Conquest of Persia

by Alexander Geiger

  Dareios read the missive slowly and with rising consternation. After reaching the end of the letter, he read it again. He shook his head, his face crimson with anger. “That’s impossible! And Ariobarzanes has disobeyed my direct order.”

  The outburst quieted the men in the room. They drew nearer to the throne, anxious to hear the details of the latest outrage against the dignity of the emperor. “What’s he say, your majesty?”

  “He says Alexandros is on the move. Supposedly marching on the royal road toward Persepolis. It’s absolutely ridiculous. It’s the middle of January.”

  “Well, the man has been known to do ridiculous things before.” This from Bessos.

  “But that’s the least of it.” Dareios was beginning to splutter. “Ariobarzanes, on his own initiative, has decided to block the royal road by building a wall across the Sousian Gates and to defend the wall by bringing most of the troops at his disposal into the Zagros Mountains.”

  “You must admit, your majesty, at least he’s doing something to defend his satrapy.” Bessos’s voice was dripping with sarcasm.

  Dareios stood up from his chair, towering over the assembled men, his voice ringing with rage. “He’s disobeying orders. There’s no chance Alexandros is on the march. And even if he were, Ariobarzanes’s orders were to bring his troops here to Ekbatana, surrendering Persepolis if necessary. Instead, most of my troops under his command are going to perish of cold and disease in the Zagros Mountains. In the middle of January – imagine that! I need those troops here, for the great counteroffensive I’m going to launch against the invader this spring.”

  “What would be the point, your majesty? You’d just run away as soon as battle was joined.”

  Dareios paused, unsure he’d heard correctly. “What d’you say?”

  Bessos walked up to the throne and raised himself to his full height. He was still forced to crane his neck to look at Dareios, who was a tall man, standing at the top of an elevated platform. “You heard me, your cowardly majesty.”

  “Seize that man!” Dareios’s voice reverberated from the rafters. Nobody moved. They all just laughed. And Dareios was trapped, with no way out.

  *******

  The plan was simple in principle. Only the execution was difficult. Alexandros left 5,000 troops, under Krateros’s command, encamped in front of the wall. Their orders were to keep as many campfires burning through the night as before, so as to conceal the departure of the majority of our force, and to await Alexandros’s signal. When the signal was sounded, they were to attack Ariobarzanes’s men on the wall with everything they had. The rest of us set off shortly after nightfall.

  The first stage of the so-called trail led straight up a sheer rockface. There was no trail, no path, no steps, no handholds. It’s possible some of those things existed in the summertime but in the dead of winter we were confronted by an almost vertical sheet of ice, with no illumination and no obvious way to scale it. We did what we could, inserting fingers into tiny cracks in the ice, trying to gain purchase for our toes on small outcroppings of rock, while hauling heavy swords at our sides and daggers clenched in our teeth.

  It took the entire night for our force of 10,000 to get to the top of the cliff. I have no idea how many men we lost in the process. I personally heard several fall but in the darkness it was impossible to see and the men were under orders to maintain strict silence no matter what. Scores of men must have fallen but not one of them yelled out as they descended weightlessly to certain death. Only the occasional dull thud at the bottom of the ravine indicated another man lost. Once we reached the top, our first job was to scramble away from the edge, to increase our margin of safety and to conceal our presence from the enemy. Then we were given an hour of rest. We had no food but we drank snow that we melted in our hands and mouths.

  That day we covered ten miles of treacherous, icy, invisible trails, trying not to fall and slide off the edge while also remaining out of sight and utterly silent. When night fell, we could see the campfires of the enemy far below us. We had managed to slip-slide beyond the wall. All we had to do during our second frigid night under the stars, without any food and with very little rest, was to descend close to the enemy camp and lie in wait. Fortunately, the sides of the gorge became less precipitous as we made our way beyond the wall, with an occasional stunted tree or bush to aid in our mountaineering endeavors. One unlucky contingent of our comrades was dispatched by Alexandros to circle far behind the enemy camp and climb up the hill above them on the opposite side of the gorge.

