The Strategos

by H A CULLEY

  Audata was silent for a moment, then nodded in resignation. You’re correct. I’ll let Parmenion know in the morning.’

  -o0o-

  She had never known pain like it. Audata and her four siblings had journeyed with Parmenion back to meet Philip as he finished expelling the Illyrian garrisons from the town that Bardylis had captured the previous year. There was no fighting involved; in fact, the Illyrians seemed relieved to be allowed to return to their homes unharmed.

  Philip had wasted no time in marrying Audata and in impregnating her. He slept with her every night and rutted with her several times on each occasion but, as soon as she was certain that she was pregnant, he went back to his old ways and left her alone in her bed. She had found him an experienced lover and she rather regretted it when he stopped sleeping with her. She had thought initially that this was out of respect for her condition but Cleitus soon disabused her of that notion.

  ‘He likes variety, in more ways than one.’ He told her with a grin. ‘He doesn’t seem overly fussy either; anyone who is young and attractive will do, male or female. In fact, I would be surprised if he doesn’t want me in his bed in a year or two. Certainly he seems to regard the school of pages as a good source of bed Companions.’

  Audata was mortified and she treated Philip very coolly after that, not that he seemed to notice, or if he did, to care.

  The birth wasn’t easy. At one point the physicians were convinced that she was going to die but she didn’t. Eventually after a labour that lasted fourteen hours Audata a gave birth to a baby girl who Philip named Cynane.

  ‘I’m disappointed that it wasn’t a boy, Parmenion,’ Philip told him when the king heard he had a child, ‘but the worst news is that the physicians say that something happened to Audata’s insides during the birth and it’s unlikely that she’ll be able to give me any more children.’

  He strode up and down the floor, his nailed sandals striking the intricate mosaic design with every step. Parmenion was surprised at the resilience of the highly coloured pieces of ceramic tile. Despite Philip’s aggressive pacing they still appeared to be as new as when they had first been laid years ago.

  ‘What will you do, basileus?’

  ‘Parmenion, how many more times. There’s only the two of us here; call me by my name for Zeus’ sake.’ He took a deep breath before continuing. ‘A two pronged approach I think. I’ll need to marry again and I need to get hold of Amyntas before someone thinks of him as my heir if I should die. It’s my son who must succeed me, of that I need to be certain.’

  He whirled round. ‘Take the men you need and capture that cretin Agathanor. You can become a noble and the ruler of Gazeros in his place if you succeed. I want him taken alive so that I can inflict a painful death on him for his perfidy. It will serve as a lesson to others.’

  ‘And your nephew, Amyntas?’

  ‘I would prefer it if you could bring him back alive. It doesn’t matter too much if he dies, but I don’t want to get a reputation as a child murderer. He can enter the school of pages in due course and, provided he behaves himself, he might even end up as an officer in my Companion when he’s old enough.’

  Before Parmenion set off with the same small army as he’d taken to fetch Audata, the latter had been established with her own household and given the sole task of bringing up her daughter. Philip’s roving eye settled on Philenna of Larissa in Thessaly next. She was young, pretty and his marriage would allow him to ally Macedon with the northern part of Thessaly, a province that was in turmoil at the moment as the Thessalians fought amongst themselves, and against Thebes at the same time.

  Unfortunately this marriage proved no less fortunate than his first. Philenna got pregnant almost straight away and gave birth to a son at the end of 357. Philip called the boy Arrhidaeus but, as he grew up it was evident that the child wasn’t right in the head. However, the baby’s mental state didn’t emerge until later. The immediate problem was that Philenna had died giving birth and his alliance with Larissa had died as well.

  -o0o-

  Parmenion hadn’t been able to spend a great deal of time with Kharis and now, when he was able to go home to see her and his son, the three year old Philotas, he had to devote some time to Myrrine and her son, Herophon. He was just two and was Philotas’ inseparable playmate, even if they did end up squabbling much of the time. Now he was on the move again. He had hoped to leave Kharis expecting another child this time but, just before his departure she gave him the sad news that her monthly cycle had started again. At forty three he wondered despondently whether he would sire any more children.

