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A Greek Carthaginian's tale

Serie I

Chapter I
Prologue

The hot sun of summer gazed on the magnificent city of Syracuse. I, Antigon, am a Greek of birth, and of blood. My ancestors fought and died at Marathon, Salamis, Thermopylae, and Millet. Enough was said about me. The purpose of this "personal journal" remains a mystery for me. I still wonder why I'm writing my thoughts on a sheet of papyrus.

I am at the top of a defence tower, looking at the sea. The old and bright blue sea. The friendly sea. For me, this place is the paradise. No war, and no famine. I will now tell you my story.

"The city of Syracuse was a strongly protected city. The Romans, massed at Messana, were calm and quiet. I still remembered the joy in the city when a permanent alliance was made between Carthage and our city. A man called "Hannibal Barca" found something special about our kind. The Carthaginian army was entering by the iron gates of our city. They were acclaimed by everyone! This tall and charismatic Carthaginian general was the first who entered the city. Peace was a good thing."

Who could have imagined that this mighty general had no bodyguards at all? I think the reason is that he and his men were commonly bound together. He lived like his men. He ate like his men. He slept and loved like his men.

"This tall man was a source of admiration for us all. He had a special aura. He released something in the air that made you fall into deep admiration for his people and himself. I was only a peasant then. I was on the gate guard tower, waving at our Carthaginian friends. I hated war. I hated hatred and death. I hated violence. I hated that "malediction" that people called an "art".

I then returned to the beach with my wife. We were exchanging deep sweet words in our ears on the hot sand. Sand was a part of myself. I liked sand. Sand liked me because it warmed me as if I was in my bed with my mother singing me lullabies. Ah, tender childhood! I had a great pleasure making sand castles. I liked modeling things with my hands. Building things. I liked to take care of the ones I loved and of the ones that loved me. I loved life, and life loved me even more."

By a sunny day, I was happily walking in the streets, looking at the rich market Syracuse had. Everything was sold here: Precious stones, exotic fish and food, shining weapons, soft and beautiful clothes, and many more.

"I saw a great ship accosting to the port. A huge ship. Carthaginians had accosted. Some armed men got on the ground and began to ask people if they were interested in fighting for the Carthaginian army. Good salary, good leaders, and, most of all, glory. For me, glory meant barely nothing. Glory was a "war purpose". And I hated war. Suddenly, the tall general I saw in the streets got out of the ship. He looked at us, smiling with his white teeth. He approached near me and said: I'd like you to fight for Carthage's army. Not FOR me, but WITH me."

That answer made me do a choice I'd never thing I'd ever do in my life.

Chapter II
My new life

I wasn't sure if I had made the good choice. The other smileless Carthaginians were patrolling near the great triremes.

"I was not sure at all. A life of adventures was not my idea of a pleasant one. I walked slowly, reflecting, on the stoned streets of Syracuse' port. I then decided to go to the bazaar before I embark. The diverted music that was played here relaxed me. Then, I saw a massive lot of people regrouped to something or someone. I made my way in, stabbing, pushing and apologizing. I then saw the Carthaginian general, conversing with a cloth trader. I decided to go see what was going on...

The general seemed to have trouble dealing with this merchant. Suddenly, the general turned and looked at me. He seemed to find something strange about me.

-"May I help you, great lord?, I said.
-Well, I'm having trouble with your trading system. I'd like to get that marine blue cloth, but I don't know what to exchange for it, and the merchant doesn't accept any money..."

I then convinced the general to give his dagger to the merchant. The deal was made, everyone was happy. I turned back, but the general didn't seem to have finished with me. He ordered me to face him. He thanked me gratefully. I was happy.

-"My name is Hannibal, Hannibal Barca. What is yours?
-I answered "Antigon".
-Well, Antigon, I hope to see you tomorrow before the ship sets sailed. Good night."

I left the bazaar, happy. I felt something strange... An unknown feeling. Later on, I heard this feeling was spelled p-r-o-u-d-n-e-s-s."

The next, day, I woke up after a sleepless night. I rarely had difficulties sleeping, but this night seemed to be different. Everything seemed to be different. I slowly ate my breakfast, washed, and dressed up. I walked monotonely to the port. Then, I saw the great trireme. I walked near, and a wooden table, accompanied by a severe man with some sheets was waiting for me. I signed my "engagement" for II years. After, I was free to go. And then, the ship left the marvellous city of Syracuse. My heart was telling me that I would come back here, one day, but everything would change. As my life would.

The ship was pushed by Eol and rams to a city I have never tried to imagine or to know... called "Carthage".

Chapter III
War? An art?


"I was on the great trireme. I have brought only a little bag with money, and my own little things. My house will be occupied by my brother Atropes.

I looked at the clouds in the blue sky. I talked with some Carthaginians. They told me the story of their kind. I learned a lot during this sail to Carthage. I learned they believed in a god called Baal. I also learned that their people were Phoenicians before. I learned about their political system, their traditions, their way of living, etc. The Carthaginians were proud people. Proud of being the ones they are. A lonely man was gazing at the sea. I decided to go see him.

-"Nice day for sailing, eh?
-A quite nice one, indeed.
-When will we arrive to Carthage?
-Well, we sailed since II weeks. We should be arrived tomorrow morning.
-What's your name?
-I am Hannit, son of Bareth. He's a respected member of the Proeth family, as I am. He's a renowned merchant. Haven't you heard about "Proeth's swords?"
-Not really...
-Well, these swords are as deadly as Hannibal's ones, for the ones who know how to use them. A very few persons knew how to wield them. Our lord Hannibal does, but he's a Barca family member."

Our discussion finished there. The next morning, we saw the shores of "Carthage". I have NEVER seen so high walls. I have NEVER seen so high towers. Everything I saw was beyond my imagination. The ship accosted.

My first step on the Carthaginian land was marvellous. There was sand, like at Syracuse. Hot, warm sand. Soft and bright sand. A different sand from Syracuse, anyway. The color was a bit more dark, more brown. Bronze sand. Yes, bronze sand.

I entered through the titanic gate, admiring the architecture. I walked with the other Greeks that came along with me in the streets. I never saw such a variety in a bazaar. The Carthaginians had barely everything imaginable. This placed pleased me. Bronze sand and a great bazaar.

We were following a Carthaginian detachment. They were asked to lead us to the barracks. I was still looking, and observing. Nice sweet big houses. I enjoyed walking on the Carthaginian paved streets. The feeling you could have was far more different.

A few minutes later, we reached the barrack. Then, I saw Hannit, guarding the door. He winked at me. I answered his subtle salute at well. My training as a Carthaginian soldier was about to begin.

Chapter IV

"Our trainer stood in front of us. He was fairly tall, and had a squared face. He looked grimly at us with a strange smile. He observed us during minutes and minutes. He seemed to take the fact the load of poor peasants like us could become the best soldiers of Carthage. These were strange times.

-"So... You are these Greeks we heard of. Carthage hopes that your people are worthy warriors. If that's not the case, I'm here to break you and to rebuild you after. Any "questions" before the breaking begins?"

The people around me looked at each other, mumbeling. They looked quite disappointed.

-"For those who think this training will be pleasant may leave this barrack or go fight a blood-thirsty elite roman right now! We got some in our arena! Now that things are clear, you will learn to call me "sir" or "captain". UNDERSTOOD?"

-"SIR YES SIR!" we answered togheter.

-"We will now verify if the Greek blood is still as mighty as it was at Marathon and Thermopylae."

The captain asked one of his soldiers to distribute short swords (these didn't seem to be very sharp) and round shields to us. We were also given a white set of the Carthaginian warfare "uniform". Some were different, but not a lot. I liked how I looked like. The helmet I was given later made me look a bit ridiculous, but I liked my new appearance.

-"STAND IN TWO LINES!"

We formed a disordered double-line. We were led to a dark room. The captain showed us how to swing a sword.

-"Swordmanship isn't a gift of Baal given to everybody. It is an art. You must think like your sword: sharply. The first lesson you will learn today is how to fight with a sword. I think most of you guys understood that the round shield was a protection against arrows and sword blasts. Unfortunately for you, a round shield doesn't save you from a long spear. But, that's another story. Train yourselves with your swords in teams of II. I will watch of what you are able from now."

My partner was a tall Greek called "Phillipos" and had a great musculature. He was a skilled swordman, as I saw. His swings were powerful and precise. I wasn't really good with my sword. My thoughts weren't sharp. What the hell did this sentence mean for Zeus' sake??? "Think like your sword: sharply." What a meaningless bunch of words! I was quite angry when my partner hit me on the arm. My bloody arm hurt really much. But, I didn't complain. I never complained and it wasn't today that I would start to.

-"Soldier Antigon! Come here! Bring your stupid head right here!"

I came near the captain. He asked me to try to fight him. I approached and tried to swing my sword at his legs. He easily saw that I was missing most of my strikes. He punched me in the face, treating me of half-blood Greek. I got REALLY angry at this damn officer! I swinged with all my strengh my sword at his armor, without aiming, without looking... just feeling.

My blow broke the captain's armor and several pieces flew in the room, hitting and hurting some of my fellows.

-"You see, soldiers? That's the way of fighting. Congratulations for you first day of training, Antigon. I rarely saw soldiers with a blow that powerful! Learn from him, miserable Greeks! He got the trick!"


I then understood the meaningless "think sharply, like your sword" bunch of words. It's a trick that can't be described. It's a move you do without thinking. A move you do by feeling your sword. You and your sword are a single thing. A deadly weapon called: soldier.

My first day of training was a good one. A really good one.

I learned the art of warfare.

But, I had to grow in ranks and skills... I had to be better and better to achieve my final objective: being the BEST. That's what I learned today. But, tomorrow is tomorrow.

Chapter V


The life of a soldier isn't much complicated...

I slept in on a couch in the barrack. I had some meaningless nightmares... Once I remember to have seen a black sky, I remember having seen a great cloud of flies, I remember having seen a crashed door with a red "X" on it... Did the Morpheus run out of good sleeping powder?

I didn't sleep with my group. We were dispersed amongst the Carthaginian barracks. I just woke up and something woke me up.

-"And? How did your first day of training start?"

This voice looked familiar. I looked around, and I saw at two inches of my feets someone I was happy to see. My friend Hannit (my friend on the trireme) seemed to have changed. He seemed to be more friendly than last time I've seen him.

-"Well, I broke my captain's armor with a sword swing... He told me I would make a great soldier and blah blah blah!

-Pretty lucky you are, fellow! Our armors are hard to break! You got one of these swings we need in our army."

I blushed. I rarely had compliments like that since my first day of training. I guess I probably made something that pleased him.

We dressed up and ate up our morose ration: soup with crude dry bread. Better than nothing... I was ready for my second day of training. Strangely, I was put in another group. The only known face I saw was Phillipos' one (my partner of yesterday). I was given a less ridiculous cask, and armor. I was also given a long spear. The other soldiers were gazing at me with a kind of “admiration”. I was told that I was the first soldier since Hannibal himself that broke the armor of someone with a single blow at the first day of training. I was quite happy to learn that I earned the Carthaginians’ respect! The captain, a tall one this time, learned us how to wield a spear, how to place it in defensive position, etc. I also learned how to hold correctly their big rectangular shields. It wasn’t difficult being a soldier, for now. Days after days, we learned more and more moves requiring more and more accuracy and precision. I had a vast repertory of deadly strikes.

One day, the captain asked me if I’ve once rode a horse. I remembered having rode my first black stallion. I called him Grassos. This name was chosen because he liked to ride in the high grasses. The grassy land of Sicily was a wonderful world for him. I then remembered our separation… He had an incurable sickness (which I don’t remember the exact name)… and I was forced to kill him with a flax. Then, I hated war.

Then, my opinion changed. War wasn’t bad. But, “war is sweet for those who never experienced it”.
I was given a horse. A “rust” one. He was called Hanno. I approached near him. He looked flatly at me. I mounted him, and he bowed. He was in total submission. Anyway, we rode together, knowing we could count on each other. I was what they called a “long shield cavalry”. I was happy. I felt an old happiness I lost when I was little. My heart felt full once again. I felt good. I enjoyed being a soldier. Phillipos was also a horseman. We were in the same regiment: Carthage’s twentieth regiment of long shield cavalry. I, Phillipos, and Hannit were in the same regiment. We trained together, learning new tricks and tactics. A hardened friendship emerged from us. Friendship is a marvellous thing when you like beholding to someone.

After III weeks of hard training, the captain looked sternly at us. He told us we were going to embark for Spain to fight the Iberians. We were inexperienced in combat. Our first test was going to happen, at last!

-“Here, weak soldiers will perish and the good ones should be able to survive. But, remember that always the best leave our world first. So, I hope that Baal keeps you to our world. I am glad of the kind of soldiers you became. Your long shield cavalry regiment will maybe, one day, grow to “Sacred Band Cavalry”. Only the best get this honorific title. They are the elite of the Carthaginian society. Also, you can also get to the Poeni Infantry rank if you are tired of being a rider. But, when your heart is brave, you are a rider during all your life!”

Hannibal Barca was going to lead us against the ferocious Iberians. I hope I won’t deceive him. I won’t! No, I won’t! I’ll prove him I’m the best!

The next day, I embarked for Carthago Nova, the farthest outpost Corduba’s army captured, with my Greek and Carthaginian fellows. My friends. My brothers-in-arms. Yes, my brothers-in-arms. I like this term. I was wondering if Spain was an as marvellous country as Carthage and Syracuse. We’ll see…

Chapter VI

The mighty Carthaginian fleet took a week and a half to reach Carthago Nova. I was wondering if Spain was a nice place to live… I can now say it’s one of the worst places to live. Carthago Nova was a dirty ugly place. Houses were partly dry mud houses or little insignificant huts. The people who lived here were viril but ugly people. It’s just my thought… (The author got nothing to do in that!) I looked flatly at the broken wooden wall. These defences were pitiful. The governor’s villa wasn’t even finished constructing. The water alimentation system was quite rudimentary. There weren’t even roads! In what kind of place did they sent us?

Hannit, on my right, was glad to fight on my side. He told me I was a good soldier. He told me the key of being a good soldier was “discipline”. The Romans learned it quite fast, but the Iberians didn’t. He heard that two great Spanish armies were waiting for us near Numantia. After having ejected the Gauls from this city, they decided to get the Carthaginians out of their “country”. Their chieftain was a man called “Jarkl”. A difficult name to pronounce, I know. He was known as a leader of many rebellions in North of Corduba. This trouble-maker made enough trouble, thought the Carthaginian royal family. It was time to put an end to this threat.

I rode my horse slowly, caressing him. His breath was hot and soft. It was a good and loyal companion even if he didn’t show his interest of being my horse. He was a strange beast.

The army walked in a column formation II days long. I looked at our flag-bearer, Beram. He was a hardened veteran of our regiment. He fought many war in Gaetulia with the Numidians. Weak but numerous opponents. His dark black hair were short and straight. He wasn’t really talkative, but everyone listened to him when he had something to say. He earned the eldest soldiers’ respect a long time ago. His flag was scratched and tore down, but the blue half of moon was still visible on the white cloth. The silver pole seemed to have a long service in the Carthaginian army.

Now, back to the march. Our column was a bit stretched . The cold air of the rising mountains was quite uncomfortable. I wasn’t enough covered to feel comfortable anyway. My armor seemed to weight more and more. The dense freezing air seemed to leech our strength.

I was in the middle of the column. Then, I heard a horn ahead. Our trumpets replied. The Iberians were beginning their full-scale attack. We were asked to go quickly to the front to help the front guard. We rode in an ordered double-line to the combat. The infantry were running to help their helpless leader. Our army needed time to form up a decent formation for combat. We arrived quite early. We saw that Hannibal, his bodyguards and some “Sacred Band Cavalry” were fighting their way out of the fierce Iberians. They were trapped in their circle. They could barely fight to death. They needed help. I saw Hannibal being slashed to the face. His beautiful bronze helmet started a heating fire in my soul. I felt comfortable, at last! Our captain gave orders.

-“CHARGE! FOR THE MIGHT OF CARTHAGE! TO HANNIBAL! TO HANNIBAL!”

We cheered and charged like madmen. I had the fastest horse, so my spear hit the first Iberian that we reached. The shock was quite hard to handle. I took back my spear and put it at my back. I took out my short sword and swinged it several times with a remarkable deadly precision. I kept riding forward, being slashed at the arms and at the legs. The pain was horrible to endure. I kept riding forward… I then saw our beloved Hannibal being drove off his horse by a wooden spear. I took my spear, felt my weapon and thought sharply. I threw my spear with a surprising strength. My weapon flew high in the air and passed through two Iberians near my general. I kept riding forward, being slashed and hit. I then tried to go down my horse to find Hannibal. I saw him, unconscious, and slapped him hardly in the face, without reflecting. My shield protected me (fortunately) from the sword hits. Hannibal “woke up” in five seconds and gazed at me with a strange face. He mounted his horse and I did the same. The trumpets of my regiment sounded loudly in the countryside.

A breach was opened in the Iberian mass of warriors. Hannibal and the left of his front guard (without forgetting my regiment) rode back to the main army. I was glad to be sent to a Poeni Infantry regiment because my horse was too much exhausted to fight. My horse needed some rest after a ride like the one we did. Being considered as a soldier this good was quite exciting. Hannibal took proudly his place in the ranks. My cavalry regiment stood back in the third line. The Iberians cheered, thinking they won the battle. Hannibal barely lost a man out of fifteen. His elite men were quite hard to kill. My regiment had less luck. Half of it joined Baal’s hall of honor. This sad lost wasn’t an excuse for us to stop fighting. The cavalry took position on the hill at the rear of our army. I took my long spear with me, grabbed my great shield, adjusted my helmet, and pointed my spear at the Iberian army as did the other soldiers of my regiment. Our army cheered loudly, listening to Hannibal’s speech before battle. The

The Carthaginians’ phalanx formation was set, we were ready.

Chapter VII

The long spear I was given was quite heavy for me to lift. My light armor wasn’t really protective. I felt the ground tremble. A great rumble made us a bit weary… A really REALLY big army of round shield cavalry was charging. I smiled.

-“Why are you smiling, Antigon? Are you mad?” asked my companion on the right.
-“You could say I’m mad… I just saw that in their little white suit is a bit ridiculous. They’re going to freeze their ---! (the author is polite, remember!)”

The whole company laughed. It was true that they weren’t dressed enough. The skirmishers suddenly threw their javelins that went through the cavalry formation. I never impaled a horse before. It’s an horrible feeling. My spear stuck in a horse, and its rider was thrown up in our formation. A huge BANG was heard. That should have hurt.

Back to the battle. Our phalanx formation held pretty well against their cavalry charge. They fled back immediately after the first real fight. What a bunch of cowards! Oh… I’m talking like one of my captains… We didn’t chase them. Suddenly, my heart wasn’t sure if it had to be happy for the victory or worried by what was about to happen. I suddenly saw in horror that there were Spanish warriors everywhere. At our back, at our right, at our left, and at our front. They were thirsty for the slaughter. I heard screams and sword clashes at the rear. I then saw the approaching Spanish army. They had oblong shields, and green suits. Suddenly, they stopped. They took their javelins. I heard our captain giving orders.

-“SHIELD FORMATION! Watch for the shock!”

The two or three volleys of javelins was a pain to endure. Two javelins stuck hard in my shield.

–“Take out your swords! SHOW THEM WE’RE REAL SOLDIERS!”

We took out our swords. Hannibal was encouraging his men. Leading them to a fierce battle. I ran with my company at the Iberian army. We crashed down, slaughtering and killing. My blade kept flying and striking. I killed probably a dozen of soldiers in this battle. These soldiers weren’t worthy opponents at all. Half of them weren’t even trained.

We rapidly drove the Iberians back. Hannibal decided to talk to the army.

-“Men of Carthage, Syracuse, Lylibaeum, Thapsus, and from other cities friendly to Carthage! Today, we won a battle. But, we didn’t win the war yet. Jarkl (I’m still wondering how he pronounced it right) will probably fall back to Gaul. The Romans have occupied the south of Gaul. They are just waiting for us to come. Even if war isn’t officially declared, these bastards only waited with impatience to face us! March with me to Gaul!”


The men cheered. We would have followed Hannibal to the end of the world, if he had asked us. Each of us would have died for him. That’s probably what will happen when we face the Romans.

Two weeks later, my horse got better. He was now in full shape! I mounted him and joined my regiment of long shield cavalry. I’ve heard that our captain was killed during the attack. He took a javelin right in the chest and the gangrene did the rest. This sickness really disgusts me! Hannit was now our new captain. I was glad to meet our new commander this morning. The army left Numantia in the early of morning. We were about to make a long march through the Pyrenees. I hope this countryside will look better than what I’ve seen of Spain.

Chapter VIII

Our march was delayed because of a snow storm. Me and my companions (Phillipos, Hannit, and Beram, the flag-bearer) walked in Numantia. The city was still as ugly as Carthago Nova, but more people lived in it. Beram decided to go along with us because his only friend was our ancient captain. He wanted to devellop friendship with us. He was a good person even if he didn't talk much. The streets were paved, this time. Paved uglily, but paved anyway. At the market, I bought myself a blue scarf. So did my companions. Also, I was given a heavy armor. I loved being dressed with metal plates as an armor. This armor protected really better than my old one. I was also given long rectangular plates for my legs. I had the Poeni Infantry uniform. I was happy. But, the appearance isn't everything.

Phillipos was a talkative man. He loved to tell us histories about the first punic war and the battles of Alexander the Great. He was a cultured and wise person. His blond and curly hair seemed to attract the women more than my short, straight, and chestnut hair. He had a lot of success with women.

Hannit, on his side, was a generous person. He loved to give something to the poor people wandering in the streets. He was a fanatic drinker, unfortunately. His new promotion, he drank it. His "little advance" payment sank with his wine.

Suddenly, a soldier came to find Hannit.

-"Captain, Hannibal says we're leaving the camp! We're heading for Narbo Martius. Prepare your men. Departure in fifteen minutes."

I wasn't afraid anymore of the freezing mountain air. I had a hot and warm uniform and, most important of all, a scarf. I loved wearing a blue scarf. It made me look like a "noble" man.

We were advancing through the Pyrenees. I saw it was a nice place. The white snow made me think about sugar. Sugar was sweet and tasty. Unfortunately, snow wasn't tasty at all... The white clouds in the sky were tenderly smiling at us. The Pyrenees weren't really difficult to cross. Valleys and large passes were practical to use. My horse Hanno seemed to appreciate the cold wind that whipped his face. I saw a bright shining in his eyes. Most of the soldiers of my company were looking flatly at the mountain peaks, indifferent. Their indifference made me wondering... Did they take the time to appreaciate the marvellous show that nature offered freely to us?

-"Damn snow! I hate snow! Stupid and ugly snow! I hate snow! I hate winter! Damn stupid sticky snow! It sticks to you and freezes your feet, and if you don't take it out freezing your hands, your feet will hurt like hell! ARG! I HATE SNOW AND WINTER!"

Phillipos didn't seem to appreciate snow that much, as I heard. I prefered the hot sand of the African coast. I didn't care much of what he thought about winter and snow... We were advancing slowly. Also, I saw the soldiers saying that Hannibal brought elephants from Carthage. What were elephants? I've never seen any of them... Bah, probably a special kind of archers... Needless!

A "Sacred Band Cavalryman" interpelled me.

-"Hey, Antigon! Was it you who threw the spear that pierced two Iberians at Numantia?
-Ghee... I guess it's me!
-Well, next time, BE MORE CAREFUL! YOU NEARLY IMPALED MY HORSE! DUMMY!
-Well, I'm sorry for you. It was the precious little soft skin of your horse or Hannibal's one.
-Anyway, let's stop arguing. Our general Hannibal wants to see you. Follow me."

I followed him to the front guard of the column. A friendly smile was being drawed slowly on Hannibal's face.

-"Ha! Soldier, what's your name? Your face tells me something...
-I am Antigon... great one!
-Come on, you can call me Hannibal. It is I who should call you "great". You saved my life... I saw you while I woke up. The slap you gave me was quite disgracious from yourself!
-Well, I'm sorry...
-Sorry, but for what? I needed that slap... I want to thank you for having saved me. Few are able to do what you did. I wanted you to realize it.
-Well, I'm glad I made my part.
-I hope you will continue like that. You need just a little more experience to become a Sacred Band rider. When the time will be the right time, I want you to be my bodyguards' leader. I hope you will consider that this rank is only given to the High Society of Carthage.
-I consider it...
-Well, I hope you will stay alive long enough to live this moment, if we come back to Carthage!"

The discussion ended when one of Hannibal's captains asked him to go see something at the fifth regiment of Lybian spearmen...

The next day, we arrived in Narbo Martius. The streets were empty, the city was desert. I guess the Romans ran away from the us... I guess the Iberians were regrouping at Massilia with the Roman army to face us.

I didn't know that one of my best friends would die at Massilia. If I did, I would maybe tried to change the course of future... Too sad that he died...

Back to the story. The army headed for Massilia. We were going to win more than a battle if we won at Massilia. A direct access to Gaul was our main reward. Also, I heard that the elephants made more time than the rest of the army to reach Narbo Martius. I guess these "elephants" (who here can tell me what these things are?) will arrive late in battle if things go wrong.

Being late doesn't excuse the fact that ponctuality is an important quality that an army must have.

Chapter IX

Gaul is a nice country to live in. A more beautiful country than Spain, for sure. I heard that the Romans "bought" the Iberians to fight us... What a bunch of afraid cowards!

I galloped with my friends in the grassy land. It was late automn. We met the roman army soon enough. I was with a scout party. We rode in a little forest. Suddenly, a buccin sounded. I saw roman equites charging at us. The fight was brief but significant. My spear crashed down in a roman horse and its rider was projected backwards on the ground. The others ran away. In the fight, I was told that Beram was gravely wounded. A great sadness fulfilled my heart, knowing that I would maybe lose one of my best friends. The rest of my party looked at me with an air of compassion. They gave me the Carthaginian flag Beram used to possess. I was proud to be given the honor of carrying the regiment's banner. I then realized that the banner was a silver spear with a banner on it. I didn't need my old spear, now. I was also given the traditional flag-bearer's cloak. A white cloak. I felt proud to carry the banner. It was a sign of deep respect for someone.

I searched the ground to look for some wounded. Then, I heard a little noise. A weak trembling voice. He spoke in latin.

-"Help me, mister... please... Don't let me lie on the cold soil... I want to go home!"

I saw a young roman lying on the ground. I saw he was about to be seventeen. A quite young man to be on a battlefield. I decided to take him on my horse and to carry him to the camp. This roman had a red cloak with a decurion cask. I saw that his leg was bleeding. I then realized that his wound was a pain to endure. I brought him to the medical headquarters. Our campment was near the doors of Massilia. The Romans weren't besieged... Hannibal prefered to "negociate" with the Romans on the battlefield. Some Iberians were along the roman army.

I put the Roman on a table. A healer then came to see me.

-"I don't treat the Romans... kill him or leave him where he was...
My anger exploded.
-WHAT? You say you can't treat him because he's a Roman? BECAUSE HE'S A ROMAN?!? Know, dear one, that Romans are humans and that Carthaginians are too. He deserves the same status as you: the status of a living man. So you're going to stop your disgusting excuse for taking rest and you're going to TREAT THIS ROMAN LIKE ANY OTHER CARTHAGINIAN SOLDIER! If you ask me to kill him one more time, I'll cut your throat without you finish your sentence!"

My little speech seemed to have convinced him. He began his treatment to the Roman... The Roman tried to say something, but I whispered him to take some rest.

Then, Phillipos, Hannit and I went to see Beram. He was in a bad state but was alive. That's what counted. A horn sounded. It was the alarm horn. We ran to our horses.

Some minutes later, the army was regrouped. The Romans were attacking. Their reknowned tactic was simple: send their lesser troops in first wave, their Principes at the second wave, and their veterans at the third wave. They were advancing at a regular beat. Iberians followed behind the roman formation.

Buccins sounded loudly in my ears. Our infantry advanced forward to meet the Romans. My regiment and two other ones were sent in a desert place South of Massilia. I was told that we had a crucial role. Only Hannit was told of Hannibal's plan. We were placed in a little forest near the roman formation. We were hidden in the woods, and we saw the Roman army marching at their unnerving regular beat. Their discipline was nearly perfect. Too perfect. They had a weakness, and I think Hannibal found it out. We observed the Romans, trying to figure out what Hannibal had in head...

Fortunately, I had my banner with me... The old but beautiful banner of our regiment.

Chapter X

The Romans were fighting with a great ferocity the Carthaginian phalanx formation. The Poeni Infantrymen help well. They were pushing back the Romans more and more. But, roman legionnaries kept arriving to fight Hannibal's army.

The fellow soldiers of my regiment were growing impatient. They were wondering if Hannibal would need them... Hannit kept responding "In time, he'll need us."

The Carthaginian phalanx was now breached. The wall of pikes was completely tore into pieces... The sword combat began with a great courage on each side. I saw the Carthaginians fighting with a rage that had to explode one day. While, Hannit led us to near the roman gates. Still hidden by the woods, we were waiting with hunger for the upcoming battle. Suddenly, the Romans retreated to the gates. They seeked for refuge in their stone walls. Then, Hannit led us to the opened gate. We rode through the streets of Massilia. The night was falling. During the fight, I saw that Hannit had fallen on the ground, his horse impaled. My horse was hit by several arrows during the fight. I had to unmount him and to go seek cover... My fellow companions rode out of the city, wondering why Hannibal had sent them there? I saw Hannit going into the stairs of the gate tower. I followed him, followed by Phillipos. His horse was taken down too. I heard screams and metal glints. Climbing the stairs, Phillipos and me saw that many Romans were killed. Then, I reached the walls. I saw Hannit, striking without stopping. He was heading for the other tower. I kept following. I kept swinging my sword, killing legionnaries.

