Alexander

by H A CULLEY

  However, one thing Antigonus had achieved was the pacification of the Agriani. He had killed their king in battle and placed the former king’s cousin, Langarus, on the throne. The man was therefore well disposed to the Macedonians and agreed to help Alexander to conquer the Tribalia, the tribe that dominated the country from Mount Haemus to the Danube. He wasn’t entirely motivated by gratitude or friendship; he knew that if the Tribalia were defeated the Agriani would become the dominant tribe in the area.

  Iphitos listened to the scout’s report. His patrol had seen a large number of tribesmen manning the heights above the valley down which the army would have to march. What had surprised the scouts had been the sight of oxen hauling carts up the steep slopes of the mountain. He decided he needed to know more about these carts and so he sent for Enyo and Theon.

  During the previous day the two had found an animal track up a nearby hill from where they had a good view of the surrounding countryside. One of the things they had noted was a clearly marked track the other side of a side valley between their hill and the bulk of Mount Haemus itself. It led up to a position from where they should have a view across the where the scouts had seen the carts.

  That evening they found the start of the track and camped there, waiting for darkness. It was difficult to follow the track at night, but they managed to carefully navigate it in the moonlight until they reached a position from where they should be able to see over the ridge where the carts had disappeared. They cuddled together under their blankets and waited for dawn.

  The sunlight crept over the rock covered slopes of the mountain until it illuminated the area where the carts had disappeared. Now they could see they were lined up along a ridge above the valley where the army would shortly be marching. The Tribalia were loading them with rocks and their intention became obvious. They intended to roll them down the mountainside into the column of Macedonians and Greeks. Some of the carts would crash into the soldiers crushing them to death; others would smash against rocks on the way down, releasing their load to rumble down the mountain to start an avalanche of rocks which would kill even more than the laden carts. They had to get back and warn Iphitos.

  They scrambled back down the track as fast as they could, careless of being seen. When they reached the bottom they retrieved their horses and galloped down the valley past the startled screen of scouts, shouting for them to stay where they were, until they reached Iphitos. He halted the vanguard and sent them back to inform Alexander, who came cantering up with Parmenion and Hephaestion; Hector trailed behind his father and the king in case he was needed to go and fetch someone else.

  ‘Thank you Theon, we would have walked into a trap if it hadn’t been for you, and Enyo too, of course,’ he added seeing the flash of annoyance in her eyes.

  If Alexander wasn’t exactly a misogynist, he tended to think of women as second class citizens. Hephaestion was well aware of this trait in his friend and blamed it on his mother. They discussed the options and then Hector was sent away to find the commanders of both the peltasts and the light spearmen.

  -X-

  The Tribalia had expected the Macedonians to walk into their trap a few hours after dawn. They had neglected to send scouts of their own back along the valley to watch for the enemy army and so they had to wait until the first of the column appeared around an outcrop half a mile before the ambush site. Finally, just after the sun had reached its zenith, the vanguard marched into view. The Tribalia weren’t interested in the scouts or the cavalry that made up Iphitos’ command. They knew that this wasn’t horse country and waited patiently for their target: the thousands of hoplites that made up the main bulk of Alexander’s army.

  When the hoplites appeared the Tribalia pushed the carts over the edge and watched as they careered down the mountainside. About half smashed into rocks on the way down and disgorged their load, which then rumbled on down, cannoning into other rocks which joined the avalanche heading for the massed ranks below.

  Normally the phalanx marched in formation, either sixteen or eight ranks wide, depending on the terrain. However, today Alexander had ordered them to march in ranks of four and had spaced each rank out so that there was a gap between them. He had correctly assumed that the tribesmen wouldn’t be aware of the change.

  When the carts started their downward journey the hoplites now had room to move out of the way so that they careered through their ranks without doing any damage. Avoiding the shower of rocks was more problematical. Most made it but a few had to lie down with their shields covering their heads and torsos. A handful suffered broken legs and in one or two cases their shields didn’t save them, but only a few were lost.

