Chapter 118

 

A/N: It’s been a while but I have here another funny word:

 

Sarissophoroi: this was a unit of light cavalry, in the Macedonian army, that used a shorter version of the sarissas of the pezetairoi.

 

CHAPTER 118

 

Macedonian Left Wing,

 

Suddenly the plain of Gaugamela had become host of 3 different battles fought at the same time. On the Macedonian right wing Bessus was trying desperately to reform his cavalry squadrons, a battle that was almost lost because they were far too numerous and not half as discipline as the hetairoi cavalry, the best cavalry of the known world, and the satrap of Bactria was by far a great commander. At the center, the Immortals, Greek mercenaries and the Household cavalry were fighting ferociously against Alexander, his cavalry and the taxeis with their deadly sarissas.

 

But, on the left wing, the Macedonian army was losing the battle, a very different story was told for Parmelio and his men, who saw with horror how 3 thousand enemy horsemen rode directly to their camp, after opening a gap through the exhausted Thessalians and Thracians. They were heavily outnumbered, and Mazaeus, the satrap pf Babylon, at the front of the cavalry on the left wing, had done a splendid job pushing the old General’s men until they could resist no more.

 

What now? –thought Parmelio, panting. He didn’t have enough men to send after them, he hardly had enough men to keep fighting and the situation was worst at each moment. He surveyed his surrounding trying to find a solution, but he only had one of two options: keep fighting or abandon the left wing to pursue the enemy to their camp—But I’m not the man who can take this decision.  

 

- Polydamas! –shouted the old General, and a man covered by dirt and blood hurried to ride at him.

 

- Sir!

 

- Go to the King and tell him what happened here, tell him the enemy is heading to our camp and ask for orders –said Parmelio quickly—GO!

 

- Yes, sir! –Polydamas kicked the sides of his horse and hurried to the center of the battle, looking for the King.

 

The old General turned in the direction where the enemy had gone and cursed. He was angry with himself for letting the enemy pass; it had been his obligation to guard the left wing at all cost, he wasn’t use to failure. But, a voice inside him answered saying that he had done everything in his power to contain the Persians, he couldn’t have done more and now, it was in Alexander’s hands to decide what to do next.

 

Persian Center,

 

Darius saw around himself how several fights were fought at the same time, fragments of small duels flashing in front of his dark eyes: one of his Immortals falling with a terrible wound that had almost cut his skull in two, one of his foot soldiers bent to the front with blood flowing from his abdomen, sliding through his thighs and legs, and one hetairoi crushing a Greek mercenary under his horse.

 

He blinked, slowly, as if he were dreaming, he could see now the sarissas, in their peculiar formation that resembled a pin cushion, so close, very close to him. The Great King felt lost, what was happening? He was winning the battle, wasn’t he? How was that now he was surrounded, trapped like an animal? 

 

His men were giving ground and their lifeless bodies started to accumulate around him filling his heart with fear. The place wasn’t a battlefield anymore; it was a graveyard. How was that things had come to this? He still couldn’t comprehend that, just a few minutes ago, he had been so close to smash the Macedonian army and now he was in a very real danger or being captured, or worst, be killed. 

 

A few paces from the Great King, Alexander killed another Immortal while Boukephalous crashed a man under his hooves; he was getting closer, he was so close to finally fulfill his destiny, to make his dreams true, just a few more paces, he had to capture Darius and all would be over. All his years of hardships and suffering, all those years dreaming with great battles and everlasting glory, all that time, since he was a boy receiving Persian envoys at the royal palace at Pella, to this day passed before his eyes in a moment.

 

All of this was coming to and end…now.

 

Free

Wanna be free

Gonna be free

Feels so free

Gotta know free

Please

Don't wake me from the dream

It's really everything it seemed

I'm so free

Life is just a dream you know

That's never ending

(Yoko Kano, Blue)

 

The King’s attention was focus on Darius in front of him, his surroundings had disappeared, all that matter was the Great King and the Great King only; and he never saw a Greek mercenary coming from behind, ready to pierce him with his spear, a silent executioner coming from a field of blood.