Then, I met Hannit in the tower. He was roaring his hate. Phillipos and me helped him out to clean the room. The gate switch was waiting to be turned. The gate was opened, at last! I went at the top of the tower, showing my banner high. Arrows whistled near me and kept missing me.

The rest of the army went in the city, chasing the routing Romans.

The next morning, the city was ours. The Gauls were regrouping with us at Massilia to attack Rome itself. Two days later, a horn sounded. Hannit told me that the elephants had arrived. I was really impressed. Elephants were far from being a special kind of archers. Elephants were gigantic beasts with something the Carthaginians named a trump. A war tower was put on their back. Archers stood in it to fire projectiles at the ennemies. I want to see them in action as soon as possible!

Massilia, what a wonderful city... Hannibal decided to wait for the Gallic army to join our army. Something told me that joining the Gauls wasn't a good solution. Hannibal decided to wait for a week: the men needed some rest. Hannibal left us with a part of his army to face the Romans at the river Trebia. He came back victorious. While, Phillipos, Hannit, and I were still riders without a horse... We were still waiting to be given some new horses by the Gauls.

Anyway, I lived a calm life at Massilia during three weeks.

Chapter XI

The life was calm at Massilia. The men were at last spending some good time. The Gauls came tribes by tribes to camp near Massilia. It was good not to be alone in our fight! The Gauls didn't really bother us...

I'd have liked to live in Massilia. The mix of roman and gallic architecture pleased me very much. This city was quite civilized... I then had a second look over the Roman nations.

I decided to go see if our Roman wounded was better. I entered in the tent, seeing that the healer stood distant. I saw that the Roman was eating a bowl of soup as if he didn’t eat since a month. He was better. I approached near him.

-“So, I see your wound has healed well!
-Yes, mister, he answered.
-What’s your name, decurion?
-Well… I am Gaïus Grachus. I was put in this roman legion because I lost everything good I had possessed.
-Everything good you had possessed? What do you mean?
-I mean that I was disinherited… Rome banned my family from the Senate and from Rome. I had nothing to do with my life… No one wanted to give me a honest work… I then decided to fight for Rome to try to gain back my honor. But, I see that Rome has nothing to do about honest people like my family. They send their “political rivals” to hell. Even if I was given the chance of going back to Rome, I won’t. I think I’ll just stay there in this tent and kill myself…”

That declaration made me waver. Something told me that he was a nice guy. He had to live.

-“Well, you can still come with us! You know how to fight, you aren’t a Roman of Rome anymore… You got the right of joining us… A new arrival of gallic horses just arrived yesterday… You could fight along with our regiment…”

He agreed to join us. Also, I went to see Hannibal. I told him he had a debt towards me. He agreed to let the decurion live and to make him join our regiment.

Gaïus was given a new uniform, but decided to keep his red cloak and his decurion helmet, as a sign of his will of fighting. Phillipos, Hannit, Beram (who was now all right, I gave him back his banner), the rest of the regiment, and me greeted him with a great enthusiasm. Gaïus felt in his element. Despite the fact he was really young, we agreed to make him fight. But, we always tried to protect him no matter what. Beram always stood near him, watching every of his movements. He was a kind of “bodyguard”…

My comrades were glad to know a good Roman. Not all Romans were bad… just the ones from the Senate. My new horse isn’t worth describing… For me, this horse got barely nothing special!

Chapter XII

We left Massilia in the early spring. We were riding, singing. Our morale was completely shining in the countryside. We were joyful of going to war with numerous Gallic warriors against Rome itself. We were crossing the Alps. The high mountains were really hard to cross. I saw that some elephants were too heavy to pass on some of the mountain passes. Some of them fell down of the mountains and crashed down somewhere in the snow. This cross was really hard and exhausting. Even though, the morale was still high. My blue scarf I bought around Numantia kept my neck warm. I liked wearing a scarf.

I liked to observe the high peaks of the Alps. Crossing mountains was a nice experience for me, even if lots of soldiers died falling down or being completely frozen. I always try to see the positive side of events. Anyway…

We crossed the mountains for five months!!! It was a really long crossing. The mountains seemed endless. Since we left Corduba, nine years had passed. I lived lots of adventures. In my diary, I’ve put the time limit less long for better reading. For real, our campaign lasted nine years until we reached the end of the Alps. We faced some barbarians, but no Romans were seen. Then, I saw the green lands. The nice green lands! The hot sun of the Italian lands! Pizza! Huh? What did I just say? Bah… probably another meaningless word I found in my creative mind… We cheered as the army reformed what was left of it in the land of Rome. We were ready to show our worth! The Romans had no way to escape or to call for help! They were really in a bad position to ask for negotiations.

But, the lands weren’t fertile anymore… Every kind of food was burned… The cereals of the once fertile soil of Rome was now burned… The black soil was really horrible to look at. No food! That meant that we had to finish the Romans fastly.

We faced three little Legions… We all defeated them. Rome’s high walls held well anyway. I still remember the first assault we did on the city.

My regiment unmounted their horses. We were called to the enemy walls. Ladders were placed, but the siege towers didn’t reach the walls yet. Men were needed to push them. We pulled with all our strength the gigantic towers. Some archers were placed at the top to shoot at the Roman defenders. We pulled. I saw our battering ram being shot with multiple volleys of arrows that tore off its carriers. The Romans were well prepared. The Gauls attacked the western part of the city, while we attacked the southern part. The Gauls weren’t gaining any terrain. Suddenly, we instinctively stopped pulling the siege tower. Men were going through the ladders of the siege tower to get at the top. My companions and I climbed the ladders. Then, the little bridge fell down on the wall. We cheered, and charged. Suddenly, an order was given in latin and I heard lots of simultaneous whistles. Arrows came with a devastating precision in our formation. Far more than half of our men fell down, motionless forever, their eyes widely opened. Then, I jumped at the wall, as made my companions. Gaïus showed a particular courage in this battle… He kept slashing and stabbing his way through the Roman centurion. Then, he reached him and slaughtered him with a disgusting violence. We fought bravely too, but a catapult rock crashed in the siege tower, tearing it apart. We were trapped. The Carthaginians retreated a while ago, and we had to surrender. We were put in a cold jail cellar. The hygiene was completely unacceptable. The prisoners were kept, but not chained. I hated being held as a prisoner in a disgusting jail.

Chapter XIII

We were kept in a jail during a whole month, far from every source of help we could have… I heard rocks crashing in the city. I heard screams and orders permanently given. Legionaries were running to every place that needed help. They were always busy.

Then, I looked at Phillipos. I whispered at him to try to break his chain. He told me a “No problem…” that reassured me. He broke easily the cheap chain, and did the same to us. A legionary came to bring us water. He looked strangely at Gaïus, saying:

-“What are you doing here? Come back on the Roman side… We need men like you to help defeat the Gauls and the Carthaginians.
-I’m on their side now… Rome had nothing to do with my life, I got nothing to do with their future. Leave me alone, and go rot somewhere else with your friends with their broken honor.”

We were proud to see that Gaïus didn’t abandon us. The legionary opened the door, and Phillipos literally jumped on him. He got out with us, and reached the armory nearby. No one recognized us from being Carthaginians… People only took us for slaves. No one was in the armory. We dressed up, took a gladius and a pilum, and wore the roman armors. Despite the fact we weren’t shaved, no one could recognize us. We ran to the gate without caring about the rocks that fell near us. We were twenty “brave legionaries” going to combat… He he he! That’s probably what the Romans thought.

We saddled horses in the stables, and ordered to open the gates. I liked wearing the Roman helmets and their armors… they were comfortable… really comfortable. Gaïus still had his decurion helmet, so he ordered the guards to open the gates. The watchers obeyed, without thinking. Their discipline drove them completely stupid, or what? They didn’t even wonder why twenty soldiers would get out of the city.

We rode out, and we reached the Carthaginian camp. Everyone was glad to see us. Unfortunately, I saw that the Carthaginian soldiers weren’t in a better state than us. Everyone was running out of food! The Gauls relied on us to eat! I was told that we were running out of food since a week! Some soldiers even ate pieces of their uniform… also, we were called back to Carthage. The Gauls got back to their homeland and were trying to live in peace. Peace won’t last, I’m sure of it. Damn Romans! We were getting them! We followed Hannibal during fourteen years, and we had to go back to Carthage! Hannibal told me I could go back to Syracuse. Syracuse… I wanted to see my family and my friends again! I hope they just remember how I look like… Probably they won’t. I’ve changed so much! Fourteen years of war, and we had to leave because we were running out of food. The Romans knew what they did when they burned everything eatable that we could reach.

I set sailed, with my twenty last companions of my regiment, to Syracuse. Hannit and Beram headed for Carthage. Phillipos and Gaïus decided to come with me. The bireme was waiting for me... as freedom did.


Serie II

Chapter I
Epilogue

We reached the coast of Syracuse making a detour to avoid the navy of Messana. Why did Hannibal have to go back to Carthage? We could still attack Rome and break the Roman capital… I still don’t understand why he went back to Carthage… Was he afraid or did he need absolutely to go back for an unknown reason? Still… We saw a long column of black smoke. It came from Syracuse… My heart completely exploded!!! What happened to my beloved natal city???

I ran to the rams of the bireme and rammed like a mad. Phillipos helped me, fearing the same thing I feared. We reached rapidly the city… well I don’t know if we could call it a city anymore… The walls were completely destroyed, the houses were still burning… The once beautiful bright sand was now red. I saw an eagle… a Roman one. I saw that every civil the town had was brutally slaughtered. The Romans I had once respected were now the worst impure race of humans I have ever heard about. Even the Persians wouldn’t do such an atrocity deliberately! For the first time of my life, I felt empty, broken. I didn’t even looked for my friends and my family. I guess they were all dead by now. I felt cold… really cold… I was feeling mad, crazy. I had lost everything, like Gaïus. Everything… The Romans took everything I loved from me and destroyed it. My four friends, my money, and my sword was everything I had left. I gave back my carthaginian armour back to the Carthaginians before I embarked for Syracuse. I was now dressing with the roman armour I had stolen in Rome. Then, madness took my soul. I became completely crazy.

I woke up three hours later. I remembered nothing of my past three hours. My whole body ached really much. Phillipos told me I was screaming and running in the streets, yelling at the dead bodies, saying them to get up and live. I was hitting the walls with my sword until my sword broke. I was hitting my head on the walls… Madness makes you do strange things. Phillipos and my companions had to knock me off with a wooden bat. That’s why my body ached so much!

I was sitting on a wooden box. My companions stood near me. They were looking sadly at me with pity. I was a broken man. I had nowhere to go… Nowhere, except Carthage… I looked sadly at the city that was once a marvellous city. The streets were stinking… I was completely disgusted. I tried to get out of my mind the vision of the decayed bodies in putrefaction… Eww…

My twenty last companions of what was once one of the best regiments of cavalry of Carthage were loyal friends. The best ones I ever had. I wondered what Hannit and Beram had becomed. We decided to go back to Carthage… We wanted to start a new life in the great city of Carthage. The men cheered, and we went in the bireme and set sailed to Carthage. I gazed at the horizon… I was a broken man… I remembered a sentence I learned during my first days of training. “Being a soldier means being broken and rebuilt in a new man after.” Gaïus experienced it. I experienced the “breaking” part… Now, I had to be rebuilt.

I had to be rebuilt...

Chapter II

We took three weeks to reach the shores of the Carthaginian coast. I still had the horrible vision of Syracuse in my head. I had an empty and glassy stare. My companions didn’t try to comfort me: they knew nothing would work. Why did the Romans do such a crime? Why did they did such a savage and brutal slaughter? I knew that the house of Scipii did it. Only them weren’t involved in Rome’s defense. I began to reflect. I reflected during long hours.

I stepped on the bronze sand. I was indifferent. This emotion I had walking on sand had evaporated and crumbled with Syracuse. A smile simply couldn’t be seen on my face. We landed on the coast because something seemed to block the port. We couldn’t approach from the port. Ballistas were shooting fire projectiles at us. We had to land in another place. We walked to Carthage. I saw that a big roman camp was dressed near the city. Romans! Romans everywhere! The high walls were nearly broken at certain places. What had happened? With the night’s favour, we ran into Carthage. The “welcome to the most beautiful city of the world” had disappeared. We were only hearing confuse orders and soldiers running through the streets.

-“TAKE COVER! THEY’RE LOADING THEM! SEEK COVER FOR BAAL’S SAKE!”

Then, I saw a burning rock flying through the sky. It crashed down in a house that was in my streets. The five walls of Carthage were being besieged. War has come to Carthage itself… Zeus save us! Rocks began raining in the city. Some weren’t burning, but they were more deadly because we couldn’t see them. I was constantly bumped by Carthaginian soldiers. I ran through the streets with my companions to find help to tell us what was going around. Suddenly, someone bumped me really hard, but this person apologized.

-“Hannit?
-Don’t tell me…
-Yes…
-They dared to…
-Yes…
-And you are here because you got nowhere else to-
-Yes… What happened here?
-Hannibal was beaten by Scipio the African at Zama. A terrible defeat. I’ve been promoted to a Sacred Band Cavalryman.
-Glad to see it.
-Listen, I know that you got reasons to feel sad, but stop this. What happened to the talkative man I met before?
-He died three weeks ago.”

We stopped the discussion here. Hannit was really well informed about what was happening in the world. We didn’t need to talk that much… Words were meaningless now. We could understand each other without talking. We could read in someone’s mind just looking at his face.

He brought me at the royal palace. A rock had tore apart the golden gates of the palace. Hannibal was now really pale. I gazed at him, and he made a sign with his hand. He wanted to be alone. We went into another room. Suddenly, Hannibal got up. He looked at me and said:

-“Listen, you are going to be the Sacred Band Cavalry leader. I want you to do your best to protect Carthage. I am broken, and I know you are too. But, you are multiple persons. There’s the Antigon of Syracuse, Antigon the soldier, and there will be Antigon of Carthage. Become the one who will be the last standing Carthaginian.”

I had to become Antigon of Carthage? I think the fever took his reason. Then, Hannit knew what Hannibal meant. He brought me to the armoury. Then, he told me to forget my old little sword. He gave me a magnificent long sword. It was shining with a great intensity in the dark. It was made of a secret metal only Hannit’s father knew.

-“Proeth’s swords… My father’s ones. He made one specially for you. He knew the Romans would sack Syracuse… He knew you would come back. He knew everything. I’m now going to arm you like a real Carthaginian noble. You are our leader! Too bad that Beram was put in another long shield cavalry regiment.”

He gave me a great plated armour. A rich and solid one. I still observed my sword. It was quite heavy, but I could wield it and fight with it with a great grace and power. Many Carthaginian words were carved in it, as “hope”, “memory”, “last one standing”, and “best of Carthaginians”. I knew who I really was now. I was many persons, but all these persons stuck together gave a single person. The person I am now. Right now. I also dressed a Carthaginian suit. A magnificent suit to go to war. I was also given a great ancient shield. Another shield with an unknown metal. I was given a sharp spear.

I was given a Carthaginian bronze helmet, but I decided to take another one. At Hannit’s surprise, I took a special helmet. I visited the whole armoury and found out what I was looking for. I had to go to battle with THIS helmet and no other. It was the last touch, but the essential one.

I took a hoplite helmet. The symbol of Greece’s army. A symbol of the might of Greece.

Chapter III

I was brought to the place-of-arms. Hannibal and every of my companions were dressed for war. Every Carthaginian of the city was there, standing. They were all looking at me… Hannibal made his speech.
-“People of Carthage! The man next to me is Antigon. He followed me to Rome’s gates, got captured and even survived to come back! This Greek is one of the most courageous of all! Antigon is assigned to a single mission: To lead our people to victory or death! He is the Sacred Band leader and I hope that he will be respected. He is now a member of the Barca family because I adopted him!”

I stared at him…

-“I present you, soldiers, Antigon, the Greek Carthaginian!”

Everyone cheered… Everyone acclaimed me… Even though, I felt sad. Even all the honors in the world couldn’t replace the emptiness that fulfills my heart. Then, I said:

-“To war! We will not have fought against Rome and have seen Syracuse burning for nothing! If we have to fall, WE’LL GIVE THEM THE CHANGE FOR WHAT THEY GAVE US! AND TRUST ME, THE INVOICE WILL BE STEEP! MOUNT YOUR HORSES! GRAB YOUR SPEARS! RIDE TO WAR WITH ME! WE HAVE TO MAKE THEM PAY! TO WAR!!!”

It was a marvellous speech. The people of Carthage had a kind of admiration like the one I had once for Hannibal. I really thought what I said. We had to make them pay.

I slowly mounted my horse, putting my the decurion red cloak that Gaïus gave me. He told me he wanted his kind to see that I can beat with no problem a legionary… two, three… whatever. He wanted me to make them feel afraid, for one time in their life. He wanted to get rid of the last “attachment” he had to his ancient life. He wanted to get rid of his cloak. Two good reasons for me to wear it.

The Sacred Band cavalry followed me through the gates. Everything went silent. Hannit stood at my right, Gaïus at my left (he was now nineteen), and Phillipos at my back. Beram decided to be with the rest in Carthage. He was tired of fighting, as we were… But he was tired for too long. He deserved his rest.

A long line deep of four riders was formed. The soldiers kept silent. We gazed with a death glare at the Romans… I think they didn’t know what was about to happen. I took my spear, pointed it high in the air.

-“Zeus will give us strength to beat the Romans! Baal will give us courage to pierce their lines! These two Gods I believe in would help us if I told you they would. But, the Gods aren’t everything. We can fight without their help! For once, stand up and don’t pray the Gods for victory! Trust in you! Believe in your strengths! Gods won’t help us there, we all know it. Religion has nothing to give us now! We must give everything ourselves!”

For the first time of my life, I got fed up with the Gods. I had my good own reasons. We rode slowly to the Roman lines. Their seemed to be a lack in their discipline. A weakness… And I found it out! They were afraid! Fear made its own in their heart! What a enjoyment to see them fearing us at last! My soul roared with pleasure. The warrior in me woke up, and he woke up my soldiers’ one too.

-“RIDE NOW! TO DEATH! FOR THE MIGHT OF OUR BELOVED CARTHAGE!”

The men responded:

-“FOR THE MIGHT OF CARTHAGE!”

And we charged…

Chapter IV

We charged…

Our horses ran forward with an incredible speed. We kept yelling. Arrows flew and went through our horses, but they didn’t seem to feel the pain. We were completely galvanized! The dust flew high in the air behind our cavalry charge.

-“RIDE TO DEATH! RIDE TO GLORY! RIDE TO WAR!
-TO WAR!!!” the men cheered.

Several men fell down, taken down by deadly arrows. I felt two shocks on my shield: two arrows, probably. The sabots of our horses made a terrible rumble. The soil was trembling. The Romans made a wall of shields. Their pilums flew high in the hot and warm air of the African peninsula. Then, I thought about my family… my ancient friends… my homeland… destroyed and disappeared by now. Normally, I’d be sad and cry. But now, I was the greek Carthaginian! I had to stand up and fight! I roared fiercely.

I threw my spear at a legionary. He was completely thrown backwards, even if my spear pierced his shield. I had an incredible strength in me. A pilum nearly hit me. I was the first rider to reach the Roman lines. I came directly through the wall of shields, crashing and wounding everyone in my path. I kept riding forward, ignoring the multiple hits I had to endure. I kept swinging my sword, slashing, wounding, killing. I rode proudly, like an unstoppable demon. Arrows stuck in my armor, but I still didn’t bother. I heard the rest of my Sacred Band riders crashing into the roman formation. I heard screams of terror. My men were well trained. I looked back and saw Hannit fighting alongside Gaïus, who was now a great soldier. His skills were unequalled with the gladius. He was better than me, the BEST one we could even say… But he was still young and his courage failed sometimes. But this time, his courage held firm, like his will of following me to a glorious death. Ah… A glorious death. So much death are shameful… So less are glorious. Like Achilles said, Dying at the highest point of our glory means that immortality awaits you in the men’s soul. Then, I felt really bad. My whole body ached. A pilum was thrust in my armour… Blood ran through my mouth… My rage just grew up, instant by instant. After a while riding and killing, I saw the end of the roman formation. I had completely gone through it. The roman general gazed at me, wondering if I was a demon, a god, or simply a madman. I could say the third choice. I rode, took up a spear from a triarii veteran, and it went through the general. He screamed terribly loud, covering the whole noise that the battle created.

My horse’s sabots made the ground rumble. Then, my back hurt really much. I knew an arrow stuck in my back. And, a second one went through. I was nearly unconscious… I didn’t have the control over myself. I kept fighting, controlled by someone or something I didn’t know at all. After a while, I got back the control of my mind, seeing that the battlefield was covered with thousands and thousands of dead corpses. The battle had gone uncontrolled and undisciplined. The remaining Romans were running back to save their miserable life. Suddenly, I ordered my troops “Halt!”. These Romans didn’t come here alone… It would be too easy… Far too easy. I saw a huge cloud of dust coming from South. I saw several other Roman legions heading to Carthage, marching at their unnerving disciplined beat.

Chapter V

Diary of Phillipos

The might of Carthage has failed. Completely failed…
The city is in flames… The men, women and children are screaming… An horrible vision unfortunately real afflicts my soul… I still remember when Carthage’s heart has failed.

Antigon, wrathful and weak, knew that there would be no possible victory. The Romans were too numerous. Even though, he decided to charge. His madness has taken him again. We followed him, charging and singing war songs. We saw many of us fall down of their horses, pierced by several arrows. Horses were falling down on the hard soil. We reached the Roman lines, and they easily broke off. A bit too easily… We kept riding forward, following Antigon. We didn’t see what was waiting ahead of us because the soldiers were hiding everything. Suddenly, we ran into a wall of pikes. The carnage was horrible. I saw Antigon being slaughtered by a long spear. Our wrath changed into fear… Leaderless, what could we do? I made my way through to save Antigon. I saw that he was dying. I fell down of my horse, and I took him on someone’s horse. I told him to ride as fast as wind to save the rest of the nobility of our kind. “Our kind” meant the Greeks and the Carthaginians. I took a riderless horse and rode back to the city.

-“MOVE BACK! MOVE BACK!” yelled Hannit.

We rode back in shame through the gates of Carthage that were merely broken. Everyone kept silent. I brought Antigon to the royal palace. Everyone was here, wandering… They all gazed at Antigon. We heard sentinels yelling that the Romans brought catapults and onagers. The rocks crashing down in the city didn’t seem to bother us. Only Antigon did. We laid him on a table, being examined by several healers. They were making their best to try to save Antigon… When the healers began “operating” to try to get rid of the arrows, the pilum, and the pike point that were stuck in his body. I thought there was nothing to do… Gaïus seemed to be the most sad… Antigon spared him and even became his friend… He owed him everything he had now… But he was near from death. Hannit, Gaïus, Beram, and me ran together towards the barricades. Suddenly, I heard a terrible noise… Fire rocks smashed into the Elephants kind of “stables”… They were running amok through the city, killing everything in their path. There was nothing to do… The Romans already took the first wall… We headed to the second one to fight to the gate.

(page missing)

We are trapped… The Romans took the second and the third wall… The elephants are running wild through Carthage’s streets… Gaïus got nearly crushed by an elephants an hour ago… We don’t count hours anymore… We are now standing at a barricade made of wall pieces. A tower has crumbled just next to us. Rocks kept smashing in the city… A nightmare… It’s a nightmare…

An horrible nightmare…

Chapter VI

An unknown soldier’s diary

The sky turned red… Carthage was burning… I was fighting with Hannit, my captain, Phillipos, a great soldier, and Gaïus Grachus, a Roman that decided to help us… I saw that the Romans invaded the city with all their legions on the field… I fought bravely with these three soldiers on the barricades. I swung my sword, decapitating a Roman centurion. Phillipos kept stabbing and slashing the enemy soldiers… Gaïus Grachus kept slaughtering with an incredible speed, savagery, and courage. Gaïus was probably the best swordman of Carthage itself. He thrust his sword into a legionary’s chest, took his pilum, and threw it ten meters farther. The pilum brutally killed a roman rider. The horse, riderless, ran wild… The elephants had made a great damage to our troops… The Romans had a great difficulty dealing with these great beasts. Several whole regiments got stumped…


Gaïus Grachus’ diary

The palace gate has fallen… The blockade on the port stopped… The ships were already waiting for the city to fall before going into the docks. I don’t know who will survive here… Beram was slaughtered defending the barracks… Phillipos was still fighting in the archery range, and I am fighting at the palace… We were leaderless… Hannibal was still wounded (because of the battle at Zama, I was told), and I still didn’t know how Antigon was… Suddenly, I saw him going out of the palace… He was alone, with his armor, his hoplite helmet, his long sword, and his great shield. He was still alive! He charged alone at the enemy “urban” cohort, and kept slaughtering, yelling that the Romans took everything he possessed… I ran towards him, followed by Sacred Band soldiers. He was unstoppable. Each of his blow killed at least two soldiers… I saw that the arrow points were still in his back… His armor was bloody (the healers took out the spear point), his sword was too. His helmet was reddened, his shield was too. Suddenly, I saw Roman cavalry heading to our palace. I ordered a phalanx to be made to stop them. A half of the Sacred Band followed my while the other half was dealing with the equites. The Romans Antigon was facing were well trained… I don’t understand how he could defeat them so easily… His eyes were red… The phalanx broke… The equites reached us, and we fought to death…

We made our way through the docks, and I saw Phillipos and Hannit joining us. So few had come to escape… The Romans will not spare anyone Carthaginian in this city… The civilians were killed, the women were raped… The Romans said we were barbarians… maybe THEY are the barbarians after all… I feel a lot of shame knowing that I was once one of them… I’m proud that they banned me. Antigon’s fury had stopped… He was only crying like a child… He had suffered enough… He had suffered too much. Hannibal was waiting for us in a ship, and we moved in it. We took the rams, and fled from the city. I knew that Antigon would feel better… I convinced everyone not to talk to him… He needed to be alone. He was sad… but he wasn’t alone. The sea was silent… Carthage had fallen… The dream of Hannibal crumbled with it… The sea was still silent. The Carthaginians were no more… Antigon was now a Carthaginian. We kept sailing. We gave a last look at Carthage… A large column of smoke rose in the sky, and hid the moon. The sea was silent…

The only noise heard was the cries of Antigon, the Greek Carthaginian.

The only noise heard was the cries of a broken man…

The only noise heard was the cries of the last of his kind…

Sworn Brothers : A Greek Carthaginian’s tale Serie III

Prologue

The blue sky of the Aegean Sea was brightly shining. The trireme was slowly advancing, being directed by the wind and the quiet waves to the shores of Greece. The white shores of Greece with the golden and bronze sand… Ah… Sand…

“Sand was a part of myself. I liked sand. Sand liked me because it warmed me as if I was in my bed with my mother singing me lullabies.”

“My first step on the Carthaginian land was marvellous. There was sand, like at Syracuse. Hot, warm sand. Soft and bright sand. A different sand from Syracuse, anyway. The color was a bit darker, browner. Bronze sand. Yes, bronze sand.”

The sand was a part of Antigon, the Greek Carthaginian. He was gazing at the white shores of Greece, the original sand that every Greek must love deep in his heart. III years after Carthage fell, a few survivors lived lots of adventures. Antigon was a great sailor, like his friend Philippos. The great colossus was sharpening his sword with vigour, singing old songs. This warrior was no more than one of the best friends of Antigon. He lived with him in Syracuse, and followed him in the great Punic campaign against the Romans led by Hannibal Barca himself. Gaïus Grachus, the Roman spared by Antigon which fought on the side of Carthage until its fall, was chatting with Hannit. Hannit, first-of-all a Carthaginian of pure blood, was a soldier and became a Sacred Band rider with Antigon. Hannit was the first man to greet the young Antigon to Carthage. He offered his friendship and his loyalty to him, and Antigon was always grateful and will always have this debt towards him.

Hannibal survived during Carthage’s last battle and was able to flee from the burning city. Unfortunately, he preferred to suicide than to fall into Roman hands in the eastern lands. In the trireme were some Greeks that accompanied Antigon since their recruitment in Syracuse (which was now a Roman province after it was completely destroyed) and some Carthaginians that survived the massacre at Carthage. One of them was a man completely unknown from us since now. This man was one of Hannibal’s best lieutenants at Zama (the famous defeat of Hannibal). His name was Olrond Terenas. A strange name, indeed. His friends simply called him “Terenas”. After the defeat of Carthage, Terenas was the only one who was able to make Antigon cry after the tragic carnage.

No one knows what he told him, but since then Antigon became a hard man, unrecognizable to his old friends. Antigon became cold and his joy of life once so pleasant faded with time. His friends and him have attacked Roman trading biremes since 3 years and lived a lot of adventures, like I said. But, Antigon was tired of attacking unarmed merchants. Could a once great man become even greater again?

Antigon gazed at the shores and saw the port of Athens far away. He could nearly feel his feet on the ground. He smiled grimly, and ordered his men to go faster. Antigon didn’t knew why, but he suspected something strange going on all over Greece. Antigon didn’t forget that the Romans beat the Greeks a long time ago! Greece was under the Romans’ control. Antigon had one thing to keep in mind: being careful not to slaughter the Roman patrols on his way if he didn’t want to end up six feet under the soil.

Antigon looked at his sword, Proeth’s one (Hannit’s father) and remembered the great battles he made with it. He turned back and looked at his men.

