By the Sword

by Christian Kachel

  “Lochagos Croesus, we have been ordered to report to you by Ouragos Drakon for assignment to your lochos,” Stephanos announced in his deepest, most deliberate voice.

  “Do you know why you have been assigned to me?” asked Croesus.

  “No sir,” Stephanos responded.

  “Because the last two worthless recruits he sent didn’t listen and were killed during our pacification of Cappadocia,” Croesus explained. “Where are you from?”

  “Athens, Ilandra, sir,” Stephanos and I shouted at once.

  “Athens, your kind is lazy, weak, and spoiled,” Croesus stated definitively. “Ilandra? Never heard of it. You two will set up your tents and report to our formation when I return from the syntagma staff meeting. I am the lochagos here because I was the most capable soldier in this lochos when my predecessor fell in battle so you will do exactly as I say or I will have you killed. I fight in the first position of our file and therefore rely on the men behind me to cover my ass. Since you two are relatively worthless, you will be in the fourteenth and fifteenth positions when assembled for battle within the syntagma. Prove yourselves and your efforts will be recognized. Show cowardice and I will personally nail you to a tree to rot.” Croesus departed after delivering his initial brief to us and we set about erecting our tents as instructed.

  Stephanos and I laboured quietly on our tents while other soldiers of our lochos ignored us. “No more training, we are real soldiers,” I stated with a grin. “We are soldiers in the Royal Army of the Kings.”

  “We proved ourselves physically, but now we are going to be tested mentally,” Stephanos replied. “This time we are the two lowest skilled of our line and the rest of our mates know it.”

  “They were all in our positions at one point, we must do as we’re told and act with courage and we’ll eventually earn their respect,” I said optimistically.

  Our celebratory banter was interrupted by two soldiers of our new lochos. “You two!” shouted the smaller one. “Why aren’t your tents finished? You have to finish digging this drainage trench.” The soldier threw a pick axe and shovel in our direction and pointed us to the unfinished labour. The larger one kicked me into the dirt as we submissively walked to our latest chore.

  “Lowest of the line,” Stephanos reiterated with a smirk. We dug for over an hour until Croesus returned and called the lochos to formation. Stephanos and I took the two last positions, which were reserved for the lowest ranks.

  “Men, we have two new recruits to replace Tellis and Demeas. They were fools but died nobly- facing the enemy in battle.” Croesus then looked directly at Stephanos and I, “I have no doubt they are scared shitless and will do as they’re told. We’ve been given orders from our syntagma commander. By now you have all heard Antipater’s forces have crossed the Hellespont into Asia Minor. What you haven’t heard is that Satrap Neoptolemus of Armenia has refused the direct order of Lord Regent Perdiccas to join his forces with ours and place himself under the command of General Eumenes. Satrap Neoptolemus has been proclaimed a traitor of the Kings and the army will march east at dawn to commandeer his forces and usurp his satrapy. Upon completion of this task, our reinforced army will march west and defeat Antipater’s forces.”

  Our lochos received this unbelievable news with silent nerve but, internally, all must have been tempering the same storm of apprehension as I was. We were now setting out to face two separate Greek armies while Perdiccas marched on Ptolemy in Egypt. This was not the case of a superior force led by Alexander defeating lesser barbarian races throughout the known world. This was five separate Greek armies, all comprised of the remnants of Alexander’s military, fighting each other for control of the world. And then, of course, there was my pitiful presence. I felt like a boy watching grown men engage in mortal combat except I was somehow expected to contribute to the effort. Countless hours of thrusting a spear into the air had not prepared me for combat versus an experienced Greek army.

