Sword of the Spartan Page 5

  It took us an entire year before we found out what had happened to Paullus, the "conqueror" of Macedonia.

  After escaping the fighting body of men, Paullus had discovered he and but three of his guards had escaped the slaughter. They fled to Rome through the northern

  mountains of Greece and had to travel for three months before being able to find a

  ship that sailed for Rome and didn't have a Greek captain. Scared for assassins or Rome-hating seafarers he found it safer to travel with a Roman grain-vessel.

  Dressed in rags and filthy he finally wandered into Rome half a year later, much to the amusement of his political enemies. The Greek debacle had cost him the support of the entire city and he was to be tried and convicted to death by the Senate, had he not spent the entire profits of his plundering of Macedon and much of his family fortune on bribes for the senators. And so he was left behind a bankrupt man, but still in office, much to our amazement. He was still a consul and very much screaming for Greek blood.

  The Romans, of course, wanted blood as well. So the Senate ordered ten legions to be sent to Greece to crush the rebellion. Paullus, having dealt with the rebellious Greeks before, was to lead the expedition. But what the Senators hadn't counted on was that Paullus' greed was higher than his quest for revenge, and thus no less than half of the funds for the legions went to his own pockets. After a year of dragging his feet and requesting more finances from the Senate, not ten but five badly equipped and poorly trained legions touched down on Greek soil.

  And were destroyed within the day…

  Anaxis had spies everywhere and by the time the legions arrived we had had ample time to prepare their arrival. Unfortunately for us Greeks Paullus had not been with the legions and still safely in Rome and had evaded death once again.

  After that Paullus couldn't even find a street-whore in Rome that would talk to him anymore and thus began throwing his money around once more to buy political support.

  The Senators took his bribes and even appointed him Censor for a brief while, but had him poisoned nonetheless once the origin of his bribes became clear.

  And so in the end the Roman Senators did for us in the bedroom what we had failed to do on the battlefield: the killing of Paullus, victor over Macedon.

  By that time Greece had been completely liberated from the Romans. Taxes hadn't been paid in years and support for our army came from all sides. This time cities and kings openly sided with us and sent entire armies and treasury. All of Northern Greece united with us in the Aetolian league and planted Anaxis at the head. He was now in command of hundred thousands of soldiers, an army grand enough to thwart every invasion force Rome could ever send to us. And yet to Anaxis it was not enough…

  My master had made it a point to win over the hearts of every Greek and to unite all of Greece under one counsel, one body of rule. In order to do this he needed to form a grand Greek alliance, which he simply dubbed "The League," as an indication that the other existing leagues were a thing of the past. No more the regionalism and the underling struggles. The League would be comprised of the Achaean league and the Aetolian league at first, only to have the two leagues fade into oblivion in the end.

  Although officially the Achaean league did not want to have anything to do with Anaxis and his plan to overthrow Rome, they did send money and emissaries to our counseling and were thus effective members. Rome tried to bribe the southern states, including Sparta who were part of the Achaean league, but failed. The northern league, the Aetolian, would be the true base of strength for Anaxis. The fierce mountain tribes had provided the most soldiers so far and continued to do so.

  Unlike the other Greeks Anaxis recognized strength in the Macedonians none of the others saw. They had conquered the world with Alexander, he said, and it could be done again under the direction of an able leader. And so Anaxis set on his way with me and a small number of generals towards the south, to convince the cities of the Achaean league one by one to join us in our holy task of uniting all of Greece.

  And convince we did. Wherever we arrived the gates of cities flung open and the local population met us with open arms. The few aristocratic leaders that had dared to oppose us had been overthrown by the people, eager as they were to be liberated from the Roman yoke. Wherever we went we asked the people to stop sending tribute to Rome and to aid us in our quest. For weeks in a row we'd meet with generals, ambassadors and kings to discuss their entering of The League. By the end of the year, we had united all of Greece under our arms, except for Sparta.