 

The mercenary smiled showing his teeth, looking like a savage beast; he would kill the invader and end with the war, end with that madness. The Macedonian King was dangerous and nobody had seen it, he was going to destroy the world. He was ready to strike, Alexander had no idea that he was in mortal danger, it would be a clean thrust. The mercenary raised his arms and, in the same moment he was ready to thrust, the felt a terrible pain, everything stop in that moment for him, he took his hand to the back of his neck and saw the blood on his hand without understanding what had happened.

 

The King turned then and saw the mortally wounded mercenary falling to the ground and reveling the man standing behind him.

 

- I thought you were big enough to need a babysitter –said Hephaistion, shouting to be heard over the noise.

 

Alexander smiled, a myriad of emotions on his chest and for a moment he couldn’t speak. He couldn’t explain how happy was to see that his beloved was all right.

 

- Glad to see you are still with us, General –he managed to say at last.

 

- I should be the one surprised, my lord –the King laughed and returned his attention to Darius. This time he was determined to capture him alive, he needed him alive if he wanted to claim the Persian throne.

 

I won’t let him escape again –he thought, forcing his advance through the men fighting desperately to protect the Great King.

 

Even Darius knew everything was lost now, how had that happened? He truly didn’t know, but he couldn’t stay for much longer questioning the Gods and their caprices, he shouted to his rider and the man immediately pulled the reins of the chariot.

 

Oh no, you won’t –thought Alexander, watching what was happening—You are not running away from me again.

 

- SIRE! –Polydamas arrived—SIRE!!! General Parmelio sent me!

 

The King turned to see the man, angry and irritated after being interrupted, he had no time for this.

 

- Speak, quickly –Darius was going to escape and he couldn’t allow that. 

 

- Sire, the Persians opened a gap through our formation and a strong group is heading to our camp –Ptolemy, Leonnatos, Kleitos and Hephaistion heard the man and the 4 of them turned to see the King with eyes wide opened—The General is asking for your instructions, sire.

 

- “Go, tell Parmelio that if we win this battle we shall not only recover our own baggage but also capture the enemy’s. So there is no reason for him to weaken the line in any way. Rather his actions should do credit to me and my father, Philip; let him ignore the loss of the baggage and fight courageously”(1) –said the King and Hephaistion saw him as if he didn’t knew him.

 

Polydamas nodded and rode back to the old General.

 

- You can’t do that! –said Hephaistion approaching Alexander, and for the first time in his life, questioning his orders in public. That took the King aback—We have to go back to the camp.

 

- The camp is not important –said the King with strong voice, turning to see the Great King struggling to get out of there. Time was against him—We have more important things to do, we have to capture Darius before he escapes.

 

He kick Boukephalos’ flanks but his beloved stopped him, taking the reins with force.

 

- And what about my son?! –asked the General angry as he had been in very few times of his life, and realization struck Alexander—If you want to capture Darius, go ahead but I’m going back to the camp even if I have to fight every single Persian by myself.

 

Ptolemy, Kleitos and Leonnatos had heard the whole conversation and the three of them agreed with Hephaistion. Leonnatos couldn’t even imagine what would happen to his wife and kids, Kleitos wanted to go back with Berenike and Ptolemy was worried for Thais. 

 

The King fell silent for a moment. He had completely forgotten about Achilles, he was so eager to catch Darius that he had forgotten his son. He cursed watching the Great King running away, followed by his Kinsmen, his brother, and what was left of the Household cavalry. After all, like Darius wished, the ancient ruins of Nineveh did witness the fall of a great empire, the once proud Assyrian city watched the last King of the Achaemenid dynasty vanishing at the distance.

 

There was no choice.

 

- Lets go back to the camp! –shouted Alexander and the first ones to obey were Hephaistion, Ptolemy, Kleitos and Leonnatos.