“Men, I welcome you to the home of my ancestors: the all-mighty Greece.”

Chapter I

The full moon’s rays gently brought some mysterious ethereal light in the port of Athens. The trireme had made its way past the roman fleet’s patrols, but Antigon and his crew still had to make it to the port. The ship accosted silently. Antigon watched his men, giving them an order with his only glare to keep quiet and to be careful. Gaïus Grachus was nearly the only one who could speak Latin naturally. Antigon and Terenas could too but with a bit of difficulty, but most of the Greeks and Carthaginians only spoke Greek (the “lingua pura”) and other dialects. Gaïus Grachus waited in the trireme and a Roman officer walked slowly to meet the crew. He was tall, slim, and he had a squared face. His face was invisible in his cloak (let’s remember it was sill night though, nearly in the early morning!). Gaïus began to talk:

-“Ave, centurion!
-Ave, sailor. Who are you and your bunch of pirates?
-We’re merchants. We arrive from Chypre. My crew are mostly slaves (he pointed Terenas and the Carthaginians) and sailors (he pointed Antigon and the other Greeks) always ready for an adventure.
-Are you a Roman citizen?
-Yes. I am Gaïus Grachus, a veteran of the army of Scipio the Great during the siege of the great Carthage.”

The officer scratched his chin and continued.

-“May I see what’s in your ship?
-Sure, follow me.”

The Roman followed Gaïus at the ladder and went down. A few minutes later, the centurion came back and said a grim “Good night. Sorry for the restrictions, but I got orders. It seems that a rebellion is going on. I must check if there are any weapons aboard.”. Terenas quickly hid back his dagger into his cloak. He wouldn’t have to use it now, after all. The men left the boat with Gaïus aboard. If the Romans came back for another inspection, Gaïus could easily prove that he had nothing to hide because he was simply an innocent Roman merchant. How could the officer believe such lies?

Antigon was walking in the port of Athens with his 34 men. The once great man easily saw that Greece was under Rome’s control. The all-mighty Greece was nothing more than a Roman province… The streets were dark and dangerous. A lot of bandits and Roman patrols were running in the streets. Often, the crew saw bandits beating up a peasant or a rich merchant to rob his goods. It was better just to turn around and not bother about it. Antigon went to a tavern near the trireme and the men looked happily at the ambiance that they haven’t seen since sooooo much time! But, Antigon whispered: “Remember, folks. No wine, no girls, no trouble.” The men nodded. Antigon went to the owner and asked for chambers. There were 7 free rooms for the crew. Our crew didn’t have money problems, so Antigon paid the owner and told him to keep the change. The men were really tired, so they went to bed earlier than usual. Gaïus, on his side, came back from the shipyard. He said that some of his “friends” garrisoned here would put the ship in a safer place, a more discreet one. He said that it was well guarded. So, the men slept well, this night. The rooms were a bit tight, but there was enough place for everyone.

Everyone slept well, except Antigon. Since Carthage’s fall, he never slept well. He was always tired and food and wine’s tastes didn’t seem to affect him. Everything seemed to be dull. He never smiled with his will; meaning he always had a forced smile. He went out of the tavern and walked through Athens’ streets. A prostitute was walking in the streets too, looking for a “customer”. She invited Antigon, but the Greek answered flatly:

“-D’you know where I lived, sweety?
-Hem… no, great warrior. Your body is quite attractive and…
-I lived in Syracuse.
-Ah, and?
-And it burned down.
-Oh…
-Do you know how ended my wife?
-Hem… she broke up and you want me to provide you with some “services”? (she put a strange accent on the “services”).
-No. She burned.
-And your friends there?
-Roasted by the Romans. But then, I went into another city.
-Which was?
-Carthage. Guess what? It burned too.
-Oookay? (She stepped back hesitantly.)”

Antigon glared at her, and looked at a torch in the street. He looked back at her with a strange look. A furious and crazy look. The woman stepped back another time, and ran, yelling that a maniac was running free in the city. Antigon laughed loudly and continued his nocturnal ride. He wondered if his men and him should have brought with them their weapons. Now, they were in the ship. But, armed men telling they were merchants would be suspicious, eh? Antigon walked back to the tavern, but someone ran into him. The man was running away. He told “Help me, sir! They’re gonna get me! They’re gonna get me!” The Greek warrior took his dagger in his belt and gazed at the darkness. Suddenly, an arrow whistled near him. Antigon grabbed the man and hid behind a barrel. “Stay here and you will be safe.” our hero whispered. The man waited during a minute. The arrows weren’t whistling anymore. He took back his breath and a hand tapped him on the shoulder. He released a nervous scream, but was reassured to see that it was still this mysterious man. “Are they gone, mister?” Antigon nodded, cleaning his dagger from the blood on a barrel plank.

“-Who were they?
-Who are you mister?
-Antigon.
-The one of Carthage?
-What?
-I mean, the one at Carthage fighting the Romans alongside Hannibal?
-How do you know this?
-You are Antigon! The one from Syracuse!!! The legend was true!
-What legend!?!?! nervously said Antigon.
-Some survivors from Carthage fled to Greece and told us about the exploits of you, Greek Carthaginian!
-Chht! Shut your trap, dude! Okay, you won. But, I hate to repeat what I’ve already said, but WHO WERE THESE GUYS?
-Romans. You should know, mister! You killed them after all!
-Why did they attack you?
-I must deliver a message.
-Where?
-You mean that Antigon the Great will help me!?! joyfully said the young man.
-Chht! Shut your trap! To whom must you deliver this message?
-Antigon the Greek Carthaginian is going to help me!!!”
-THE MESSAGE, DUDE! THE MESSAGE!
-Ah, yeah, the message. I must deliver it to Rhodes to a man that I must not name. I don’t know where you’ve been, but a rebellion will collapse soon, out there! Why do you think there are so much Romans in Athens? They are going to be overrun soon! Unfortunately, the rebellion must be organized to be effective. I don’t know the plans of our “leaders”.
-What’s your name, young man?
-Dimitrios. he said shyly.
-An exotic name, huh?
-Well, when are you leaving?
-I’m not leaving, mister.
-Why?
-These Romans killed my ship captain and the rest of my friends. His crew’s dead. How could you make short work of these Romans?
-You should have been to Carthage to know this. Well, come with me. You won’t live long enough in Athens if you stay here. My crew will help you to reach Rhodes.”

So ended the discussion between Antigon and his new friend Dimitrios. They both walked back to the tavern. The sun was slowly rising. A Roman patrol was astonished to see the bodies of XII Romans rotting in the streets.

Antigon woke up his men brutally. They rapidly prepared themselves to leave and reached the small docks where their trireme was hidden. Dimitrios and the crew went aboard the ship and sailed for Rhodes. “To Rhodes, men! A new adventure is awaiting us!”

Chapter II

Personal journal of Hannit

“We are now sailing to Rhodes. From what I’ve heard from Antigon’s new friend, I believe that there is a great tension in Greece. The Romans have conquered it, but the Greeks don’t want to surrender. Their main reason for their defeat is that the decades of war between the city-states had greatly weakened Greece. Then, the Romans attacked weak armies. Even Sparta’s hoplites had to surrender! Where has gone the times of great war with the large armies? The great phalanx formations! The deadly volley of the skilled archers! The great cavalry charges to break the enemy formation! Where did all these things go to abandon the Greeks? The rage is boiling through their veins, I know it.

Dimitrios, on his side, is a nice guy. He never fought a real war. He said that he can handle a sword but he will not necessarily be able to kill someone with it! He’s not weak, but he’s young and innocent. He still believes that waging a war is going on a white horse and doing marvellous charges that were never broke! He imagined that the cavalry charges were unstoppable, that the arrows and pilums thrown by the enemy would never hit him, that he was protected by the Gods! He reminds me of Gaïus when we met him. He was about XVI-XVII years old. Antigon and my cavalry regiment had slaughtered his inexperienced men. Antigon had the mercy to spare his life and they quickly became friends.

I remember the time when I was a child and that I went fishing with my father. After, my father trained me with wooden short swords. By a sunny day, he told me:

“-Hannit, my son. There will come a time in which the great things that our ancestors built with their hands will crumble. The world keeps evolving, you know? Don’t think that Carthage will always be the master of the seas. Someone, somewhere, will come and find a way to defeat our armies one after another. The glory isn’t permanent. The only thing that the greatest men knew to do was to make their glory survive. Glory is a complex thing! One day, you will see the once glorious things become a spot of dust. Only a few men were able to make their glory survive through time. Think about the Greeks and the Macedonians! Think about Leonidas at Thermopylae, Alexander the Great of Macedon! Think about the ones who impressed everyone! Think about Pericles who gave Athens more power than any city of Greece ever had! One day, you will become a part of History itself. Someone, not necessarily a Carthaginian, will take up the greatest challenge of our time and will succeed! Maybe the young Hannibal Barca will be even greater than our leader Hamilcar!

-But if I am asked to accomplish these great tasks? If someone asks me to follow him to do great things with him? If someone asks me to go to war with him? Do I have to follow him until my or his death?

-You will know by yourself the one in which you can put your loyalty. You will know by yourself if you’re ready to follow him to the ends of the world, like Ptolemy and Alexander the Great! Now, back to your archery training, my son.”

I’ve found this person years ago, when I met Antigon in the trireme. He was a simple peasant, but he quickly became the one who was even greater than Hannibal! If he was born before and was fighting as one of Hannibal’s lieutenants and that he was more experienced at this moment, we could maybe have won the campaign in Italy. It’s too bad that Hannibal preferred to suicide than to be held captive by the Romans. I would have done the same thing, though.”

These personal thoughts from Hannit were hard to say in words, but despite the fact that he wasn’t a proficient writer, he developed well what he thought. His opinion about the Greeks was quite right: A rebellion was about to explode in the Romans’ new province. The Pax Romana wouldn’t last. But this time, Hannit didn’t want to be part of this; he wanted to take care of his own business. But if Antigon wanted to join this war? Hannit saw a strange light in Antigon’s eyes when he announced his crew that they were leaving for Rhodes. Antigon was a Greek, after all. Didn’t he suffer enough during the Punic Wars? Did he really want to die? Did he really want to suffer again?

Weeks after their departure from Athens, Antigon’s crew and Dimitrios reached Rhodes. Phillipos watched with admiration the great Colossus of Rhodes, taller than every statue he ever saw! He knew that Rhodes had great sailors and that Rhodes’ quinquiremes were the best ships of the world! Rhodes’ had a great naval commercial power in all the Mediterranean sea. The crew took some minutes before accosting to look at the huge variety of ships in Rhodes’ port. There were biremes, triremes, fishing boats, Egyptian, Pontic, Seleucid, Roman, Greek (from the Greek colonies still freed from the Roman influence), and many other ships. The diversity of the merchandises brought by the ships coming from all around the known world was amazing! There was of everything! A mix of an exotic style and Greek influence made the Rhodians’ ships unique. Their huge ships were the masters of the seas. The ship accosted, and Dimitrios ran as fast as he could to deliver his “message”.

While, Antigon and his men decided to visit the city to maybe buy some exotic products. Phillipos bought a new sword, a mix of Egyptian and Seleucid sword, we could say. It was curved but a bit straight at the same time. The sword was full of ornaments and strange runes, which pleased a lot Phillipos. Gaïus Grachus bought some ancient texts (with the equivalent of II whole year of salary of a Roman general!) copied by some unknown writers. The Roman happily unrolled the scroll and was joyfully smiling. He looked at the text written in Greek with the title: “Alexander the Great’s Conquest of the Unknown World, thoughts of Ptolemy the First, Pharao of Egypt”. This work had around 300 pages of papyrus and Gaïus was eager to go back to the ship to read it. He felt guilty though… He borrowed Antigon a lot (meaning A LOT A LOT A LOT!) of money to buy these precious documents. Antigon didn’t mind spending money for his friends because he didn’t buy anything. Negative person? No. Reasonable one. How did Antigon and his men get so much money?

During these III years spent in the sea, Roman boats full of goods and treasures coming from Minor Asia were attacked by some kind of pirates. One day, these pirates attacked Antigon’s ship. Unfortunately, they didn’t know that aboard were some of the most skilful soldiers of Carthage. It was a carnage, and the pirates’ leader was taken prisoner. Antigon promised that he’s release the pirate if he showed him his treasures. Finally, Antigon found a huge mountain of gold and precious metals! The pirate was released but later on executed by a Roman patrol. And so rich became Antigon and his men.

Antigon, on his side, was looking in his boats’ barrels. He found the sword he had during Carthage’s last battle, his armour, his large hoplite shield, his red cloak that he had during his escape from Rome’s prisons, and, most important of all, his hoplite helmet. These souvenirs from the times… the times of the Greek Carthaginian… The time when he was a hero! But now, he was just a ship captain… The life could be quite deceiving, sometimes. All the warfare equipment of his men (bows, weapons, arrows, etc.) was hidden in wooden boxes or barrels. He released a tired sigh and watched his men acting like happy children in a magic garden. They acted as if they had never seen anything. He smiled like a father who looks at his son. This smile wasn’t, strangely, a forced smile.

Dimitrios was running through the streets of Rhodes to reach the palace. “I got a message to King Pyrrhus from Antocles of Athens! Let me pass!”

Chapter III

“King Pyrrhus! King Pyrrhus!” yelled Dimitrios, urging in the palace’s stairs. The palace was decorated with an insolent luxury. The marble flagstones on the floor were shining. Some slaves were nervously whispering when they saw the running Dimitrios with his dirty sandals. They’d have to spend even more hours to clean up the floor, shining with an impeccable reflect like a mirror. We could even see our face in this floor. The column built with a Dorian style were high and supported a roof with multiple paintings on it. The paintings were, of course, representations of Heracles the Great, Prometheus, Zeus or other important characters in the Greek mythology and society. The Rhodians gave religion and mythology a great place in their society.

Pyrrhus was Rhodes’ king, which had become a city-state isolated from the rest of the world. The Greek Colonies? Nothing more than some dispersed broken cities in the Ionian Peninsula. The city-states of Greece? Sparta? Athens? Thebes? Corinth? All conquered! Rhodes had a great advantage that the Greeks of Greece didn’t have against the Romans, though: a naval power. Their quinquiremes were the masters of the sea. And, even better, Rhodes was an island that could only be conquered with a naval supremacy. The Romans ships had an advantage over the Carthaginians: they had succeeded to bring their highly trained and skilled infantrymen to fight on the sea.

The naval tactics were useless when a ship had to fight a man-to-man combat on the sea. Sailors weren’t skilled warriors, they were just skilled sailors. But, for the Rhodians, it was quite different. They could easily crush any ship with their huge ships, able to carry 120 men at the same time with the oars. And it could even carry more men from the ground army. This was the “perfect ship”, as the Romans called it. The fleet of Rhodes had defeated many times several attempts of invasion from the Romans and the Egyptians (the Macedonian fleet, I mean. Let’s not forget that the Macedonians of Alexander the Great have conquered Egypt and that it is now under Macedonian control!). Several strong armies sank down with their fleet.

“Rhodes has been inhabited since the Stone Age. In prehistoric time the island was inhabited by Cretans, who where the first settlers on the island, the Phoenicians, (but also an evidence of Mycenaean settlement has been found), and Dorians who must have installed themselves on the island prior to the Trojan War. After the Trojan war the rapid progress and development of the ancient civilization of Rhodes commences, examples of which can be seen nowadays in the antiquities of the three largest and most powerful cities of the island, Lindos, Ialyssos and Kamiros.

Because of its strategic position, (on the crossroads between East and West) Rhodes has been under constant attacks and dominations from early times. At the end of Vth century BC these cities united into a single political force and founded Rhodes, which achieved its acme in the IIIrd century BC. After the naval Battle of Salamis and the defeat of the Persians, the island became part of the Delian League, organisation of which Athens was the leader. During that period, famous artists, philosophers and writers lived here. During CDVIII BC the City states of Rhodes combined and formed the new City of Rhodes. With the reign of Alexander the Great, Rhodes fell under Macedonian domination. After the fall and fragmentation of the Empire of Macedonia, the island of Rhodes fought for its freedom and, after a long siege, triumphed in CCCV BC . It was during this period that the Colossus of Rhodes, one of the Seven Wonders of the World, was constructed and straddled the harbour.

From MM BC it became an ally of Rome and was obliged to have the same friends and enemies as the Romans, but from the 1st century BC it began, slowly but surely, to go into decline.” But, sometimes, the Romans go too far… The Rhodians will maybe get fed up of these treacherous Romans…

Dimitrios was now walking near the throne room of the Lindos’ region palace, sensing a dangerous tension and anger in the room. The Rhodians didn’t seem to appreciate his coming, it seemed. Everyone was whispering, giving suspicious looks at each other. Everyone had this strange look of someone who doesn’t trust anyone, that look that so much people have in difficult times. Pyrrhus was sitting in a golden throne, listening to a Rhodian fleet commander. He seemed to have trouble with his king! The King said:

“-Commander! Why do you want me to produce more ships! Our wood reserves keep diminishing since you asked me to construct the XIth fleet! This fleet had cost us more than every fleet! We’re not at war with anyone yet, Lumakies!
-Don’t you understand, my dear friend Pyrrhus, that we need to keep our supremacy over the sea! The Romans have already conquered the island of Crete with its precious archers! The survivors barely had the time to reach our evacuation fleet! We don’t have enough ships!
-But we are going to run out of money if we build such a fleet! We don’t need that fleet!
-We need it more than you think, my naïve friend! (The King reddened with anger when he heard the word “naïve”, but he knew that he didn’t know as much politics as his friend Lumakies) The Romans want to blockade our ports! They got numerous fleets! We can fight against a nation, but not against a whole Empire! They have ships from Carthage, Rome, Messana, Tarentum, and many other important cities! You cannot understand politics as much as I do, my dear King. And you know it!
-I-will-NOT-build-this-fleet-for-nothing! said between his teeth the tall King Pyrrhus.
-So ends there our discussion, my King. You will find a good reason a day or another to listen to me.”

So ended their discussion. Dimitrios timidly entered with a terrified look on his face. He said “I got a message for King Pyrrhus from Antocles of Athens, great one.” Pyrrhus took the papyrus sheet and unrolled it. He read it. The message seemed to have been hastily written. Either the handwriting was awful or the one who wrote it (Antocles, in fact) was running out of time. Antocles was once a great Greek general, having won renown fighting the Romans before his defeat at Sparta. Then Greece (under Macedonian control, I believe) was already decadent and most of the cities didn’t offer much resistance to the Romans. Heir of an old noble family, a “pure-blood Greek”, he was a great man. The problem in this statement was the “he was a great man”. Now, he was nothing more than a decadent, drinking wine and he probably had difficulties to hold even a short gladius! Pyrrhus read loudly the parchment:

“Your Highness Pyrrhus is requested by the whole population of Greece to provide support for the rebel forces of Greece. Food, ships, weapons, men, precious informations, we need of everything! We need ships and sailors. We are in a dangerous situation, King Pyrrhus. The Romans, led by Marcus Antonius Verus, are suspecting our rebellion. They have gathered an army larger than 30 000 legionaries and 15 000 mercenaries near Athens. They are still waiting for reinforcements though. Verus augmented the taxes and most of the merchants are losing too much money to stay here. Our economy is crumbling! If the rebellion doesn’t succeed, the Romans will not have to face any resistance when they will invade Rhodes. I know that the Romans are your allies, but remember that they kept betraying with the worst treasons to conquer. Rhodes’ turn will come soon if you don’t help us.

Hoping that your Highness King Pyrrhus will answer the call of the Hellenic people,

Antocles of Athens.”


Pyrrhus threw away the document and laughed:

“-I will let you Greeks rot with their rebellion. I will not help people who don’t deserve to be helped. Rhodes is powerful enough to rule the seas. If Antocles thought I would send OUR money, OUR glorious ships, OUR brave soldiers, he was wrong. Rhodes doesn’t need to fight the war of others. We fight OUR wars. Now, leave me.”

Dimitrios, a defeated look painted on his face, left the throne room. He slowly went downstairs and didn’t pay any attention to the beautiful artistic paintings on the walls. He had failed his mission.

Shamefully failed…

Chapter IV

Dimitrios ran back to the trireme. He saw that the crew had bought many things. He decided to reveal what he had to carry to Antigon; maybe he could help him!

“-Mister Antigon?
-Don’t call me mister, Dimitrios… I’m not old yet!
-I wanted to tell you why you brought me there… And by the way I wanted to thank you and your crew to have taken the risk of bringing me to Rhodes.
-Hmm… you are going to tell me why these Romans at Athens were after you?
-Yes. There is a great rebellion in the recent Roman province of Greece. My people are fed up with these Romans! A rebellion will explode soon, but we needed a leader, weapons, and a place where to make secretly a “rebel army”. We’ve found II of these III things. We got a leader, a tall Greek called Ephesostes. Our army regroups itself in the ruined city of Pergamum. I say “ruined city” but I think that you know what I’m talking about?
-Sure! My grandfather died there. The city had been sacked by an army from Pontus. There was a traitor in the Greek’s ranks that opened the doors. It’s a bit like the episode of Troy but without the Trojan horse. The carnage was horrible and all the civilians and the soldiers were killed there. Even worse, they didn’t even bury or burn the bodies… They let the bodies rot in the streets and I bet that these are still there. It’s an abandoned part of the world. It seems that the Seleucids tried to rebuild the city but the streets were stinking too much with the smell of putrefaction. So they abandoned the city. It’s an hostile place, but the perfect place for someone who doesn’t want to be seen.
-So, are we going here?
-Yes, he laconically answered.
-But who will give you weapons, men, and ships to cross the turquoise Aegan sea?
-Ephesostes must, first of all, know that the Rhodians will not give us anything. After we’ll hear his bold plan. He created the rebel army (even if it’s quite weak for now) after all!”

“Everyone aboard, men! Terenas decided to stay with Pyrrhus to try to change his mind. He is a good politician and diplomat though. ”

The sail was shining with it’s orange sun on it, supported by a high mast painted in crimson. The day star was heating and invigorating the men until they were drunk of the sun. A joyful mood had invaded the deck. The oars gently fondled the hot waters. The trireme was heading towards Pergamum. The men admired the Ionian coast with deep interest. Some, like Phillipos, were immortalizing the landscape on sheets of papyrus.

When the sailors arrived to Pergamum, the city was in fact in ruins. The city gate was in a really bad state, the walls were nearly razed, a lonely tower was standing in the middle of what must have been a place of pain, terror and despair. There was indeed a real smell of putrefaction that infected the air, making each air puff of a single breath an unforgettable experience. An unforgettable, meaning an horrible one! The houses were dilapidated and the governmental buildings weren’t in a better state. It seems that the Greeks REALLY fought to death here. But, despite the hot breeze warming up the sailors, there were still Hellenic people living in these ruins: Ephesostes and the beginning of what could become the Army of the Hellenic People. Antigon walked on the broken and unearthed flagstones, and was welcomed by IV guards. They wore bronze armors. The scratches on them showed that they were used second-hand armors. The quality of the rebel’s stock was awful! The guards’ spear peaks were eroded and cracked. Their shield were cracked and a lot of years seemed to have passed since these round shields were polished. “I think that I now know why these rebels need our help, though Antigon.”

Gaïus, on his side, was, as always, looking at what could have been strategic points during the city’s reign. His tactical abilities were unequalled, like his skills with a gladius. The highest point of the city was a lonely tower. Ephesostes and his generals, if they had a bit of intelligence, would have chosen this tower to make their headquarters. The fissures in the tower made Gaïus doubt about the solidity of the tower. Suddenly, someone shook gently his shoulder. It was Dimitrios.

-“Mister Grachus?
-Antigon told you not to call us “mister”! Call us by our real names! You are one of us, by now!
-Really?
-Listen. Antigon spared my life during an ambush while I was on the side of Romans. Then, I was a young desperate man. Since I know Antigon, I can tell you that few had been able to understand what dramatic events he had to endure in his heart. He endured so much sad events that no man in this world should ever have to endure. He lost his family in Syracuse, his homeland, and then Carthage. Carthage was his second home, as told me Phillipos. This man never liked war. He killed because he had to. He wasn’t a warrior. He had the wrong soul in the wrong body. His body allowed him to crush people, his soul was a persevering one. I mean… he never abandoned what he began. He only abandoned one thing: his ancient “himself”. Antigon became a man with an icy glance, a man that rarely made a true smile. He was nothing but the shadow of what he was. He became a remote person. He became a killing-machine. The Romans accomplished their oeuvre: they broke Antigon’s will.
-Antigon has been a sociable in the past?
-Yes. Hannit and Phillipos knew their friend during the good times. I knew him at the peak of the fortunate times. We lived together several adventures. After, I felt that something terrible was about to happen. His home was sacked by the Romans and his destiny was changed. He became the Antigon you know. You know, being an important man promised to a great destiny means that there will always be a price to pay. Antigon paid it, but he has nothing now. It’s some kind of metaphor. But, when he believes that someone deserves his respect, he is the most loyal friend that you can have. Everyone here knows that you have his respect. Or least, he trusts you.”

The discussion ended there and the guards stopped Antigon and his friends. After a long discussion between the ship captain and the IV guards, they led our hero (and his escort, of course!) to the headquarters. Gaïus was right: the lonely tower was the headquarters of Ephesostes. Phillipos, Gaïus, Hannit, Dimitrios and Antigon climbed the stairs and reached the dusty door. A tall and slim man opened the door, and he gave a strange salute with a bit too much curvets and bowed and scraped a bit too much, which meant that it was certainly not a honest salute. They sat on some worn-out stools and a tall tanned (and pretty brawny) man gazed at them with a suspicious look. He said laconically:

“-Dimitrios?
-It’s me, great Ephesostes.
-Any news from Pyrrhus of Rhodes ?
-He said that he wouldn’t send us anything. He said that we’d have to fight our own wars alone.
-The stinking rat! How about the Seleucids?
-Folopes told me that some bandits (they were numerous in this region) killed him (the emissary).”

The Greek general scratched his head, disconcerted. His face was blushing and he had a nervous glance (the one of people who are running out of resources in a tragic situation). He raised up and said:

-“I don’t know who are the IV adventurers at the back of the room, but you saved Dimitrios’ life. I will give you a mission. I want you to go to Antioch to seek help from the Seleucids. The 2500 brave Greek warriors of our proud army will not be enough to beat the Romans! We need more men and a decent equipment. Our spears phalanxes wouldn’t even be able to stop a cavalry charge! The Seleucids were Greeks, after all!
-Hem… They were also Macedonians, general, said Gaïus.
-Your strange accent tells me something… Aren’t you are a Roman!? He’s a spy! GUARDS!
-My name is Gaïus Grachus. And our names are Phillipos, Hannit, and Antigon.
-Antigonos of Sparta?
-No. Antigon of Carthage, said Antigon.”

The general made a quick sign to order his guards to stay away, and the general glared at our Greek Carthaginian.

-“Well, I got one thing to say. It’s good to have worthy allies fighting with us. I hope you will fight with our armies!
-I will, if you have your army though. I will go with my men at Antioch. I will need some horses for my men, though. Take care, commander.”

Antigon talked to Ephesostes like a vulgar officer. Ephesostes was the leader of the rebellion of a whole people, after all!!! But, the general knew that rebels weren’t a nation. Rebels are rebels, nothing more. Neither glorious or famous. Though, he knew that he could trust Antigon, the Greek Carthaginian.


Chapter V

Antigon and his men were now fully dressed with their war equipment. Antigon proudly wore his “Sacred Band” armour, his large round shield, his hoplite helmet with a scratch between the main fissure at the centre. He took his sword, forget by Proeth, Hannit’s father and Carthage’s most famous artisan. His red cloak sparkled in the green plains. Our heroes were now riding through the Phrygian plains to reach Sardis; it took a lot of time to reach Antioch. Time passed and rapidly Antigon lost the count of days. No one could say if they rode for days, weeks, or months. The horizon was endless. The nature revealed itself to the eyes of our adventurers, making them dream about great spaces, freed from the civilization’s influence.

A world without war, pain and suffering… A world without treason and betraying… A world without the men, we could say. Slowly, some villages were seen on their way. The riders rode through the Phrygian green plains and saw the best horses renowned for their beauty and their endurance. The Phrygian horses were famous all around the world. After, the walls of Sardis were seen. Heading East, our riders rode through the desolate mountains of Ionia and Galatia. The dust was risen up by the horses riding through the sand and the hills of dust. The hot sun was making the horsemen roast under their armor.

Indefatigable, the riders rode through the mountains to reach Tarsus. Their goal was now close. Some days after, the shining white walls of Antioch were seen; the pride of the Seleucids was inside these high walls. The horses had ridden too much time to be in a good state. Antigon whispered a little Greek song to his horse, as if he knew that his horse would appreciate his voice. The horses trotted to the main iron gate. The men wondered how the Seleucids could accomplish such architectural exploits. Everyone had heard of Seleucia’s hanging gardens (meaning Babylone’s one. Before, the Babylonians (the most known Babylonian was Nabuchodonosor) had a great cultural development. After Alexander the Great’s victories over the Persians and the Babylonians, the city became under Macedonian control. There was the tomb of Xerxes, a powerful Persian warrior buried there. After Alexander the Great’s death, his generals fought between themselves to gain control over the recently conquered Empire. But, the Empire didn’t last. The generals’ cupidity and thirst for power made the Empire collapse. The most known of these generals was Ptolemy (*note from the author: I like Ptolemy a lot. He was a great strategist and was a cultured man. He paid attention to the writings and was a busy man. His reign over Egypt (which was now under the Macedonians’ control and Ptolemy’s control who was now named Pharao Ptolemy the Ist.) was a flourishing and thriving one. A Macedonian general called Seleucos decided to take control over the territories between Antioch and Babylon (which was renamed Seleucia). This became the Seleucid Empire.) (End of the first parenthesis. Fiuh!). Back on Antioch, now.