  Again Sparta…

  One day, when we were rounding up our stay in Corinth, Anaxis slammed his fist into the arm of his chair and with determination in his eyes he looked at me.

  “Tomorrow we leave for Sparta.”

  And that was that.

  The generals gathered their belongings and ordered the servants to prepare everything for the voyage. Then they retired to get a good night's sleep. I, myself, went to bed as well, but could not sleep at all. It had been two full years since I had been in Sparta and there was a question that haunted me.

  Would she still be there? Had Minerva waited for me?

  Chapter 8

  Our entry into Sparta was—in a single word—spectacular.

  Anaxis appeared not only to have a talent for warfare but also for politics.

  Before we rode into Lakedonia he put on his typical Spartan armor, the red-crested helmet and his distinctive red cloak. I immediately noticed the cloak was filthy and torn and understood the political message behind this.

  Unlike the other Greeks it was the highest virtue amongst Spartans to be sober and not waste money on frivolous luxury. Born and bred as soldiers the Spartans slept in barracks and cared not for fine clothing. By arriving in his old armor and a torn cloak, Anaxis made clear he had not changed at all since his presidency over the League. On the contrary, he was still as poor as ever. He was still a pure Spartan.

  The ten generals that accompanied us on the other hand, had been ordered to wear their finest armor, dress their horse with the finest gear and even use perfume, the most effeminate of all products. The contrast couldn't have been greater and this was just what Anaxis wanted. He assured me it would be the best propaganda he'd ever get for free, and he was right.

  Again it proved to be a master move.

  Much to the disliking of the geriatric council and the two kings, the young Spartans flocked to us and treated us like gods. Within minutes the cry sounded through the city, “Anaxis has come! Hercules' descendant! Leonidas reincarnated! His cloak is torn and filthy like those of Thermopylae!”

  Within moments the road clogged with young Spartans wanting to touch Anaxis, asking a hundred questions all at the same time. The generals and I were completely forgotten and even pressed back by the mass of bodies. The people from Sparta had but eyes for one man: Anaxis.

  If they had had the power, they would have crowned him king there and then. In fact, some made clear that was their wish. Someone in the crowd lifted a crown of leaves and pressed it down firmly onto Anaxis' helmet.

  The people cheered even harder…

  Seeing as there was no getting through, the generals and I stayed behind. The generals sulked, but I merely smiled. It had been a long time since I had seen Anaxis so happy, and I was glad for it. Somewhere deep in my heart I hoped he'd never leave Sparta again, that he wouldn't go back to Corinth. That the madness of this war would end. But it was hopeless. For as long as Rome did not apologize and send compensation for what they did in Macedonia, Anaxis would keep expanding his army.

  And just as I wanted to turn my horse around and head for the generals, to arrange quarters for them, a light voice sounded throughout the crowd.

  “Trimidites! Trimidites!”

  My heart skipped a beat. Minerva…

  A blond goddess worked her way through the crowd and approached me rapidly. I stuck out my arm and a long ivory white hand touched mine and clutched to it. I pulled her onto my horse a
nd kissed her like I'd never kissed before. A few people around us laughed and started telling dirty jokes, but we ignored them. Forgetting the world around us we hugged and felt each other's warmth.

  Anaxis had noticed her as well and looked at me. When our eyes met he seemed to be sterner than ever, until suddenly his mouth formed to a smile.

  Because of the noise I could not hear him, but as his mouth moved I understood what he wanted to say to me.

  “Go, you lucky bastard, and enjoy yourself.”

  I smiled back and rode off with Minerva. An entire week we spent in bed, blissfully unaware of the world outside our bedroom. Breakfast, lunch and dinner were delivered to the room on Anaxis' order. A week we spent in the Elysian Fields, the heaven of the mere mortal.

  But as always, to dreams come an end. And after a week I was visited by Deopus, the general of the Thracian cavalry, who rudely awoke me from my slumber.

  He slammed his fist so hard on the door that it nearly shattered to firewood.

  “Trimidites,” he roared, “Get the hell off that broad and get some clothes on! We leave in an hour!”

