Sword of the Spartan Read online

  “The money won't last another month if you spend it like this!” I shouted at Anaxis.

  I suddenly realized I had overstepped the bounds of our friendship and expected to sink to the ground with a knife in my chest but to my amazement Anaxis nodded.

  “I know. I've already calculated it into the schedule; do not worry about the money. We will soon march out and then the money will come flowing to us on its own.” I sank down on my seat and put my head between my hands.

  “A fortune wasted on a mercenary army of merely forty thousand men. And for what? To reconquer a wasteland, an area inhabited by inbreeds and goats.”

  Anaxis planted his hands in his sides and roared out in laughter. “Do you think that is why I am building an army? That that is all there is to it? I thought higher of you, Trimidites. How long have you not known me?”

  And by those words he turned around and left me with new bills to pay.

  Chapter 5

  Reconquering Epirus proved to be far easier than I had initially thought. By the beginning of August we set on our way with an army of forty thousand infantry and ten thousand cavalry, the latter being an unusually high number for a Greek army. Not only were the horses a problem in the sense of their number but also the dung they left behind that made the road slippery and smelly. But their worst effect would be the potential feeding bill, a great financial burden. The traditional warhorse ate but hay and to transport it would be too costly, especially with our depleted budget.

  In a stroke of genius Anaxis solved the feeding problem even before we left Byzantium—he used Thracian horses, supplied by the tribes themselves. These smaller horses, mere ponies in fact, ate fresh grass as well as hay, so they could graze as the army moved on any random pasture.

  Behind the army followed the baggage train and the camp followers. On our march from Thracia to Epirus we picked up all sorts of oddballs that go with an army on the march: whores and pimps, bards and all sorts of performers, religious men from obscure sects, thieves and corpse looters. The diverse group of scavengers were merely dubbed "the camp followers" for they did not live in our camp but a small distance from it. Our soldiers went to their camp every night for entertainment and returned to our camp for their rest and feeding. During the marching, however, contact between the two groups was strictly forbidden.

  When we entered Epirus it was already the beginning of September and the rainy season was approaching rapidly. It was literally the last days of summer, and thus the last days in which an army could march through Greece. In a week from now the soil would be too soaked for any army to march, and Anaxis knew this too well. In fact, he was counting on it.

  Epirus was still being controlled by a Roman legion, six thousand men strong. And although it was merely one legion, it could not be underestimated. Anaxis knew how the Romans fought and how well they were at it, so he had calculated he needed at least ten men for each Roman soldier. But it would not be the mere infantry, however numerous, that would defeat the legion of Epirus. No, it would be our cavalry. The Romans never left home without cavalry, but they never took more than a thousand horses with them. We, on the other hand, had taken ten thousand horses. By sheer numbers we could crush the Romans, but Anaxis disagreed. He knew that every Roman soldier counted for two or more, and if led by an able general they could rise victoriously from any battle, whatever the odds.

  On a sunny day in September our scouts found the trail of the Roman legion. We passed several burnt villages of which the ashes were still warm, and Anaxis knew we'd come to blows with the Romans the next day. When a scout came thundering down a hill on his fast pony Anaxis smiled.

  “They're here, and they know of our presence.”

  And indeed, the scout revealed to us that not only had the Roman scouts revealed our presence to their general, the Roman army was already taking up positions in the following valley. Anaxis ordered his men to pick up their shields and take out their spears before we marched on.

  Several hours later our army entered the valley of Lia, a forgotten place with no inhabitants at all. The terrain was ideal for an all-out battle: grass interrupted with the occasional shrub and no rocks or trees whatsoever. Anaxis merely smiled as he watched the Romans taking positions in the center of the valley. I myself could not see the humor of the present situation but kept my mouth, for I was neither a general nor an officer of any kind. I was the general's personal bodyguard and weapons master, and that roll suited me just fine. The secondary bodyguard to Anaxis was the young Krateros, who was still lacking hair on his chin but carried a sword nonetheless.