The ruler of Antioch was a Seleucid famous general named Demikros Xanathus the IVth . He was an efficient ruler and the people liked him. But, Antigon and his men unfortunately arrived in troubled times. The guards were nearly trembling when they saw the strangers arriving to the city. They didn’t ask for any identification, which eased our adventurers’ progression through the city. Later, Hannit wrote in his personal journal:

“After several months of an infernal ride, we finally saw the walls of Antioch. I’d never think that I’d reach this city. The fall of Carthage seems so far away in the time from now! My father and my family were spared by the Romans and were living serenely in a domus in Sicily. The Romans liked artisans and spared them with their family too. My father was lucky. He deserves all he has now. With all the money he had, he could live a luxurious life. I hope that one day we will stop all these adventures and these wars and that I will be able to see Father soon.

I still remember the white walls shining in the sad landscape. I have a deep respect towards the Seleucids. They maybe aren’t people as proud as the Greeks and as much loved by me as the Carthaginians, but they are people who could develop themselves to the point of creating marvellous monuments. They have huge statues of their Gods and of this Macedonian conqueror called Alexander the Great. I think that I should read more, like Gaïus. I’ve never seen a man who knows so much things about the History of his people, of Carthage, of Greece (I remarked that it particularly interested him), of Persia, of pretty much every civilized people in the known world. He read a lot of texts about Alexander the Great and his conquest to the end of the world , Pericles (he told me that he admired him because he made Athens one of the most beautiful cities in Greece), and many more great men who changed the face of our world.

The gates loudly creaked. I felt a blow of wind pass through my whole body. I saw the huge houses and temples, the mouth widely opened. The Seleucids built magnificent things! There are flowers, exotic trees, paved streets, high walls… There is an atmosphere of dense overconfidence, but it is pleasant. The Seleucids aren’t arrogant yet. The Rhodians should maybe learn this glorious attitude that I call humility and respect. Once, I asked Antigon what would please him the most. He said: “If I could go back in time… If only… my family… my son…” and then he began to cry. It was during the flee from Carthage, after everything was over. But after, he never cried again. He showed himself as hard as a rock. As hard as the elements. I’ve said enough about Antigon though. It’s too bad that I can’t do anything for him… but… if… I could then… and…”

Hannit stopped writing and then took his horse. He rode as fast as he could. No one knew where he went, but Hannit was sure of one thing: he had to accomplish the most important mission of all.


Antigon was talking with Xanathus Demikros IV, descendant of Xanathus Demikros II, alias Troia. People said that he was a great general, but that he had trouble with the Kingdom of Pontus. Adil Emb’ Kalarr, Pontus’ king, was waging a war that lasted too long to be a war like any other. It was a war of attrition. The ancient king of Pontus, Abassil Emb’ Kalarr, had II sons. Adil took the power, while Abdoul, his brother, was rotting in jail. Abdoul had noble blood flowing in his veins, so he had the right to get on the throne. He’d do anything just to see his brother suffer! Adil’s dictatorship and despotism were too much for the people of Pontus to allow. They’d do anything just to stop this war and to let peace rule between the Seleucids and the Kingdom of Pontus. If Adil died, by a way or another, there would be peace between the II nations. Xanathus wanted to send Antigon as an assassin to kill Adil Emb’ Kalarr. If he succeeded his mission, Xanathus would show himself generous to the “peace-bringer”, meaning that he would send I or II of his armies to help the Greek rebels. But, there would be a price to pay. Of course, the Greek rebels had the money! They fled from Athens and the whole Greece with a lot of gold, stolen from the Roman banks.

Antigon accepted, but he wanted to allow his loyal men to rest in Antioch while he accomplishes his mission. Xanathus accepted. The II men shook hands, and Antigon went to see the best blacksmith of Antioch. He tinted Antigon’s sword, shield, armour, etc. in black, tinted his whole war suit in black. Fortunately, everything would fade away with the first rain to reveal the true colors of his equipment. This bold “camouflage” would provide some help for our hero to sneak anywhere without being seen in Sinope, Pontus’ capital. Mounting a fresh horse, Antigon discreetly rode out of Antioch. His new goal: killing Adil Emb’ Kalarr. All of these missions were giving him an headache!

Who knows? Maybe the death of one will change the fate of thousands of soldiers ?


While, Phillipos and Gaïus were looking at Antigon, riding like a shadow through the night. “Where is he going?” asked Gaïus.
-“Oh, some place where we can’t go with him, for sure! answered Phillipos.
-What do you think of that Xanathus Demikros IV?
-Oh… He’s a good guy. I believe that Xanathus and Antigon are going to be fighting along together. They seem to have the same qualities. Maybe Antigon found someone like him, after all! Someone who understands him!
-Don’t believe this too soon… The Seleucids are great people, but they are a nation that was once united and that collapsed. Sometimes, I just look at them and I say to myself: “Why didn’t Alexander just stay home?” After all, there are periods of time where people are bound together by a unique link: their leader. But leaderless, these same people are just people wandering around. I’ve talked with Demikros. He is a proud man, and I’m sure that he’s honest. I’m sure that Antigon will accomplish something that will make him even greater than he was. And Demikros will not forget… I hope he won’t…
-Let’s get to the barracks… I’d like to show you something…
-Okay, let’s move on.”

What Gaïus saw was incredible. There was a huge beast (a pachyderm, an elephant, the Seleucid soldiers said) with a trump. This majestic beast… Hannibal had some! thought Gaïus. Incredible… These people are incredible… Gaïus admired the great beast, making the earth shake with each of its step. The song produced by the rattling of the large mail coat that covered the elephant. This beast was so huge! So strong! So powerful! A Seleucid guard, a large smile drawn on his face, said with an amused tone:

“That beast can crush any formation. Give it a phalanx formation a day and it will trudge everyone in its path. This is the ultimate killing-machine! This beast is a gift from the Gods, guys! We can put VIII archers on the war-tower and this will be quite a challenge for the enemies of Antioch!
-It’s a nice beast, mister… mister… (he hesitated) mister the Seleucid?
-I got a name, you know! My name is Lexionos. Lexion, if you want. Yeah, yeah! I know that it looks like “legion”.
-Lexion… how much of these beast have you got?
-We have XII armoured elephants in Antioch, XX normal elephants too… Hem… I’ve heard that in Seleucia, their elephants got sick, so most of them died. They only have II armoured elephants and IV normal elephants. It’s sad because they had one of the greatest army in the Seleucid Empire. There’s a lot of trouble there, but this city is too far from us. So, we stick to our own business. The Parthians and giving them trouble, it seems. We have trouble with Pontus. Ha! Ha! (he scratched his beard) It’s an attrition war! Each of their army that they send us is getting crushed, and each of our offensives are being repulsed. They got a damned lot of archers! Our phalanxes cannot even break their lines! But, they aren’t better at all! Their infantry and cavalry have the worst soldiers I have ever seen! Each of our men could kill like that (he snapped his fingers) III of their warriors! Though, we are lacking of archers… Bah… I’ll stop to annoy you with our problems. What’s up outside the boundaries?”

So Phillipos, Gaïus and Lexionos began talking during hours. A new friendship was made. He was talkative, but that’s what pleased our II friends. Phillipos was still wondering where Hannit has gone…

Can a war be stopped by the death of a single man? Can a single man a precise man hidden behind his soldiers and his walls? Can a single man succeed an unknown mission for one of his friends?

It depends of which single man we are talking about…


Chapter VI

Antigon rode for months in the dry mountains of Galatia. The sun was getting hotter and hotter by each day. Even worse! His black suit was storing up heat! He felt as if he was going to melt… Fortunately, he was tough and he succeeded, despite the heat, to reach Sinope, the Pontic capital. He waited until the day star was hidden. The sky was dark as the void. The stars didn’t shine, that night. Maybe a sign of the Gods! Antigon threw a grapnel and climbed over the walls. Nobody? Nobody. Good. He ran like a shadow to the nearest guard tower and ran downstairs. He was in the city. Now, he had to find a place where to hide. He sneaked in the streets during the whole night and he finally found his place: There was a bush near a temple. He pushed the leaves and saw that it was a burglar’s hiding place. He killed discreetly the sleeping burglar and placed his body in the middle of the street. It was disgusting, but it would be a good diversion while he accomplishes his “mission”.


Far away from Antioch and Sinope, there were grave matters going on. If we look in Greece, we will see a particular region. If we look at the south, in a province named Laconia, we will find a famous city. This city is Sparta, Athens’ rival since the beginning of times. The Spartans, fed up of the Romans like all the Greeks, decided to start a major revolt. The city rebelled and kicked the weak Romans garrison out of their city. But, the Romans decided to retake the city. A large army of 17 000 legionaries and 5 000 mercenaries was determined and resolute to make the Spartans pay for their act. If there’s one thing that the Romans never forgive, it’s rebellion. The Spartans, led by Armenion (a quite unpopular general, but a quite efficient one) were fighting for their lives on the stone walls of Sparta. Most of the Spartans were equipped with a sword, a bronze armor, and a large round shield. The symbol of Sparta was drawn on each shield. Even if they weren’t as numerous as the Romans, their courage compensated. The Romans had a lot of difficulties to get on the walls (the Spartan archers rarely missed their targets) and even if they brought a siege tower, a ballista took care of sending a flaming projectile to make it crumble. It was a war of annihilation. The Romans didn’t have the intention of conquering the city; they had the intention of making it burn!!!

A young adolescent of XVI years old was fighting on the walls. His armour was covered with blood, as was his sword. He slammed his shield in a Roman’s face and pushed him down the wall. He nimbly swinged his sword to cut another Roman’s head, he took a spear on the ground and thrust it in a mercenary’s chest, but an acute pain in his back made him waver, and fall on the ground. The bricks were stained by the blood of the young teenager. He looked at the sun, and saw nothing after; only the void. The Roman cheered. He had killed a young child that killed his decurion, and IV legionaries of his cohort. In fact, there was no glory in killing a XVI years old warrior, but a Spartan one was as tough as any warrior. The Roman didn’t have time to celebrate his victory… An arrow pierced his armor, making him die in a slow pain. Other Spartans went on the wall to replaced their dead comrades, and the battle continued. The city was besieged during V months since the Roman columns were seen on the hills. Each day, Romans and Spartans were dying. Sparta was holding firmly, and they didn’t lack of food. The Spartans had huge reserves of food.

Day by day, Sparta was weakening. The great city kept losing great warriors. Each day that passed was a step forward the abyss of defeat. The line of soldiers was more and more stretched to protect the wall. The line was thinner and thinner… Now, the Spartans were at the point of defending only the strategic points. The situation was growing dangerous!

“Far away… Far to the other side of the Aegean sea… One day a great army will come to reinforce Sparta the Great and together, both armies will crush the Romans! Hold firm, Spartans!” –Armenion of Sparta


Adil Emb’ Kalarr was sitting on his throne. He had passed what he called a “hard day” today… He ordered to execute an Arab horses merchant. The prices were too high (that’s Adil’s version) so he wanted to give justice to his people. He ordered the guards to kill the merchant and he gave the horses to the people of Pontus in Sinope. A good deal? Not at all! Adil gave III horses (I with a broken leg, and the II others were sick) to a nearby peasant that didn’t even have the money to feed these horses. Adil kept the other horses to put them in his personal stables. He was a greedy man. A man was washing the floor with a humid cloth in the throne room. Adil looked at the sun going down the mountains. “That sun is waving me a good-bye just for me. I am so great that even the sun is mine!” he thought. The sun seemed to wave him good-bye, as if it would be the last time that the sun would have to do it.

The night rapidly came. Adil was sleeping in his bed. His mistresses were sleeping in another room, this night. Adil was loudly breathing. He was sweating a lot. The Gods had sent him a dark vision. Shadows were dancing, singing: “We’re waiting for you! We’re waiting for you!” They didn’t wait for him a lot… An arrow came from the window and a “crack” was heard. In his head was stuck an arrow. There was written on a sheet of papyrus rolled up on the arrow “Traitors die: it’s a rule.”

Antigon, seeing that guards heard the whistle of the arrow and the “crack” in Adil’s bedroom, knew that his arrow hit the right person. The guards yelled “The King is dead! Find the assassin!” Unfortunately, Antigon was already gone. He was now heading for the jails. Abdoul had to be released before he knew that his brother was dead. It would be the only way to make him choose to stop the war with the Seleucids. XX minutes later, having killed XV guards with a throwing knife (his skills allowed him to kill without being seen), Antigon reached Abdoul’s cellar. He saw the man miserably lying down on the floor. He gently said: “Would you like to be freed, Abdoul?
-I’d do anything to get out of there, but my brother will catch me back. I’m still better here far from him and forgotten of him, he answered pitifully.
-If I help you to get on the throne and to kick your brother out of here, will you do anything I want?
-It’s money that you want, eh?
-No. Will you?
-If it’s not money, I’ll do it.
-Stop the war with the Seleucids.
-Only that? I’m peaceful. It’s in my nature !
-And provide weapons and other stuff to the Greek rebels in Pergamum.
-If I don’t have to wage a war against the Seleucids and that they accept peace, there will be no problem. You have my word. It’s a promise.
-Good.”

Antigon took a giant axe on a weapon rack and he hit the metal bars with it. After several blows, Abdoul was free. He thanked Antigon.

-“Thank you, stranger. I will hold my promise. But now, hold yours! My brother is still-
-He’s dead. And you are a legitimate heir. I hope to see you again, King of Pontus.”

Antigon ran in the darkness, knowing that he had succeeded more than a single mission. He succeeded to bring peace. It was the first time that Antigon accomplished an act in the name of Peace. A sweet heat enveloped his heart. He mounted his horse and rode back to Antioch. Months later, Antigon came back and was proud to announced to Xanathus that he had succeeded his mission. A week after, a messenger from Pontus came to propose a ceasefire. Xanathus accepted. Xanathus accepted to send III of his XIV armies in the region of Antioch. These armies were reserved for a large offensive against Pontus, but now they were useless. The armies had a week before the departure for Pergamum. Abdoul held his promise too. He sent weapons and equipment to Pergamum with caravans. He didn’t send men though. He sent wood to build biremes and triremes. He sent spears, sarissas (the pikes of the Macedonian hoplites, which were also used by the Greeks later), shields, bows, arrows, horses from Nicomedia and some of their Phrygian horses.

The Seleucid armies were led by Xanathus Demikros IV himself, Nemios Akapella, and Reos Okles. These armies consisted of phalanx pikemen, archers, some chariots, elephants (there would be some special ships to transport them through the Aegean sea, so there had to be few of them), some cataphracts, mercenaries, Companions (they will be assigned to Xanathus’ personal guard of CXX cavalrymen) and heavy armoured cavalrymen. This consisted of a strength of 12 000 men. This was a major help for the Greek rebels’ cause. Antigon still didn’t know where Hannit has gone, but it didn’t matter a lot. Maybe he just found a place to live peaceful days… Antigon mounted his horse, accompanied of his sailors, Phillipos, Gaïus and Xanathus Demikros IV himself. The III armies formed up III looooong stretched up columns. Xanathus ordered:

-“Seleucids! Onwards to Pergamum! I want a regular pace! Discipline! Courage! Come on, men ! ONWARDS TO PERGAMUM!”

The noise of thousands of men walking at the same time made the ground tremble. The Seleucids are marching to war! Beware, Romans!




Chapter VII

Personal journal of Gaïus Grachus

“So much things have happened since the Seleucid III columns (meaning the armies) arrived to Pergamum. I am under the orders of Nemios Akapella, a Seleucid general. I still remember the plan that Ephesostes, Xanathus Demikros (IV), and Antigon made up their plan for the freeing of Greece. Here is what I remember of it.

“Antigon will lead the 6500 Greek rebels (reinforcements from Greece arrived) with Ephesostes to the Piraeus (main harbour of Athens). By the way, Terenas succeeded to convince the Rhodian King Pyrrhus to support our rebellion. I don’t know how, but it doesn’t matter though. The great Rhodian quinquiremes (with the squadrons of Rhodian soldiers) will help Ephesostes to retake the harbour and the city from the Romans. Antigon passed me a plan.

Pyraeus Port in Athens, written in English.
http://www.imagedump.com/index.cgi?pick=get&tp=275479
Pyraeus Port in Athens, but written in Greek, this time.
http://www.imagedump.com/index.cgi?pick=get&tp=275477

While, the army under Patrocles Kerilos’ (a Greek general) command will attack by Phaleron, crossing the wall to take the Romans stuck in the Piraeus by behind. Ephesostes’ troops, if they succeed to breach the Roman lines in the Piraeus, will have to fight a dangerous battle between the Northern and Southern walls, a direct access to the Acropolis. If the Akropolis is taken, this important strategic position will be quite useful. Spies from our armies reported that the Romans received reinforcements from Rome. They outnumber our men to III to II. That’s the first part of our plan.

While, Xanathus Demikros and Reos Okles, both Seleucid generals, will attempt to break the siege at Sparta, landing on Greece by the shores near Sparta. Spies from Sparta told us that Sparta’s port was blockaded by the Romans. We have heard that Corinth was held by friendly Romans that wanted to join our rebellion. Though, they were still fighting between themselves with Romans loyal to Rome to know who would take control of the city. My army, under Nemios Akapella’s command, would come to reinforce the Roman rebels and hold off the Roman reinforcements while our other forces attacks. But, we would have to land with Xanathus and Reos to reach Corinth as fast as possible. If we don’t succeed (meaning that we are not fast enough to reach Corinth before the Romans loyal to Rome take control over the city), all of this operation will have been created for nothing. The Romans will send reinforcements to Sparta and to Athens, and soon or later, our troops would fail us. This plan could work… It is a question of timing.

I still wonder where Hannit has gone…”

Gaïus stopped scribbling. “Prepare for the landing!” was heard as men repeated it to make the message circulate through the fleet.

The great royal quinquireme called “The Oath” was sailing to the Pyraeus. Here is what the ship’s name carved up in the wood looks like: http://www.imagedump.com/index.cgi?pick=get&tp=275511 It's "The Oath" written in ancient Greek, the symbol of Pyrrhus' royal quinquireme and Rhodes' supremacy over the Aegean sea. The mast was high and the sail was shining. The Rhodian fleet was a great help for the Greek rebels, indeed. Terenas, behind Pyrrhus, was looking at the Pyraeus. Pyrrhus and him had developed an indefectible friendship. Terenas had diplomatic skills, but he also knew who to trust and who to be careful of.

The waves of the sea unleashed themselves on the Rhodian ships, breaking each of the waves’ assault. The dangerous rolling of the ships made the Greeks’ passion of the sea take the control of their mind and of their body. They were rowing fanatically with all their strength to reach the harbour as soon as possible. And then, the white walls of Athens were seen. The harbour was defended with a thick wall of wood: Roman galleys. Antigon began to harangue the troops. “GREEKS! RHODIANS ! LOVERS OF THE SEA ! I CALL UPON YOU TO ROW WITH ALL YOUR MIGHT! THIS WALL OF SHIPS CANNOT STOP US! ROW! ROW! » The sea became even more furious, but the shock between the Greek might and the Roman discipline was terrible. “WEAR YOUR ARMOURS! WIELD YOUR WEAPONS! LET’S KICK THESE ROMANS OUT OF THEIR FANCY FLEET!” Antigon took up his helmet and wore it. Same thing with his armor, his shield and the rest of his equipment. His men made the same thing. We could see on the deck the last preparations for the imminent assault.

The Rhodian quinquiremes crushed the wall and the sea swallowed some Roman galleys up. The Greek yelled war chants and assaulted the first the Roman galleys. The combat wasn’t over though. The Romans reached the Greek ships with the rest of their fleet and assaulted the sailors too. This was the weakest link of the Greek triremes and quinquiremes: the sailors had to row themselves, while the Roman soldiers could assault a ship while their slaves were rowing. Antigon and Ephesostes, on the same ship, fought for their lives. Antigon drew his blade and began slashing the attackers. He kicked a Roman officer in the belly, making him fall of the ship. Even if that officer knew how to swim, the weight of his armour would have make him sink.

Antigon entered in a fury that made himself remember the ancient times… The times when he fought the Romans at Massilia, the stress he had to endure at the battle of Carthage (the famous cavalry charge he led crushed formations over formations until Antigon reached a wall of Roman pikemen)… Action! At last! His sword flew in the air before it fell down on the human flesh or on the hard but merciless iron armors. Ephesostes, on his side, preferred to make his opponents fall back instead of pushing them back to their sinking ships. The Greek Carthaginian preferred to attack. “The best defence is the attack.” He slaughtered every legionary he saw that blocked his way. He was a real killing-machine. Phillipos, on his side, was fighting with a style worthy of Ajax, the King of Salamis during the siege of Troy. (note from the author)à He was a great Achaean leader and his mighty axe made the best Trojan soldiers waver, and run in fear. He said: "I am newly aware that an enemy is to be hated only as far as suits one who will in turn become a friend. Similarly to a friend I would wish to give only so much help and service as suits him who will not forever remain friendly." [Ajax I. Sophocles, Ajax 680]. (end of the author’s note)

Phillipos was firmly wielding a large double-handed axe. A strong Roman was trying to use this bold but inefficient tactic: striking rapidly to kill an opponent that attacks slowly. The Roman shield was ripped and a second later the Roman’s chest was crushed by the axe’s blade. The Greeks defended themselves with the strength of despair. The Romans were repulsed and the remaining survivors of the fleet succeeded to reach the harbour. There were still remaining galleys, firing heavy rocks and boulders. A quinquireme was sinking… It was a sad sight. A wonder of innovation and technology mixed in a single ship… The men always destroyed, whether they wanted it or not, what they built with their own hands… The world is fleeting. Nothing last forever. “Nothing gold can stay.” (Poem from Robert Frost).

If we look a bit farther, we can see the combat raging near the docks, on the galleys. Antigon’s quinquireme was about to land, but a huge boulder crashed on the deck. Wooden pieces, planks, fragments flew. A wooden bit brutally hit Antigon to the chest. The piece of wood was stuck in his armour. Though, he didn’t care about it. He yelled “FORWARD, “POPULUS GRAECUS”! FOLLOW THE POENI GRAECUS!” in latin to make his men realize that the Romans were close! Their vengeance so eagerly awaited could begin!

The men disembarked and charged into the Roman cohorts. Blinded by the thirst for violence, nothing could stop the Greeks. The faces of gods, monsters, or demons painted on their shield looked like angels compared to the Greek warriors. “FORWARD TO THE WALLS! PUSH THEM BACK!” Antigon saw the carnage going on near him. He began to feel less invulnerable… He began to wonder where Patrocles was… The Romans kept bringing reinforcements from Athens and the Greeks’ frenzy was beginning to cool down. Antigon, with a great courage and strength, rallied his sailors and broke a formation of Triarii veterans. Antigon threw a dagger that he found on the soil through the centurion’s throat before he gave the order to tighten up the formation. Antigon and his soldiers fought with all their might and succeeded to reach the Roman barracks in the port. There were few Romans there, but more weapons were always useful. The slaughter went on until Antigon yelled “Where is Patrocles!?! We will reach the walls to Athens before he helps us!” Finally, Patrocles showed up with his heavily armoured hoplites. The Romans fell back, opening the way to the Greeks. The first part of Athens’ assault went well, after all.

Antigon didn’t meet a lot of resistance on the Northern and Southern walls until they reached Athens’ gate. Roman archers were posted on guard towers and their volleys were deadly. Ephesostes led an ineffective assault on the gate’s bastion. He lost nearly the quarter of his hoplites! Antigon had been a bit more rational. He lost I man out of X, and Patrocles lost about the third of his elite troops. A report from Patrocles Kerilos revealed that the Romans had heavily defended Phaleron, to Antigon’s disappointment. “BRING UP THE RAMS! WE GOT TO RAM THAT DOOR! KEEP RAMMING, SOLDIERS!”

“PULL………………….! THRUST!!! PULL………….. THRUST !!!” The door was breached. The Romans pushed on the other side of the door to block the access. Antigon thought: “If it continues like that, half of these men will never see their family again…”

Columns of smoke were rising in the sky from the Piraeus, Athens’ great port. It was now under Greek control. But, near it, a lone bireme was sailing to the ruined harbour. Hannit was arriving.

Hannit stopped gazing at the port. “There’s a lot of action out there… he said.”
-“When will you present me my father?
-If he is still alive, you will meet him. You will see your father, kid. I’ve been quite lucky to find you there in my fathers’ gardens!
-Mr. Proeth is a good man.
-(Hannit laughed) Yeah, yeah… My father’s a good man. You are a good guy too, Ekerios.”

The V years old child was eager to see his father. Hannit continued.

“I’m glad that you could escape from Syracuse before it burned.
-My mother told me to run! I had no choice, mister! Sometimes I think about my mother before she died… When I lost her, I cried a lot. A lot. I hope I will not live to see my father’s death.
-Your father will be all right. Antigon is always alive no matter what.”

The little kid giggled. Who could have known that the Gods granted the survival of the son of someone who lost everything… Everyone… In the ruins of the battlefield, Antigon met his son, Ekerios. A ray of light crossed the grey clouds and illuminated the Greek Carthaginian. Hannit had found the Greek Carthaginian’s son. And, for a minute, the Greek Carthaginian became Antigon of Syracuse… Antigon the simple man. The Antigon who never liked war…

“Dad?
-My… my… my so-… E…kerios?
-Dad!”

The distinct sound of laughs of joy made the Greeks stop the gate’s assault. The Romans stopped firing their arrows for a minute to observe the strange scene… Everyone, the Greeks like the Romans, looked at Antigon and everybody knew that today, this man was the happiest man in the world. The battle started again, but the Greeks had a new flame in their eyes; they fought for their leader to live this a joy like this one for at least one time in their mortal life.



Chapter VIII

“FORWARD, MY BROTHERS! FORWARD!” yelled Xanathus Demikros. The Seleucids were advancing through the fields. The frail walls of Sparta were seen on the horizon, but a cloud of Romans blocked the city. “IN FORMATION! PHALAAANX---SPEARS!” Xanathus Demikros IV was leading the right flank, while Reos Okles led the left flank of the army. The regular steps of the Phalangites produced a distinct sound. The Romans didn’t blink. Their army was twice as big as the Seleucids’ one. Rains of arrows fell in the Phalangites’ ranks. Some men fell down, their eyes closed forever. “DO NOT SPLIT THE LINE!” ordered general Reos. This time, rocks fell in the Seleucids’ ranks. The Seleucid archers answered back by releasing a deadly volley in the Roman ranks. The legionaries formed up testudo formations. For them, arrows wasn’t a threat anymore. They knew perfectly how to counter them. The battle seemed lost from the beginning for the Seleucids as the Phalangites reached the Roman line.

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While, Nemios Akapella and his army was running to Corinth. They had landed too far from the main army. Gaïus was hurrying himself. The men ran with a regular pace, but their heavy armours didn’t help them. Finally, the Seleucids slowed down the pace, so the column wouldn’t be too stretched and the weaker soldiers could back up with the stronger ones. After hours of march, the Seleucids reached Corinth. The streets were filled up with dead bodies… Finally, Gaïus saw that there were still Romans in the city. The rebels… Fiuh! They weren’t too late! The rebels had set up barricades and obstacles in the port. The Romans were about to land in the docks when the Seleucids reinforcements arrived. A furious fight for dominance then began.

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The Spartans saw the arriving Seleucid army. They had to make a counter-attack at the right time if they wanted the Roman line to break. If they launched the attack too soon, their whole army would be rapidly defeated. If they attacked at the right rime, they could maybe help the Seleucids to reach them. The plan was hastily made up… Armenion, the Spartan general, rallied his troops at the gate. Some men were leaved on the wall to make the Romans believe that the besieged ones were just looking at the battle above their walls. MC Spartan warriors were ready to charge at any time.

On the battlefield, the situation had gotten worse! The Phalangites suffered heavy casualties from the archers, and the Roman catapults were turned against them! The line thinned and thinned… It was dangerously thin… It could break at any moment. When the Seleucids reached the Roman cohorts, III quarters of their troops were still able to fight. The Phalanx tactic worked well… But flanking would be quite easy for the Romans to do. The battle continued during XV minutes. “THE LEFT FLANK! BRING SUPPORT TO THE LEFT FLANK! WE’RE GOING TO LOSE THE LEFT!” yelled Reos. The spearmen were fighting for their lives with the strength of despair, because there was really nothing more to do. The battle was lost for the Seleucids. They weren’t flanked yet, but their Phalanx was now ineffective. Their regiments fell back to a great hill ahead of Sparta. Falling back in a slow but effective way, the remaining Seleucids reached the hill. The Romans didn’t bother about flanking, now. Though, Xanathus was smiling. Did the Romans really believe that he would give up so easily? In fact, Xanathus had kept most of his archers in reserve. He also had some onagers, and most important of all: Companion cavalry and XX armoured elephants! The other XXX normal elephants were left behind in reserve. He wouldn’t need them. Before the battle started, Xanathus sent a pigeon to Armenion to tell him about his bold plan. The Romans, too happy that they repulsed their enemy, charged at the remaining Phalangites in a disordered formation. Arrows fell in their ranks, but they didn’t bother anymore. Suddenly, a huge cloud of arrows fell in their ranks. Several legionaries had just realized in what trap they had put both feet in. They had abandoned their siege camp… Only D legionaries and CC mercenaries were guarding it! If the Spartans attacked… they…

But too late! The Spartans roared, charging out of their city to the besiegers’ camp. The Spartan warriors made short work of the mercenaries, but had a more difficult combat against the highly tamed… hem… trained legionaries. While, Xanathus had charged in the compact mass of flesh that the Roman army had become with his Companion riders. The left flank of the Roman army was spread up disorderly, as many quick charges broke their cohorts attempting to be regroup themselves. Divide to have a better reign. On the left side, the Roman army was in ripped to ribbons by the armoured elephants. The center of the Roman formation held firm though. The hardened veterans had the intention to fight to death. The Spartan arrived as reinforcements to the Seleucids and, with a fast manoeuvre, the besiegers became the besieged. The remaining Romans were surrounded by a thick wall of pikes. Of the 17 000 legionaries and 5 000 mercenaries, there was nothing more than 4 000 legionaries and DC mercenaries left. Half of the legionaries were wounded. MM legionaries weren’t enough to fight for Rome against a wall of pikes. Luckily for them, Xanathus accepted to spare them. They just put them in jail; after the conflict, they would be released.

