Curious, and no longer afraid of the heights, she jumped and found herself gently floating toward the ground and the armies below. As she neared, it became apparent that the smaller fighting force was Greek and the larger one was Persian. Perhaps this meant that Persian occupation of her polis would soon be coming to an end! The battle was fierce, blood drenched the sandy soil underfoot, and men from both sides cried out in pain as steel blades cut through leather and bronze armor, slashing and piercing the delicate flesh underneath.
Then something caught her eye. A powerful black bull wandered amidst the battle. It looked straight at her, then turned and walked directly toward her, ignoring the battle around it.
Several Persian soldiers tried to attack the bull, but it gored them with its sharp horns without slowing its pace. She wasn’t sure why, but she was excited for the beautiful creature to reach her. It came within a few feet and stopped in front of her, lowering its head to the ground. Thermiandra reached a hand out to touch it, but suddenly noticed that her hand was covered in blood. She snapped it back, as though stung, and found herself walking along the beach once again.
This time it was different. It was daylight. The rocks were gone, though the faceless figures remained. She was by the docks of a polis. She looked around, realizing that this was not her polis of Cyme, but someplace she did not remember ever traveling to. Judging by the clothing worn by the people, the prevalence of statuary, and the gold that adorned so many of the nearby fixtures, it appeared wealthier than most places in Greece that she was aware of. When she looked toward the polis center, she noticed a rocky mound with steep sides. Upon it was a great temple with rows upon rows of massive pillars. “Athens,” she said to herself. Long had she dreamed of visiting this polis, and the sight before her was beautiful. She traveled quickly through the streets, almost floating through the agora, and up the hill to the acropolis. Priests milled about, offering prayers to the various gods worshipped there, while a procession of citizens lined up to the Parthenon from the polis below. Sitting at the entrance of the temple was a group of white-robed priestesses and polis leaders, who accepted the people’s offerings. The gifts included grains, figs, meat, and personal belongings. Upon setting them down before the assembled leaders, the items burst into flame and disappeared, taken by the goddess Athena.
She was enjoying the sights and sounds of the greatest polis in all of Greece when suddenly a great shadow fell over them all. A massive storm cloud appeared, blotting out the sun and the blue sky. It became as dark as night and the people in the streets began to panic. Thermiandra stood still, watching them flee in terror. They ran away from the Parthenon, down the hillside, and back to their houses. But shortly after their exodus, a wave of fire spread out over the polis and their houses burst into flame while the Parthenon remained untouched. Something horrible was taking place and she was powerless to stop it.
Thermiandra ran toward a woman who was trying to reach her home. A baby was cradled in her arms. Thermiandra was horrified at the thought of seeing the child hurt.
The dark haired woman turned to her, but she was not like any woman Thermiandra had ever laid eyes on before. Her skin was not simply radiant, but actually emitted a faint glow. Nor was the baby a baby at all, but a tiny winged figure that danced on the palm of her hand.
The goddess looked at her and smiled. “Thermiandra, your help is needed.”
“I don’t understand,” Thermiandra said.
“All will become clear in time. You must seek out the son of Zeus.”
“I don’t understand,” Thermiandra repeated.
“Your time in this place is at an end. Leave and seek the son of Zeus, before it is too late,” said Athena.
“How will I know him?” Athena asked.
“When you find him, you will recognize him.” With that, the goddess quickly faded into nothingness and Thermiandra found herself on the rocky beach just outside of Cyme, with those odd faceless, motionless people surrounding her once more. This time they were turned toward her, as if expecting her to do something.
She had woken with a start at that point, only to see the warm sunlight filtering through the gauzy curtains over her window. For ten years this palace had been her home.
She knew that it was finally time for her to leave.