  Deopus sounded furious and I stormed out of the room, barely dressed, leaving Minerva in terror under the covers.

  As I opened the door, there stood Deopus, dressed in full armor, sweating like a horse.

  “What is going on?” I stuttered.

  Deopus looked inside the room and saw Minerva lying on the bed.

  “Tell that woman of yours to pack herself clothes for a week's travel. Anaxis ordered me to come fetch the both of your and to bring you to the Agora immediately.”

  Bewildered we packed our things and hurried downstairs. In front of the tavern stood three horses ready, one for each. I helped Minerva on hers and she stared at me incomprehensively.

  I shrugged my shoulders and asked Deopus what was going on for a second time.

  Deopus pointed at the Agora, which was halfway across the city, and gave his horse the command to ride.

  “I'll tell you on the way,” he said and off we rode.

  En route Deopus started telling what had happened.

  “Anaxis has been negotiating with the kings and the elderly for an entire week now. He's pleaded them to join the League, to send troops, to send money. Hell, he'd even take a symbolic gesture of their goodwill, but nothing has he gotten out of the old goats. So he changed strategy. He tried to bribe them, tried to appeal to their sense of pride, and even threatened them. Nothing worked. And when one of the elders started laughing at him, he snapped. He stormed out of the meeting and cried throughout the city he'd be making an important announcement on the Agora within the hour. Then he sent me to get you and your woman and be ready for departure.”

  A feeling of anxiety fell on me. Anaxis had snapped? What I had feared for a long time had come true. The pressure of being leader of an entire nation, having to fend off the Roman legions, keeping the lot together, it was becoming too much.

  And as for his mysterious announcement, I could already guess what it was going to be.

  And I prayed that the gods protected us if it were so…

  …and it was.

  With great difficultly we managed to get to the Agora, where Anaxis rode with his horse to the center, upon the marble stairs that led to a giant bronze statue of king Leonidas, and halted in front of it. He turned the animal around and faced the gathered crowd. All were eager to hear what he had to say, and a silence fell over them.

  Impressive as he was as a mere man, he was a god when in armor.

  And again he wore it to dazzle the crowd and again it worked. Women flocked around him and touched his cape, eager to be in the presence of their god, of Leonidas reborn.

  “Citizens of Sparta!” Anaxis shouted across the Agora. “I arrived here one week ago to convince your council and kings to aid us in the task of keeping the Romans out of Greece. I requested money, soldiers, Spartans!”

  My master put a heavy emphasis on the last word and the crowd roared. But Anaxis had not finished. His following words caused an upset amongst the gathered people.

  “In their ignorance they refused!”

  None spoke. None breathed. None blinked their eyes. All skipped a heartbeat. Anaxis let his gaze penetrate the crowd and intentionally waited a few seconds to let the words sink into their minds. And then he continued. He spoke the words I had dreaded from day one and the words that would eventually sign our doom. All our dooms.

  The end of Greece…

  “Your kings say they side with Rome! Rome is stronger they say, and Greece is nothing! In order to preserve Sparta they have chosen to stay neutral in this conflict. They wish to see Greece destroyed! Sparta could be the leader in a united Greece, strong as it is! Despite our small numbers we still matter, but we must act today if we wish to find our glory of the old days once more! If we want the times of Leonidas to return, we must act like Leonidas! We must act bold and not cower behind our shield walls! We must not hide behind our diplomacy! The Spartan kings of today are the lackeys of Rome, and I despise Sparta for what it has become! Yes, the people are still good, but their leaders are rotten! Lured in by Roman gold they choose to do nothing!”

  The crowd was in an uproar. Within seconds Anaxis had turned the entire city against their leaders. A few men still loyal to the kings and the old aristocracy muttered protests, but were quickly lynched. Their beaten corpses were flung onto the stairs of the royal palace as a message.

  Anaxis realized these feelings were dangerous if left unchecked, and so he continued to speak.