The Spartans cheered, as the triumphant Seleucids entered through the devastated city. But, Another legion appeared from the North. And another one! Xanathus looked nervously at the horizon… “Corinth… Nemios, my friend… You have failed… FAILED! I HOPE YOU HEAR ME FROM YOUR TOMB! YOU HAVE FAILED!” Xanathus was red with anger and blue with fear… So his face had gone violet. He was about to give everything up, but he pulled himself together. “FORM UP! FORM UP! GET TO THE ROMANS’ ANCIENT POSITIONS! he yelled. REOS OKLES! TAKE THE RIGHT FLANK! ARMENION, THE CENTER! I’LL TAKE THE LEFT FLANK! FORM UP, EVERYONE! IT IS TIME TO DELIVER A BATTLE THAT THESE FANCY ROMANS WON’T FORGET! THEY NEED A REAL CHALLENGE! WE ARE THIS CHALLENGE! TAKE YOUR BOWS AND SPEARS BACK! LEAVE YOUR DEAD COMPANION WHERE HE IS! TAKE THE BESIEGERS’ POSITIONS! LET’S GO!”

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Though, Corinth didn’t fail yet. Gaïus Grachus, leading his Roman brothers to counter a Roman attack, fell on the ground. A Roman stabbed him, but he died a few moments after. Gaïus got up, and took a double-handed broadsword from the ground. Strange weapons can be found on the battlefield, sometimes. He hit a Roman on his plated armour, but the shock was too much for Gaïus to handle. He dropped his weapon. He punched the Roman on the nose, stole his gladius and thrust it directly in his forehead. Blood evicted from his forehead. Sad sight…

The Romans had taken the Eastern part of Corinth’s port (Corinth was under the Roman rebels control), while the Seleucids and the Romans fought (with the help of some Greek rebels that joined him, about DCCC soldiers) for their lives in dangerous street combats in the Western part of the port. Nemios couldn’t strategically defend at the same time both Eastern and Western parts with the number of men he had. He held at least half of the Roman army that was stuck in the port. The Eastern part of the port was blocked by burned ships (the Roman rebels’ ballistas made them burn to block further ships from bringing more legions in the Eastern part of the Port. The Romans passed by near Corinth but they thought that the Romans on the walls waving good-bye to them were normal Romans (they didn’t know that they were rebels.). The II legions arrived to Sparta and saw with disappointment that the army that they were supposed to reinforce was in fact annihilated.

After V hours of an infernal combat, Gaïus and Nemios succeeded to re-take the whole port. They suffered heavy casualties though. They burned the last Roman galleys, as the Roman reinforcements stopped arriving. The port was now totally blocked. Then, Nemios Akapella and the Roman rebels (by the way, their leader Gnaeus Lumpus had died during the battle, so his lieutenant Agrippa Cornelius Magnus took command of the Roman rebels) marched to Sparta to end their job: to finish off the Roman that slipped out of the port. Meaning? They’re going to go help Sparta to hold! The army marched rapidly through the Greek lands to reach Corinth. There, some rebels joined them, and the column of men saw the battle raging. “FORM UP! THERE’S WORK TO BE DONE, MEN!” said Nemios.

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In Athens, the gate had crumbled. The Greek hoplites had succeeded to take the gate bastion with a lot of difficulty. Ekerios, Antigon’s son, was now hidden in the Rhodian quinquiremes, waiting for the end of combats. Antigon was now fighting with a renewed vigour. He had energy to spend as if he always had energy in reserve. The Romans were fighting in the streets. The greatest challenge of the Greek rebels was to defeat the great triarii regiment that repulsed VII times Patrocles and his heavy armoured hoplites. A Roman silver eagle was taken from the enemy, and the Greeks showed it proudly to the Athenians. The Greeks were advancing, but were brutally stopped. The Akropolis… The Pantheon of the Gods… The jewel of Attica… The marvellous and mysterious Akropolis… The symbol of each living Greek warrior. The Romans had massively regrouped themselves in the Akropolis, the greatest challenge for the Greek rebels… Antigon and Ephesostes didn’t want to use any siege weapons against it. It was a sacred symbol of the Gods! Destroying a temple would be like betraying the Gods themselves! Enough betrayal!

Antigon readied himself for the greatest challenge of his life: Facing MMD Roman veterans in the Parthenon. Assaulting the Akropolis itself!

The Hoplites formed up, for the last time, a solid phalanx formation. Antigon, eager to kill some elite warriors, ordered calmly. “For a last time, soldiers of Greece, I ask you to move forward. DO NOT STOP UNTIL THEY ARE ALL DEAD!”

The men cheered with a sadist laugh, and they advanced. The sun shined on the hoplites’ shields. The same round shields that their ancestors, centuries before, used against the Trojans, the Persians, the Macedonians, and many other people of the world. The ancient shield wall advanced, fearing nothing. The wall of shield was brave enough to accomplish this last task: Conquering the unconquered Conquerors.


Chapter IX
-The final battle for Sparta-


What had become the Seleucids’ greatest strength was now turned against themselves… Near Sparta, Xanathus Demikros IV, Armenios and Reos Okles, leading their Seleucid and Spartan soldiers, despairingly tried to hold the Roman reinforcements. Their phalanx formation was useful, but a terrible weapon came with the Romans. The Romans used pitch (historic) against the armoured elephants. They aimed for the eyes as it was the elephant’s weak point. Lexionos, a Seleucid soldier who fought and survived the battle at Sparta wrote later:

“I was with the Vth regiment of Phalangites. I was fought this terrible battle. I was on the left flank. Our wall of pikes seemed to be as hard as the walls of Troy itself. The Romans advanced with their unnerving disciplined beat. My captain was at my right,
holding a banner of the Seleucid Empire. He barked us orders, but we didn’t listen to him at all. Our attention was focused on “holding the phalanx”. These Romans knew how to fight, but their strategies were useless against a solid phalanx formation. But, the unbelievable then happened. As the Romans advanced, Reos Okles, one of our generals, gave the order to send our elephants. Certain of an easy victory with his huge advantages, he sent them hastily in the Roman cohorts. For a moment, I saw the elephants stomping, killing, ravaging everything in their path. A deep passion arose from me, knowing that these elephants represented what we, the Seleucids, had succeeded: taming these gigantic beasts. But, a taming has its limits. I don’t know what the Romans have done, but the elephants ran amok! I saw the Romans fighting with my regiment running away and I thought that the victory was ours. But, I saw why they ran away. The elephants had become crazy! A huge shadow appeared on our regiment, and I saw one of these once majestic beasts charging in our regiment. The shock was terrible! I saw my captain and a bunch of men from the other regiment on my right screaming before their body disappeared under the legs of this armoured demon! I was lucky, I could avoid the legs.

Finally, the battle became a real hell! The Romans charged on us, while we charged on them (it was now a man-to-man combat) as the elephants charged on both of ours armies. It became a free-for-all battle! I saw Xanathus ride through the chaos of battle, riding through clouds of dust. I saw his Companions regiment, killing slaughtering Romans trying to take down an elephant with their ridiculous triarii. Our archers have been given the order to fire on the beasts’ legs, but all of this was useless: their armours were quite thick –meaning that an arrow could rarely make its way to the flesh. Some skilled archers aimed for the head, but it seemed to increase their fury! I now drew up my sword. I was one of the few soldiers who was able to find a long sword on the battlefield. These weapons were precious to my eyes. Maybe these weapons belonged to some rich centurions or roman officers? These weapons were definitely better than the little gladius that we were given as a standard soldier in the Seleucid army. I found a wooden shield, (probably from a dead mercenary) and I began fighting to stay alive. I saw an elephant going straight into a wall of pikemen, and I saw the men wildly thrusting their sarissas (their long spears) in the flesh.

This company barely had the time to celebrate its victory over the beast, as Romans charged at them and as the beast got on its legs and released a terrifying sound from its trump. I saw the Phalangite captain throwing a javelin at a Roman rider with dexterity. The rider screamed as his body was thrown backwards. His horse continued riding, whining like a lost horse in a dangerous and dark forest. The battle scene became hidden by a large cloud of dust. I saw a legionary running at me. I faced him, but I saw that he didn’t have his weapon. He knocked over me and kept running away. I saw Xanathus and his companions hunting down Romans equites through the battlefield. Then, the image disappeared, replaced by around a hundred Roman equites charging at me. I ran away, but I saw a regiment forming up a phalanx. Many soldiers and I joined up and we successfully drove them back. They lost at least half of their riders, but a mad elephant crushed the remaining riders. I saw fear in their eyes, as I knew that most of the soldiers who fought here could run away at any moment. Then, I saw the impossible happening right in front of my eyes.

Armenion and his Spartan hoplites were savagely thrusting their spears through an elephant’s leg. I saw some men hitting their swords on the armour, and I saw some pieces being detached from it. Spears went through the flesh, as blood flew in the air polluted by all this dust! The air had become impossible to breath without coughing! The pachyderm was exhausted, so he fell down on the ground. A huge “CRASH” made the ground shake under the weight of the beast. Then, I realized what was all around me. The chaos of battle… I widely opened my eyes, realizing…

Men were agonizing, buried in the dust. Shields were splinted, spears have been shaken, swords have been broken, armours had been ripped in ribbons like vulgar pieces of cloth… Horses from equites and Companions were dying, giving a last whinnying before they closed their eyes forever. Elephants were still roaring with all their might, unaware of what was going on. The red cloaks’ brilliance of the Spartan soldiers was now lost in the grey-brown colour of the diverse uniforms. The Seleucids, the Spartans and the Romans were lost in a battle for extermination. Strategy was the farthest subject from the Seleucid and Roman generals’ mind. It was either “kill” or “be killed”. The Spartans were tough and strong warriors, unequalled both in valour and in courage. Their rough training made the other weaker peoples envy their grace and their discipline. But, the Spartan true warriors were now rare. In this battle, the Spartan warriors could be the last Spartan true soldiers of the world. It gave them a reason to stand firm and strong. After II hours of a bloody and exhausting combat, I saw new soldiers that I have never seen before in our army… New Seleucids? Then I heard:

“FORWARD TO OUR LORD XANATHUS DEMIKROS! CHAAAARGE!!!”

Nemios Akapella and the Roman rebels (led by Agrippa Cornelius Magnus, the lieutenant of the ancient Roman general) had brought reinforcements from Corinth! I couldn’t believe it! Later, I heard that the Roman reinforcements were in fact a strategic mistake from Nemios Akapella. The Seleucids at Corinth didn’t, like we thought, lose the battle! I heard the rumble of fresh horses… I heard the steps of the armoured Phalangites! I heard the jangle of the sarissas being shook together! The fraternity between the soldiers of each regiment of Phalangites! This friendly competition that every regiment always did to preserve its honour! The excitation of the man going to war replacing the fear of the despaired soldier! Ah! War! The old traditions of our Seleucid warfare! I could feel it! At last! Since the beginning, we have fought outnumbered. But now, by a way or another, if we could get out of this massacre, we could outnumber our enemies! For the first time of this war, the attackers outnumbered the defenders!!!

The survivors of the reduced armies of Armenion the Spartan, Reos Okles, and Xanathus Demikros IV reached a rally point. The message circulated through all the battlefield, and we fell back. We fell back to the East. The Romans who had lost the notion of time, thought that we were falling back. But, most of the elephants were still running wild in the Roman army! Through the dust, the Romans didn’t see the thousands of shadows regrouping themselves at the east! The Romans were left alone against the elephants. While, we reformed our ranks. With Nemios Akapella’s army, we made rapidly formed up a solid formation. The Roman rebels had weapons that I had never seen yet in my young life: ballistas and scorpions. They mounted these siege engines and loaded them with laaaarge spears. A wind from the south pushed the dust northwards. The Romans, astonished that all the dust was gone, looked at us. The elephants rapidly fell with the precision and power of our new siege engines! The elephants fell each one after the other. The Romans hastily formed up their ranks as our siege engines aimed at what remained of their army. I saw that their army had less luck than ours! We could repulse the elephants (meaning that we had a minimum of chances to survive one of their attacks) while the Romans were lacking of spearmen.

We (the Phalangites) advanced. The wall of spears approached nearer and nearer from the Roman legionaries. Hesitant, the legionaries marched to meet the Seleucids. But, the exhausted Romans didn’t have anymore strength against the fresh troops of the Seleucid reinforcements. The formation broke, and a Roman centurion met my regiment with a white banner. The centurion told me that his general had been crushed by an elephant and that his friends wanted to live. I could see with my friends that he suffered like us, and that he was a soldier, fighting for what he thought was an ideal world and united nation. His face was stained with black blood and I knew, deep in my heart, that he fought bravely. I felt mercy. One of my brethrens, Eunas, advanced with his sword, ready to chop his head. The Roman closed his eyes, but I told Eunas to stop his move. He stopped, and Xanathus advanced. He looked like one of these heroes during the Median wars.

The Romans threw their weapons down. There were MC legionaries left who were later taken as prisoners. The remains of our army consisted of DLIII Spartans, and a third of the main II armies (Xanathus and Reos’ ones) plus V men out of VI of Nemios’ army. I’ve met Gaïus Grachus, that nice guy that I’ve seen in Antioch. He had survived this dangerous battle too! I was happy to see that he was still in one piece! Now, the war at Sparta is over. But, a few hours after our victory, a message came from Antioch. The Parthians are attacking out city Antioch! Seleucia fell a week before our departure for Greece. I must now go back to Antioch to defend our capital and retake Seleucia! I am now in one of our ships sailing to Tarsus. Gaïus Grachus was given a horse and he was now riding to Athens.

I am sorry, like every Seleucid soldier in our armies, to go back to Antioch without helping more than that the Greeks’ cause. After all, we fought the war of someone else! Greece will hopefully be retaken without any great conflicts, as the rebels’ armies have been seriously reduced. The Spartans were grateful though that we freed their city. Now, looking at the Aegean sea, I am writing the last page of this personal journal, on this day of the year CXLIII. Exactly III years, X months, and a week, day for day, after the fall of Carthage.”

While, in Athens, the Greek rebels were making the last preparations for their assault on the Akropolis. The sky had darkened and the crows came even more numerous to prepare for the feast. Cadavers were scattered in the whole city and rotting… And, what had to happen happened. Antigon took his sword, adjusted his helmet and slammed his sword on his hoplite shield. He then began to harangue his troops.

“SOLDIERS OF GREECE…”

…

Chapter X
-The fate of Athens and the Sworn Brothers-

Gaïus Grachus had arrived to Athens. What had happened there during the battle at Sparta? His horse trotted slowly with a pitiful expression. The once great city of Athens wasn’t in a great state… Pericles would be red with shame if he had to look at his great city! The Western gate of Athens was nothing more than a buckled piece of metal. The guard tower was half-destroyed… its white stones old and cracked…Soldiers from both camps (Romans and Greeks) were lying down in horrible twisted ways, as if their vertebral column was broken at several points. Gaïus scowled his face and grimaced with disgust. The combats have been even more violent than at Sparta! The ex-Roman soldier decided to continue his path on foot. After all, his horse rode for hours and hours! In the plan of the Greek generals, the Seleucids would attack a day before Athens’ assault by the Greek rebels. He hoped that the combats weren’t over yet. Yet, he didn’t hear a single noise… Strange ambiance for the retaking of a city! He reached the Roman garrison sector. He saw a golden staff that had probably once been adorned with a golden eagle. The legionaries who fought there seemed to know that the Greeks wouldn’t give them any chance. Every legionary who died here had a violent death… But, several Greeks’ corpses were in the streets too, probably pierced by arrows.

The legionaries seemed to fight with the rage of the tireless… the rage of the hopeless… the rage of the uncommon divine strength. Gaïus felt some remorse to see what could have become his brothers-of-arms, or his friends! But, the destiny seemed to think otherwise. He became the friend of a man who deserved to be loved with a virile fraternity. This fraternity that the barbarians seem to have between themselves… When the barbarians attacked Gaïus and his friends during the campaign of Transalpine and Cisalpine Gaul (before he met Antigon, a year before), he saw that the barbarians, even if they were lacking of discipline, were bound together by something that the Romans seemed to be devoided of. Each tribe had a different identification, each tribe was unique! Each of the tribesmen occupied a single role in the tribe, and each of these roles together created this feeling that your friends are always near you. Even if they were undisciplined, that’s what made the strength of the barbarians. Fraternity.

Gaïus was moved away from his thoughts when he heard a grating. A wooden door fell down. A Roman legionary was staggering, trying to find a save place outside. A knife was stuck in his armor. The legionary had the time to say “Pax! Pax!” to Gaïus before he abandoned his struggle with death. Gaïus decided to leave the body where it was… All of this transformed the Gaïus that we know now so well into a depressive man. He then decided to a higher point to see what was going on in the city. He used a wooden footbridge to reach a ruined passage that led to a temple. He could read really well ancient Greek, so he read on a marble plate: “Welcome to the jewel of Greece, traveller.” He sighed and gave a sarcastic laugh that became a long moan. “Thank you.” he thought. The jewel of Greece had lost a bit of its valour now… He crossed the steps and reached the stairs inside. The stairs weren’t really high, but they had pretty much the width of the temple. Strangely, this temple wasn’t even damaged. The Romans seemed to have the same respect of the Gods that the Greeks have. The Romans and the Greeks weren’t really different in nature… The Greeks remember of the popular accounts and of the oaths of vengeance of their ancestors… Gaïus read about Miltiades and the Athenians at Marathon, Themistocles at Salamis, Aristagoras at Miletus (a less pleasant episode of the Greek Ionian colonies), Leonidas and his Spartans at Thermopylaes… Signs of courage and determination that made the Hellenic world see the light of the glorious days. “These days that made the History of our world, these days full of controversy that changed the face of the world, these days that revealed a world full of diversity, either culturally, ethnically or mentally speaking.” [Charlus G.P., Historian]

Then, he turned back. He saw Romans behind him. Agrippa Cornelius Magnus and his legionaries had come to help Antigon and Ephesostes.

-“Agrippa, my friend…
-Commander?
-What?
-What are your orders, commander?
-You came here without your men exhausted from the battle at Sparta?
-My men and I will never sleep while all of this is not over. We have come here to put an end to all of this.
-It is time to end this war, Agrippa.”

The Romans formed up their ranks and walked to meet the Greeks.
---

Dimitrios was unconscious, lying down in the streets. When he woke up, everything seemed to be over. He scratched his head and was surprised to see that there was no noise in the city. It was now raining… Dimitrios had joined the Greek army even if he wasn’t a skilled soldier…

Everything seemed to be blurred and fuzzy in his head. He remembered the landing in the Piraeus, the terrible battle with the Roman legionaries at Phaleron… Then, he remembered. Patrocles Kerilos, his general, had been asked to attack Athens by Phaleron, a region near Athens squeezed between Phaleron’s wall and the Southern wall. With high ladders and improvised siege towers, Patrocles succeeded to take the Southern wall and played a vital role in the assault. Phaleron… Now, Dimitrios remembered.

“It was late in the night… almost morning. My army was the first one to land in Greece. We attacked with a great rapidity, but the attack to the Piraeus wasn’t synchronized and was a bit too late. So, Roman reinforcements kept coming at Phaleron to stop us. We didn’t know why, but we have played a vital role in this campaign. The Romans were waiting for an attack, but they didn’t know where. When we landed, they immediately sent help from the Piraeus to stop us, thinking that we were the main army. They withdrew their legionaries from where we REALLY wanted to attack. But, we were more some kind of elite soldiers (except me, of course!), making a diversion. If we hadn’t attacked, Antigon would have met a strong and well-prepared Roman army. I remember the faces of the Romans, being pierced by our wall of pikes. Their ugly deformed faces! Deformed by fear, deformed by hate, deformed by shame! I was deterred by fear… Patrocles was a strong man with a will of iron. His mentality was centred on harsh drilling and discipline. He was the kind of rough leader that never runs back. The kind of man who tries to banish “defeat” from his vocabulary. One day, he told us: “You will live through victory or die through defeat. In each case, you will be forgotten forever. You will only survive through the heart of the moment. Remember this, men.”

I remember having seen a Roman mounted centurion ordering his men to advance while his men threw him down of his horse. I heard a terrifying scream and my heart twisted itself… I was disgusted… Soldiers killing their own leader. Never brave Greek soldiers would do such a shameful act. Never.

And then, I remember the flight of the Romans. Their retreat was no more disciplined. They simply ran away like frightened children.”

-In the Parthenon, the Akropolis-

The Roman centurion Marcus Galopoeus was in charge of the Acropolis’ defence. (Do you now see the difference between Acropolis (normal English) and Akropolis (Ancient Greek)?) He had an impossible task: “Pushing the Greeks back to the sea”. Before his general died in his bed, wounded by an arrow at the shoulder (the gangrene did the rest of the work to make him die in a painful death), he asked him to march forward and to beat the Greeks. What he didn’t know though is that the Romans were exhausted by these hours of combat in the streets and that they were now trapped in the Acropolis.

“Stuck in the purest symbol of the Hellenic Greece… After that, the men think that the Greeks will take us as prisoners if we surrender… We have no choice: fighting to death until they abandon or that we all die. I have never seen my men in a such sad mood… Some men sang old patriotic and typically Roman war songs, but most of the songs they sang were complaints… I do not know what to do… Father… If you hear me in the other world, please give me a good idea!”

Then, Marcus remembered what his father, an unpopular but good Roman general, had told him when he was a kid. “A good commander never says “I don’t know”. He takes decisions no-matter what. These decisions can take the lives of your men as they can save them. There will always be a cost for a decision. It is you will determinate this cost. A good commander takes decisions, even if he thinks that “he doesn’t know”. A good commander always has ideas. A good commander must make his men believe that he always knows what to do, even if he doesn’t know or that this decision will cost a lot. There are no bad or good decisions. Only decisions. But, it is your task to make these decisions good ones. Charging in a loose formation can be an error strategically speaking, but if your men have no other choice and that they think that their leader knows what to do, you can succeed. A good commander must have the instinct of a commander. Even if he knows what to do, a commander must have this particular instinct, this way of feeling and seeing things as they come. A good commander must show his authority and show that he is the best. The best commander! You hear me? The best commander… commander…(the voice faded away)”

“-Commander! said a legionary to Marcus. What must we do?
-Prepare yourself for the hardest battle of your time. I am sure that you men can push these Greeks back to the sea. We must only repulse one assault, and then the city will be ours.
-Thanks, commander. Tight formation?
-Tight formation. Now, take some rest. These Greeks need to face legionaries who slept a bit. We need all our strengths.”

The legionary ran back to his comrades. Marcus knew that he didn’t take a rational decision, but sometimes you must rely on your instinct. Marcus sat on a marble column that fell down on the ground. He was just next to the Parthenon. What place could be better than this one to die? The men will just meet the Gods faster. Marcus thought about what had happened to his old friend-of-arms, Gaïus Grachus… During the campaign in Cisalpine and Transalpine Gaul, they had become close friends… But, Gaïus never came back of a scouting mission around the Carthaginian army… Often, the Oracles say that people find the junction of the once lost roads before their death. Maybe Gaïus had joined the Carthaginians to save his own life! Maybe he was taken as a slave? Maybe he was just dead! Marcus decided to stop thinking about all of this. He had graver matters to take care of.

The legionaries who fought at the Acropolis were going to become the true heroes of this battle. Though, heroes are often people who sacrificed themselves for a noble cause… Think about Achilles, Patrocles, Hector, think about the Achaean and Trojan heroes who died in a glorious way…

The legionaries prepared themselves for what could become their last battle.

---

The Greeks, on their side, have waited several hours to attack the Akropolis. The tension was at its highest peak. Then, our hero began to do his speech: “SOLDIERS OF GREECE…” Antigon was interrupted, but was pleased to see that Gaïus had joined him with some Roman rebels. Ephesostes, on his side, was lying down on a carpet. He had been lightly wounded (an arrow stuck in his shield, a part went apart the shield and this part scratched his arm.) and he didn’t want to fight anymore. To the eyes of the Greeks, he was nothing more than a decadent Greek. Pyrrhus, on his side, had been killed in a glorious way. With a large axe, he pushed XX Romans back to their gate when the Greeks assaulted the main gate of Athens. He roared with all his might, slaughtering his way in. Unfortunately, a volley of arrows stopped him. X arrows went into his flesh, while one reached his left eye. Though, the Rhodians and the Greeks weren’t leaderless yet!

Their last leader was Antigon! Antigon of Carthage! Before the final attack… the Greeks needed to hear one of these speeches that made the bravest and the toughest warrior pour the tiniest tear of pride and of patriotism. The speech of Carthage was a good example. Now, Antigon had to give his warriors a will of iron.

“SOLDIERS OF GREECE! I THINK THAT EVERY OF YOU KNOWS WHY HE IS FIGHTING HERE! WE ARE HERE TO FREE OUR COUNTRY FROM THE OPPRESSORS! I THINK MOST OF YOU KNOW WHO I AM. SOME PEOPLE CALL ME ANTIGON, OTHERS ANTIGON OF CARTHAGE, ANTIGON OF SYRACUSE… BUT, I WANT TO BE ANTIGON THE SOLDIER! NO ONE HERE WOULD HAVE BEEN A GREAT MAN ALONE! MILTIADES AT MARATHON WOULD NEVER HAVE DEFEATED THE PERSIANS ALONE! HE NEEDED HELP FROM ALL OF HIS ARMY! HIS MEN NEEDED COURAGE TO ACCOMPLISH WHAT A MAN CALLED “HIS” VICTORY. IN FACT, IT WAS THE VICTORY OF EVERY WARRIOR OF THE ATHENIAN ARMY!

A LEADER IS NOTHING WITHOUT HIS ARMY. AN EMPIRE ISN’T CONQUERED BY A SINGLE MAN! AN EMPIRE IS CONQUERED BY… (he lowered the tone) by a band of brothers! A band of men bound together by indefectible links of flesh, of blood, of spirituality! A band of brothers bound together by a single link: their teamwork! Courage, valour, strategy! Each of these qualities comes from teamwork ! It comes from you, men! WE ARE GREEK WARRIORS! GREEK BROTHERS! WE ARE SWORN BROTHERS!”

The Greeks cheered, delighted of such deep and reassuring words. They were addicted to the speech like a drunkard is addicted to wine from the vineyards of Greece. The cheers made the walls shake! Their cries of joy made the sky lighten. But, the speech wasn’t finished.

“I do not seek vengeance against a single man… I seek vengeance from a whole people! A whole nation! I seek vengeance against ROME ITSELF! If we win there, the world will know that the Romans can lose not only a battle, but a war too! The grandeur of the Greeks will never be forgotten! Glory is fleeting! But, if we win there, we will make the world remember the Greeks forever! FOREVER! COME WITH ME, WARRIORS! LET THIS DAY BE OURS!”

The Greeks, feeling their blood warm up, were now turning wild. This time, there would be a price to pay for the Romans.

---

Even if the Greeks outnumbered his men, Marcus Galopoeus trusted his men. He knew that they could make it. A legionary called him to the temple of Athena Nike. Marcus unrolled a map. It was the map of the Acropolis. “The main combat will take place at the Propylaea.” http://www.imagedump.com/index.cgi?pick=get&tp=277577 Marcus then went on the roof of the temple of Athena Nike. He had heard not far away the speech of Antigon. He couldn’t lead his men if they didn’t have the same hunger for victory that the Greeks had.

“Legionaries! Soldiers of Rome! I want you to stand your ground at the Propylaea, the main entrance of the Acropolis. If things get too rough for us, run at the Parthenon. I do not want to sacrifice your lives for nothing! I don’t want you to fight to death. I want you to give your best! I think that each of us knows that the Greeks outnumber us! I am sure that each of you is deterred by fear after having heard Antigon’s speech and the Greeks yelling what they call “war cries”! They act like barbarians! Have no fear, Romans! No, we will not let them pass, soldiers of Rome. Today, we will show the Greeks why the Romans have so easily conquered their country! It is not only a matter of valour, of “pure” blood… It’s a question of modernization and of evolution! A matter of organization and of cultural differences! The Greeks are old… their might crumbled away with the continual wars between themselves and against the Persians. We Romans are united! We Romans are the new heroes of the legends! Stand firm, soldiers! Let them come! LET THEM COME TO US TO LET THEM DIE! LET THEM SEE OUR WORTH! FORM UP THE RANKS! ROAR YOUR HATE WITH ME! ROAR YOUR COURAGE! LET THE PASSION OF WAR AND THE PASSION OF MARS TAKE POSSESSION OF YOUR BODY AND FOLLOW ME! TO WAR!”