 

Macedonian Camp:

 

Xsayarsa saw with big round eyes how the Cadusians rode to where they were, their blades stained with fresh blood shining under the sun, and the nostrils of their horses opened while the beasts charged against them in the middle of a frenzy.

 

The 2 members of the Agema, left behind to protect the Macedonian Prince, placed themselves in front of Achilles, their spears ready to impale the Cadusians. One of the guards managed to wound a horse, but the rider jumped unharmed and the man next to him cut the Macedonian’s head. Xsayarsa let escape a hysterically high-pitched scream, watching the body fell on his knees, and the severed neck covering itself in a brief fountain of blood as the head fell just a few steps away, as if watching his own corpse.

 

The remaining guard was no match for the Cadusians, he killed one of them, but the others finished him with their spears, piercing him without mercy. Xsayarsa embraced Achilles, that was the only thing he could think of, he had never witness something like this before, not even when the Macedonians invaded the Persian camp after the battle of Issus; he was trembling from head to toe, feeling dizzy, his heart beating fast and for a moment he thought he was going to faint.

 

The eunuch waited very still watching the enemy dismounting, and Achilles embraced Xsayarsa to calm down the Persian. He had seen dead bodies before and thanks to Kleitos he wasn’t as scared as any boy of his age should be, he had seen worst things than Xsayarsa, and after that horrible night when he witnessed how Darius’ men whipped his father, he had swore to be as brave as Hephaistion.

 

One man walked to them, the one who appeared to be the officer, and other one went to see his wounded comrade, shaking his head when he confirmed he was dead, and the rest ran inside the magnificent tent that once had been in possession of Darius.

 

The eunuch was tensed, he thought many things that could happen in that moment, each one worst than the last, and, for his utterly dismay, he saw how the Cadusians were joined by more of his companions. They couldn’t run away, the place was full with enemies and they would be killed before they could take 2 steps.

 

Ahura Mazha, have mercy –prayed the eunuch.

 

- You are Persian –said the man, standing in front of the trio. He looked like a nightmare, covered in sweat, dirt, blood and gore and his naked sword still in his hand. The eunuch nodded, he didn’t trust his voice, he was sure that if he spoke, he would start crying—You have nothing to fear –the man sheathed his sword—We came to rescue all the Persian prisoners from the barbarian King.

 

Achilles frowned. He was scared but he didn’t like how this man talked about his uncle.

 

- I’m Xsayarsa –the eunuch made an effort to speak, still trembling— And this young man –he pointed at Cyrus—Is his royal highness, Prince Cyrus Ochus.

 

The man opened his eyes, taken by surprised by this news and bowed his head, respectfully, in front of the young Prince. Cyrus was the living image of Darius, and the man didn’t doubt for a second that he was his son indeed.

 

- Your highness, I’m Datamas –he introduced himself— Rejoice Prince, soon you will be with the Great King, your father –said the man but Cyrus said nothing, he was still very confused and scared, and didn’t understand quite well what was happening—Go and pack your things, Xsayarsa, you are going home. 

 

- Yes, sir –the eunuch bowed and turned, thanking Ahura Mazda for this change in his luck. He took Achilles’ hand and started to walk.

 

- Wait! –said Datamas, for the first time noticing the presence of the little Macedonian who had not ceased to watch him directly since he started talking—Whose this boy?

 

Xsayarsa started to sweat cold.

 

- He is my servant –lied the eunuch, thinking quickly; but the man wasn’t convinced.

 

- He doesn’t have the eyes of a servant –said the Cadusian, holding his gaze and, contrary to what other children would have done, the Macedonian didn’t withdrew his face—And he is very beautiful.

 

- He is young, sir, and I like beautiful boys –said Xsayarsa, wishing with all his forces that Achilles would stop watching Datamas like that, as if he were challenging him.

 

One of his men called Datamas and the eunuch took that opportunity to start walking again, dragging Achilles with him when the Persian servants, who were at the King’s tent, came out, all of them smiling, extremely happy, carrying their belonging, knowing that they would be soon at their homes with their families. 