  He arrived before Gazaros in the late summer of 357 BC. Apart from the port city of Oisyme on the coast opposite the island of Thasos, Gazaros was the nearest Macedonian city to Thrace and its defences reflected its border location. High stone walls rose up to a height of twenty five feet with a square tower every time the wall changed direction. It wasn’t laid out as a square, but was more of a hexagon with some sides longer than others. There were three gates, one to the west, one to the north-west and one to the south-west. The lack of access from the Thracian side told its own story. There wasn’t even a track leading to the east.

  Parmenion had no intention of wasting Macedonian lives trying to take the city. He hadn’t brought enough men for that. They were purely for show, or so he hoped. He was relying on Philip‘s reputation and fear of the Thracians.

  He camped astride the main road that led to the central set of gates and waited for a delegation to come to him. It wasn’t long before a group of mounted men rode out from the city and stopped a hundred yards from Parmenion’s camp. He rode out with his three commanders and Nicias carrying the royal banner of Macedon, calculating that he shouldn’t need an escort to meet the elders from a loyal Macedonian city. To take an escort might look threatening.

  ‘Gentlemen, I am Parmenion, strategos of the Macedonian army. I am here on the orders of King Philip to arrest the traitor Agathanor. I demand that you hand him over to me so that I can take him back to Pella for trial. I am also to escort Amyntas, the son of Perdiccas, back to Pella and the care of his uncle.’

  The elders looked at each other in consternation. They huddled together out of earshot and it was apparent that they were arguing amongst themselves. Eventually a man with greying hair wearing a long black chiton made of soft wool and embroidered with a white pattern of vine leaves around the edges led the others back to speak to Parmenion.

  ‘Strategos, you have put us in something of a quandary. Agathanor is our lord and we owe him loyalty, as we all owe Philip loyalty as our king. As far as we were aware, he brought Amyntas here for protection after his mother was murdered by one of Philip’s Companions in Pella. We also owe him loyalty as he was our king when he came here. You won’t be surprised to hear that some of our number are suspicious of Philip’s motives and would like to know why he wishes Amyntas to return to Pella.’

  ‘The man who killed the former queen has been tried and executed. Thetima’s murder was nothing to do with King Philip; her death was due to a private quarrel. As for Amyntas, you have my personal assurance that he will be safe and will be brought up as the king’s nephew. Agathanor tried to coerce Philip into sharing power with him using the boy as a bargaining counter. He is a traitor who seeks only personal aggrandizement at the expense of his country.’

  The elder nodded. ‘I know you to be an honorable man, Parmenion, and I accept what you say as true. Not all my fellow elders will do so, however.’

  ‘Then tell them that, if they side with Agathanor against King Philip, they too will be adjudged to be traitors and will suffer his fate.’

  The man sighed and nodded again. Just at that moment a party of riders sped out of the north-eastern gate and cantered away. Parmenion realised that it had to be Agathanor, who hadn’t waited for the city to give him up. The strategos initially presumed that he would make for Thrace, where he would be safe, but he showed no sign of turning in that direction. Ca
ught off-guard Parmenion told Nicias to follow him with those few of his escort who were already mounted and gave orders for the rest of the cavalry to follow their trail as soon as they were ready.

  He turned back to the elder. ‘I need to find out if he’s left Amyntas behind.’

  ‘Come with me, I’ll guide you to his palace. That’s where the boy is likely to be if he hasn’t taken him with him.’

  Parmenion followed the elder through the streets of Gazaros but the houses and people he passed went by in a blur. He prayed to Hermes, his family’s deity, that the boy would be found safe and sound. Otherwise, Philip would get the blame for any harm that befell him. It was therefore with some relief that he saw Amyntas sitting looking bewildered in his bedchamber. He had been crying; not surprising for a five year-old who suddenly found himself alone and abandoned. The strategos swept the boy up into his arms and hugged him, telling him that he was safe now.

