The Night of Alexandria.

Notes:
1. This is my first story.
2. It is entirely fictional, even if based on some real events and places.
3. Any comments are appreciated, encouraged, etc. ~D
4. Edited in hope for more polished work. :bow:
5. Story still active, in case some wonder.

::The Night of Alexandria::

-Prologue: Under the Starless Night-

"Every journey starts with the first step," Delphanus once remembered the words of his grandfather, "and yours shall be a long one."

He never thought such words could be real. Not, at least, until this day.

He rose up from a comfortable patch of furs he was sitting on. This patch of Scythian furs was being used as a kind of bed in this ship, a sleek, yet heavy, and uncomfortable merchant vessel. One that accepted him from the port of Argos as a passenger who looked for the same destination as the ship: the great port-city of Alexandria. From afar, in the middle of the night, it seemed to him that there was indeed a shining light from the direction that the ship was heading. For under the Starless Night any fire can shine. It seemed as if this fire, though far away, was shining brightly like a star that had just fallen upon the Earth.

"Is that, if I'm right, the Pharos?" Delphanus mumbled upon such a sight.

"Yes it is, boy," a voice suddenly responded, "that light is the Pharos."

Delphanus turned back swiftly, surprised by this unlooked-for response. It was the Captain of the ship.

"Pharos of Alexandria..."

"Hold your patience, boy! Tomorrow by sunrise we shall see the Pharos in its full glory, but only if Poseidon wills."

"Only if Poseidon wills..."

fine start AntiochusIII. i hope to see it continued to see what adventures await this boy. ~D

I'd like to welcome you the the mead hall. It's humble...but it's home for me ~;) :bow: enjoy your stay. ~:cheers:

Thanks for the Welcome, Monk :bow: Please be merciful to this wasteful 15 years old boy (me!) ~D

Here's more:

ACT I

-Part I: Of Poseidon and Helios-

One of the greatest lessons for all sailors of the age to learn was to understand the Wills of Poseidon. Their fortunes were his, as were their lives. Indeed, Delphanus felt that the Captain of this ship learned the lesson well. For today, the first time of his life, he saw Alexandria.

The city was nothing like what he could've ever imagined. It was... beyond that. From the little deck of this now little puny trireme, he saw what a true, great port looked like. Born in Troezan, he always thought his home was a good port, with the 'mighty' triremes and dozens of other ship visiting the ever-busy town daily. He couldn't be more wrong. Here in Alexandria, he saw, upon his very eyes, the finest harbor of the world. Biremes, Triremes, Quinquiremes, and every other kind of ships that ever sailed in the seas of Poseidon, were here. Every moment or so a dozen ships sailed in and another dozen ones sailed out, each and every of them full of wealth and goods. And, above all, cutting sharply across the sky, was a great building. The pride of the Alexandrians: the Great Lighthouse of Pharos.

And look! Up on the very top of the Pharos was him, the Lord of the Sea, King of the waves, and father of Gods and Mortals alike: Poseidon. He stood proudly above all things in the greatest city of the world. His trident shone with light; the light that had been reflected from Helios the Sun. Bringing ships and wealth from the far corners of the world, the Sea, and the Sun, were pleased with Alexandria.

"Here we go, boy," the Captain said, "we will drop you here and continue our journey to Carthage. Good Luck."

"Good luck, sir." was all the response Delphanus could came up with. The images of Alexandria held his tongue in check.

With that, the ship reached the harbor.

Jumping from the deck of the ship to the stony ground below, Delphanus of Troezan had finally entered the great city of Alexandria. He looked back towards the merchant ship. Watched intently as the captain and his crews began to brought down their goods and prepared to bargain the price with the local merchants. Those fluffy furs from Scythia that Delphanus used would make a good profit here.

He looked for a while, however, dumbfounded by the fact that he forgot everything he was supposed to do. The sun was too bright, the light was too great, and an insignificant mortal as he was could not comprehend to the grandeur of the city. He watched and watched all around himself, and yet nobody cared. He watched until he realized that the ship was about to go.

"Hey boy! What are you doing right there?" the captain shouted as Delphanus turned his gaze back to the tiny ship. The crews began packing bushels after bushels of wheat and prepared to leave the harbor. He didn't answer, being still surprised and scared. Until the impatient captain walked towards him, and said again: "What are you sitting there for, kid?"

"Err..." finally Delphanus founded his voice, "I'm... looking around the port."