  To my amazement Anaxis headed to Deopus, the general in charge of the Thracian cavalry, and started instructing the man with strange new orders. Deopus merely laughed out loud and headed with the entire cavalry back to the baggage train. A few hours later he had left the army altogether and was nowhere to be spotted. To any army but ours this fact would have caused some disturbance, for it seemed our cavalry had abandoned us. Despite the distance, which was still a fair number of feet, the Romans let out loud laughter into our direction and called us cowards and old women. Anaxis merely grunted and so did our men. Little did the Romans know our general had made plans well in advance that were just now set into motion.

  Much to the amazement of the Romans, our infantry simply marched on, right into the jaws of the beast. Two arrows-lengths from the Roman army Anaxis halted our own forces and ordered the men to prepare for incoming assault. The Romans were stupefied.

  The Romans had dug trenches, set up sharp stakes and made obstacles in the valley through which no untrained force would pass in perfect battle-order, confident the battle would soon be over. And now this oddball army of Thracian barbarians and a few surviving Macedonians halted right out of the Roman archers' reach?

  The hours passed and noon changed to afternoon and soon enough afternoon changed to evening and still our army had not moved. The men had sunk to one knee, holding their shields in front of them, ready to jump up in case the Romans launched an attack, which was highly unlikely. The Romans tried luring our men by firing arrows and hurling insults, but none struck home. At the end of the day, the Roman general got fed up with it and appeared on the Roman battle lines himself. It would be the last mistake of his life…

  As soon as the man with his distinct armor and clothes appeared in the open field, thinking he was safe from enemy archers, Anaxis raised his hand and watched a single iron pellet passing by, striking the general right in the eye. The man was dead before his body touched the ground and with some satisfaction our army watched his fellow comrades drag it away.

  The Romans watched our army stand until it became too dark to see any more. But several hours after the night had fallen, ten thousand fires lit up on the mountainside where our camp was. And the Romans must have trembled in their ditches as they saw by the grim light of the campfires that our fifty thousand infantry were still standing on their exact place, two arrows length away. Counting five soldiers per fire in our camp, the Romans quickly drew the conclusion that the Greek army counted fifty thousand standing infantry men and another fifty thousand in reserve. Where these men came from was a puzzle to the Romans, for their spies and scouts had said nothing about these kinds of numbers. And yet their eyes did not deceive them…or did they?

  Whereas the Romans slept poorly that night, convinced they were facing an army vastly outnumbering them, our men slept with some tranquility, as they had all returned to the camp. Anaxis had had the brilliant idea of bringing along straw dummies that were impossible to distinguish from a real man in the dark, especially in large numbers and at great distance. And so our men, except some guards and spies, returned silently to our camp where they had their dinner and had a solid night's sleep. The following morning Anaxis received reports that our slingers had taken out several Roman scouts who had tried to penetrate our line of dummies. So far the secret had been safe…

  But Anaxis had another surprise prepared for the Romans. Before the st
raw dummies had been placed they were drenched into the worst kind of lamp oil we could find. The following morning, right before the sunset, Anaxis had our archers fire a barrage of flaming arrows into the dummies, setting them ablaze. Immediately the Romans understood they had been tricked, but by this time it was already too late. The dirty lamp oil caused fumes and smoke to fill the valley, reducing sight to a mere few feet. The Romans quivered even harder in their foxholes, and their eyes burned as the smoke stabbed into them.

  Our men in the meantime had silently marched forward into the thick smoke, until they reached the same point as the day before. And again they halted. Anaxis was certain the Romans had noticed us moving through the smoke, but in any case there was little they could do. As the minutes passed, Anaxis and the men tensed and grabbed their weapons even tighter. A slight breeze started to set in, spreading the smoke even deeper into the Roman encampment, aiding our cause further.

  Anaxis raised his fist, indicating for the men to follow him, and he crouched closer towards the Roman lines. I was standing to my master's left side as I suddenly heard rapid footsteps from his direction. In a flash, Anaxis jumped forward and raised his sword. A shredding sound and a muffled cry announced the ending of a Roman scout, whose lifeless body fell in front of me. I was aghast that I had not seen the man, who couldn't have been more than a few feet away from me.