 

- Keep walking –Xsayarsa whispered to Achilles and Cyrus—Don’t look back and keep walking.

 

One of the servants pointed at Achilles while saying something to one of the Cadusians, and Datamas called the eunuch again.

 

- Xsayarsa! What’s that boy’s name? –the Cadusian walked to them and the eunuch felt his heart beating savagely. He was sure he was going to faint, oh! He was too old for these things.

 

- Philip –lied the eunuch, remembering that the most common Macedonian names were Philip or Alexander.

 

- Really? –Datamas held the Macedonian Prince gaze again—Now I know where I have seen eyes like yours, you are the barbarian King’s son.

 

This is bad –thought the eunuch, watching the same Persian servant talking really quickly while pointing at them—Snake! –Xsayarsa cursed the servant who had told the Cadusians the Prince’s true identity. 

 

- Give me the boy –the Cadusian demanded, extending his arm, his voice no longer polite.

 

- No! –exclaimed Cyrus, he hadn’t been this scared in his whole life, but he wasn’t going to let these men hurt his best friend—He is my friend.

 

- I’m sorry your highness but he is too valuable to let him go –Datamas was going to take Achilles by the arm when he felt a cold blade in his back. He opened his eyes in astonishment, and when he opened his mouth instead of words only blood flowed. 

 

The Persian servants ran scared and the rest of the Cadusians hurried to attack the newcomer, but all of them fell, cut to pieces before the 2 swords of grandfather Demetrios.

 

- Grandpa?! –exclaimed Achilles with eyes wide opened.

 

- What are you still doing here? –asked grandfather Demetrios, approaching them—You, Yarsa, take the boy out of here, you can find Eni at the north of the camp; and you –he saw Cyrus—Go back to your own tent and stay with your family, you’ll be safe there. 

 

- Grandpa, what happened to dad and daddy? –asked Achilles and grandfather Demetrios shook his head.

 

- I don’t know.

 

- Sir, what are you going to do? –asked Xsayarsa, still trembling.

 

- I’m going right after you, to clear the way –to the eunuch astonishment Demetrios looked excited, it had been so long since the last time he had taken part in a good fight that he felt at least 20 years younger—What are you waiting? GO!

 

Xsayarsa took Achilles by the hand and ran, Cyrus obeyed and went back to his tent.

 

XXX

 

Berenike, and her small group, had run until they found a half destroyed wagon at the north of the camp, and had hidden under it like grandfather Demetrios told them to. The camp was a complete chaos, people running and screaming everywhere. The enemy had set free the many Persian prisoners and these had hurried to look for arms and joined the fight, slaughtering the few Macedonian soldiers at the camp. Thais, Sophonisba, Netikerty and Sophia started to cry when they saw how 2 Persians took one of the Macedonians, guarding the prisoners, dragged him and dismembering him, tying him to a couple of horses.

 

His screams chilled their blood and Sophia embraced her mother, hiding her face against her. 

 

- Oh dear Zeus! –sobbed Thais, trying her best to stay calm and falling miserably, she was going to suffer a panic attack and the air was no longer reaching her lungs—What are we going to do?

 

- What grandpa said –Berenike whispered, her bow ready in her hands in case someone approach them—Wait for an opportunity to escape. 

 

- Escape where, Eni?! –asked the hetaira, her voice starting to sound hysterical—We are in the middle of enemy territory, where can we possible run? –she cried again.

 

- We’ll think of something…but now, we have to concentrate in how to get out of here –said her friend, keeping her calm with great efforts, she didn’t want to scare her children.

 

- Look ma’am –whispered Sophonisba, pointing at the front.

 

Running among that orgy of blood and destruction were Vashti and her twin sister Ayesha, hand in hand and looking very paled and confused, not knowing what to do.

 

- Should we call them? –asked Netikerty.

 

- What for? –said Berenike, sighing—I beat they are extremely happy, after all now they can go back to their home and get away from Nick. And let me tell you something, I can hardly blame them, knowing my brother they must be eager to leave...

