked.
‘It was probably Archidamus. He was the warrior. His fellow king is Cleomenes but he hasn’t established a reputation as a soldier; he’s much more of an administrator.’
‘Good, so it sounds as if your daughter has rid us of Sparta’s best commander, Iphitos. Well done. Who will succeed Archidamus?’
‘His eldest son, Agis, is the likely candidate but he is young and inexperienced.’
‘Very well. We’ll march on Sparta tomorrow morning but, unless they come out onto the plain to offer battle, which seems unlikely or they would have do so whilst we were attacking Laconia, we’ll withdraw after proving to the rest of Greece that they are spineless cowards who are too frightened to face us.’
‘I agree it’s unlikely, basileus,’ Parmenion added. ‘They have at most twelve thousand hoplites, three thousand Helots armed as light infantry and peltasts and a thousand cavalry; whereas we have thirty thousand infantry and five thousand cavalry.’
When the Macedonians appeared outside Sparta at noon the next day there was no sign of movement in the city. Philip thought that they might have at least sent out a delegation to try and negotiate, but the only sign that the place wasn’t deserted was the smouldering remains of a funeral pyre near the river, presumably it had been for King Archidamus.
After an hour of standing still under the hot sun Philip had had enough and the Macedonians turned and marched northwards.
Chapter Eight – The Greek Community
337 BC
Alexander paced up and down in agitation and even Hephaestion couldn’t calm him down. The previous year he had breathed a sigh of relief when the baby to whom Cleopatra Eurydice gave birth proved to be a girl. Named Europa, she was no threat to his position as his father’s heir, but when the Macedonian army returned to Corinth he learned that he now had a new baby half-brother called Caranus. If he grew up to adulthoo
d he could well challenge him for the throne. Even if he was still too young when Philip died, Attalus could try and get him elected as king with himself as regent. Attalus was seen as a military incompetent by the army but, for some reason which escaped Alexander, he was popular amongst the nobles.
The rumour that Alexander was really the son of Zeus persisted, though it was patently rubbish. Nevertheless doubts that he might be a bastard could damage him, and Caranus was undoubtedly Philip’s son.
‘You’ll make yourself ill if you continue with this, Alexander,’ his friend eventually scolded him in exasperation. ‘Forget Caranus and concentrate on consolidating your position as Philip’s natural successor. Be seen at his side at the forthcoming conference and use your charm to impress the delegates.’
All the Greek states, with the notable exception of Sparta, had sent representatives to the great assembly that Philip had called at Corinth in the spring of 337 BC. Even Syracuse had sent an embassy. There were two items on the agenda: the invasion of Persia and the election of the hegemon of all Greece who would lead it. There was no doubt in anyone’s mind that there was only one candidate – Philip of Macedon – but these matters had to be conducted properly.
Hephaestion had never seen his friend like this. He was always so decisive and self-confident; now it was if he had almost lost his belief in himself. There was no doubt that news of the birth of Caranus had come as a real shock to him. However, after Hephaestion had finished speaking Alexander stopped pacing and braced his shoulders back as if he had reached a decision.
‘You’re right, Hephaestion, as always. Besides, Caranus is a babe in arms and many children don’t survive infancy.’