"Yeah, sure. I thought you have business here. Seeing that the council sent you here for something..."

"Oh! I totally forgot! Yes, sir, yes! I have business to do. Sorry sir." he spoke all these words in a hurried fashion. He was half-shocked that such an important mission was forgotten by himself, who were sent here for and only for the mission. Oh, and why was he doing here after all!

He quickly galloped away, towards the city. Though, being still doubtful, he turned back to gaze once more upon the ship.

The ship was gone, to his surprise. Though it didn't matter that much. After days of journey he finally reached the great destination of his mission. He had the work to do. So, to reassure himself for the last time, he looked back towards the sea. Above it, the Pharos was shining with Helios' blinding light. And Poseidon was standing above it, gazing, in the young boy's mind, with grace and reassurance. With that, the Greek boy from Troezan made his step into city, realized now what he was, and why was he here.

He was the messenger.

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The story is quite too slow, I think. I'll add some background next chapter. :book:

To add to the story...

-Part II: The Fiery Night-

May be it was the light in his eyes, may be it was an Alexandrian nature, may be it was the ploy of the gods; but Delphanus certainly had himself captured back into the past, even as his body moved around the street, all on its own...

Fifteen years ago...

The day in the middle of an Aegean Summer was a joyful day for a small family in the shoreline town of Troezan. For they had recieved from Hera, goddess of birth, a new member of the family. This gift came in the form of a little boy whom they named Delphanus after his grandfather.

Despite the death of his mother in his youth, he grew quickly, as was expected for such a healthy young boy in a healthy land. Living with his family, the boy learned the arts of trade, farming, and shepherding from his father and uncles. He had many friends of his age, being a gang of little kids who always played around with each other, causing innocent havoc among the neighbors, and good jokes for them. He had a happy family, with his father being a local farmer, his uncles fishermen, merchants, and blacksmiths in the town. All of them cared for him greatly, as he was the only child of the family. They were happy; he was happy.

Alas, such paradise never lasts.

Those days, bright as they were to young Delphanus, were dangerous days. And it was still as dangerous as ever even when Delphanus reached Alexandria later on. These were the days of the Successors; as great kings fought against each other vying for ultimate power in the world of Alexander the Great. Wars, famines, raids, deaths, and slavery were as common as fishing, farming, and sailing. Even Greece itself could not escape from the bloody chaos. It seemed as if the gods were once again playing their deadly games of power, much like they did, once, famously, at Troy.

The disastrous day for the people of the Aegean town of Troezan finally came when Delphanus was still eight years old. One night, under the dark sky without the Moon and the Stars, the port of Troezan slept in silence, unaware of the coming danger. For the pirates of the Aegean sea decided that they wanted to attack this modest port not very far from the ancient and powerful city of Argos. Using the dark as the cover, they sailed into the sea with their swift biremes. They then crashed upon the harbor, overtook the guards with sheer number and shocking surprise, and began to loot and rape the town.

It was a horror. Women were raped, men were killed, children were captured to become slaves. Houses were torn apart, granaries looted, workshops burned, and anything of value were taken by the pirates. As if Chaos herself visited the town of Troezan. And the pirates set it on fire. A common sight indeed for such a cruel age. Common, yet terrifying.

The pirates, after hours of the marauding raid, left before the Argive forces would come to assault them. The town was left in shock, and in ruins. Few were left standing by the end of that night, only those lucky few.

The family of Delphalus did not survive the raid; they were lost, death or missing. Delphalus, under the favour of the fates, surprisingly survived the raid which took away most of this town's inhabitants.

When they came, he remembered, he was asleep in his own house. He remembered how the noises of swords clashing started and woke everyone in the house. He remembered how voices of shrieking and shouting filled the empty air. He remembered the chaos. He remembered how his father told him to ran away into the dark country, and how his uncles picked up their weapons, and his father unsheathed his sword.

He saw the family charged out of the house into the streets. He saw the sky burned, as red fire and black smoke rose towards it. He saw the dark figures of the people he knew and the people that slaughtered them. He saw the fighting and clashing of metals. He saw the wailing and gnashing of teeth among the women who were being raped, and the men who were being cut down. He saw how his legs began to run wildly, uncontrollably, away from his house, his town. He saw how he entered the field, collapsed there, and fainted in fatigue. He saw them all in the Fiery Night.

And when he woke up from his fainting sleep, he tasted the rain.