The Romans cheered even louder than the Greeks. The birds on the temples flew away and the crows prepared themselves for the feast. The clouds became grey and thin droplets came from the sky to crash on the steel armours, on the bronze helmets, on the hoplite shields, on the Roman pilums… As a sign of the Gods, a flash of lightning tore the sky apart, glittering with a divine energy. It was then that both armies fought at the Propylaea. Antigon led the Greeks while Marcus led the Romans. The common hate between the II peoples then exploded.

---

Antigon was the first to strike. He slammed his shield at a legionary while a gladius fell on his helmet. His head was hurting, but he kept striking and striking. He was unstoppable, he thought. Hannit was fighting with him, trying to follow his friend. He had forgotten how skilled and fast he was. Gaïus, fighting with Agrippa, saw with atrocity what he was doing… He kept fighting, but something terrible had just happened in his mind…

While, Marcus was giving his CX %! He was fighting with the strength of the despaired, but though he still had hope. He threw a dagger to a Greek hoplite. The dagger perfectly went threw the eyeshade so typical of a hoplite helmet. The dagger was stuck hard in the head, as the Greek fell on the flagstones, spilling blood from his head on the paving stones. Marcus took a spear on the ground and thrust it into a Roman rebel. The combat was raging! The fight had spread itself through all the Akropolis. Men fought in the temple of Athena Nike, the Propylaea, the Old Temple of Athena, the Erechtheum… everywhere! The only place freed of the combats was the Parthenon. Phillipos was like a mad man: he charged the Romans, even without the Greeks! He fought as if he was invincible! Hannit, like I said, was trying to follow Antigon, although everyone knew where he was. He was in the middle of the battle, clashing with Marcus, the Roman leader. The Romans fell back to the Parthenon, their last stand. Few Greeks had died, though a lot were wounded. The Romans were less lucky… They had more dead soldiers than the wounded and alive ones together.

The fight between Greeks and Romans was full of hate rather than passion of war. The opponents didn’t hesitate to use the most treacherous manners to kill their opponents, like striking in someone’s back while he fights someone else.

Marcus slashed Antigon on the left, while Antigon slashed Marcus on his left. Marcus slammed his shield on Antigon, while he inflicted a wound to the right leg of Marcus. Marcus took a javelin and succeeded with multiple little hits to make his adversary fall on the ground. Now, every soldier stopped fighting to see the epic combat between the II leaders. Marcus waited for Antigon to get up… Dumb? No, it’s meant to show that Marcus was going to fight a fair combat. Antigon continued striking furiously until he slashed the Roman centurion’s face. Marcus screamed, as blood flew from his eyes… A large gash was beginning from the top left of his forehead to the right cheek of Marcus… Marcus felt pain take his heart. Even if he was now blind, he took his gladius, got up and stroke, “feeling” the weapon. He thrust his sword in Antigon’s left ribs. The armor cracked in an horrible sound. The sword went into the flesh, but tot totally. Deep enough to inflict a severe wound though. Suddenly, a voice broke the silence of the soldiers, examining each of their leader’s movements. Gaïus had enough of all of this.

“STOP!”

The men looked at him. Both leaders turned to Gaïus, their face grimacing with pain. Even if Marcus couldn’t see, he could hear. “This tone of voice… This young voice full of both compassion and contempt…” Marcus thought…

-“Gaïus… GAÏUS! WHERE ARE YOU?
-I am here, Marcus.”

Nobody will ever know if what came from Marcus’ eyes at this moment was a tear of joy or a droplet of blood. But, Antigon was offended to see that his friend still had Roman friends from the enemy’s camp!

-“GAÏUS! yelled Antigon. YOU KNOW HIM? I’M GOING TO KILL HIM, SO TELL WHAT YOU HAVE TO TELL HIM RIGHT NOW!
-NO, ANTIGON! I WILL TELL THIS TO BOTH OF YOU! THE ROMANS HERE KNOW THAT THEY LOST. ASK THEM IF THEY WANT TO SURRENDER AND THEY CERTAINLY WILL. BUT, THEY FOUGHT BRAVELY BECAUSE THEY KNEW THAT THEY WOULD BE EXECUTED IF THEY WERE IN YOUR PATH! (he lowered the voice) You will have to learn, both of you, that you have both fought bravely and your skills are both unequalled both in power and rapidity. But, you have to know when to stop this combat. The Romans lost and they know it. (Murmurs came from the crowd of soldiers) Stop this duel and spare them! YOU HEARD ME, ANTIGON?
-Why should I spare the ones who destroyed everything I once had?
-The Roman Senate ordered the legions of Messana to destroy Syracuse and to invade Carthage, yes it’s true. But, it’s their Senate’s fault! I know Marcus because we fought together during the campaign of Cisalpine and Transalpine Gaul. I can tell you that each of these men here that I’ve met during this campaign are all here! Well, the ones who are still alive! They are all nice people, like me and you! Now, end this! Throw your weapons down!
-Never! yelled Antigon. (the men hesitated).
-Listen, Antigon! I have always followed you whatever happened! Why would I betray you now? Every of you there has a common thing: you are humans. You can call yourselves Greeks and Romans, but remember that you are all civilized people!”

Antigon couldn’t fight anymore with what Gaïus had said… The Romans were a people, like the Greeks, the Carthaginians or the Seleucids… They had to be treated with respect, like any civilized man. Antigon and Marcus dropped their weapons. The Roman threw down their weapons and surrendered. They were taken prisoners, but Antigon decided to send them back to Rome. The Greeks were happy that now the battle was over. To end all of this, Antigon made his last great speech.

-“SOLDIERS OF GREECE! Today, we have won more than a battle! We have won the respect of the Romans! We have showed them that the Greeks are still strong! Now, the world will know that the Romans can not only suffer several defeats, but they can also lose a war! With me ends the reign of the Hellenic people. I think all of you showed their valour and their courage. I’m sure that the Romans will never forget their crushing defeat! But, like I said, the Hellenic period is now over. The Romans will come back with greater armies, and the Greeks will fail. I know that I will not be there when the Romans will come back, and the Gods told me that the might of Greece would end once and for all. This last exploit will remain in the mind of every people in this world. I have made my time in this war. The Gods told me that I needed to some rest for a long time… maybe forever! Hannit, my friend. You have always been my right hand. You have supported me in the hard times. I want to thank you, Hannit. (He hugged him friendlily. Their friendship will never be forgotten by the Greek army as a symbol of loyalty.)

You, Gaïus. You knew how to make me realize that I wasn’t freeing Greece by killing all these Romans. You made me realize that if I executed these men, I wouldn’t be better than the Senate of Rome. You have been the intermediary, the link between Romans and Greeks. You are wise, Gaïus. Stay gold, my friend.

Phillipos, my left hand… Since I have known you, I felt less alone in the unexplored world of Carthage, Gaul, Iberia and Rome. You are a great warrior, worth Ajax the Great himself! You are the symbol my like the older brother that I’ve never had. Thank you, Phillipos.

And all of you, Greeks! We made of this day ours! Together, like sworn brothers! I saw in your eyes the blazing fire of courage! Together, we wrote a new page in the book of the History of our world. Hail the might of Greece! Hail you all, sons of Greece! I am glad that Sparta and Athens have fought under the same banner, men. It is an example that few people were able to show. Once again, men… One last time…”

The men yelled with Antigon and everyone in the city: “WE ARE SWORN BROTHERS! HAIL THE MIGHT OF GREECE AND THE HELLENIC PEOPLE!”

The sun was timidly showing himself, hidden behind the dark clouds. He went out of his hiding place, but to slowly disappear behind the line of the horizon. The crepuscule was magnificent in the sky. The waves of the Aegean sea were being tinted with gold… The sea became the continuation of the smooth horizon until the brilliance reached the shores of Greece, of the ruins of Carthage and Syracuse, of Rhodes… and all the rest of the Mediterranean coast…

***

Epilogue

The historian Ekerios was walking in the dusty library of Athens. After having talked with the keeper, he went into a remote row. Texts here were written in ancient Greek. The historian kept walking until he reached a precise part of the row. There, old papyrus sheets yellowed by the time were taken in the vigorous hand. The man gently blew on a spider that fell on the ground. The man smiled. He unrolled the sheets, and saw: “A Greek Carthaginian’s tale. By Charlus G.P., Historian”.

The man began reading. During hours and hours, the man read carefully. “These texts are quite interesting… The oracle was right. Antigon was a legend. Did he really exist? Did all of this really happen? It is strange because this copy is a unique one… I have never heard of this historian… Maybe I should do a little research on him…” The man rolled back the sheets in the library. He began reading texts of Thucydides about the Peloponesian war to take a break. After, he read texts from Plutarch. After hours of a patient reading, he got up and left the library. His father was waiting for him outside. III other tall men. One was a Roman and these men seemed old. Really old… “So, what have you found, son?”

-“Nothing”, lied Ekerios.

“An historian always tries to find the source of a precise information before divulging it.”

***

Notes and Comments from the Author

First-of-all, I want to thank you, dear readers, for having read my tale during these numerous pages. I enjoyed a lot writing all of this since the first word to the last word. Now, let’s see who is who, what is what, why, where, when, and what is true.

Antigon, my main hero, is a complex character. He begins the story as a simple man. He doesn’t like war, he likes simple things, he has everything a man can wish to be a happy man. But, a part of himself stayed at Syracuse while he left for Carthage. The campaign against the Iberians and the Romans was quite exhausting, but it forged his character and his mentality. He became a tough guy. The adventure near Massilia made him know Gaïus, a clever young Roman. After Syracuse burned, he became Antigon of Carthage. He became a great man, but it slowly destroyed him. Antigon was the kind of guy who suffered too much. I created Antigon a bit from Hannibal Barca (which was a great Carthaginian general). In the story, we don’t really know what happened next to Antigon, right? That’s the beauty of it! It’s like every legend: the end is mysterious, we seek through the limits between the real and the unreal… Antigon looks like a mythic hero, like Achilles.

Also, there is a strange thing about our favourite (I hope) hero… I don’t know if you guys remarked it, but he knew that Greece would be conquered, even after the victories at Sparta and Athens. He was a strategist, but he had a sense of great deduction. He knew that his people weren’t united at all, by now… Most of the rebels came from what was left of the Ionian colonies and Athens. Sparta was more focused on its own problems. The ancient links between the Greek cities died with the Delian league (which led the Greeks to some kind of civil war: the Peloponesian War). Sparta wanted a republic instead of an Empire (Athens’ hegemony was really pissing them off…). Antigon realized that soon or later, Greece would be conquered.

Phillipos was more the best friend of Antigon. I created him with a great physical condition and a great warrior. There is not much to say about him…

Hannit is, like you guys have read, a Carthaginian soldier who became, during the siege of Carthage, a Sacred Band rider (Antigon too, he even became their leader!). This character is far less complex than Antigon… He’s simply a soldier who follows his friend through his adventures. The time where we doubt of his loyalty is when he suspiciously leaves from Antioch to find “something or someone”. In fact, his father, Proeth, succeeded to run away from Carthage. He established himself in Sicily and became a prosperous and wealthy weapon trader. In his gardens, a slave was working: Ekerios, Antigon’s son. Yes! He had escaped from Syracuse before the Romans dared to attack it. That’s proved that Hannit was really one of the most loyal friends of Antigon: he knew his friends pretty much better than anyone in the story… He knew how he had suffered and succeeded to provide Antigon what was missing from him: his son and a track of his past. Ekerios was what missed to Antigon to become Antigon of Syracuse.

Ekerios, was, indeed, Antigon’s son. Several years after the victory of the Greeks over the Romans at Athens, he became an historian. He was more passionate by what his ancestors did than doing things greater than his ancestors. There are definitely no writings of him about his father or what happened at Athens… he was only V years old then! He wasn’t a warrior like his father… he was more what Antigon could have become if he didn’t join Hannibal.

Gaïus Grachus, on his side, is mostly inspired by me, myself, and I. Some will say that I’m pretentious, but there is something to understand behind this. I do not like war, even if I am an aggressive person SOMETIMES. I like History a lot. For me, History is not only a way to learn about our ancestors’ mistakes not to repeat them… I think that learning History is a way of discovering how the mankind evolved through time… A way to see the different cultures from different people… their way of thinking, their way of interpreting simple but complex things at the same time. The Greece of Athens was a Greece of freedom, of democracy. The Greece of Athens was the beginning of what could have become the world of today in Europe. Their ideas were great. For me, the Greece was the clef of a music partition. It was the directing line. Philosophers like Socrates and Plato made the mind of the Greeks think otherwise than the people of Europe at this time. The Greece of Sparta, on its side, was a Greece centred on military power. The Spartans were more like the Romans, if I dared to do the comparison. Gaïus had the same way of thinking as me. He! He! Gaïus had the same way of seeing the world: a diversity of cultures, but all the same people living in it: humans. Do you remember my citation?

“These days that made the History of our world, these days full of controversy that changed the face of the world, these days that revealed a world full of diversity, either culturally, ethnically or mentally speaking.” [Charlus G.P., Historian]

Well, a little comment just like that… The only thing that I shouldn’t have written is the “Historian” at the end… I am definitely not an historian and I leave this job to the true historians of our time.

Now, let’s talk about Pyrrhus, the King of Rhodes. I took the name of this character from Pyrrhus, the King of southern Italy during the Greek occupation of the southern Italy. I made himself as an arrogant person, thinking about his own little problems. Fortunately, Terenas, with his diplomatic skills, succeeded to make him join the “fictional” Greek rebellion. Ah, yes! This rebellion never happened, by the way! I simply made up a story during a precise historic period, meaning the period of Carthage’s fall in CXLVI BC (146 BC for the lazy guys).

Terenas was mostly a nowhere character that I’ve made up to send someone to convince Pyrrhus. Dimitrios was simply another narrator and didn’t really have a crucial role in this story (even if the was the messenger of the rebels)… He was mostly a secondary character. Beram, in the first Serie, was the typical veteran of the army who knows everyone…

Xanathus Demikros IV, Reos Okles, Nemios Akapella and Armenion of Sparta are all fictional characters (like all the characters of this story, except Hannibal). They are generals that have experience. Xanathus Demikros IV was taken from a story of my good friend (if I can call him a friend, he he!) Legacy0100 with his story Troia Hellenes Diaspora. His main character, a Seleucid (named Xanathus Demikos (no “r”) was a character that pleased me a lot, so I made some kind of “copy”, but only the name. Xanathus is a man who has a great sense of honor and of responsibility. Unfortunately, he doesn’t predict everything… he’s more a man of action. When he sent III of his armies (he even led one of them) to Greece, he didn’t think about the boundaries of his own kingdom. He had to leave for Antioch with the rest of his armies. Fortunately, he reached Antioch soon enough to lead a successful counter-attack against the Parthians. He pushed them back to Seleucia and even took the city back. (story scenario, it’s not historically true). Now, I think that you guys are a bit fed up with the characters, no?

Now, let’s figure out what is historically accurate and what is not. What is the truth behind A Greek Carthaginian’s tale? The story takes place in an historical context, I think everyone should know by now. Sometimes, I’ve slipped some tricky things in the story. For example: In the epilogue, when Ekerios the historian gets out of the library, we think that he is the son of Antigon, right? Well, you should think at it II times. In the library, he read texts of Thucydides (from now, everything’s all right) and of Plutarch. Here is the problem: Plutarch was a Greek philosopher which lived during the Roman occupation of Greece (so we know that the Greeks have been conquered) and, most important of all, he lived from XLV (45) A.D. (Anno Domini) to CXXV (125) A.D. So, logically, it can’t be Antigon’s son because the story took place around CXLVI (146) B.C. Did you guys get it before I revealed the it? I think most of you did. The guy “Ekerios” was probably simply put there by chance… Or maybe just to mess everything up! Who knows?

Like I said, the Greek rebellion never happened. The campaign of Carthage with Hannibal Barca didn’t last some months like I said in the story. It took XIV (14) years! Thanks to WIKIPEDIA (what a wonderful source of information!), I have found what did REALLY happen. It’ll stop the “I don’t know” and the “I should check it up”.

Hannibal (247 BC – 182 BC) was a great general of Carthage, best known for his achievements in the Second Punic War in marching an army from Spain (Iberia) over the Pyrenees and the Alps into northern Italy and defeating the Romans at the Battles of the river Trebia (218 BC), Lake Trasimene (217 BC) and Cannae (216 BC). After Cannae (that one hurted), the Romans refused to fight him in pitched battles, and gradually captured the cities that had gone over to Hannibal in southern Italy. An invasion of Africa by the Romans under Scipio Africanus in 204 BC forced Hannibal to return to Africa, where Scipio defeated him at Zama (202 BC).
Following the end of the war, Hannibal led Carthage for several years, helping it to recover from the devastation of the war, until the Romans forced him into exile in 195 BC. He went to live at the court of Antiochus III of the Seleucid Kingdom. In 189 BC the Romans, having defeated Antiochus in a war, demanded that he turn Hannibal over to them and the general fled again, this time to the court of King Prusias I of Bithynia. When the Romans demanded that Prusias surrender him in 182 BC, Hannibal committed suicide rather than submit.

The III Punic wars were during 264 to 241 BC, 218 to 202 BC, and 149 to 146 BC, which resulted the fall of Carthage the Great. The Roman general Scipio Aemilianus (do not confuse with Scipio Africanus, the victor of Zama). Since this event, each battle in Africa needed a leader from the Scipii family, as the Romans thought that the Scipii were godgifted in every battle in Africa. The reference for this particular information comes from a book that I’ve read on Julius Caesar and Cleopatra. The book is “Caesar and Cleopatra” (written by Colleen McCullough, which relates the life of Caesar during his conquest of Egypt and the civil war with these famous Roman leaders, like Marcus Antonius, Octavianus (Octavian), Cato, Cicero, Brutus… During the defeat of Thapsus (46 BC) of Metellus Pius Scipio and Juba Ist, King of Numidia.
Lastly, I’d like to thank all of you, dear readers, to have spent time reading A Greek Carthaginian’s Tale during these VI months.
So here ends, once and for all, the tale of Antigon, the Greek Carthaginian. Through our souls and imagination he will live… forever.
-“Finis is”- (the end)
© Greek Phalanx Pictures Exhibition Inc.











Antigon’s portrait
http://www.imagedump.com/index.cgi?pick=get&tp=271652

more will follow

A Khan’s tale

The cold steppes of Mongolia were stained with blood with the numerous years of war in Mongolia. The snow was tinted with grey, as if white snow, a symbol of purity, faded away with time… The spears had hit so much times that most of them lost their solidity and their swiftness. In the cold steppes of Mongolia, war was raging since decades and decades. The Mongols, fighting between themselves, were leaderless. The constant raids of the Tatars had greatly weakened the Mongol tribes. In Mongolia, it was nothing more than the reign of chaos. The Tatars are an independent people who doesn’t have any solidarity between their tribes. The Mongols and the Tatars are stuck in a struggle for survival.

The Tatars’ name (also called Tartars by the European) comes from the Ta-Ta Mongols who, in the 5th century, inhabited the North-eastern Gobi. After subjugation in the 9th century by the Khitans, they migrated southward, there founding the Mongol empire under Genghis Khan. The Tartars’ name is a collective name applied to the Turkic-speaking people of Europe and Asia. Most Tatars live in the central and southern parts of Russia, Ukraine, Poland and in Bulgaria, China, Kazakhstan, Romania, Turkey, and Uzbekistan. The Tatars were considered by the Mongol tribes barbarians and blood-thirsty lost souls. The Mongols, on their side, were tribes of Nomadic people.

The merciless wars lasted as long as the Mongol tribes were disunited and as the Tatar tribes grew more and more powerful. Even ununited, their population was augmenting with a greater rate than the Mongols. The Mongols, divided in several tribes independent from each other, fought between themselves for matters of honor, vengeance, but sometimes, the Mongols had other reasons.When then famine was too much for the Mongols, they had to do raids to have food on the other tribes, which led to unceasant wars. The food, rare in the cold steppes, was the main reason of fighting. But, the Mongols are promised to a greater destiny than eating crops and berries…

The Omens are confused, and in the shadows everyone is trapped. The deteriorating Mongol culture was about to be shoveled in the darkness, but it wanted to survive. No one will ever know why, but even lost in a war beyond their understanding, the people living in the steppes knew how to live… How to survive, I should say…

But, hidden in the fog, in the dust, and in the mist, an upcoming leader was born. Here is the tale of this great Khan’s life, the first Khan who reached the unreachable, succeeded the impossible and saw the unseen. Lost in a world of barbarism, a man will emerge from the chaos and bring a response to the Mongols’ questions…

Here is the tale of the first great Khan known in History.

Part I
-A childhood spent in hell-

Chapter I

“It is a boy, Great Khan Yesükhei.” said the shaman, a grim smile painted on his face. His hands were full of blood, tenderly holding a little boy. The child was clutching a blood clot in his hand. Hoelun, Yesükhei’s wife, was exhausted but happy that her son was alive. The tribesmen glared at the shaman. The shaman made complicated signs with his hands, mumbled some words that only him seemed to understand the sense. The tension amongst the members of the tribe seemed to be at its climax. The cold air was making Yesükhei even more nervous. The shaman looked at the sky, and said:
“The Omens are clear. The blood clot that this second son of Yesükhei, leader of our tribe, holds in his hands means that he will become a great warrior. He will become a great man and will accomplish what we Mongols never succeeded to do… The Omens aren’t really clear on this subject… Great Khan, what will be his name?”

The men turned back at their leader, a large smile pained on his face. His slit eyes were revealing a great pride about his new son.

“I will call him Borjigin Temüjin. Temüjin will have the same name as the Tatar leader I have recently slain. He will bear the name of our tribe as every man standing here with me. (“Temüjin” means “Iron Worker”… later his name will be similar to “Iron Will”) He is born in the mountains of Burhan Haldun, here at Hentiy. I declare that he will be my successor, my heir… The Borjigin people (the tribe cheered as they heard their name) will see the end of these wars. A ray of light will come from these grey clouds and save the destiny of our people. I see in my son a great warrior, and I don’t need the Omens to make me realize it.”

Yesükhei didn’t celebrate the birth of his second son, Temüjin. The tribe needed food for the upcoming winter. Soon, there would be nothing more to eat for the tribe. The nomadic people of the Borjigin tribe (Kiyad clan) needed to change their encampment for the upcoming winter. They needed to go south to find pasturages for their horses and food. The bushes were freezing and the berries were rarer and rarer by each day. The yurts needed to be prepared for the departure. The rigorous weather in the steppes was quite testing for the Mongols.

With the years, Temüjin became addicted to her mother’s affection, to her wise councils, to the respect that she had from the other members of the tribe. In these times, the women had a great place in the Mongolian society. They were even more important than some men in the tribes! Hoelun was a wise woman. She loved her son with all the love that she could provide him. She was a cold-mannered woman that always had a strand of bitterness in her voice… But, her beauty made the men forget about this obvious aspect of her. Her black hair were long and soft. Yesükhei made lots of people jealous…

Temüjin loved his father. He had a deep admiration of his determination and his skills with a bow. His father was a good man, respected of his tribe. Temüjin, like most of the Mongol people, was illiterate. That didn’t stop him from being a wise man. A normal childhood could have been a true gift of the Gods for Temüjin. Unfortunately, his childhood made him become the man everybody knows today. Bekter, his older brother, wasn’t a so great warrior. He was more a simple kid who never really grew up mentally. In his mind, Yesükhei was like an invincible hero. Temüjin didn’t have the same link as the link of fraternity that each brother has towards his other brother.

***

At the age of 9, Temüjin began to hunt. Yesükhei had prepared him a short bow to help him hunt the rare prey wandering in the glacial steppes. Temüjin was now muscular and stocky in built. His chin was still as smooth and bald as a rock eroded by the waves of the sea during hundreds of years. Though, Temüjin wasn’t an adolescent yet. He had a young face, a young mentality. He was at the phase where a man begins to forge his character. He was still learning about pretty much every aspect of life. A man can be forged through the hard iron of misery or through the soft gold of easiness … everything depends of which material he is forged with. For example, the difficult climate made Temüjin learn about the valour of livestock… He learned about the fragile equilibrium of nature…

Going along with Nevniz, one of his older friends, he approached near a marmot. He was quite far, riding on a small horse. Even if the Mongol horses were small, they were the fastest horses. Temüjin aimed with his short bow. He closed one of his eyes, like he always did when aiming with a bow. The marmot heard the rumble of the horses’ hooves. The earth was emitting strange vibrations. A distinct sound was heard. The one of someone who released an arrow from his bow. Temüjin was happy to see that the marmot wasn’t moving anymore. He would have something to give to his father before he left to meet a tribe unknown to Temüjin. He rode back to the encampment. He went to the yurt of the clan’s shaman, and went to see his mother. Entering in the yurt full of smoke, Temüjin met his mother, a strange look painted on her face.

The smoke in the yurts was typical of the Mongol yurts. The Mongols steamed the meat and smoked a lot in the gers (yurts). Some hypothesises say that it could be some religious ritual. The Mongols often liked for breakfast, lunch, and supper “airag », which is fermented and slightly alcoholized mare’s milk. “Yurt” or “yurta” is actually the Russian word for these felt dwelling places. The Kazakhs who use them call them “Kigizui” and the Mongolians call them “ger”. Due to Russia's influence, however, yurt is the best known word. Wooden poles connect the lattice-work on the bottom of the yurt to the “shangrak” (the hole in the middle of the tent for the smoke to escape). This wood frame (“kerege”) is then covered with felt and then usually with canvas. Followers of the New Age religion have used the name "yurts" for some their huts as well. Although those structures may be copied to some extent from the originals found in Central Asia, they have been greatly changed and adapted and are in most cases very different.

“-Good day, mother, said the kid, holding triumphantly the marmot in his hands.
-Good day, Temüjin. I see that you caught something good for the tribe! You are a good hunter, my son.
-Thank you, mother. The shaman told me that you wanted to talk to me… May I know why?
-Your father Yesükhei is leaving for the eastern steppes. He wants you to come with him.
-He doesn’t need my help for hunting, mother!
-He doesn’t go hunting. He wants you to come with you. Another stage of your life begins, Temüjin. Soon you will become a man. You must choose a wife.”

Temüjin stepped back at the word “wife”. He had the physical condition of a man about 14 years old, but certainly not the mentality to find a wife! A new experience in the life of our Mongol hero… He rarely thought about this, after all. He saw the other members of his tribe with their wives, making them work. Simple works like steaming the meat, finding berries, taking the charge of the children’s education… He even heard sometimes some “sounds” coming from the other gers, late during the night. (I think I will skip these kinds of details) During the discussion, Yesükhei arrived from a hunting ride. Escorted by 5 broad-shouldered warriors, he climbed down of his horse. Droplets of sweat were running from his long and thin beard… He said flatly: “We’re going, son. Get your horse and prepare your equipment for a long ride. We’re going to the extreme East.”

Temüjin docilely followed his father. Yesükhei Bahadur (Bahadur means “valiant”) was ready to leave immediately. Then, he left the encampment with his father. For weeks, Temüjin followed his father through the cold plains of Mongolia. The trees were short and with the difficult climate couldn’t grow up a lot. The Mongolian steppes were a soil poor in minerals. The land was definitely unfarmable. Some say that the soil was sterile since the Tatars stepped on Mongol territory… For weeks, both of our adventurers rode through the snow (even if there weren’t a lot of precipitations in this part of the world), through wind, through the freezing breeze of night. Eating crops and berries found on the way, Temüjin had never been so close of his father. They survived together, each one counting on the other. It made the little kid remember about the times when he was younger. With his older brother, he once stole horses from a Tatar clan. The clan pursued him, but got lost in the Borjigin territory. They were afraid together, each counting on the other. But, the joy of the clan, happy that they had 4 new horses, quickly made the kids forget about their adventure.

***

Some days after the departure from the clan, Yesükhei and Temüjin succeeded to find a friendly clan. The riders’ clothes were all dirty and dusty. A warrior presented Yesükhei young girls of the Konkirat tribe able to be taken as a wife; an alliance between 2 tribes is always a good thing. Temüjin seemed to be uninterested, even if all that was going on was just for him. Suddenly, he saw a very pretty girl, but she was one year older than him. She was young and had a relatively pale complexion, which give her charm. Her long dark hair was almost perfectly matching with her dark slit eyes. Her name was Börte Chono. The young man pointed Börte and said: “I want her. She is the perfect bride.”

After, Temüjin had to stay with his father-in-law and wait here until he had the age of marriage, which was 14. His father Yesükhei, happy that he didn’t come here for nothing, decided to go back to the Borjigin clan.

***

After a ride of several days, Yesükhei met a Tatar tribe. They invited him to share their feast.

-“So, Mongol lord, how is your tribe surviving? Hem… (the Tatar was hesitant) I mean… living?
-Oh, it’s all fine out there. My son is about to take a wife and I must go back to the Borjigin tribe. I am glad that you invited me.” answered Yesükhei.

Though, he didn’t recognize who these Tatars were. In fact, they were members of a tribe who was stolen by his clan. Yesükhei had already stolen horses to this tribe with his warriors. The leader of the Borjigin tribe ate rapidly, but began to feel strange. The faces around him were beginning to blur and to get fuzzy… “POISONED!” he thought. He stabbed a Tatar and ran to his horse. With all of his strengths, he succeeded to get on his horse and to ride away. His stomach was beginning to hurt greatly, as his forces were weakening by each breath. Each breath was more and more difficult and grew more and more painful.

In the Tatar clan, the chief said to his men: “A Tatar never forgives. He will die soon, men. A wise man never puts his trust in anyone.”

Few hours later, Yesükhei arrived to the Borjigin encampment. He said with a feeble voice: “Go find Temüjin… It is time for him to be the leader… Send a rider to find him in the Konkirat tribe… Go east…” A rider was sent as soon as possible.