 

A shrill high-pitched scream interrupted her words and the small group of women and children turned at the same time stretching their necks, looking for the source of that noise.

 

- Mom, there! Is Yarsa –exclaimed Amyntas.

 

- And Aki –said Thais.

 

They saw with horror how the eunuch and the boy were running in their direction, followed by 3 men on foot and 2 riders. Achilles was much faster than Xsayarsa, but he couldn’t beat 2 horses, and the enemy was approaching them with terrifying expressions on their faces.

 

- They are not going to make it –whispered Sophonisba, trembling from head to toe.

 

- On my father’s tomb I swear they will –said Berenike taking her bow.

 

She stood up and aimed, closing one eye and taking a deep breath. First, she shot 2 arrows at the same time in the riders’ direction, and both hit their targets. The riders let out a cry and fell from their mounts, rolling on the ground.

 

Three more –thought Berenike, taking another arrow.

 

She shot 3 arrows quickly and before the men could fully understand what had happened, they were on the ground, bleeding profoundly from mortal wounds. Xsayarsa and Achilles were too busy running to see who had shot, and Thais left their hiding place to call them, waving her arms. 

 

- Aki! Yarsa! –both saw her and hurried to follow the hetaira.

 

Both dropped on the ground exhausted, as soon as they were safely under the half destroyed wagon.

 

- Mom, that was awesome! –exclaimed Amyntas, truly impressed by his mother’s aim.

 

- Thank you, honey –Berenike took deep breaths to calm the savage beating of her heart and sat down again, sure that her legs would no longer sustain her.

 

- Are you all right? –asked Thais and Xsayarsa nodded.

 

- I thought… we were going to die –the eunuch’s voice trembled, he was about to cry and Sophonisba patted his back fondly.

 

- Aki, did you saw grandpa? –asked Berenike, checking her nephew for wounds.

 

- Yes…—the boy was panting and had to take deep breaths before speaking again— He was running after us… He said… he was going to cover us –he explained.

 

Berenike turned again looking for her grandfather but she couldn’t find him.

 

- How far was he?

 

- I don’t know –Achilles shook his head—Aunt, what’s happening?

 

- I don’t know, sweetheart, I don’t… —Berenike screamed when she saw a man standing over the wagon.

 

The man smiled and shouted something calling for his companions. Thais reacted first, she took the small dagger, that Ptolemy had giving her, and stabbed the man in one thigh, successfully hitting his femoral artery.  

 

- Run! –shouted Berenike, watching how a group of Scythians rushed in their direction.

 

XXX

 

Persian Right Wing,

 

Mazaeus saw pleased how his men were crushing the Macedonians; he had achieved a great victory and knew he would be handsomely rewarded. He let himself smiled until he saw his son Brochubelus riding at him, extremely paled.

 

- Father, the Great King is leaving –said his son with urgency in his voice.

 

At first, Mazaeus didn’t understand what was Brochubelus saying. Darius was leaving? Why? They were winning. But as soon as he turned to see what was happening at the center of the battlefield, he felt a knot in the stomach. The Macedonians had massacred the Immortals and the chariot of the Great King could be seen at the distance, raising big clouds of dust behind him.

 

It took Mazaeus a while to fully understand that, even if he had won the fight on the left wing, they had lost the battle.

 

No –thought the satrap of Babylon angry—Darius lost the battle.

 

- Sound the order to retreat –said Mazaeus to his son—There is no point in staying here.

 

After all if the Great King didn’t care about his Empire, why would Mazaeus die for him?

 

- What about the men at the enemy camp?

 

- They are Scythians and Cadusians, leave them where they are, now the Macedonians are their problem –answered the satrap with detachment.

 

- What are we going to do now, father? –asked Brochubelus with apprehension.

 

The world as the Persians knew it was coming to an end, and his son felt as if the apocalypses had fallen upon them. There was nothing certain anymore.