  At dawn of the second day, still in total silence, we crept up to the sentries posted by Ariobarzanes and killed them. Two men were assigned to each guard, one to cut his throat and the other to catch the body before it could make a sound in the process of falling. When all the sentries were dead, we silently converged on the enemy camp, except for our reserves. Those men, left behind by Alexandros, continued to lurk in the hills above the camp and the road behind it. Then our trumpets rang out.

  At the first sound, with a tremendous roar, we sprinted forward, killing as we ran. Simultaneously, Krateros and his 5,000 men clambered over the wall. The enemy, asleep in their tents, didn’t know what hit them. Some tried to grab their weapons and fight back. They died where they stood. Some attempted to scramble up the hillsides, only to be cut down by the reservists we had left behind. Some attempted to surrender but we were too tired, too sleep-deprived, too hungry, too inflamed with bloodlust to take prisoners. Out of Ariobarzanes’s 25,000 infantry and 700 cavalry, only eight horsemen, including Ariobarzanes himself, managed to escape the slaughter.

  We resumed our march toward Persepolis the next day. We had provisions and some of us had horses but it was a nightmarish march: Howling winds, temperatures cold enough to freeze piss before it hit the ground, snowdrifts taller than a house, blinding blizzards, treacherous cliffsides. It’s a miracle any of us got through but Alexandros never slackened his pace.

  *******

  When Ariobarzanes’s small group was sighted by the sentries atop the Persepolis city wall, his garrison commander, a man by the name of Tiridates, marched out to greet him, accompanied by some of his soldiers. Tiridates offered food and wine to the tired and bloody Ariobarzanes. He listened sympathetically to the tale of woe recounted by the satrap. When he had ascertained all the facts, Tiridates calmly walked up to Ariobarzanes and stabbed him to death. No one from either Ariobarzanes’s small group or Tiridates’s squad raised any objection. In Persia the consequences of a military defeat were usually fatal.

  As soon as Tiridates returned to his barracks, he dictated a letter to Alexandros, offering to surrender the city and all it contained, without condition. This too was apparently in keeping with Persian conceptions of loyalty.

  In his letter, Tiridates urged utmost speed, citing the possibility of a Persian relief force under the command of Dareios arriving in Persepolis before Alexandros could occupy the city. This was a highly unlikely exigency but perhaps Tiridates thought it possible. Certainly, having dispatched an unauthorized letter of surrender, he expected to be safer in the hands of the Macedonians than surrounded by his own soldiers.

  Alexandros decided to redouble our already suicidal pace. He left all infantry behind and we, the Companion Cavalry, set off for Persepolis, literally at breakneck speed.

  *******

  We were finally leaving the worst of the mountains behind when our progress was halted by a peculiar delegation. The first oddity were their greetings, which were in Greek. When we halted, we noticed they were all elderly men, dressed in rags, notwithstanding the harsh weather. But they definitely spoke Greek. A couple of them leaned on crutches, each missing a foot. Then we noticed some men shorter than the rest because they were missing both their feet. We realized many of them lacked one of their hands; some were missing both hands. When we took a closer look under their hoods, we saw that almost all of them were horribly disfigured, with brands burnt into their foreheads and their noses and ears h
acked off.

  Alexandros was shocked. “Who are you? Who did this to you?”

  Their story emerged gradually. They had fought as mercenaries on the side of the Persian nobles who had rebelled against the new Emperor Artaxerxes Tritos, known as Ochos. Ochos eventually won and the nobles (including Artabazos, the father of Barsine) fled. Their Greek mercenaries, having chosen the wrong side, were killed or, if they were lucky, merely mutilated and confined to a desolate village in the foothills of the Zagros mountains.

  Alexandros, outraged, promised to avenge their torments and offered to send them back to their homes in Greece, laden with gifts. The men asked for time to consider the offer. They met in assembly (there were about 800 of them) and debated. Eventually, their delegation returned and informed us that they had voted to remain where they were. “We’ve lived here most of our lives; we have wives and children; we’ve gotten used to our circumstances. If we went home, nobody would know who we were. We’d be objects of curiosity or pity or derision. We prefer to stay and die here.”