There was no moment of uncertainty. She gathered up a few belongings, slipped on a decorative chiton, and pulled an ornate linen hood over her head, then stepped out of her room. She rushed through the hallway of her home, down the stairs, and out into the courtyard below. She passed by the people without drawing attention to herself, and then she hurried away from the palace. She had faith that the goddess would lead her to where she needed her to go and offer her protection. Suddenly a thought occurred to her. If the goddess did not provide guidance, she would likely perish before long in the wilderness.
Chapter 4
The Banks of the Granicus
Pelephon learned early on that Heliodas could be trusted, both as a friend and on the field of battle. Granted, Alexander’s army was yet untested against the Persians, but already the Greek had managed to break out of the rank and file of his countrymen and become a confidant of the Macedonian king. His friend did not tell him what was said in the tomb of Achilles, but that evening, after Alexander sacrificed several cattle at the tombs to thank the gods for his victory, the young king stopped by their encampment and informed the pair that they were being promoted to his personal guard. Pelephon accepted the promotion with some trepidation. Where many generals chose to command an army from behind the lines, Alexander did so from the front, leading every battle in which he had participated. In addition to this, if there were any serious dissent within the army, they would be on the front lines against the insurrection. He did take some comfort in the fact that there were five priests of Ares among Alexander’s guard, which meant that there was divine healing available in a battle, though such healing would not likely benefit them since it was intended to be reserved for the king.
Over the following days, one of the things Pelephon began to appreciate about his new position was that he was becoming privy to the workings of Alexander’s inner circle. His top generals were suddenly more than the severe men he had previously seen riding through camp; they became individuals, with distinct personalities, agendas, and failings. Alexander’s second in command, Parmenion, was a careful strategist who was constantly insisting that the king slow down their approach and fortify their newly conquered polis before continuing the march. He was an older man with short-cropped steely gray hair, a weathered angular face, and a wiry but powerful build. Pelephon noticed that he rarely displayed any sense of humor, and he favored his son Philotas, who was nearly the same age as Alexander. Pelephon quickly learned that the joke among the guards was that when Parmenion made a recommendation to the king, they had to figure out how it benefitted Philotas. Despite the favoritism, or because of it, Alexander kept the general’s son at arm’s distance, and there was a rumor that the two mildly disliked one another. Pelephon suspected that Parmenion wished that Alexander and his son could be friends, but that appeared unlikely.
Instead, Alexander’s best friend in the army was Cleitus the Black, the king of Bactia, a six-foot tall man with very dark skin and who appeared to be sculpted from solid muscle. While their relationship was purely professional among the troops, the two would retreat to Alexander’s tent in the evening and indulge in a great deal of wine consumption. Pelephon suspected that Cleitus was at least a decade Alexander’s senior, but the two related on the same terms. Cleitus often spoke of his exploits with women and scoundrels during his younger years in Bactia while Alexander would talk of the battles he had fought in the northern region of Macedonia. As night would wear on, conversation often turned to philosophical musings that were inspired by his time as a student in Athens. Shortly after assuming his new duties, Pelephon saw the pair send for three women of Ilion and enjoy the girls’ attention together. Witnessing this event merely
frustrated Pelephon. The king was entitled to act as he chose, but like the other soldiers, Pelephon was not allowed to leave camp to find a whore in the polis, nor was he interested in taking his pleasures with another soldier. There were many who preferred the intimate company of their fellow men, but such dalliances had never appealed to him. As far as he’d been able to tell, Heliodas was not thus inclined either.
After three days at Ilion, the consensus was that the presence of an army of this size would not remain secret from the Persians for long, so they decided to break camp and march to the east. It was mid-spring, and the hot, dry conditions would prevail until late fall. For Pelephon, this meant that he would need to be sure that his skin was as full as possible since they were unlikely to see free-flowing water again until they reached the Granicus River.
As the army marched, Pelephon rode alongside Heliodas and asked, “So how do you suppose that the two of us come to be in Alexander’s personal guard?”
Heliodas shrugged. “We train hard, we’ve bested many of his better soldiers in sparring, and I think he enjoys our debates.”