  Anaxis signaled the army to stop and raised his flat hand this time. Our archers, who had followed the infantry, raised their bows and fired a single volley.

  A cloud of arrows descended on the Roman encampment, spreading cries of pain and panic throughout the valley.

  Anaxis raised his hand again and another volley followed. Again cries of pain sounded.

  Quickly my master indicated to the army to raise their shields, and in a single fluid move forty thousand men raised their shields and formed a perfect phalanx.

  Anaxis indicated to me to hand me his shield and just as I did I heard whizzing sounds.

  Immediately our entire army raised their shields high and as I was about to find out it was not a moment too soon. The Romans had figured out we were hiding in the smoke and had returned fire. But unlike the Romans, we were prepared.

  My master looked at me and said, “Pull out your trumpet, and sound the attack.”

  I did as ordered. I pulled out my small bronze trumpet and let out a long blast. Our Thracian men roared in unison, a terrible barbaric war cry which caused panic to all save for themselves. Out of experience I knew the Roman camp would be ready within minutes now and so time was of the essence. Our phalanx moved forward, slowly, right up until the Roman camp. There Anaxis ordered the entire army to stop, and wait for his signal.

  The Romans were baffled. Right in front of their pikes, pits, and other traps our men stopped. The Romans raised their bows, firing a volley into our men, which struck fairly few men.

  Our own archers returned fire with fire arrows this time, wreaking havoc in the Roman camp.

  Tents set ablaze within seconds and men dropped dead on the ground with hot steel in their chest.

  And then the true surprise of the day arrived. The ground started trembling like during an earthquake. The Romans were taken completely by surprise and stared at the ground, uncertain of what was going on. Was it a sign from their gods they were about to die? Was it a sign they were to be victorious this day? In reality it was neither, for it wasn't a sign at all.

  Nor was it an earthquake. It was the hooves of ten thousand Thracian ponies storming into the unprotected rear of the Roman encampment.

  In their haste to set up camp the Romans had forgotten to secure their rear. With our entire army camped out right in front of them, all day and night—or so they thought—who needed to guard the rear? Besides, encircling the entire valley would take at least three or four days for any infantry. But not for cavalry…

  And so our ten thousand horses crashed into the Roman compound, slashing and stabbing, kicking and trampling. Immediately the Romans realized they were attacked in the rear and turned around. But Anaxis was still standing in front of them with forty thousand infantry. And again I blew a sharp blast with my horn.

  Again the earth itself trembled as if the Gods on Mount Olympus roared in rage at Gaia itself as forty thousand men smashed into the confused Romans. Our men had caught the Roman legion between two sides, between a hammer and anvil, smashing them to sunders. And as I fought aside my master, deep in the Roman lines, I saw things which have haunted me up until today. In the heat of battle I had not heard them approach, but great was my surprise when the women and children who had survived the sacking of Epirus appeared in the midst of the fighting men.

  Armed with scissors, cooking pans, daggers and swords, which they had taken from the fallen, they too claimed their share of death that day. By the end of the day the raped and humiliated women had their revenge, for not a single Roman was left alive. I saw Romans castrated, torn to shreds by groups of insane women, stomped or even bitten to death by bands of children.

  The men from Epirus were no better, but they finished the Romans off quicker.

  They pinned them down, slit their throats and moved onto the following soldier.

  At the end of the slaughter, I found myself knee-deep in blood and gore. Men were covered in blood, not theirs, and victory-drunk. They kept desecrating the bodies of fallen enemies over and over again, and I shuddered.

  What kind of beast had my master released that day? What had we done?

  Chapter 6

  When the battle was over and the last Roman soldier had died, the army regained its senses and started with its profitable duty of looting the corpses and the compound. Anaxis immediately appeared in the midst of the men and ordered them to strip every last Roman of his clothes, armor, and weapons and put them all on one huge pile. When I asked him about this strange order my master merely smiled and said, “You’ll see. The ghosts of the legion will come to our aid when we march on Paullus.”