As if Zeus wished to make his sorrow known, a shower of rain came down late in the night. The fire was put to an end, leaving the ruined town soaked with mud and blood, filled with dead bodies. And among them the family of Delphanus of Troezan, who was crying and sobbing in the middle of the grass field, wet with tears of the sky, and dark.

The night seemed endless, tormenting, to all. Yet, at last, in the end, Helios had greeted the sky.

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So, what do you guys think? Comments please.

well now i know where the boy is from at least ~D

though flashbacks can be tricky if not done right. be careful that by doing one the momentum in your story isn't lost. :book:

the last thing i'll say is; be careful about sentence length. That is something i must constantly change about my writing. there's a few times where a single sentence runs for two lines and is nearly half a paragraph. It's not technically a bad thing but can be difficult for a skim reader. i've found using ';' instead of ',' in the right spots can make all the difference.

other than that the story is coming along nicely. ~D

Thank you, monk. I'll try to reduce the lenght of sentences. The flashback would not come in more than one part each, because I see no need to tell everything so quickly.

Thank you for the suggession :bow: I'll do my best.

-Part III: Across the Hallway-

By that moment, a harsh loud voice broke Delphanus' memory of Helios upon the ruins of Troezan...

"Halt! Where do you think you're going, young man?" a voice asked.

"W..What? Oh! W..Where am I?" Delphanus responded, surprised. He then turned, and saw two guardsmen standing at a golden gate in front of an extremely impressive structure.

"You are at the gate of the palace of the Pharoah, kid. What are you doing here?" the other guardsman asked.

Delphanus, being still consumed by the memory, slowly took a good look at his whereabouts. The imposing structure in front of him was a truly magnificent building to behold. With its golden roof, its massive dome, its magnificent tall towers, and its tall, large walls; he quickly realized where his feet took him to, his destination, the palace of the Ptolemies.

"Er..erm... I'm a..a messenger, I'm coming to see the king, sir."

"You cannot enter without permission boy. What kind of messenger are you?"

"I am the messenger from Argos," his voice was growing stronger once more, "the Argive council sent me here."

"Proof, kid?" the guardsmen asked loudly.

"Erm..here sir." Delphanus produced a golden badge with the head of a she-goat on it, the symbol of Argos.

"Very well, come in."

With that, the guardsmen opened the massive door, and led him in. He was soon recieved by a bald old eunuch, who looked down upon the rugged young man with a face of disdain. Delphanus knew for sure this man didn't trust him.

"Come in, boy. You are saying you are the messenger from Argos, right?"

"Yes.. sir."

"Show me the proof." Delphanus once again produced his badge out to show it to the eunuch.

"How come Argos sent such a beggar as a messenger?"

Delphanus didn't answer, nor did the eunuch wanted the answer. It was an insult from a superior... man.

He was then led across a large empty hallway that had been richly decorated by tall and magnificent Corinthian pillars made of finest Sicilian marble. Such was the riches of the Ptolemaic pharoahs. They and their wealth; there was no surprise his superiors chose to send him to Egypt. Only the most powerful gets to help the weak. Delphanus' and the eunuch's footsteps created an elegant noise that kept repeating itself like a rock falling upon the mountain of marbles...

It took them a while to cross the great hallway and the stairs which led to yet another hallway of similar style, but the eunuch wasn't leading him to the end, where noises of many people were coming from. Instead of the pharoah's court, the eunuch led him to a large room on the side.

"The Pharoah and his advisors will arrive shortly, do not touch anything, boy," the eunuch said, looked at him haughtily, and warily, and left.

Delphanus sat upon a chair closest to him, prepared to wait for a long time. He had never seen anything such as this before. The room itself was clad in the finest materials of the Earth; its ceiling completely covered in gold; its walls decorated with finest paintings of native Egyptian style; its floors were made of colorful marbles creating a mosaic picture of the sun. It also had the most worthy furnitures, with a massive square table in the middle of the room built, as he guessed, of finest Byblos' cedar, dozens of fine cedar chairs, one of which he was sitting on, and most notably, the countless pillars that were carved into the entire collection of Olympian pantheon and their followers.

Was he dreaming? As this room was beyond anything he had seen before. Now, he wondered if this was the trick of a humorous god, showing him the image of what the Halls of Olympus would've looked like. Fifteen years old, a young boy, from Argos and before it Troezan; Delphanus saw something that must've taken a hundred years to accomplish. Little did he know that it was a craftsmanship of a single man, in a single year...