Pelephon felt that there was something more to it than that. “I noticed that he has been a friend to you since the two of you entered the tomb of Achilles. It is as though you shared something there that neither of you wishes to acknowledge.”
Heliodas smirked. “You sound jealous. I was unaware that you felt that way about me.”
Pelephon chuckled slightly and decided to clarify. “It is not that I feel that way toward you, but I am curious how we rose so quickly through the ranks.”
Heliodas’ face broke into a wide grin and he clapped Pelephon on his shoulder. “Given your shyness around the camp’s women, I sometimes wonder.”
“It is not shyness,” Pelephon protested. “There are few women in our camp, and those we have are normally under the protection of the men they are already close to. Besides, you well know that even if that weren’t the case, Alexander forbids it.”
“So you don’t like men and you’re forbidden from women. What do you do for enjoyment in Macedonia?” Heliodas asked.
Realizing that Heliodas had attempted to change the subject, Pelephon turned the conversation back to the matter at hand. “It is unimportant. What is important is why Alexander picked us for his personal guard. I have been part of his army for years and he had not given me such an honor.”
“Your king has taken a liking to the pair of us. We are lucky in that regard. It is not an unfamiliar position for me, as I was among Demosthenes’ personal guards before joining the army. I suspect that our new duties are related to this,” Heliodas said.
“That would make sense,” Pelephon said, though he suspected that there remained something important that his friend was not telling him.
Days passed as the army made its way east. Pelephon could tell that Alexander was becoming nervous about the lack of Persian resistance thus far. Their progress had been so easy that many within the army were being lured into a false sense of security. To listen to some talk, it was almost as though the Persian Empire had already fallen and nobody had bothered to inform Alexander. This feeling of safety would come to an abrupt end as the army neared the Granicus River.
A pair of scouts returned from the field, riding their horses directly toward Alexander. “My king, we have seen the enemy on the far banks of the river,” one of them said.
Alexander smiled in obvious excitement. It was a dark, sly smile, and one that sent a chill up Pelephon’s spine. “Tell me what you saw,” said the king.
“We arrived within sight of the west banks of the river and we looked across,” said the scout. “On the opposite bank, we saw massive numbers of the enemy. There are thousands of them. We saw cavalry, archers, and pikemen. There may have been more than that, but we were afraid that we would be discovered if we stayed too long.”
Alexander smiled. “At long last! How far?”
“No more than five miles,” said the scout. The scout then went on to describe the arrangement of the opposing force.
“Thank you for your report,” Alexander said. The scout moved away from the king as Alexander called his generals to him. He quickly explained the situation to them and called for the army to make a rapid advance.
The gray haired Parmenion rode alongside Alexander. “It is getting late today. It would be best if we let the soldiers rest and attack in the morning.”
Alexander frowned. “No doubt the Persians know that we’re here; therefore they would expect us to do exactly as you suggest. We should not allow them to choose the time and place of the battle. That would give them the advantage. If we make haste to the river, we could cross it easily enough and catch them in a relatively unprepared state.”
“But the soldiers are tired. If we attack tonight, we will lose many of them unnecessarily.”
“I value your input, but we strike tonight,” Alexander said simply.
With that proclamation, there was no need for further discussion. The decision was made and they would plunge headlong against the enemy before darkness fell. Alexander and Parmenion formulated a battle plan, which would begin with a feint to the left that would engage the cavalry, and he believed, draw their best defenders away from the more vulnerable portions of their army. This would expose their more numerous and vulnerable foot soldiers. Alexander dispatched runners to the various units of his army, and Pelephon prepared for the coming battle. As part of Alexander’s personal guard, it would be their duty to protect the Macedonian king at all costs.
The army began a rapid advance and in little time the Granicus River came into view, as did the soldiers on the opposite side. Pelephon could see thousands of them from their position, and they were stationed just beyond the river banks. They could also see horse-mounted soldiers brandishing spears, chariots with archers standing at the ready, and elephants in the background.
“They use elephants as mounts?” Heliodas asked in amazement.