  Croesus dismissed the men to make ready for breaking camp in the morning and called Stephanos and I over to him. Pointing at Stephanos he stated, “You will be in the fourteenth position and your lesser mate will be in the fifteenth. If the battle necessitates the two of you to face the enemy head on, we’re in serious trouble. So keep your nerve and listen to my subordinate officers. First Officer Neokles will be at the eighth position and Second Officer Gelon will be in the rear behind you. Gelon has earned his place and he will be on your ass if you fuck up. I will be at the head of our lochos and if the battle gets to the point where you have to start using your sarissa I will have been long dead and trampled. Keep your composure and you will earn the respect of your lochos. Act like a coward and Gelon will slit you from neck to undercarriage. Have a good war boys,” were his departing words to us.

  Chapter 15

  As we began our march east to face the army of Neoptolemus, our formation was led by General Eumenes and his cavalry in the same manner I witnessed Alexander those many years ago. These Cappadocian cavalry units, led by Apollonides, were certainly not the Macedonian Companions; however, General Eumenes utilized extraordinary resources and care to create a premier cavalry force both out of military necessity and an inherent fear of his Macedonian regulars’ loyalties. The Macedonian Foot Companion Phalanx followed, of which my syntagma marched as one of six making up our taxis. Our phalanx was comprised of six such Taxes led by the Phalangiarch, Alcetas- brother of Lord Regent Perdiccas. Our taxis Strategos, Androkles, led on horseback while several ouragos’, including Drakon, patrolled the formation to maintain order. Normally the main phalanx would be preceded by the Silver Shields but they had all marched with Perdiccas south to defeat Ptolemy in Egypt.

  General Eumenes’ Macedonian Foot Companions were not the homogenous fighting force they once were, with each syntagma comprised of men from the same region of Macedon. The Foot Companions were followed by our skirmishers and other mercenaries with the quartermaster, baggage train, and artillery weapons in the rear. For the veterans who had years of services, the entirety of their accumulated wealth and families were stowed in wagons and pack mules in the baggage trains. The baggage train of any army was a prized possession to be safeguarded at all costs. Elite scouting units and spies were sent ahead of our formation to establish the size, location, composition, and morale of Neoptolemus’ forces, as well as determine favourable ground to conduct the battle. I thought of the older staff officer I met in the surgeon’s tent and what part he was now playing forward of our lines.

  Our group of recruits first met with General Eumenes at the western edge of Cappadocia and now our army was marching east to meet Neoptolemus’ forces. Neoptolemus was close to us since he had already departed Armenia days ago in keeping with the ruse that he was obeying Lord Regent Perdiccas’ orders to join his army with ours. Upon our victory over Neoptolemus, we were to appropriate his surviving forces and immediately march west to meet Antipater’s army near the Hellespont, where they had already crossed into Ionia on their way east to face Eumenes. As our army snaked its way east, kicking up dust and meandering over the length of several miles, I noticed many locals had taken an interest in our formation along the road just as I had with my mates as a child. Children were following our army playing with wooden sticks and sometimes venturing to within an arm’s length of us to get a closer look.

  This march was different then my experiences under Agathon and Callisthenes. We did not have to hold our sarissas at the ready and constantly conduct thrusting exercises. Our spears were now disassembled into manageable pieces that were easily carried on our back along with the rest of our armament and bivouac equipment. Agathon and Callisthenes’ tortures had certainly strengthened my fortitude and I found the march to be quite tolerable which allowed me to leave the road and return to the enthused company of my family in Ilandra. My fictional voyage seemed more palpable since I had survived my recruitment phase and was now a member of the Royal Army marching to defend the Kings against overt traitors to the Arg
ead family. My family was of course overjoyed to have me back in their presence, and the lavish baggage train I had returned with was enough to make us wealthy for generations. My mental masturbations carried me through a few hours of the march which brought us to the end of the sixteen-mile day where we set up our bivouacs for the night.

  The Taxes camped in a generally contiguous mass, with each syntagma maintaining orderly bivouacs by lochos. Our lochos made camp with Stephanos and I pitching our tents at the far end of our bivouac. This position was to last for one night only and therefore was not as robust as the initial encampment Agathon and Callisthenes marched our line of recruits into, which boasted full quartermaster and surgeon tents. The majority of our army’s equipment would remain packed until we closed with and defeated Neoptolemus’ army. Our lochos still had not warmed to our presence, so the two of us ate and maintained our equipment by ourselves.