***
Chapter II

Nevniz, Temüjin’s friend since childhood, was riding with a great rapidity. He just celebrated his 13 years’ birthday. His heart was light and heavy at the same time… He had to bring a sad new to one of his best friends… Sadly, it was an unfortunate event for someone who loved his father…

His experience as a hunter made him orientate himself easily in the large spaces of Mongolia. He was an excellent archer and a good cavalryman. All he needed now was the training of a warrior. He finally arrived to the Konkirat tribe, literally exhausted. He saluted the tribe’s chief and saw Temüjin. He tried to smile, but a tear from his face spoiled the effect wanted. Temüjin approached, and he said:

-“My friend, why are you in such a state? What happened?
-I bring a message from our ancient leader Yesükhei. He wants you to return to the tribe and to become our leader. He is dead, my friend.
-How?
-Poisoned by the Tatars…”

Temüjin’s heart then tightened up. An intolerable pain invaded his soul… He felt a knot, a ball in his throat. He wanted to cry, but, not knowing why, he didn’t. His soul told him to stay calm, to stay hard… The only thing he wanted was vengeance. Nothing more than pure and simple vengeance. But, he was too young to inflict the Tatars a worthy vengeance… He still needed to grow up to learn… to learn from his mother. Sternly looking at the clouds, Temüjin left the tribe. Before he left, he said: “I will return, beautiful Börte. One day, I will return for our marriage. But now, I have graver matters to take care of.”

Börte looked sadly at her future husband. He was still young and a bit childish, but she knew that later he would come back to accomplish his oath. She knew that her lover would come back. She knew… because Temüjin always held his promises.

***

Back at the camp, the whole village gazed suspiciously at Temüjin. He looked in the eyes of the tribesmen, but he didn’t find there the smallest gleam of respect… Maybe he had to pass an initiation…? A tall warrior looked at him and laughed. He laughed so loudly that the whole tribe joined him. He said:

-“We will not be led by a whelp… Look at yourself! You are 9 years old, kid! I could crush you just with a wooden stick! We need a true leader, not a child!
-My father Yesükhei made of me his heir. I have the right to reign over the tribe!
-I tell you that we will not follow a weak-minded whelp like you…”

Someone in the tribe added “He’s a coward! He’s a child!” and voices raised from the crowd, like “We are better to find our own leader…”, “Ha! Ha! That kid wants to lead us! If only his father could be alive to laugh at him!”, “That pitiful child is thrash… Let’s leave him with his family with his “clan””. Laughs raised from the tribe as the clan left Temüjin and a few people who wanted to stay with him. His mother, looking with a cold glare at the tribesmen, whispered to her young son: “Do not trust anyone but your shadow, son. The world is to be treated with distrust and suspicion.” The rest of the clan made the last preparations and left, leaving Temüjin and his family to an horrible destiny. Isolated from everyone, Temüjin and his family (with some friendly clan members who decided to stay with them, still loyal to the new “chief”.) were going to have to survive in the cold steppes… For years! Eating marmots, crops, berries… A hard life was awaiting Temüjin, left alone with his mother Hoelun, his brothers Bekter and Qasar, and the bitterness of defeat…

***

Years passed, more and more difficult by each one passing. The food was rarer, but Temüjin grew up. He became taller, stronger, and wiser. A little beard was beginning to appear, giving him the look of a strong warrior. His skills with a bow were unmatched, and his brother’s (Bekter) skills with a horse were unbelievable. The Mongolian horses (similar in size with the zebra), called Przewalski Horses (The name comes from the Russian Nikolai Przewalksi) by the Russians or Takhi by the Mongols, are little horses and are today some of the last savage horses in the world. Some people call Mongolia the Land of Horses. Hunting foxes, marmots, rabbits, squirrels, badgers, gerbils and many other animals living in Mongolia, Bekter and Temüjin were trying to find something to eat. In the distant forests, a fox was running away. The animal ran like an arrow through the pines, dodging in and out of the trees. A distant rumble was heard, as it came closer and closer. The ground began to tremble, the silver birches were even whiter… A leaf was carried by the wind until the wind strength’s faded away. The leaf quietly began to fall down, performing some dancing movements, the choregraphy rythmed by a tender serenade. Suddenly, the “Andante” tempo accelerated, accelerated more and more until the serenade became accompanied with percussions. The percussions had a distinct regular rhythm. The “Allegro” rhythm kept accelerating, augmenting of volume. The leaf reached the ground, but 2 horses fiercely rode through the trees, riding after the lone fox. The fox nervously dared to look back, as an arrow whistled towards him. The arrow hit hardly a pine’s trunk. A guttural laugh broke for a moment the rapid bolero and the percussions.

-“Brother, I think you lost your accuracy with your bows! Ha! Ha! The frost deadened your fingers, my dear Bekter! Let the expert show you how to hold a bow…
-Temüjin! It was nothing more but a practise move!”

The 2 brothers stared at each other, as they separated to catch more easily their prey. Temüjin took an arrow, aimed at the pines, as if he was aiming at a distant shadow. He released the arrow and he heard a strange sound. He rode towards the trajectory of his arrow and found the dead fox. After all, his training began to make him become a great warrior!

***

These lean and dangerous years taught the young Mongol to be patient, steady, shrewd, and practical. One day after fishing, Temujin had successfully trapped a small bird for food. The little bird seemed pitifully little, but roasted, this little bird was exquisite. He yelped with joy. Suddenly, Temüjin saw with anger than his little bird had disappeared. He whispered between his teeth : « Bekter… You false half-brother… » His half-brother Bekter had stolen the day’s catch for himself.

On his side, Bekter was happy that he could eat one of these exquisite birds. He walked in the forest, and he heard a strange “CRACK”. He looked nervously around him, unaware of what was going on. He saw a face hidden in the pines; it was Qasar’s one. Suddenly, he felt a sharp pain in his back. He looked back with pain to see that his half-brother Temüjin had stuck a knife in his back. His other brother Qasar took a bow, aimed for his brother and an arrow went right into Bekter’s forehead. The 2 brothers mutilated the body with a savage sadism. They were fully covered with blood… A dark light in Temüjin’s eyes had made him do a sordid act… He really didn’t back down… In revenge, Temujin and Qasar had ambushed Bekter and murdered him.

When the boys came back, their mother was now uncontrollable. She was furious and angry. She was crying and yelling at the same time at her sons…
“My sons… You will never be able to win back the leadership of your father’s own clan! Look at yourselves! You dared to kill coldly one of your brothers only because he stole food! SHAME ON YOU, SONS! You aren’t even worth Tatars! It’s with people like you that the Mongols suffer so much! Except for your shadows, you have no companions ... except for your horse's tails, you have no whips!” She stopped crying as her tone became as cold as ice.

Mongol children were not hardened to suffering; they were born to it.

***

Temüjin’s mother taught him several lessons about the life in Mongolia.

“Trust no one but your shadow, my son. The world is full of traitors… I know that it is hard for you to believe, but everyone in this world will potentially, one day, betray you… Your best friends, your trusted blood-brothers… Trust no one but you. Confidence is a precious thing, but few people deserve it; so few people that it is unsure to allow the smallest bit of confidence to the closest of your friends. What was the Borjigin clan was cut in pieces. We are the remnants of what your father Yesükhei had built with his own hands until he put his trust foolishly in the Tatars… Despite the honor that they given by being trusted by a Mongol chieftain, these Tatars didn’t care about poisoning him. Life holds many secrets in its hands. Think about it, my son. The human is a strange creature… Most of them rally themselves into tribes. They drink, laugh, eat together. But, when comes the times of the awaited allegiance, these men betray, lie, cheat, steal together. The humans are able to do the greatest things as they are able to do the worst acts.

What the Mongol tribes need is a single link… a common thing between themselves that will bind them together. The human nature cannot be changed, Temüjin… It can be changed, but only for a little period of time. There will always be traitors, liars, cheaters, murderers… As long as there will be humans there will be wars… I think that you know what I mean…”

Temüjin’s mother taught her son many things about life, politics and about himself. Temüjin learned how to discover his own strengths, his own ideas about important matters. Everyone thinks differently… The goal of a leader is to make them think the same think, to regroup them into a single movement.

“One day, you will see the sea, my son.Yes… the sea. Few of us know what it is… few of us know how vast it is… It is even larger than the lands on which you step on today. Legends from the East say that the wind make the water move. The winds make waves… The waves keep hitting repetitively on the shores… The only thing that the waves do is that they erode the stones. Sometimes, when all of these waves unite together, they give gigantic waves. These waves crush everything in their path… Merciless, these waves are unstoppable. A single wave is innocent, but hundreds of waves regrouped together are deadly. Think about this metaphor, Temüjin. Thousands of Mongols united together could destroy once and for all the Tatars… forever!”

Hoelun was rarely wrong with her lessons about politics. She understood how the world worked, how people thought, and she had an advanced way of thinking for the epoch. She knew a lot of things, but she wanted to teach them to her son. She wanted to protect her son as much as she could while she still had the opportunity to protect him. In the Mongol society, the women had an important place in the society. The Mongols were Nomads. Because of the harsh and difficult climatic conditions, the Mongols had a difficult life. They couldn’t be really rich, as the only things they could bring with them were the few riches that they possessed, their goats and the rest of their livestock. The nomadism wasn’t a really complex thing. They needed a social organization and structure. They couldn’t build cities, as a tribe alone couldn’t build a sure city by itself. The Mongols were lacking of manpower and of wealth. The natural ressources and the technology of Mongolia available at this time weren’t sufficiently numerous and developped to allow the construction of a sedentary town. Living of what they can find, the tribes never thought about allying themselves to form a powerful nation.

***

One day, the clan was out of food. Temüjin then decided to steal some goats to an enemy clan. With the favour of night, Temüjin succeeded to infiltrate the clan. Suddenly, he saw someone close to him. Really close… He took a wooden stick and knocked the guard out. Unfortunately, another guard was nearby. He gave the alarm and ran after Temüjin. The 15 years old teenager didn’t run fast enough though… A rock reached his head and he fell down, unconscious.

Later, he woke up. He had a wooden collar around his neck. The weight of this thing was horribly hurting Temüjin’s shoulders… He looked around like a lost child looking for his mother. He knew that he was taken prisoner… He just wondered how he could escape from this situation… He thought about multiple plans during all the days…

“If I could only hit my head on a metal thing maybe I could break this wooden collar… But then, the chain will still be holding me…”

“Okay… I think I am going to call one of my guards to give me some water… maybe that with a bit of luck I will be able to knock him off… But then, the other guards will be after me and will probably kill me… the Mongols rarely take prisoners…”

Suddenly, he realized something that he didn’t realize before… He looked at the faces of the guards. These tern and tired faces… they looked quite familiar… Suddenly, everything came back to Temüjin… He remembered… Pictures of the men of his tribes deserting him when he was 9 years old… He remembered the scornful faces… the grim and mocking smiles… The whispers amongst the tribesmen… He was captured by the Borjigin who deserted him 6 years ago!!! He easily recognized the shaman with his rinkled hooked nose… He recognized Munglik and his sons who were once his friends… He remembered the shame he felt when his tribe laughed at him… Then, he felt alone, abandoned… He felt abandoned by his father… He felt a freezing wind tormenting his soul… He felt his body shake, he had a feverish glance in his eyes… He knew for the first time what “treason” could cause to someone’s soul. It nearly made him become mad, foolish… Fortunately, his mother was here to guide him to the right path. But, this time, he was the prisoner of what was once his own tribe…

Chapter III

After hours and hours, Temüjin began to waver… The night seemed terrifying… His back was beginning to hurt greatly. The tribe didn’t even feed him! During the night, someone came to see him. This man was Munglik, one of his father’s friends. He crawled to him and whispered:

“Chht! Don’t speak. I come to save you, young Temüjin. They’re going to execute you tomorrow. Stay calm and do what I tell you to do. I remember the glorious days that we our clan had during your father’s time. The tribe has never been so well before your father’s reign. The tribe loved him a lot. He took care of us, he made some alliances to make us eat when the times were hard… He always ate the last, as if he knew that he had to take care of the clan. He always thought that being a chief means that the clan is under your responsibility. Your father made a wonderful work when he was alive. I am sure that you will be even better than him. I want to free you, future Khan.”

Munglik broke the chain with a little blacksmith’s hammer. He also broke the wooden collar with the help of 2 of his sons who came to help after a strident whistle. They broke the wooden collar and gave Temüjin his horse that they found farther. After some minutes, Munglik gave the alert to the clan. After all, he couldn’t show that he had freed the prisoner! In fact, the tribe’s name was the Taichi’ut tribe. Some of the clan members of the ancient Borjigin clan had joined the Taichi’ut tribe. So, Temüjin was wrong… his own tribe didn’t take him as a prisoner… Some of the tribe members preferred to join other more powerful clans, like the Taichi’ut.

Munglik succeeded to make the tribe hold up the search until daylight, which gave Temüjin enough time to flee. He rose silently and finally reached his camp. While he was escaping, he thought about Munglik and his sons who helped him… He wouldn’t forget what they had done for him… never.

***

When he arrived at the camp, Hoelun was about to dance her joy and her happiness. She still never forgot how coldly Temüjin had killed his half-brother for a ridiculous purpose… Temüjin had now only one purpose in mind: protecting himself and his tribe.

***
Chapter IV

At the age of 16, Temüjin began to make allies, as his mother carefully taught him. He began to understand the harsh political climate in Mongolia and had his own way of interpreting ways of uniting the numerous tribes. Already a skilled archer, horseman and raider with a strong sense of loyalty to those who rode with him, Temujin attracted a small following of Mongol warriors. As a descendant of a royal bloodline of the Borjigin clan, he considered himself an aristocrat of the steppes. But for now, his goal was to avenge his father’s death. New warriors joined the tribe, as its population began to grow up. There were now enough people in the clan to call this a “real” tribe. The tribe was organized, as the Borjigin were before. There was now food for everyone, as trading was pretty much the only way of having weapons and food. Temüjin had trusted warriors in his clan, as Borchu, Jelme, Chilaun, Chimbe, and Belgutei … And, of course, his trusted friend Nevniz. Nevniz succeeded to have, with a lot of luck though, a samurai sword. It was probably the richest thing he ever had.

Borchu was a tall man and a friend since childhood of Temüjin. He wasn’t a great warrior, but he was an excellent organizer. He had a sense of deduction that greatly helped Temüjin in the past. He was able to sneak pretty much anywhere without being caught. One day, the Tatars stole some horses that belonged to Temüjin’s clan. With the help of Borchu, he could bring back to the stolen horses to his camp. He was a simple man, devoid of stupidity… He was a trustful man, someone in which you could put your confidence in. He wasn’t as muscular as some warriors in Temüjin’s clan, but he knew how to use a bow nearly as precisely as Temüjin. He was tall and a little bit fat (meaning that he was a bit fat compared to the slim and stocky Mongols). He had a little fluffy moustache, which gave him a little comic look. We will come back on the other famous warriors later on.

One day, Temüjin decided that he had to marry Börte. He rode to meet the Konkirat tribe. He met his father-in-law, which warmly greeted him. The marriage finally took place in the Konkirat encampment. The details of the married woman's costume are interesting and significant. Costumes and ornaments of married women in the western, central, and eastern parts of the country differed from each other. The wives wore an "uuji" (something like a long waistcoat without sleeves) over the traditional del. Women from western Mongolia had the privilege of having a large white collar on the del and their costumes were very free and loose. But the women of central and eastern Mongolia wore a del with high shoulders and the collar and sleeves were decorated with intricate designs. Great attention was paid to the ornamentation of the head-dress. In the older days it was believed that the hairstyle should resemble the wings of an eagle. Women wore their hair smoothly combed back.

The feast wasn’t luxurious, but it was better than nothing, as the food directly came from the Konkirats’ winter reserves. As a dowry, the groom (Temüjin) was given a black sable coat, which was to prove the foundation of his fortune. He drank with his new father-in-law. Then, the Konkirat chieftain got up on the table and said: “I now offer my daughter Börte to my new son-in-law, Borjigin Temüjin. Will you accept her?”

Temüjin gratefully said: “Yes I will take her as my wife. I am happy that you put your trust in me.”

The 2 chieftains hugged each other warmly and wondered where was Börte. She wasn’t at the feast! Where was she? The bride ran off to hide with relatives, it seemed. The Konkirat chief said to Temüjin to take her wherever she may be hiding. Temüjin and his friends mounted their horses. They finally found her and took her back to the groom’s tent in a mock show of force. Temüjin then consumed the marriage. Mongol men had as many wives as they could keep. The early Mongols did not marry within their tribe, but often resorted to kidnapping a woman from a neighboring tribe in order to get a wife. This practice of "wifenapping" led to a number of inter-clan wars on the steppe.

***

Chapter V

Temüjin became a wise man with the time passing. He wanted to be more powerful, but for that, he needed protectors and allies… He needed the help of someone stronger… He found what he was looking for from the mouth of a Nevniz and other Mongol scouts reporting:

“Great Temüjin… I have interesting news for you. People from the Kerait tribe told me that an emissary of Jin Emperor Changzong (a Chinese Emperor of the Jin dynasty) had recently arrived in Mongolia to visit Toghrul Khan, the chief of the Kerait tribe. Toghrul might be a potential ally for our tribe, great one. I know that you always take the right decisions, but I dare to suggest that we should invite the emissary to pay us a visit.”

Temüjin accepted and an invitation was sent to the emissary. The emissary was probably eager to see what was going on in the Northern steppes… These regions were unexplored and unknown (probably insufficiently documented) from China, and it would be a great deal to make some alliances. The Chinese guest came to the camp, escorted with several well-armed warriors. Temüjin and him talked for hours about politics and the actual situation of the Chinese Empire.

“-China is having problems, Lord Temüjin. Grave matters are going on. A powerful Tatar tribe mounted a campaign against its highness the Jin Emperor Changzong. We requested help from a powerful Mongol tribe… What’s its name already? Ah! Yes… (he scratched his chin) the Kerait tribe. Their leader Toghrul promised to help us against the Tatars. They will provide us assistance.
-You are my guest, dear one, and I shall treat you with respect. May I expect from your mouth some informations about Toghrul?
-Sure, noble one.”

The Chinese emissary took a deep breath before commencing.

-“Toghrul is the leader of the Kerait tribe. His territory is pretty large… He possesses a large area between the Onon river and the Northern border of our Empire. He is the vassal of our good Emperor.
-Thank you for your informations. You may return to China. I want to meet this “Toghrul” Khan by myself.”

The Chinese guest left slowly the ger and rode back to China. Deep in his soul, he knew that all of this was a tactic used by his people since a long time. The strategy was simple but efficient: Making the tribes fight between themselves.

***

Temüjin decided to meet Toghrul by himself. An alliance would be really useful with such a powerful clan! When Temüjin arrived to Toghrul’s encampment, he offered him his luxurious black sable coat that was part of his wife's dowry and a modest string of victories. Toghrul was the blood-brother of Yesükhei, and a loyal ally. He was tall and muscular. He had a long spear which probably inflicted several times deadly blows to the ones who faced Toghrul. He agreed to protect the son of his blood-brother. He was also a close friend. He also promised to help Temüjin reunite the clans who left him when his father died. He also swore to help Temüjin to exterminate the Tatars.

Though, the Merkit tribe had already learned of Temüjin’s marriage to Börte. Eager for revenge, the Merkit Mongols remembered the day when Yesükhei Bahadur had stolen one of their most beautiful wives… to take her as a bride. It was time for vengeance…

***

By a foggy day, Hoelun’s servant was picking berries in bushes nearby the encampment. Suddenly, he heard a strange sound. The noise approached rapidly. The servant gazed at the horizon and saw some black dots… The servant heard a sound which Mongols are used to hear a lot… It was a rumble. The rumble of hooves… The servant heard the thunder of hoofbeats of at least 300 Merkit horses! The servant ran as fast as his legs could carry him. He reached the encampment and yelled “Temüjin! The Merkits are here! Run!” But, it was too late for the servant to save his own life… An arrow went through his throat…

Temüjin ran to the horses. He mounted his horse and fled from the camp. He dared to give a little worried look back. He saw his friend Nevniz fighting for his life with his samurai sword… He needed to find help! 50 Merkits rode after him. Their horses were tired of the ride to the encampment and weren’t as fast as Temüjin’s one. The horse rode as if the wind carried him, like an arrow whistling. The horse neighed furiously as it rode through the cold steppes of Mongolia. But, the Merkits abandoned the chase. Some arrows whistled around Temüjin and missed him from an inch. Finally, the Merkits left the encampment as rapidly as they attacked it. Temüjin came back from the Kentai Mountains to the encampment and looked at the disaster that just had happened. Most of his warriors were still alive. Nevniz had an arrow stuck in his armor, but he was fine… At least, he was alive. Though, even if they let Temüjin run away, the Merkits had stolen several wives of the clan… Börte Chono was among the number of the “disappeared” women… Then, Temüjin’s blood boiled. He ordered some of his trusted men like Borchu, Jelme, and Belgutei to follow him. Nevniz needed rest… Finally, as angry as a demon, Temüjin asked his protector Toghrul and the leader of an allied tribe named Jamuka to help him. From the Jadirat tribe, a sub-tribe of the Kerait, Jamuka was a childhood friend to Temüjin and also his “anda”, his blood-brother. Jamuka was a good leader and a skilled warrior.

When he arrived to Jamuka’s encampment, his “anda’s” warriors immediatly rallied themselves, mounted their horses, readied their bows and took up their swords from the weapon racks. The warriors formed up a long column and rode to find Toghrul and his Kerait warriors. When they arrived, Toghrul rallied more riders than Temüjin had expected! He was indeed a powerful clan lord. Toghrul came to meet Temüjin with a large smile painted on his stern face. The column rode until it reached Temüjin’s encampment. Then, Nevniz was still unable to fight… The rest of Temüjin’s clan warriors came to join the column of warriors. A scout was sent to see where the Merkits had gone. Finally, the clan appeared to be unprepared for an assault. Though, there weren’t as much soldiers as Temüjin had guessed… Then, Temüjin decided to make a plan. He said:

-“Jamuka, my anda, my blood-brother… You will post your men in the forest near the encampment. I want discretion from ur men. May I count on you?
-Yes, Temüjin. When will I attack?
-You must take the encampment by surprise… I want you to attack only when I will sound that horn (Temüjin showed an old horn with strange and mystical runes adorning it), not before. Your goal is to make a surprise-attack. Understood, my friend?
-Yes, brother.
-All right. Lord Toghrul, I would like your men to attack from their left flank. But, only when I will sound the horn. Jamuka will attack on the second horn sound. My plan is that my men, some men of Toghrul, and I will drive the enemy from their encampment. We will make their formation split and then, you will attack their poorly defended encampment. When my group will drive the Merkits far enough, I will sound the horn to make Jamuka come to take the Merkits by behind. I firmly believe that you can spare some of your soldiers… I need some more men, amd you have a lot of warriors.
-You have my support, young warrior. You have a great sense of deduction and a great strategic talent. The thing that you will now live today will determine if you are a worthy warrior. You will face real warriors. I know that you will be badly outnumbered by the Merkits… So, it is your task to find a tactic to save the lives of your men. If you pass through this hardship, you will have begun what may become a great political career. I will meet you on the battlefield.”

Toghrul rapidly hastily mounted his horse and rallied most of his men, leaving some men as a reserve for Temüjin. Jamuka shook hands with Temüjin and met up with his men. Then, he rode in the mist through the forest of pines, which was located at the right of the encampment. Temüjin was surprised to see his friend Nevniz, coming with his now famous samurai sword. His armour was bloody with the combat during the ambush at Temüjin’s encampment. It stinked badly with the dry black blood covering it. The friends hugged each other warmly, knowing that they could count on each other whatever happened. That was true friendship…

***
Chapter VI

Temüjin’s group advanced through the steppes with a remarkable speed. The hooves hammered the ground, making wreaths grass fly behind the charging riders. Nevniz was riding next to Temüjin, holding an arrow ready to be shot in his bow. The charging warriors reacted at the order “AIM!!!”, and then didn’t need to wait for the order “RELEASE!!!”. A volley of arrows fell in the camp. Some guards who were defending the encampment fell down, pierced by the deadly arrows. The Merkits sent a horde of riders after Temüjin nearly 3 times as big as Temüjin’s men. Temüjin’s men then turned back, and with an excellent manoeuvre, succeeded to take some advance over the roaring horde. A warrior fell next to Temüjin, killed by a javelin thrown by a Merkit warrior. The grace of combat was still there though. Temüjin’s men took their bows, turned back (their horses were still riding away from the Merkits… their tactic is equivalent to the Parthian horse archers) and released a little volley into the charging Merkits. Then, the order was “everyone for himself”. The riders turned back with their horses to meet the Merkits. His samurai sword shining in the steppes, Nevniz cut a Merkit’s arm like soft butter… Temüjin charged at a Merkit strong warrior. His horse neighed with a bit of panic and charged as fast as it could to meet the enemy. Temüjin took his sword and clashed with the warrior. His hits were rapid and furious while his opponent’s hits were slow and powerful. Finally, Temüjin succeeded to avoid him, drew up his bow, and shot him down. Then, he took his horn and blew in it.

The veins of his neck fluttered as the horn produced the sound of a dying mighty beast. Toghrul then heard the horn’s complaint, as its sound reached his ears. The mounted warriors charged in the encampment and slaughtered most of the guards quite easily. The men then began to steal, to pillage, to rob anything they could find interesting. Toghrul respectfully and galantly invited Börte to come with him on his horse. She gratefully accepted. The other women of Temüjin’s clan also accepted to follow the riders. While, the horn had sounded a second time. But, Jamuka didn’t show up. Temüjin wondered: “What is doing Jamuka? I need his help!”

Deep in the pine forest, Jamuka and his men were fighting. Merkits had planned to take by behind Temüjin’s men by the forest. But, they had met with enemy forces (Jamuka’s men). With his sword, Jamuka had killed several skilled warriors who dared to clash with him. His men were like demons in the darkness. There were few rays of light who could penetrate through the thick roof of pines… The 2 armies were facing each other, but no one really saw where he was going. Hidden deep in the darkness, a slaughter was going on.

Toghrul, on his side, saw the Jamuka didn’t arrive like he promised. So, he rallied his men and rode to meet Temüjin. With a great heroic charge, Temüjin and Toghrul succeeded to push back the Merkits! The Merkits’ formation broke, as they ran to their encampment. Though, the encampment was “womenless”… Toghrul’s men couldn’t resist to steal some women in the encampment. When Temüjin and the Keraits reached the forest, they saw with joy that Jamuka and his men had won a crushing victory. Merkits were lying down everywhere in the woods… The attack was a success.

***

Now, at last, Temüjin had made himself a reputation. The success at the battle against the Merkits was related from tribe to tribe, until all of Mongolia knew about the tremendous victory of Borjigin Temüjin.

His success against the Merkits marked him as a major "player" in the tangled and bloody politics of the Mongolian steppes. His daring and charisma drew followers from throughout the region. They saw him as the ideal steppe warrior, the best man to lead them. Despite his own rapidly growing prestige and authority he took care not to betray his allies. Instead, he concentrated on destroying his family's long-time enemies, the Tatars. In alliance with the Kerait and with the support of the Jin, Temüjin could accomplish what his ancestors couldn’t realize after years of war.

Now, it was time for vengeance. The Tatars dared to kill a single Mongol chieftain like cowards… But, an army of furious Mongols would soon make the earthquake of the Mongol horde’s might become the most terrible scourge in the world!

***

Temüjin was sitting on an animal skin in his ger (yurt). His legs were crossed, and his once tender eyes were closed. Temüjin now had a hard heart, a strong will… He had passed successfully through the ordeal that allowed him to be a great man. He now had a rough beard, as he began to become an adult. He already had a great sense of responsibilities. All he needed now was experience. Temüjin had a severe look on his face… He thought about what had happened after Börte’s liberation… When he came to hug her, he saw that her belly was a bit bigger than usual. Really bigger… He touched her belly, and stepped back with an incredulous and unsympathetic glare: Börte was pregnant… Weeks had passed since she was kidnapped! Months! To rally Toghrul’s and Jamuka’s men, it took months! Though, her son was born suspiciously a bit after she was delivered. Jochi was his name. He accepted him as his own first son, even if a doubt confused his mind…

***

The Mongol warriors were about to realize one of their greatest ambitions… They were about to avenge their dead fathers, grandfathers, and all of their ancestors… The Tatars needed to be exterminated… The Mongols rode, as fast as the wind, through the smoke, the fire of the burning yurts, through the screams of women, through the cries of panicked children, through the clashes of battle… The Hordes from the hell were just about to be born…

To be born through the chaos of war…

-End of Part 1-

Part II
The Unification of the Wolves

Chapter 1
https://img75.imageshack.us/img75/3783/mongols27ws.jpg

Far in the Mongolian steppes, Targutaï was riding with his bodyguards. Warlord of the Taichi’ut tribe, Targutaï had become a powerful warlord… More than 30. 000 tents were in his Urdu (his tribe), which meant that his army was a huge one. Ancient enemy of Temüjin, Targutaï was an ambitious man. The tribes that couldn’t or didn’t want to join him were brutally slaughtered… The warriors in his army were proud and were even more devastating than an earthquake. Targutaï was practicing with his army his tactics. Trotting in front of his warriors, he glared at them with an impetuous air. He looked at the banners of the glorious Taichi’ut clan, floating gently in the violent wind. He drew up his sword and rode towards a nomad encampment. His army followed him noisily. He ordered his officers to blow in their horns. Some kind of blaring… the nomads ran away from their chariots, yurts and what belonged to them… The Taichi’uts charged savagely. A Mongol nomad turned back to see what was happening, but he was tore apart as he tried to reach his horse. Noises and screams broke the silence of the steppes… For Targutaï, this was just nothing more but a daily exercise for his army… He laughed loudly and rallied his men. This day, the plunder would be great!