  I merely frowned at the cryptic answer and returned to my duty. Whatever spoils the men and women could find on the Romans was theirs and from the looks of it there was plenty to be found. I watched Thracians march by with golden bracelets, bejeweled daggers and swords, fine leather boots and all sorts of prizes. But whereas the mercenaries merely looted, Anaxis and survivors of Epirus were handling a task much grimmer. They were cutting off the heads of the dead and putting them all in bags. Anaxis suddenly came to a stop as he found what he was looking for: the body of the Roman general. His head was cut off as well, but immediately placed in a vessel of salt and water. It was to be dispatched to Paullus with a short message, “We're in Epirus. Come and get us.”

  Anaxis knew well enough Paullus would not come to us for next five months, for the rainy season had begun, making the muddy roads impossible for any army to travel. This meant we had five months to prepare for the arrival of Paullus.

  And prepare we would…

  Anaxis led the army back to the ruins of Epirus, taking the Roman armor and weaponry with us, and sent out one courier after another to all the cities of Greece, Thrace, and Macedon. With each courier went the head of a Roman Centurion as proof of our success. Within weeks the result of this campaign for support started pouring in—soldiers, merchants, bankers, diplomats, military advisors, tribal lords from the fearsome mountains and most of all, money. Thousands and thousands of Talents came pouring into the camp and started taking on such absurd volume we had to build a giant wooden vault, and surrounded it with three hundred guards.

  Although it was my task to count it all, I stopped at thirty thousand Talents, unable to keep check from thereon. At least twice that amount arrived over the course of the fall and winter, all from cities and aristocracy spread throughout Greece, wanting to support us against the Romans. But since no one dared to assume we'd actually manage to succeed in kicking the Romans out, they didn't send soldiers. They sent money. Money was a lot safer. A soldier can desert and tell the Romans his ci
ty had sent him, but money, hard cash, could not. A Talent was a Talent, and with its wide spread over the European and even Asian continent, it would be impossible to see who funded our war efforts. And although the cities did not dare to send troops, many came anyway on their own account, lured by the chance to kill Romans and earn good money doing so.

  By the end of winter we had amassed an army of nearly seventy thousand infantry and thirty thousand cavalry. The men came from every corner of Greece. I could walk out my tent, cross the compound and meet twenty different languages and accents in that short stroll. I met Thracians, Macedonians, Iberians, Athenians, even a few outcast Romans. Lured by the money and the reward of kicking Rome in the shins, these men joined us. To an outsider, it seemed madness. To Anaxis, it seemed like an army.

  Every day Anaxis would train with the men, would teach them to fight as a single body in the tactic which was known as the phalanx—a tight body of men, eight men thick and thirty wide, rolling forward as a perfect war machine, sticking out their spears as the pins of a hedgehog. Every man carried a huge shield in his left hand, not only covering himself in part but also his neighbor. Perfect synchronization and discipline was needed for a phalanx to work, and none mastered it better than the Spartans. Anaxis used his knowledge and training to the advantage of the army.

  There was more than merely training. The city of Epirus needed rebuilding. At least half of our funds were going to that end, and masons from all over Greece came pouring into the ruins, offering their skillful hands. Anaxis ordered them to repair the walls first, for they would be serving us soon enough. The walls, with the united help of the entire army, were repaired in a mere two weeks. Then Anaxis ordered the masons to start on the houses and temples, the roads and the public houses. By the end of the winter, the city of Epirus had been rebuilt. It was a feature the world had never seen before. It gave the men of our army confidence and gave the citizens of Epirus a new home. From all over Macedon the scattered refugees returned to the city and quickly it filled up to some fifteen thousand inhabitants. A staggering number on such short notice, yet it was only a tenth of what the city had once counted. From amongst the refugees Anaxis recruited more soldiers until he reached some six thousand, the equivalent of a Roman legion, and then announced he'd depart with them. Consternation spread throughout the city and the army. Why was their general, the famous Spartan, leaving them? Was he running from the Romans? Was he up to something?