  “Today’s march was tolerable,” I stated. “It seems a lifetime since we were vomiting and collapsing out of Agathon’s march.”

  “You were vomiting,” corrected Stephanos. “Our bodies have been properly formed, now we’ll see if our nerves have hardened to withstand the rigours of battle.”

  “Do you have doubts?” Stephanos proved to have superior confidence, courage and bearing than I, thus a public statement of uncertainty surprised me.

  “A man won’t know how he will act in the presence of danger until he comes face to face with it,” Stephanos responded.

  “You’ve proven to me on many occasions your resolve. You stood up to that local drunk in whatever piss-ass village we were in on behalf of Bacchylides. You dragged me along to extend Labdacus’ life by one more day- something I couldn’t have brought myself to do on my own. Surely your father and brother spoke to you about the rigours of battle and thus you are as prepared as one can be without first-hand experience. My cousin spoke to me about his involvement in Alexander’s eastern campaigns to Bactria, Sogdiana, and India. He echoed your statements about men not truly knowing how they will react when faced with violence for the first time. I think you and I can only look to related examples in our own lives for hints as to our future acts of soldiery and from what I’ve witnessed, you, of all men inexperienced with combat, should have the least to worry about.”

  “You’re a good friend Andrikos,” Stephanos bestowed graciously. “What in your experiences gives you the confidence to speak with such authority on these matters?”

  “There was an incident that forced me to leave my home and ultimately make the decision to join the Royal Army,” I responded in a low and deliberate voice. “Of the people I know best that yet draw breath, I would only confide in you what I am about to divulge.” Stephanos’ face took on a serious expression as he motioned closer to me. “I too have shared in the deliberations of which you now speak in preparation of a violent circumstance. It certainly is not on the level to which we found ourselves on this eve, but it has both bolstered my confidence and forced me from my home.” Stephanos leaned in closer as I related to him in a low voice the totality of my affairs regarding Patrochlus, Nearchus, Alexandros, Theon, Hipolytus, Ganymedes, Pasicrates, and the rest of Ilandra’s cast of characters. Shame prevented me from recounting my actions within the home of Theon or Nearchus’ suicide. When I was finished I commanded Stephanos to make a vow to the Gods never to repeat his knowledge of my past to anyone, to which he agreed while displaying a look of both astonishment towards my story and a new-found respect for me.

  “You carry the burden of your past well, Andrikos; I never would have guessed you capable of such feats at so young an age. You truly are ready to kill men by the hundreds.”

  “I don’t recite this story to boast, but rather to reinforce your confidence by proving someone who thinks you his superior in every meaningful way has the ability to do what is necessary when faced with impending violence, thus you will rise to the occasion as well.”

  Our conversation was interrupted by Croesus who called the lochos to formation to put out instructions for the remainder of the night and tomorrow morning. We were to receive remedial training from Croesus on the verbal, auditory and visual commands of the syntagma during battle for the remainder of the evening and break camp at first light to continue our march. Our evening drills forced our lochos mates to intermittently acknowledge our presence; however, Stephanos and I certainly did not receive any feeling of companionship from them. I surmised most were waiting to see if we survived a battle with honour before they committed any finite sentiments of goodwill.

  The next three days repeated themselves with our marches beginning at day break, lasting approximately fifteen to seventeen miles, making a hastily fortified camp, and casually going over commands and battle scenarios with Croesus and our two lochos junior officers, Gelon and Neokles. On the fourth day of our march the army remained in place at daybreak and the rumour within our lochos was that our scouts had returned and the two armies were now aware of each other’s presence- being close enough to join battle. The prolonged wait we now experienced was torturous. Final preparation of weapons and equipment did little to stem the tide of nervous energy brought on by the hours of languish. Idle hands may be the seeds of deviance but an idle mind before battle is fertile soil for doubt and irresolution. Stephanos and I sat near our lochos mates as they discussed different rumours and scenarios regarding the current situation. Our lochos believed our scouts and phalanx commanders were now deciding where best to field the army that provided best use of the terrain to our advantage. This posturing could take days, as both armies attempted to out-manoeuvre the other to gain favourable position. It was generally agreed by our lochos that we would be called to don our full kit and begin moving shortly.