***

Far from the carnages going in the steppes, Temüjin had become an accomplished warlord. He led his tribe to many victories over the Tatars and rival Mongol tribes… His men considered him as a generous man who always gave what he had to others in need of anything… He gave the horse he rode the day before, he gave the clothes he wore to others, he gave the food he had in reserve to the starving people… He was a protector. His people loved him, sure that their warlord could do everything in his power to help his people to survive. Many tribes had joined our hero. Many people sought refuge… Though, the warlord knew who could be a useful and someone who was too risky to trust… His alliance with his sworn brother, his “Anda”, Jamuka, was beneficial to both camps. The 13.000 tents in Temïjin’s urdu were numerous, and filled with brave warriors, trusted friends… His warriors were the best of Mongolia! Temüjin had introduced a new “art of warfare” to Mongolia… He had brought modernism to his troops.

The military organization was simple, but effective. The organization was based on an old tradition of the steppe, which was like today’s decimal system: the army was built upon a squad of ten, called an "arban"; ten "arbans" constituted a company of a hundred, called a "jaghun". Ten "jaghuns" made a regiment of a thousand – "mingghan". Ten "mingghans" would then constitute a regiment of ten thousand ("tumen"), which is the equivalent of a modern division. Temüjin divided his 13.000 warriors in 13 mingghans. Each mingghan was made with people coming from the same region, from the same family… Each mingghan wanted to be better than the other mingghan. It was some kind of competition. Temüjin organized “war games”. Each mingghan had to attack another one by flanking, breaking their formations… Each mingghan had to prove its valour, as the honour of the “family” was in play. A defeat would mean dishonour… which was terrible for any living Mongol. It was a matter of teamwork. Each mingghan acted as if it was one single warrior. The “regiments” and the “military organization” were born in Mongolia. Some say that Temüjin took as a model the Chinese warfare, but sources are uncertain. Each mingghan surpassed itself after each game, as their opponents were more and more experienced. All males aged between 15 and 60 years old could join the Mongol army… The fraternity between each mingghan in battle was… unbreakable. But, during the “games of war”, Temüjin had sometimes to order his men to stop before the “friendly” combats degenerate… as sometimes the instinct of the warrior was stronger than an iron discipline…

…

One day, Hoelun and Börte decided to talk to Temüjin about a sensible subject… his alliance with Jamuka.
-“These alliances will shift one day or another, my son. Jamuka is an ambitious man, you know it…
-Mother… I know that Jamuka can betray me. But this day, I will be ready then. I don’t sleep without my sword, I never travel alone in the steppes, I always have spies everywhere that gather information about all the territories of the steppes… If Jamuka only thinks that he can take me down of my horse, that he can make me drop my sword, I’ll have 10 times the time to attack him before… If I am attacked, my ally Toghrul will surely help me. The numerous campaigns we fought together made us become close friends and allies! His tribe is one of the most powerful tribe of the steppes… He wouldn’t betray me, I’m sure of it…
-Maybe not him… but another will… Remember of your father Yesükhei…”

Temüjin wasn’t sure about Jamuka’s intentions, as he began to make, strangely, lots of alliances with the nearby tribes… His tribe grew more and more powerful by each month passing by… A doubt was troubling the warlord… a dangerous doubt…

***

Targutaï was drinking, like he often did. He was in a good mood, today. The massacre of other weaker tribes had made himself become a powerful and feared leader… He had influence, at last! He took a sap and threw his cup away. A man called him, telling him that a rider came back, exhausted, from a reconnaissance mission.

His light armour was tinted with red and his right arm was broken. Targutaï asked him:
“-Where has gone the rest of your men, Messoq? How could experienced men such as yours get lost in the steppes?
-The rest of my men are dead, great chief… We have been ambushed by a tribe I’ve never heard of… I remember that there was a man with a strange sword… a really strange one… This man fought like a demon! Also, it seems that the leader of this tribe is called Tim… Tom… Temüchang…
-Temüjin, I guess…
-You are surely right, great one… (the men hesitated) I… I think that we should…
-I don’t care of what you think, wimp! Go make some training! I don’t want you to fail me ever again! We will avenge this act… Even if we were in Temüjin’s territory, it didn’t give him the right to attack me! I will show him what Targutaï is made of! Rally the men, Brechem!”

A guard hastily saluted his chief and sounded a horn. Warriors ran from their yurts and mounted their horses. They readied their bows, sharpened their arrows, swinged their swords at the wind… Several minutes after, the whole army was ready to follow their leader. Targutaï screamed with his men some war chants as the 30.000 men rode through the desertic steppes to meet the foe of their new enemy.

***

Temüjin was screaming with anger! He looked at his old friend Nevniz… Nevniz, standing as if he wanted to run away, was sadly looking at his friend with an impassive face. He knew that he had to stay and to endure Temüjin’s anger. In fact, he deserved it…
-“How could you dare to attack a potential ally! Targutaï is a powerful leader… we will have to feel his wrath, my friend! His troops are far more numerous than ours! How could you do such a thing!
-I wanted to defend our territory, my friend… I…”

Nevniz’ last attempt to defend himself vanished with a long sigh… After all, because of him, a war… a terrible war… Nevniz glared at his friend with a desperate look… He turned back and left the chieftain’s yurt.

***

Temüjin’s scouts rapidly came to find their leader… Targutaï was riding to meet the Borjigin leader…Temüjin, like each of his men, prepared himself for the battle. He fixed the leather carapace on his horse, he adjusted his helmet, he tightened his bow string, he sharpened his spear… Temüjin kissed Börte, his beloved wife, before he mounted his horse and rallied his mingghans. In the nomadic warfare, when an urdu was attacked, some men fought the soldiers while others attacked the encampment. But, Temüjin decided to change this “art of war”. He ordered his men to form a “circular” fortress with the chariots. He ordered the women and the whole tribe to take bows, stones, and weapons to defend the encampment while Temüjin drives back the attackers. The Mongol pride was a vital element in Temüjin’s plan. If even the peasants could fight, how could the soldiers do worst? Nevniz and his mingghan rode to meet the scouts of Targutaï and the scouts rapidly rode back to the main army. To the right of Targutaï’s army was the encampment of Temüjin. At the center were Temüjin and his soldiers. To the left of the warlord were deep woods where any cavalry manoeuvre couldn’t be decently done.

The horrible flag of the Taichi’ut was seen to the horizon. The light-armoured Taichi’uts were quite numerous… too much… Temüjin’s heavily armoured troops were the first Mongols to use heavy armours. Mongols relied on surprise and rapidity during a war. Attackers come, steal, and run after like vulgar thieves. Though, Temüjin’s spies had done a marvelous work. Temüjin chose wisely his battleground, allowing him to do his newly made tactics. Temüjin’s mingghans were positioned in a single line. Each mingghan was 100-men wide and 10-men deep, which was a solid and ordered formation. Temüjin held firmly in his grasp his spear. Nevniz, hidden in the compact mass of men, was already aiming at the skirmishers coming. Horsemen with javelins and bows rode savagely to weaken the ranks. Though, the Mongols under Temüjin’s banner, the 9 black tails of the yak, stood firm. They aimed with their bows at the skirmishers, riding with a remarkable rapidity. Some arrows fell in the mingghans, but an adjusted volley from the defenders precisely hit the attackers. Some riders fell of their horses, others crashed on the hard ground, looking desperately at their dying horse. The stable position of the defenders allowed them to do an effective counter attack. Fortunately, the skirmishers rode back faster than usual, allowing them far less time than usual to weaken the enemy. Several Taichi’uts rode back to the main army, but Temüjin ordered his mingghans to attack. “Remember what I’ve taught you, warriors! Show them how to fight!”

The men cheered as they charged at the surprised enemy. The Taichi’ut line was 5-men deep but too much extended. The shock was terrible, as riders from both sides fell of their horses, others chopped their opponent’s head… while others savagely killed their enemies’ horses with their long spears. Temüjin’s men had an advantage as their formation was deeper. Usually, after the first contact, a large melee follows the skirmish battle. But in this case, Temüjin’s men wouldn’t be numerous enough to drive their enemies back. Instead, the mingghans, with a remarkable organization, kept charging at the regrouping enemies. The goals of the mingghans was simple: striking at the rally points. Several enemy formations then broke and fled to their homeland. Nevniz slashed and slashed with his blade, as if he knew that he had to do more than everyone on the battlefield… he had a debt of honor, and all of this was probably not his fault… but for Nevniz, it was a matter of honor. The light armours of the Taichi’uts were no match for Temüjin’s heavily armoured men. The swords hit the iron plates of Temüjin’s men’s cuirasses… but in vain. During the melee, Temüjin felt a sharp pain in his neck. He kept fighting. Suddenly, an arrow went through his horse’s head. He fell of his horse, hearing the distinct crash of his body on the hard soil. All of this happened while he saw the carnage going around him. The brave Jelme, who had seen the scene, saw, Temüjin falling of his horse. Blood ran wild from his neck… An arrow had scratched his throat. Jelme went down of his horse, slammed his shield into a Taichi’ut’s arm, fought his way to Temüjin… and brought him near his mingghan. He ordered his men to pursue the enemy, but he also ordered some men to stay with him and to protect Temüjin whatever happened. Jelme, full of anxieties, sucked blood from Temüjin’s neck, fearing that there might have been poison on the arrow. The face covered with blood, Jelme succeeded to put a clean cloth on his beloved leader’s wound. Jelme rode back to the battle, proud that he could have saved his leader.

Though, Temüjin’s army had suffered casualties too. Targutaï sent desperately his last men to help his army, but he saw the huge wave of men riding away… It had become a disastrous campaign… Usually, after the skirmish, the skirmishers had to attack the enemy encampment as their troops attacked the main army. The first who reached the camp would be the ones who would plunder the most… The skirmishers then charged to the encampment, but they were surprised to see that women, children and other men sent arrows to them instead of running away… Some riders screamed and fell of their horses, but others decided to win their prize whatever happened… The tribesmen defended their encampment with the strength of despair, and they held well. With Temüjin’s wise teaching, the mingghans were independent from each other. Having seen that the encampment was attacked, a nearby mingghan cut down by the rear the plunderers… The issue of the fight was really determined when Targutaï, the once powerful warlord, was captured.

***

Nevniz angrily slashed the dead bodies with his shining sabre… He thrust his sword in a mutilated body, swearing as loud as he could. Even if the Taichi’ut casualties were evaluated to 6000 men killed and 70 important leaders (and Targutaï) captured, Nevniz was aware that this clear victory had led to many deaths…

Temüjin woke up in his tent, surrounded by his friends and chiefs. Temüjin was savouring the taste of victory. He ordered the 70 leaders to be executed; Targutaï the first. After, he thanked warmly Jelme for having saved his life. He also forgave Nevniz, even if his friend was crying with anger and joy at the same time. Suddenly, guards asked for their Khan to go into his tent. With the permission granted, 2 guards entered the tent with a prisoner. The prisoner wasn’t tied… “He came to the camp by himself… telling that he wanted to see you, great one.”

-“Let him come…” Temüjin answered.
The man said: “My name is Jirghataï… I am from the Issut tribe… I have killed your horse, great Temüjin. With my bow… I will not lie to you, great one. I killed your horse and I implore you to let me join your army… Please… Let me have the honour of serving your noble cause… even if I was your enemy. For you, I will break rocks who stand in your path until they become sand…”

Temüjin stared at him, and said: “You are not an enemy, Jirghataï… You are a noble one… And for this, I will spare your life. I will even let you take command of one of my minnghans… If an enemy wants to kill someone, he conceals his intention. You told me the truth… And I see that you are an accomplished warrior. I will name you “Jebe”, the “Arrow” of my clan.” (Jebe means arrow… as Jirghataï killed Temüjin’s horse with an arrow)

Munglik, the man who saved Temüjin from the Tatars when he was captured, was amongst the tribe, now. He came with his sons to join Temüjin. He was glad to see his old friend. Munglik decided to marry Hoelun in honour of Yesükhei. Like that, Hoelun could be a respected member of the tribe.

Soon after, Temüjin has been made Khan of his tribe. Munglik suggested the tribe to elect him as their Khan… Toghrul, when he heard this, said: “At last, the Mongols are wise… They elected Temüjin as their Khan. This tribe really needed a leader like him.” Temüjin, on his side, decided to send spies everywhere to gather as much intelligence and information as he could. A day, Temüjin learned that a Chinese emissary reached the Kerait clan. Toghrul has been made Wang-Khan, or Ong-Khan (Wang means “prince”.) Temüjin mounted rapidly his horse and rode to the Kerait encampment. When he reached the encampment, the emissary was still there. “It is time to make the Chinese notice who is Temüjin Khan…”

The Fate of the Archangel

Book 1

Royal library of Nel Parmeo

Index of the known world

Faction: Espega

Sources: Expeditions of Arogonor of Mawër and Iassur Marfil

Discovery:

According to the annals of the great library, the sacred texts mention Espega, a “city above the clouds”. An exploration from Arogonor of Mawër in 4213 revealed the existence of that huge city high above Mount Kohrill, the Center of the known world. Arogonor mentioned that the access to the city is granted by guards with silver winged helmets of the second of the 3 peaks of Mount Korhrill. To access the city, he went through kilometres and kilometres of stairs before he reached the Magic gates of a city called “Espega”. Though, the guards of the city didn’t allow him to go into the city. Arogonor came back to Nel Parmeo with some informations confirming the existence of this city called “Espega”. Later, in 4341, Iassur Marfil, another explorer, succeeded to enter the city. Though, he succeeded to come back to Nel Parmeo with precious informations.

Known cities:

Espega, a large city hidden from the eyes of any living man. There aren’t enough informations about this mysterious city.

People:

The Espegans are, according to Iassur Marfil, some humanoid mages. The Espegans are proud people, and have a long life. Few diseases affect them. Most of them have white hair and grey eyes. People of Alchemists, the Espegans study the strength of Magic and drain energy from a mysterious thing to some unknown purposes…

Military History:

The Espegans have never set foot on the lands of our Parmeonian Kingdom. Iassur says that the Espegans have a City Guard, a Praetoria as a permanent army. Due to the lack of informations, the Scientists do not know much about the Espegan military power.

Espegan History:

Before Iassur Marfil left Espega, he stole some precious texts about the Espegan history. During the year 167, Aergios the Silvered founds Espega. The leader was a supremely powerful wizard. With his magic, he would have created Mount Kohrill to elevate his city to the rank of City of the Gods. Espega is probably the most ancient city that our texts have ever recorded. With his magic, Aergios would have created magic walls to protect his city and the Fortress of Eolus. Though, during the year 549, a war between the Espegans wizards and an unknown people exploded. The Espegan victory was great, as the Espegans began to create an expeditionary army to protect the Espegan Republic. The 5th day after the year 756, an Espegan Lord called Xarzas waged war against the Barbarians Kingdoms of the North. The powerful Espegan army would have taken a whole week only to rally all their soldiers outside their city. The Espegan army attacked in the Icy Mountains, the Barbarian’s territory, which resulted of the Barbarians’ defeat. The Espegans besieged the Barbarian capital during 10 years (the name of the city is unknown). Constant attacks of the Barbarians had greatly weakened the Espegan army, so they decided to attack the city with all their soldiers. The city crumbled and the Espegans razed everything. Though, other Barbarians, led by a warlord called in the Espegan documents “Lonir of the White Hammer” arrived by the North to fight the Espegans with a small army. For an unknown reason, the Barbarians slaughtered nearly all of the Espegan army and Xarzas himself with a terrible violence. The survivors managed to reach Espega alive through the snows of the Icy Mountains. There ended the power Xarzas and the Espegans. Sources say barely nothing after the year 954, when a terrible and obscure illness killed half of the Espegan population. The Espegans never left their city, fearing for their beloved city. The defeat of Xarzas ended the ambitions of the Espegans. The last major known event was during the year 4341 when Iassur came back from Espega. He said that when he made the last step down the mountain in the Stairs of Mount Kohrill, the stairs crumbled in an incredible noise. So, we are cut off from the world of Espega.

Geography:

Espega does not share any boundaries with Parmeonia. Mount Kohrill is at the center of the known world.

Politics:

The Espegans are known to have a Republican system. Their Senate of Elders include the wisest and the oldest people of Espega. There is not much known about them.

***

Faction: Parmeonia (Parmeonian Kingdom)

Sources: The Royal Vault of Nel Parmeo

Main cities:

Nel Parmeo (capital), Lessarium, Vandera, Perdica, Welzassil…

Nel Parmeo: Capital of our Kingdom, Nel Parmeo was founded in 3575 by Agnor I. Compared to Espega, our capital is really younger in appearance. Nel Parmeo has a population of 210 000 people. The huge walls defending this city are thick and are made of marble. Nel Parmeo’s citadel, the Agnorian Citadel (named in the honor of our founder), never fell, like the walls of our city. The city was built on a hill, which gave the inhabitants of Nel Parmeo a strategic advantage over any attackers. Everything of the modern Parmeonian civilization began here. In the South-East of the Parmeonian Kingdom, Nel Parmeo is the city farther from the main cities.

Lessarium: Largest city of the Kingdom, Lessarium is the oldest city of our civilization. In the North-West of the Parmeonian Kingdom, Lessarium is a huge city. Lessarium was founded by Ragnüryon. The first people of Parmeonia fought during years to gain control over this region rich in iron. Once the last native tribes were beaten, Ragnüryon decided to found this city. Lessarium has the 2nd army of Parmeonian Military Forces.

Vandera: Founded in 3765, Vandera is the most known city outside the borders of our lands. Vandera is a city hidden in the swamps in the West of our lands. Vandera is the richest city. Living of the trading of salt (a rare product), exotic plants, expensive and rare medicinal potions, and “mystior”, the best trees to make the best arrows, Vandera is a prosperous city. Guarded by the 7th army, Vandera often had to fight for their mines for their swamps, as it is their main source of salt. Vanderans evaporate the extremely salted waters of the swamps in a special machine, which gives a good salt of quality. The water is released in the swamps after. Vandera has never been conquered by other forces of the Extern World, as the swamps act as a natural barrier.

Perdica: A gigantic fortress-city near Nel Parmeo, Perdica is the main Military base of our Kingdom. The 3rd and 4th armies are in a permanent state of alert, always ready to repulse any attack from the Extern borders. This is the heart of our military power. Built by Nadir the Architect in 4120 after the disastrous War of the Eastern Tribes, Perdica saved Nel Parmeo from being constantly plundered by the Targuts…

Welzassil: To the extreme-north of our borders, Welzassil is the last Parmeonian Bastion between us and the Barbarian Kingdoms of the North. Constantly being repaired and re-built, Welzassil has been one of the few regions conquered by us during the Agnorian times (times during the foundation of our capital). With terrible casualties, Lepsyo Athol and his men succeeded to take this mountain pass and to erect a fortress there in less than 2 years. Constantly being attacked, the construction of the fortress has been difficult and costly. Though, this fortress blocks the Barbarians from further invasions of the Barbarians. Only the best men are sent there, as defending such a fortress is difficult against the savage men of the North. Though, during these last years, our King didn’t decide to restore the crumbling fortress. The fortress begins to deteriorate, and the soldiers of Welzassil are lacking of reinforcements. In Welzassil, the 5th Army fought since years and years. Constantly being modified, supplied with new men, the 5th is the oldest modern army in Parmeonia (after the Agnorian times).

Independent cities: Cities such as Jokrilla, Nefezum, and Trondforge, are in the center of the Parmeonian Kingdom, but they are not considered as Parmeonian cities. In 3872, Ajartil of Jokrilla decided to found a new faction with the ones who would follow him. Other cities rebelled, but their alliance shifted with time. The Parmeonians rapidly sent armies to defeat the rebels, but the 4th and 3rd Army were defeated (and were re-created after). A prophet came in Nel Parmeo and warned that if the Parmeonians only dared to cross the gates of one of these independent cities, a plague would ravage the Parmeonians city… And that if they even crossed the Citadel’s gates, meteors would fall from the sky to devastate the whole world… And that each soldier who would enter the Throne’s room of one of these cities would be sent to hell. The Parmeonians then decided to leave the Independent cities alone, even if they still had a doubt about the prophecy.

People:

The people of Parmeonia are humans. People have a great diversity of appearances. People have either white skin, black skin, dark white skin, tanned skin (in the regions of South)… Parmeonians are proud of their nation and any offence is sure to be answered by an army. The walls of marble of Nel Parmeo are a sign of the Parmeonians’ pride… and decadence. Marble is not the hardest material to make a wall… and a potential attack could break the walls without major problems except the Parmeonian armies.

Military History:

Armies: There are 10 Armies in the Parmeonian Kingdom. Though, the territory is large and it is difficult for the armies to cover every area. Armies are generally concentrated in cities or fortresses. The 1st Army, the Royal Army, created in 3575 (foundation of Nel Parmeo) is a permanent army garrisoned in Nel Parmeo. The leader of this army is the King himself (Polyön II) and the King’s Right Hand (honorific title. The King’s Right Hand title is given to the best Parmeonian general), Nadir Berenus. The soldiers of this army wear ancient armours, use ancient weapons of the Agnorian epoch. They use long curved blades as swords and these blades can also be used as spears. The shields are rectangular (4 times higher than the width of the shield). The helmets are generally iron helmet with 3 holes delicately curved in: 2 holes for the eyes and 1 hole for the mouth. The armours are solid and the mail coats are definitely an epic addition to the Royal Army. The 2nd army (led by Kor Lindus, a new-blood general), stationed at Lessarium, is a new army. Recently created, this army has the youngest soldiers under its banners. The soldiers of Lessarium have the finest swords, but the 2nd army is especially famous for its Paladins of the Iron Hand. The finest mounted knights are trained since their childhood to be part of the Iron Hand regiment. The 3rd and 4th armies (commanded by Narub Trenus and Satcha Beg) are stationed in the Fortress of Perdica. The finest men are in these 2 famous armies who repulsed several times incursions from the Targuts of the East. Used to fight with an oriental style, these 2 armies are often helped by the 8th, 9th and 10th Armies… These 3 other armies are armies of the Militia. Smaller armies, but these men know perfectly their territory. In case of an invasion, the Militias can take care of the attackers with their superior strategic tactics. The leader of the Militias is an old Prince named “Marfirius Agnorium”… Some say he’s a descendant of Agnor himself… The 6th Army, led by Prince Apollodrus himself, is an army of veterans. They often fight with the glorious 5th Army at Welzassil (led by Herkul Hepidros), as Prince Apollodrus’ domain is a near the Mountain pass. Finally, an army of regulars is stationed at Vandera, the 7th one.

History: There is not much known before 3575 (foundation of Nel Parmeo). Few texts mention of Ragnüryon and first people of Parmeonia, but not much. In 4115 a disastrous war between Nel Parmeo and the Eastern Tribes devastated the Parmeonian lands. The Targuts of the East. After the defeat at Lake Yuspir, the men of Perdica saved the day at the battle of Menergon Hill. After this battle, the Parmeonians decided to become a great military power. Luckily, except the Barbarian incursions to the North, there were no more wars after. In 4237, the Suldurian Empire to the South of the Parmeonian Kingdom sent an army to conquer Vandera. Fortunately, the Militias of the 8th Army helped the army of Vandera to repulse the attackers. For Vandera, this war had cost a chance to become an independent city-state (independent from Parmeonian influence) as their army was tore apart on the battlefield of the swamps.

Geography: The Parmeonian Kingdom is at the west of Mount Kohrill (center of the known world). The Kingdom is large and extended, but the Suldurian Empire to the south is threatening. The Targuts of the East (Between Parmeonia and Mount Kohrill) share the eastern border. To the North are the Barbarian Kingdoms… but the map is incomplete due to the hostile relations with this People of the North. To the West of our Kingdom is the Great Ocean… the large sea… an unexplored region though.

Politics:

Parmeonia’s political system is based on monarchy.

Actual Important People:

King Polyön II
A generous and noble King issued of the Agnorian lineage. Now, at the year of 4701, he is about 45 years old.

Prince Marfirius Agnorium: leader of the Militias (8th, 9th, and 10th Armies)
Prince Apollodrus: Young prince, leader of the veteran army (6th Army) near Welzassil.
Prince Relus Iassa (Prince of the port-city Iassa)
Prince Hermius: Younger brother of Prince Apollodrus. Great military leader, leader of the Praetoria of Nel Parmeo.

General Nadir Berenus: General of the Royal Army
General Kor Lindus: Leader of the 2nd Army
Halus the Iron Fist: Leader of the Paladins of the Iron Hand
General Narub Trenus: Leader of the 3rd Army
General Satcha Beg: Leader of the 4th Army
General Herkul Hepidros: Leader of the 5th Army
General Iupsus Kalidor: Leader of the 7th Army (Vandera)

***

-Tales of the 2 Empires-

Sources: Tales from the East

East of Mount Kohrill lie vast and dangerous lands… Lands with poor soil, lands where the ground is constantly dry, dusty and cold. Lands… where even the rats don’t want to live, as they could easily be hunted for food. Depleted lands, the lonely lands of Rekiarsm are divided in 2 distinct factions: The Vepcisian and the Suldurian Empires. 2 empires fighting against each other since the world is world.

The Suldurian Empire, founded by Xionus, a powerful vampire whose spirit was twisted by years of studying Alchemy books. Vampires are creatures with a relatively pale skin. Contrary to local legends, the vampires do not feed themselves of blood. They are simply creatures born in the night, living in caves. The gigantic city called “Ageon”, the Suldurian capital, is a gigantic city built with an oriental style. Particular style indeed… The Suldurians’ name come from Suldur, the 15th leader of the vampires. With several wars (enumerated later on in the text) and bloody campaigns, he succeeded to unite his people. The Empire was born. Several armies were formed, as the Suldurians know instinctively how to fight. Living together with the gargoyles, the Suldurians succeeded to become a fabulously effective military power. Spreading terror in the ranks of their enemies, the Suldurian warriors mounting the gargoyles are some of the deadliest creatures that ever fought in the world. Though, the gargoyles are few in number and prefer to live a peaceful live. The Suldurians use claws and can cause the enemy’s armies to run away in fear. Though, the brave Vepcisians fought them for centuries. The Suldurian society is not really complex… A new Emperor is made until his reign ends by his death of his resignation. The Suldurian Empire is vast and has never been conquered, as its only enemy is the Vepcisian Empire, which is too weak to launch a successful attack.

The Suldurian and Vepcisian Empires are like white and black, light and darkness… 2 different sides of a single coin. The Vepcisian Empire is a regrouping of Humans and Eldars (elves). In 789, the 2 people decided to unite themselves together to form a Confederation, known as the Confederation of Vernion. Vernion was an Eldar King. With the human King Brackium, Vernion created a permanent army to defend their territories against the Suldurians. The capital of the Confederation of Vernion, Lef Koradon, was then besieged by the Suldurians. With a great courage, the people of the Confederation took their weapons and formed one of the greatest armies that walked on this earth. Brackium died during the battle, killed by a gargoyle which tore his body apart. Vernion survived the battle and won the battle. Vernion married Brackium’s daughter after the war, and from this union was born Vepcis. Vepcis was one of the first half-blood Eldar. After his father’s death during a war far in the West, Vepcis made himself Emperor. He created several armies and greatly developed the cities and the Vepcisian culture.

One day, Vepcis received a message: a city was attacked by the Suldurians. He arrived with 3 armies. The battle was hard, but the Vepcisian won. A bit before the battle ended, Vepcis saw the Suldurian general, which was called Suldur. They fought bravely each other until Vepcis got frozen by a magical spell of Suldur. Suldur escaped with the rest of his army, while the Vepcisian soldiers cried, seeing their greatest King being frozen forever. Alchemists and the Eldars’ magic didn’t help anything… Vepcis was frozen... forever. The Vepcisians never chose another Emperor, in honour of Vepcis the Frozen. His body was hidden to an unknown place, and the Eldar and Human generals created the greatest network of trenches, barricades, walls, fortresses, known as the “Fendel Barrier”. This battlefield takes about 2/5 of the total surface area of the Vepcisian Empire and protects all major cities. Though, with time, the Suldurian incursions made of the Fendel Barrier a real permanent battlefield. Barricades, walls, trenches, artificial rivers have been created… anything to stop the Suldurians. With time and the constant raids on the Vepcisian cities, the cities began to fall in ruins. The Vepcisian Empire is totally ruined… There are no beautiful things to see there, except if you consider that war is a beautiful thing. The Generals do their best to protect as best as they can their cities, but they often fail. When they do succeed, the Suldurians always come back. The frontline is large and devastated, as the Empire itself.

Talking about armies, the Suldurians have technological advantages over the Vepcisians. They master the art of Magic, which allows them to use it as they want. They can create catapults with flesh and bones of dead warriors and they can do many other horrible things. The Vepcisians master gunpowder. They use cannons with grapeshot and shells, they also use some mortars (even if there are few in numbers). Though, the arrows of the archers and the swords of the Eldars and Humans are still as effective as they have always been. In the South, the Vepcisians bought some mechanical means of transport: armoured vehicles that don’t even use a horse! These vehicles only use a mysterious liquid that is only sold in Dalan Norr, a lone and unexplored city.

With centuries of constant wars, the Vepcisians feel abandoned… what if a new Vepcis took up the sword and claimed back what belongs to the Eldar and Humans? What if the Vepcisians had still strength to fight the Suldurians? What if… the Suldurians decided to finish this war with their old enemies?