  The Tribalia were all clustered at the top of the ridge from which they had launched the carts eagerly waiting to see the impact. The first thing they knew about the arrival of Alexander’s peltasts behind them was when a shower of arrows, javelins and stones struck them. Enyo and Theon had guided the peltasts and the light spearmen around the back of the ridge and up the goat tracks that led upwards to the ridge. The journey was hardly silent but the tribesmen were too busy jabbering amongst themselves to notice the sound of the odd stone skittering downhill or a muttered curse coming from the other side of the hill.

  They were caught totally unprepared and the peltasts had time for a second volley before the tribesmen realised what was happening. They turned around and, after a bit of initial confusion, charged towards them. However, the ranks of the peltasts parted and four thousand light spearmen appeared with Theon and Enyo in the forefront.

  Theon was armed with a short stabbing spear and a light shield whilst Enyo had opted for her bow and dagger. They worked as a pair; Theon would stab those who got too close whilst Enyo put arrow after arrow into the enemy at short range as soon as she had space to draw her bow. It was hot work and both were sweating profusely. Suddenly Theon was attacked by two tribesmen at once and he had to let Enyo fend for herself.

  He batted away the first man’s thrust with his own spear and caught the point of the other’s sword in his shield. Suddenly he kicked out with his leg, tripping the spearman who went headlong into the dirt. The move surprised the swordsman and Theon smashed him in the face with his shield. It wasn’t heavy enough to do any damage but it knocked him backwards. Pausing only to thrust his spear point into the prone warrior’s spine to incapacitate him, Theon followed up his advantage by feinting with his shield again. The other man, demoralised by the crippling of his friend, had had enough. After a half-hearted attempted to thrust at Theon again with his spear, the man turned and ran. Taking a deep breath to recover, Theon turned anxiously to check on Enyo.

  She had her own problems when Theon was attacked by the two tribesmen. She had just loosed an arrow and didn’t have time to nock another one to her bowstring before a large warrior ran at her. She couldn’t think what to do but acted on instinct. She dropped to one knee and the charging giant lost her from his vision. He was going too fast to stop and tripped over her crouching body, hitting the hard, rocky ground chin first.

  The impact broke his jaw and tore lumps of skin from his face. Instead of deterring him, it merely served to madden him and he got up lifting his sword with the intention of cleaving Enyo’s head in two. Some big men are light on their feet but this man was anything but nimble. By the time that he had got to his feet, shaking his head in an effort to clear away some of the pain he was experiencing, and located Enyo, she had a new arrow nocked in her bowstring and she unhurriedly put the arrow through the centre of his left eye. Once it entered his brain he was dead, but he remained on his feet with his sword lifted above his head for what to Enyo seemed like ages. Then he slowly sank to his knees and toppled over sideways. Grinning to assure each other that they were both well, she and Theon looked around for their next opponents, but it was all over.

  The peltasts and spearmen had killed or seriously wounded well over a thousand of the Tribalia and, although some six thousand remained, their morale had been shat
tered. Instead of inflicting crippling damage on Alexander’s army, the tables had been turned and more and more of them sought to escape by clambering down the mountainside to the valley, where the rest of the army were waiting.

  After some three thousand had been slaughtered, the remainder surrendered. Some escaped but the power of the Tribalia had been broken. Those who had been captured were taken along to be shipped off to the slave markets on the waiting transports when they reached the Danube. Their king was made to swear allegiance to Alexander and a thousand of the warriors who hadn’t been involved in the failed ambush were conscripted into the force to invade Persia as light spearmen. Once the Tribalia had been crushed the other, smaller tribes of Upper Thrace came in to make their peace with Alexander and two weeks later his army reached the River Danube.