  “Well then, fair citizens of Sparta! If the kings wish nothing to do with the rest of Greece, then I say I want nothing to do with the rest of Sparta! And to those who believe in me, who believe in a Greece without foreign occupation, I ask to follow me!”

  The crowd roared in approval and I could hear several of the younger Spartans cry out, “All the way to Hades if we have to!”

  And again Anaxis smiled…

  “No, my friends,” he said, “not to Hades. Not to death. But to Rome! To Rome!”

  At those words I buried my face into my hands, and I wept like a child.

  Even Deopus stared at Anaxis as if the man had gone insane and muttered curses to just about every god I knew.

  The crowd, paying no attention to us, had been magically worked over by Anaxis.

  They cheered in joy and spread out through the city, killing all of the higher aristocracy they could find and even assaulting the palace. Only one of the two kings managed to get away safely. The other was impaled on the gates of the palace and his ears, nose, eyes and tongue were cut off, the sentence for thieves, liars, looters and murders. To the Spartan people, the man who had led them for the last twenty years had been nothing more than an ordinary criminal.

  His crime had been to safeguard Sparta from Roman legions, and this was his reward for it.

  Three days later Anaxis marched out of Sparta with a full two thirds of its army.

  The remainder he left behind because they were either not to be trusted or to keep an eye on the slave population of Sparta. With his ten thousand men he marched straight to Corinth, where he, upon arrival, proudly announced he had finally unified Greece.

  The League was complete…

  And the final decision he made, by the end of the summer that year, had been to invite the Roman ambassador located in Athens to Corinth. Upon arrival there the man appeared in front of my master, who cut off the man's head, placed it in a jar of alcohol and sent it to Rome.

  To Anaxis it was an official declaration of war.

  To Rome, it was a challenge…

  Chapter 9

  Once this had been attained, Anaxis saw the need for foreign allies. Greece was but one nation amongst many and it would need all the help it could get if we were to keep the Romans at bay.

  Our first alliance was with Thrace, an always welcome source of mercenaries. King Seuthes VIII sent over his crack troops and large amounts of gold from his personal
treasury. Anaxis delivered a token of his gratitude by lifting all tolls on imported products from Thrace.

  The second alliance was of a more important nature: Carthage. Although bankrupt and demilitarized, Carthage's name still carried great importance to the entire West. All knew how Hannibal had nearly brought the mighty Rome to its knees by crossing the Alps, but had lingered too long in southern Italy to finish the job. In the end he was defeated and Carthage severely punished. It was now an impoverished region of northern Africa, but still one with great potential. And so Greece established new trade routes with Carthage, making it a wealthy land once again. This was a great cause of alarm to the Romans, but still Anaxis did not stop. Hispania, Gaul, Numidia, Seleucia, Pontus, even Egypt. All made alliances with Greece and established trade routes. All sent mercenaries and gifts. All were enemies of Rome.

  Within a year Anaxis had turned the entire Mediterranean against the Italian peninsula, and Rome quivered.

  It strengthened its walls, hired more troops, fabricated more weapons than it had ever done and it sent one messenger after another to faraway nations with bribes and pleas for help.

  None answered and the messengers came back to Italy floating in the ocean with their faces up. Anaxis had gone from a single Spartan to Rome's greatest fear—to be surrounded by enemies who were led by a genius.

  To the world it seemed Rome had seen its final hour.

  While the emissaries came pouring into Corinth with news of new alliances and the promise of men and money, Anaxis began setting the Spartans to work. Every soldier that was hired or volunteered had to be trained in the way of the phalanx and the Spartans mastered it like no one else. Their training methods were brutal and men dropped dead by the dozen each day, but still it did not matter. If a Spartan pushed the men too far and drove them to the point of revolt, Anaxis would appear in their midst, promising them double rations and a day of rest if they gave it their best the next day. The men adored him. They touched his clothes and hair for luck, believing him to be the reincarnation of Leonidas or even Hercules. Within the year, Anaxis had acquired a well-oiled war-machine of a size the world had not seen before.