 

- What else? We go back to Babylon and wait for the invader, let the Gods have mercy on us –and the satrap kicked the sides of his horse and left.

 

Macedonian Left Wing,

 

When Parmelio heard the Persian trumpets calling to retreat, he though he was dreaming, it was the most precious sound he had heard in his life. They had been almost killed to the last man, and now, the enemy was leaving. It was a miracle.

 

- Philip! –the old General called the Thessalian hipparch, so happy that he appeared to glow— Philip “do you see how after making a furious attack on us a moment ago those men are retreating in sudden panic? It must be that our King’s good fortune has brought victory for us too. The battlefield is completely covered with Persian dead”(2)

 

The Thessalian laughed.

 

- I’m seeing it, General –answered Philip, sharing his good mood.

 

Then, Parmelio advanced a couple of paces and shouted to all his men.

 

- “What are you waiting for? Aren’t you a match even for soldiers in flight?”(3) – he didn’t need to repeat himself and the men, emboldened to see the enemy flee went after them with renewed energy. 

 

XXX

 

Macedonian Camp,

 

The first officer who arrived at the Macedonian camp was Menidas, the mercenary hipparch who was fighting at the left wing under the orders of Parmelio, but his squadron was unable to enter the camp as the Scythians kept pushing them, killing without pause and shouting their blood chilling war cries. Aretes, the Macedonian commander in charge of the sarissophoroi, the light cavalry, was sent to help Menidas, and it wasn’t until both commander joined forces that they could make a difference. 

 

- That man! –shouted Menidas, bleeding from numerous wounds, pointing with his sword a figure shouting orders not far from them—That’s their leader!

 

Aretes turned and saw a big man mounted on the biggest horse he had ever seen. He nodded.

 

- Leave him to me.

 

As Aretes rushed to attack the big Scythian leader, he heard the hooves of hundreds of horses. It was the King, coming back to defend the camp, and Menidas laughed almost hysterically, in that moment Alexander was his favorite person. 

 

The King order his men to charge in wedge formation, and the clash between them and the Scythians was brutal; they proved to be worst than Bessus’ men, attacking like demons and killing more Macedonians there, at the camp gates, than Darius had managed to kill on the battlefield. Hephaistion, now with the rest of the Ile Basilike, attacked the Scythians with a savagery strange in him, but he was worried and scared for Achilles, his powerful imagination, showing him all kind of terrible torments that these men could do to the almost 6 years old boy, was enough to transform him into a heartless beast.

 

The General was desperate to enter the camp, but the Scythians put a great resistance and he was starting to get impatience. A big mistake. His grandfather had taught him to always fight with a cold head, to cast aside his emotions, but now, knowing that his son was at the enemy’s mercy, he couldn’t keep a cold head and that made him careless. He cut he wrist of one of his opponents and never saw the man with a bow ready to shoot him, he just felt a terrible pain on his left arm, and when he turned to look, he found 2 arrows’ heads protruding from his flesh, just a little above his elbow.     

 

He clenched his jaw, the pain was terrible, but he couldn’t stop now. Hephaistion killed a man who tried to take advantage of his wound, and took his hand to the arrows. He had to take them out. He broke their tail and pulled one first from the head; the pain was so terrible that it ran through his arm sending shivers to all his body, but he had to endure it.

 

The wood against his muscles, as he pulled the arrow, created a horrible sensation and more than once he thought in the possibility of leaving the arrows there and look for the doctor. But then, he remembered Achilles’ face and pulled until the first arrow was out. He groaned in pain and saw his fingers covered in blood.

 

Just one more –thought the General.

 

Hephaistion was sweating cold, but he took out the second arrow. He torn a piece of fabric from his cloak and covered his wound with his teeth’s help. It was a serious wound, not a mortal one, but needed to be treated soon.

 

As soon as I have time –thought the General feeling dizzy.

 

XXX

 

(1), (2) and (3)  Diodorus Siculus. Library of History, Book 17: Chapters 55 to 61.