  Chapter Fifteen – The Danube

  335 BC

  Iphitos, Theon, Enyo and Philomedes sat on the last ridge before the hills dropped down to the valley of the Danube. Below them the Thracian light cavalry were advancing towards the river, which glistened in the sun three miles away. So far they had encountered no-one this side of the river, but they could see a large campsite on the far bank.

  The fleet was spread out all along the near bank with many ships anchored further out but well away from the other side of the Danube. It didn’t take a genius to work out that the men encamped on the other side of the river weren’t friendly and had presumably fired on any ships that had strayed too close.

  Even from this distance it was evident that the banks of the river were boggy. Presumably the fleet had brought engineers and carpenters with them as men were busy building a wooden quayside over the boggy area so that the army could embark more easily. As they sat there, studying the ground from above, the senior engineer officer with the vanguard rode forward to join them.

  ‘That looks like the best spot for the camp,’ Iphitos suggested to the engineer, conscious of the fact, although far senior in rank, he was no longer the chief engineer. The man looked at the ground, presumably considering alternative sites, before he nodded.

  ‘Yes, kyrios, I agree. I’ll take my engineers down and start laying it out.’

  It was dusk before the rear of the column arrived, which meant that the soldiers in the rear guard had to find their leather tents in the baggage train and erect them in the dark. Alexander called a meeting of his senior officers and the two navarchs in command of the Macedonian and Athenian fleets.

  ‘What do we know about the barbarians camped on the far bank?’ he asked once the necessary introduction had been made.

  ‘They’re called the Getae, according to our Tribalian captives. Their main town - it can’t be called a city, it’s just a large collection of hovels from what I’ve been told - lies about five miles inland. They usually stay on their side of the Danube but they have been known to raid over this side.’

  ‘Thank you, Iphitos.’ He then turned to the two navarchus. ‘Have you been able to find out any more since you’ve been here?’

  They looked at each other before replying.

  ‘We were greeted by a volley of arrows and spears when we arrived so we’ve stuck to this side of the river. Whilst we’ve been here, more of their warriors have been arriving each day. Our estimate is that there must be about fifteen thousand of them now,’

  ‘Well, we’ll need the whole width of the river to manoeuvre such a large fleet and get everyone embarked, so we can hardly allow a hostile tribe to hold the far bank. We are going to have to annihilate them.’ He turned to Parmenion. ‘What’s your assessment?’

  If Parmenion was surprised by the brusque tone that the king used to him he hid it well. Alexander had recently appointed most of his boyhood companions to command positions, and even some young men like Philomedes who had entered his inner circle fairly recently had been elevated ahead of far more experienced officers. Apart from himself, Antipater and Antigonus, the oldest of his senior officers now was Iphitos, and he was only thirty five. He took some comfort from the fact that he had done well in Anatolia and that his three sons were in positions of some importance.

  ‘I quite agree that we need to destroy the Getae and so secure both banks of the river. Perhaps we could populate the area with the Agriani?’

  At this suggestion Langarus’ eyes lit up greedily. Already his lands had expanded at the expense of the defeated Tribalians and now it seemed that he might become master of both banks of the Danube.

  ‘As to defeating the Getae,’ he continued, ‘I suggest that we embark as many of the army as we can on the triremes and land them further downstream. They could sail with the transports and their escorts carrying the captive Tribalians to the slave markets so as not to raise suspicion.’

  Alexander nodded. ‘How many can we ferry across the river?’

  ‘Probably about eight thousand in one lift, basileus, provided we don’t need to embark horses.’

  ‘We will be at a disadvantage without cavalry,’ Parmenion interrupted and Iphitos nodded his agreement.

  ‘Basileus, I have an idea. If we use some of the men’s leather tents we can sew them up and fill them with air. We can then use them as buoyancy to help the horses and their riders swim across the Danube.

  ‘Good. I’ll leave the two of you to work out the details. One thing, though, King Langarus. As you will benefit by this, your men will provide the light infantry for this operation.’