  Two more hours passed when suddenly a commotion could be heard in the distance, rapidly moving closer and closer like an audible wave until finally the sound of trumpets and screams from officers to arm ourselves and line up in formation washed over us like the sea crashing on the shore. Stephanos and I had carefully laid out our kit and weapons in preparation for this order to ensure speedy compliance. We ran to our tents and donned our equipment at a furious pace. Having completed this, we checked each other to make certain neither of us looked ridiculous due to a missed strap, untied lace, or some other incompetence that would be seen as an egregious offense by our lochos veterans. Our appearance was the only display of aptitude Stephanos and I possessed, since we had yet to prove ourselves in the eyes of our lochos. After double and triple-checking each other, Stephanos and I took our fourteenth and fifteenth positions within our lochos file as part of the Pydna Syntagma.

  Our army moved as one lumbering behemoth as fifteen thousand men and five thousand horse hurriedly marched to an open plain near our encampment. Veterans near me in the syntagma speculated that General Eumenes was choosing this specific location to maximize the advantage he believed he held with our cavalry forces that he painstakingly cultivated over many months in Cappadocia at a great cost of resources. Not knowing anything about battlefield tactics, this hypothesis made sense to Stephanos and myself and thus became our belief as well.

  Our army seeped into the open terrain like dye dripped on a white cloth. The instruction was then given to assemble in battle formation. Each taxis spread out, forming a phalanx six taxis wide occupying the middle of our army. I had a very narrow grasp of my place in the larger formation and followed what everyone was instinctively doing until we came to a stop at our assigned place within the phalanx. I was so confused and overwhelmed by the enormity of organization that was taking place I did not notice the enemy forming opposite us. Because I was so far back in the formation, my ability see what lay before us was limited. It appeared the terrain opposite our army gradually raised, thus providing the enemy some high ground over our forces.

  To the left of the phalanx were mercenary light cavalry and infantry forces from the defeated Cappadocian territories. To our right was General Eumenes and his elite heavy cavalry. Skirmishe
rs and scout cavalry were arrayed in front of our main force armed with javelins, slings, arrows and other light missiles. Within my own syntagma, Stephanos and I stood perfectly still with our eighteen-foot sarissas held straight up at the ready. Being in the rear of the phalanx, I truly had an unbelievable view of the forest of pikes arrayed by our phalanx. After the commotion of manoeuvring subsided, a deafening calm washed over our army so we may hear further instructions. As the enemy settled into their position, word circulated through our lines that Neoptolemus possessed a robust phalanx of veteran Macedonian infantry at the centre of his formation directly opposite our phalanx. This news did not bolster my confidence, as I recalled Croesus’ comment about being in serious trouble if I was required to use my sarissa during the battle. An opponent of hardened Macedonian phalangites might indeed be able to stab and hack their way to me.

  I heard a loud set of horns blow with corresponding flags signalling the skirmishers, followed by a cloud of dust being kicked up. Their purpose was to defeat the enemy skirmishers and engage and harass the opposing army to sow confusion and create openings in the line that could be exploited by heavier units such as the phalanx or cavalry. I was so far back from our skirmishers all that could be ascertained was the dust, the occasional missile in flight, and the distant roar of men engaging in mortal combat. An individual scream of either agony or bloodlust could sporadically be heard over the symphony of violence, which made me content that I was so far back from the fighting. I immediately felt guilty for thinking such a cowardly notion and a large pit opened in my stomach when we were commanded to move forward to exploit gains made by our skirmishers. This command was greeted with enthusiastic cheers by some and blank stares by others. Stephanos looked back at me and gave an encouraging head nod.