  Alexandros promised to send back clothes and provisions and any other supplies they might need. He also exempted them and their descendants from all taxes in perpetuity. Then, having said his goodbyes, he heeled Boukephalas into a gallop, even more anxious to get to Persepolis than before.

  *******

  We had covered the distance from Sousa to Persepolis in record time – less than three weeks – notwithstanding the slight delay at the Sousian Gates. Tiridates met us just outside the city walls, offering bread and salt. When Alexandros learned of Ariobarzanes’s demise, he placed Tiridates under arrest. He didn’t approve of traitors, even when their betrayals accrued to our benefit, and he especially didn’t like soldiers who murdered their commanding officers. Tiridates was never heard of again.

  We entered Persepolis unopposed. The small garrison, finding itself leaderless and outnumbered, melted away. Once the walls, fortifications, and military barracks had been secured, we gathered in the market square, where Alexandros addressed us. I expected the usual admonitions to treat the residents, who had not fought against us, with respect, to pay for what we took, and to refrain from destroying what was already ours.

  Alexandros made a different speech. He reminded his soldiers of the outrages inflicted on Greece by Persian troops who invaded the Greek mainland under the original Dareios. He spoke about the burning of Athens and the desecration of Greek temples by Persian troops led by Xerxes. He grew indignant at the treatment of our wounded and defenseless veterans by the current Dareios just before the Battle of Issos. He bemoaned the comrades we’d lost at the Sousian Gates. And he raged as he recalled the elderly Greek soldiers we’d encountered a few days earlier.

  “These people are savage barbarians who have mutilated our soldiers, outraged our women and children, and burned down our cities. Do with them as you wish. Take from them what you will. And stay safe. Make sure they can’t do any harm to you or your comrades, now or in the future. Just remember, the royal quarter, the palace, treasury, akropolis, and all the temples are mine. Leave those alone.”

  The soldiers got the message. They’d been kept in check in Egypt, in Babylon, in Sousa. All their pent-up frustrations, avarice, and fury were released. An orgy of killing and looting ensued. Civilians – men, women, and children – were murdered in the streets and in their homes, unless they managed to commit suicide first. Anything of value – statues, carpets, paintings, jewelry, gold, silver, ivory, precious stones – was looted. Anything too heavy to carry off was wantonly destroyed. When rival gangs of soldiers happened to enter a house simultaneously, they smashed priceless works of art into pieces, so each group could add a fragment to its collection of booty. Eventually, the soldiers ran out people to murder and houses to ransack so they turned on each other. They fought and tried to steal each other’s spoils. They injured and killed one another. It was the most shameful moment in the long and storied history of the Companion Cavalry. And Alexandros simply stood aside and watched.

  The magoi, including Ardumanish, the chief magos, were not harmed. They were simply captured and handed over to Alexandros. The royal palace, the treasury, and the akropolis escaped looting and destruction. The entire royal quarter remained out of reach of our marauding men.

  Eventually, the looters ran out of energy, got drunk, and went to sleep. The sacking of Persepolis was finished.

  *******

  A few days after the pillaging of Persepolis, the Silver Shields, who had fought with us at the Sousian Gates, made it to the city, dismayed to discover they’d missed out on all the plunder. Three weeks later, the bulk of our army arrived, along with the baggage train. Parmenion, upon being briefed on developments, bit his tongue.

  The entire army bivouacked in tents outside the city walls. Alexandros made daily visits to the royal palace, seeing to his administrative duties and conducting regular business in the Apadana. He dressed in the height of Persian royal fashion and strictly enforced Persian royal protocol during his audiences.

  When told by his Khaldaian shamans that the signs were propitious, he had the Persian magoi brought in. He demanded that they preside over his installation as emperor of Persia. Ardumanish, displaying a good deal of courage in light of the carnage recently visited on his city, flatly refused. He explained to Alexandros that the imperial installation ceremony could only be conducted during the annual New Year’s Festival, which occurred shortly after the spring equinox. Alexandros shrugged and told him he would wait. Ardumanish refrained from mentioning that there was no chance the magoi would ever acquiesce in legitimizing Alexandros’s seizure of power.