“Elephants are amazing mounts!” Pelephon replied. “They have tough hides, which don’t let arrows penetrate very far into their flesh. I’ve heard stories of elephants coming through battles with arrows sticking from their hides in all directions, yet they remained standing. They’re also the biggest things on the battlefield, so they don’t frighten easily. Truly amazing opponents, with or without riders.”
“So how do we take them down?” Heliodas asked.
“Axes and spears. You chop them to bits, hopefully before they run you down.”
In the distance Pelephon could see Parmenion lead the cavalry and light infantry toward the Persians. With a bloodthirsty cry from the thousands of onrushing soldiers, the battle was begun. The army rapidly forded the river, then ran uphill, meeting the enemy soldiers halfway up the banks. The long Macedonian spears impacted with the Persian cavalry with a thunderous clamor. They could hear the sound of weapons clattering on armor and arrows whistling through the air. All the while Alexander stood among his men with his hand held straight up, indicating that they were to hold their position.
Pelephon stayed back with the majority of the army, watching line after line of Macedonian soldiers as they half walked and half swam through the river, adding support to those who had already engaged the Persian army. All the while, the front lines held steady despite the force of the Persian cavalry charging at them. Pelephon was well aware that standing against the onslaught was a losing proposition, but the soldiers continued bravely as more and more of their countrymen crossed the river and filled their rear ranks. After five minutes of intense fighting, a trumpet blew and Parmenion signaled the army to retreat to the left, away from the center of the Persian army.
Pelephon watched tensely as the Persians fell for the ploy. As the Macedonian army made a fighting withdrawal away from the main enemy force on the opposite side of the river, the Persian cavalry followed. Once he could see that the opposing army had split, Alexander hefted his spear overhead and charged forward with a cry. The cavalry surrounding
him did likewise as the area behind them filled with spearmen who followed.
Pelephon looked to his right and saw Heliodas, steely determination in the Greek warrior’s eyes. To his right was the powerful Cleitus the Black, who looked so fierce atop his horse that Pelephon believed that the man did not need the spear and sword he was armed with, but could have bested his opponents with his bare hands.
On the other side of Cleitus was Alexander. Young for a general, with golden hair, a golden-tan complexion, heavy bronze armor, and a white cape, he stood tall, with the shield of Achilles in hand. He appeared as a god among his men on the battlefield. Pelephon had seen the Macedonian king in battle before, and he was always the paragon of soldiers, leading his troops into the frightful chaos of battle by example, and never backing down from an enemy, no matter how skilled, savage, or overwhelming they appeared.
The horses made quick work of the river, and moments later they were galloping up the far banks and into the lines of the Persian army. Pelephon could tell that the feint was successful and the soldiers remaining at this location were caught off guard by the size of the force bearing down on them. Most of the soldiers they faced were spearmen. As the Macedonian and Greek soldiers plunged headlong into the ranks of the enemy, Pelephon saw a mounted opponent with his spear held aloft charging toward him. The well-muscled soldier deflected the incoming spear to the left with his own, steered his horse into the gap he created, drew back his weapon, and plunged it into the chest of the man before he could react. Pelephon heard a strangled cry as the soldier fell.
Meanwhile, the line of Alexander’s soldiers slowed as they made contact with the Persians so as to avoid sacrificing their mounts for a few quick kills. Pelephon used his higher position to his advantage, jabbing at one enemy after another in rapid succession. He counted four men down while he and his horse remained uninjured.
To his left, he saw that Alexander had skewered two men at once with his spear, then quickly abandoned it in the impaled and dying men and switched to his sword. All the while, Cleitus smashed into the ranks of the soldiers with his spear in his left hand and his sword in his right. The enemy did not last long against the ebony giant. Pelephon saw wave after wave of the foot soldiers fall to the mighty warrior as he slashed and jabbed them with unmatched speed and ferocity.
Echoes of Olympus (The Atheniad Book 1) Page 6