  Parmenion sat the boy in front of him on his horse and returned to his camp. Those who were left had packed it up and were ready to march out, so gave the order for them to follow him at as fast a pace as they could manage on foot, which wasn’t likely to be at more than three miles an hour, encumbered as they were with the baggage train. He set off himself with his escort to try and catch Nicias and the cavalry up.

  When he did so the following day it was obvious by then just where Agathanor intended to seek refuge – Amphipolis.

  Chapter Thirteen – The Siege of Amphipolis

  Summer to Autumn 357 BC

  Parmenion hadn’t seen Kionos for two and a half years. In that time his former friend had changed. He was always thin, but now he look gaunt; something that his cuirass and helmet couldn’t hide. His legs were thin and his cheeks were hollow. Parmenion didn’t think that it was just that he was older – he was still in his mid-forties – or that he had lost weight. With a shock he realised that Kionos was ill. The Macedonian strategos sat in his horse beside Philip facing the delegation from Amphipolis.

  He glanced to his left where Nicias was staring at his father. He looked shocked and then a look of compassion crossed his face. However Kionos ignored both his son and his old friend; his attention was concentrated on what Philip was saying to him and to the chief magistrate of Amphipolis.

  ‘You will surrender Agathanor to me so that he can be tried for his crimes and you will enter into a treaty of perpetual alliance with Macedon. Just to ensure that the treaty is indeed perpetual, you will accept a garrison of one thousand Macedonian troops to be maintained at your expense. Finally you will share the profits from the gold and silver mines in around Mount Pangaion with me, half and half. In return I won’t sack your city.’

  ‘What makes you think that you can take Amphipolis? The Athenians have tried time and time again and failed.’ Kionos almost sneered at him in reply, then he started coughing and spat a gob of bright red mucus from his mouth.

  ‘Father!’ Nicias let out an anguished cry but Kionos ignored him.

  ‘Go back to camp, Nicias,’ Parmenion barked at him, ‘or keep quiet.’

  The youth nodded and hung his head in sorrow. He thought morosely that this might be the last time that he saw his father alive.

  Philip was speaking again. ‘Because I have brought siege engines with me. Everyone knows that it is difficult, if not impossible, to take a strongly fortified city with infantry and cavalry, but my machines will batter down your gates and breach your walls. Then my men will flood into Amphipolis to wreak their vengeance on every man, woman and child in the place. Is that what you want?’

  Kionos went to reply but the chief magistrate held up his hand. ‘I will need to report back what you have said to the city elders. We are a democracy and it is for the citizens, not one man, to decide what we should do. We’ll meet here again in two days’ time.’

  ‘You have one day; until noon tomorrow.’

  With that Philip wheeled his horse around and, followed by his senior officers and his escort, he rode back to the besiegers’ camp.

  Nicias was profoundly disturbed after the encounter with his father. He thought that Kionos had been wrong to desert Parmenion and his adopted homeland of Macedon but he accepted that he wanted to serve the city of his birth. He didn’t like it but he accepted it. He never had any doubt in his own mind that his loyalty lay with Macedon, where he had been born. What had really troubled him today was not only his father’s evident ill health, but the fact that not once did Kionos look at him or acknowledge him in any way.

  He started to blame himself for not following his father to Amphipolis. Instead he had chosen Parmenion, the man he had hero-worshipped then and who he still saw very much as his role model. However much he told himself that he had made the right decision, the feeling of guilt remained.

  Parmenion noticed that his aide seemed very pre-occupied after the meeting outside the walls of the city but he assumed that this was because of the haggard appearance of Kionos. He too had been shocked by the appearance of his former friend. Privately he thought that it wouldn’t be long before Kionos took the journey over the River Styx into the Underworld.