  Alexandros spent the rest of his time until the New Year’s Festival taking stock of his newly-acquired possessions, tallying the riches in the treasury, touring the sights, and hunting in the mountains around Persepolis. The size of the imperial treasury was astonishing, even after Sousa. The tally of gold and silver alone had reached 120,000 talents when Alexandros decided we’d counted long enough. He was now wealthier than all the Greeks in the world combined. There was so much treasure, it became a logistical problem. Alexandros only wanted to keep enough coin with him to finance his immediate needs. The rest he wanted locked up in a secure location and he didn’t believe Persepolis offered such a place. Therefore, he sent out an order commandeering every available beast of burden from Sousa and Babylon. In due course, a caravan of 20,000 mules and 5,000 camels transported all this treasure to Sousa, where it was inventoried and immured in the fortress, side-by-side with all the treasure already there.

  *******

  Having taken care of business, it was time for some pleasure, starting with the usual round of sightseeing. After much searching, we even managed to find a Greek-speaking guide for Alexandros – no mean feat, considering the small number of civilians left alive in Persepolis. He was no Indabibi, and he was scared out of his mind, but he knew his stuff. It turned out Persepolis was in many ways similar to Sousa. This was no accident. Construction of both royal palaces had been started by the first Dareios, more or less simultaneously. He used the same architects, designers, and craftsmen. The idea in both cases was to build a great royal complex and let the city develop around it. In fact, the civilian population of Persepolis was even smaller than in Sousa because Persepolis didn’t exist as a city until Dareios started his building project. Sousa had been inhabited for thousands of years before the arrival of the Persians.

  There were other differences between the two cities, beginning with their location. Sousa was situated in a sheltered, humid, warm valley. Persepolis was to be sited in a much colder spot high up on the wind-swept Persian plateau. In both cases, Dareios wished to build his palace on a raised platform but there were no soft, flat expanses where Persepolis was destined to arise. Everything had to be built on terraces laboriously clawed out of mountainsides. Half of the great platform on which the Persepolis palace complex stood was created by quarrying stone out of a mountain; the resulting stone was then us
ed to create the other half of the platform. As a result, the platform backs up against a sheer rockface on one end and stands high above the surrounding terrain on the other. However, the platforms in Sousa and Persepolis cover roughly the same acreage and the buildings on both are quite similar. Another point in common between the two is that first Dareios didn’t live long enough to see either one of the palaces completed. They were both finished by his grandson Artaxerxes many years after his death.

  Instead of a causeway, the Persepolis platform was approached by a wide staircase clinging to the steep, high, front side of the platform, switching back and forth as it climbed to the ceremonial gatehouse, known as the Gate of All Nations. This was a large hall, built during the reign of Xerxes, whose main purpose was to advertise the extent and power of the Persian Empire. Both sides of the hall were embellished with numerous murals, bas-reliefs, and sculptures, all designed to illustrate the multi-national effort that went into building the palace complex. Above these decorations ran friezes capturing the arrival of ambassadors from all the vassal nations of the empire, each one wearing national dress and bearing gifts, and all closely controlled and supervised by the emperor’s Immortals. Finally, occupying a prominent spot right at the entrance was a plaque, in three languages, informing all visitors that, “Xerxes built this,” which was only partially true.

  There were gates leading out of this hall toward the Apadana and toward the back of the palace. Everything about the Persepolis palace complex, including the Apadana, the Throne Room, the treasury, and king’s private quarters, was larger, more lavish, and generally more over the top than even the already excessive analogous spaces at Sousa.

  The biggest difference between the two cities, however, was that Persepolis was unquestionably the spiritual center of the Persian Empire. It was the location of the annual New Year’s Festival, the place where Persian emperors were installed on the throne and where they were eventually buried, and the home seat of their principal deity Ahura Mazda. The only problem with Persepolis was that it was just too cold to live in during the winter, just as it was too hot to live in Sousa in the summer.