  -X-

  Philomedes didn’t think that he had ever been so cold. Along with an epihipparchia of Illyrian heavy cavalry and seven hundred Agrianian mounted tribesmen he was crossing the Danube on a moonless night. It hadn’t rained recently so the current wasn’t as strong as it might have been; nevertheless the mass of men clinging to their horses’ manes were being swept downstream and were in danger of missing the sandy beach which was their intended point of exit. If they went beyond it they would be into the start of the boggy area. Not only would that make it difficult to get back onto dry ground, but they would be too near the Getae encampment for comfort.

  Just when he had given up hope of making the beach safely, the current slackened and his horse started to make progress towards the far bank. Ten minutes later he staggered out of the river and collapsed onto the sand with relief.

  ‘Get out of the way, you stupid sod; there are others trying to get out of this bloody river.’

  As everyone was naked with their weapons, armour and clothing wrapped up in a leather bag waterproofed with lanolin, there was no way of telling rank. Sheepishly Philomedes got to his feet and stumbled the rest of the way to the top of the sandy area, trying to get some feeling back into his chilled limbs. He shook himself to get the worst of the water off him and quickly got dressed.

  His Pathfinders had been the first to enter the water but some were slower than others and they had got mixed up with the Agrianian light cavalry. It proved to be something of a problem to sort everyone into their units. Eventually he had to go amongst the throng, pushing his men to the right and the Agriani to the left. He just managed to sort everyone out before the Macedonian heavy cavalry epihipparchia started to arrive.

  As sunrise approached he rode towards the Getae position with the commander of the Agriani, the Illyrian epihipparchos and Ptolemy, now a taxiarch, who was in command. They halted, still hidden in the grey of the pre-dawn. They had headed inland so that they could approach from the north. Had they advanced directly along the river bank they would have had the sun in their eyes as they attacked.

  As the sun cleared the horizon they heard the sound of distant fighting, which intensified as they turned to head south towards the noise. Philomedes was getting impatient; he knew that Nearchos, who led the infantry force that was already engaging the enemy, was outnumbered by over two or three to one. He couldn’t understand why Ptolemy was advancing at a walk. However, just as he was about to make the mistake of asking Ptolemy why they weren’t going to the aid of Nearchos more quickly, the taxiarch told him to ride ahead a
nd check whether the enemy were now fully engaged with the Macedonian infantry.

  ‘I don’t want to enter the fray whilst the enemy are still scattered. We want them concentrated so that they are trapped between us,’ he explained.

  Philomedes nodded, thankful that he hadn’t questioned his commander’s judgement, and spurred ahead with six of his men as escort. As they crested a low hill they could see the Getae encampment spread out below them. Nearchos had penetrated about a third the way into the camp, judging by the remains of campfires and the dead lying scattered on the ground, and his men were now stationary in a square formation with the Getae attacking on two sides and the river on the third. They appeared to be holding their own, but sheer weight of numbers and the obvious ferocity of the Getae attacks on them were wearing them down. He’d seen enough.

  When he reported back to Ptolemy the latter ordered his men to spread out into line and increased the pace to a canter.

  ‘Philomedes, you’ll take your men in wedge formation and charge into the barbarians immediately to our front. The Agriani will follow you and follow up your attack them once you have disrupted them; the Illyrians will swing around and attack the rear of the main mass on the western side of the battle. Clear? Good, let’s go.’

  -X-

  Nearchos was nervous. Like Alexander, he was twenty one and his rapid rise from King’s Companion to chiliarch and now to taxiarch had been meteoric. Like all those boyhood friends of Alexander’s who now held senior positions in the army, he had little experience of command or of the infantry. They had all been part of the mounted Companions and, although he knew theory of how the phalanx operated, he had only recently been drilling as part of it. He had even less knowledge of how the peltasts and light spearmen operated. Yet here he was, in command of five thousand hoplites, and a tagma each of peltasts and light spearmen. However, he was intelligent and was determined to live up to the trust that Alexander had placed in him.