  That night Nicias decided that he had to see his father and make his peace with him. The problem was how to get into Amphipolis. Philip had built a large wooden fort outside each of the city’s five gates so he would have to get past one of those and avoid the patrols that guarded the approached to the gates; then he would have to persuade the Amphipolitan sentries to admit him. Even if he succeeded in entering the city, there was no guarantee that his father would see him. He might even have him arrested as a spy. He broke down in despair. Then he had an idea.

  The next day Philip and his advisers rode out to the meeting spot as soon as they saw Kionos and a party of elders emerge from the city. They had only brought a small cavalry escort which Philip regarded as a good sign; he was sure that it meant that they had agreed amongst themselves to surrender the city to him.

  Suddenly, as the gap narrowed to two hundred yards, Nicias spurred his horse forward and calling out ‘father, it’s me, Nicias,’ he galloped towards the Amphipolitan party. One of their escort, quicker thinking than the rest, saw an armed Macedonian charging towards them. He was oblivious to everything except the threat to the men he was escorting and he didn’t hear what Nicias shouted.

  He drew back his arm and threw his spear at the approaching horseman. The rider was too small a target at that distance but the spear struck the horse at the base of the neck and it reared up, spilling its rider, before collapsing and thrashing about as its life blood poured out of the wound. Nicias lay unmoving near the horse, his neck twisted at an unnatural angle.

  ‘No!’ Kionos rode forward to where his son lay and dismounted unsteadily before kneeling to cradle Nicias’ body in his arms. Meanwhile some of Philip’s Companions, who formed his escort, had reacted to Nicias’ death by riding forwards and casting their own spears at the Amphipolitan who had killed him. Some hit the man and others killed or wounded other riders near him.

  Philip angrily yelled at his Companions to return to their places behind him, but the damage was done. The Amphipolitans gathered up the bodies, including Nicias’, assisted Kionos back into the saddle and galloped back to their city. They may have been prepared to surrender before but Nicias’ stupid action had changed all that.

  -o0o-

  The crew loaded yet another spherical rock into the wooden channel of a lithobolos. Two men turned the pulley that drew back the stout cable attached to the torsion bar until a third could raise the hook that held the missile in place. The engineer in charge checked the likely trajectory to make sure that the machine hadn’t moved after the last firing and then gave the order to fire. The hook was pulled down, the torsion bars straightened and the projectile flew along the channel and up into the sky before arcing down to smash into the stout wooden gates of Amphipolis.

  The gates held firm but more dust flew out of the stones in the gateway into which the hinges were secured, ind
icating that they were working loose. Even more worrying, the middle one of the three stout crossbars that held the gates shut had cracked. Kionos came to inspect the damage, coughing up more blood as he did so, and ordered his men to bring more props to brace the gates shut.

  Whilst he waited for this to be done, another rock from the second lithobolos smashed into the gate and two of the existing props were dislodged. One of the iron spikes with an eye in one end that formed part of a hinge had come loose and the top part of the left hand gate had moved back a few inches. Kionos realised that it was only a matter of time – hours rather than days possibly – before the gates were destroyed. Then the Macedonians would flood into the city and massacre the population. He couldn’t let that happen and he went back to report to the city assembly.

  Philip had constructed the three giant lithoboloi from the design sold to him by an engineer from Athens who had developed the idea from an early crossbow called a gastraphetes. The latter had proved unpopular because, although they fired a bolt which would penetrate the stoutest shield, they were too heavy, cumbersome and slow to load to be of much use during mobile warfare. The larger lithobolos was, however, ideal for sieges. Initially they had fired a large spear made of iron but these were expensive and rocks roughly sculpted into a sphere were cheap to make and more effective against walled towns.

  As dusk descended the weary crews stopped firing. By then the gates were only being held up by one hinge and the props behind them. The crews were confident that they could complete the gates’ destruction the next morning.

  However, as the sun rose above the hills to the south of Mount Pangaion another set of gates, as yet untouched, opened and a delegation from the city rode out, this time without an escort. When Parmenion was told he hurriedly finished dressing and went to inform Philip.