It was just morning, and he'd seen more wonders in Alexandria that he would ever see in the entire Pelopponnus for a lifetime. He could wait here forever.

Yet, after what seemed to be only a short moment, the door of the room opened, and the pharoah stepped in.

-Part IV: Under the Golden Roof-

The pharoah of Egypt who came into the door was nothing like what Delphanus had imagine. He thought he would've seen the kingly figure like that from the legends of Alexander the Great walking through the door. The man himself, however, was plumb, rather short, with darker skin than usual Greeks. At least his clothes spoke clearly of his position; they were kingly, with the golden twin crown of the two kingdoms, the golden beard placed upon the fat chin, and the even more foreign gold jewelries all across his body; at least he wore a toga, albeit the finest exotic silk toga shining brightly in white under the golden roof. It alone made the pharoah of Egypt all the more elegant than the entire collection of gold across his body. Yet, for some reason, Delphanus knew he was in charge. For his eyes, of snake-like feature and vulture sharpness, pierced through his mind harder than any eyes before. Though unspoken, it was made clear: he was king.

Then the king spoke: "What message do you have for me, messenger of Argos?" he asked with his eyes seemingly indifferent, yet, with such a strong inquisitive nature, sharper than they were before, that Delphanus could barely met his eyes. He demanded an answer, and it must be responded with a good answer.

"An offering of alliance, your highness." Delphanus responded, hoping it was a good one.

"What, then, would Egypt gain in the alliance with your humble city, Argos?"

"An ally, in the Aegean, against the Antigonid empire, your highness, is extremely valuable. Besides, the might of Egypt is wasted here along the peaceful shores of the Nile. Would a truly great pharoah sits back when the Antigonids roam free across the world, conquering as they went?"

"Across the world, really? I believe this is an overstatement, right messenger?"

"Not so, sire. Though they seems weak right now from the eyes of such a great man in a great kingdom. Looking from the grandeur of this," he waved his hand around the room, "I have no doubt Alexandria is greater than the entire Macedonian kingdom combined. Yet, sire, heed this warning: if you leave the Antigonids alone in their own designs, Fate would favor them again. After all, the founders of their houses includes men of fates with the likes of Antigonos The One-Eyed, Demetrius the Besieger, and Antigonos Gonatas."

"I don't have to ally with Argos to keep them at bay; the Argive council should do a better bargain than this. Besides, Egypt needs no fear from puny Macedon."

Delphanus began to worry, thinking that he may fail his mission, after all, though he made another attempt to persuade the seemingly indifferent pharoah. By now, the pharoah's advisors began to arrive in the room.

"But, your highness, even though Egypt has no fear of Macedon. The Macedonians may find help from a greater empire which must be more of a threat to the ruler of Alexandria. Sire, if the Antigonids join forces with the Seleucids, your empire will be threatened."

With that, Delphanus gave the king the parchment of papyrus sealed with the Argive she-goat symbol, even as the king's advisors who just came in began to murmur, and he himself still surprised by his rather effective reaction to the question of the king. 'Not bad at all for the first task,' he thought, 'Still, the king may not accept. To think again, there is really little for Argos to offer to anybody, though I hope the message from wiser, older men from the council would do some good.' The king read, made no answer, gave it to his advisors, and observed as they began a heated, long, and very dull discussion. Why would they discuss on something so simple as "Alliance: Yes or No?" He thought it was a meaningless discussion. That is, until he heard about who should Egypt ally itself with. Argos or Macedon, that was a hard answer. One was too weak and the other too strong. Though Delphanus himself, the messenger, had little idea of what was going on, and even less idea of what was about to happen.

Little did he know that it was the pharoah's humorous and yet cunning ploy to push his own advisors and his young messenger to believe that the Pella-Alexandria alliance was serious. Men who feared they would lose would pay more for victory. Even then, some advisors still believed the pharaoh was friendly to Macedon and tried to convince other advisors to support the view. Indeed, a golden room of old councillors do not belong to an innocent boy fifteen years of age.

Meanwhile, as the fate of Argos hung in balance, a small ship sailed from the east wind into the Aegean, under the arms of the Colossus...

Back to the work...

-Part V: The Arms of The Colossus-

While the debate over the alliance offering continued on, and Delphanus of Troezan sat half-consciously in the corner of the Golden room, under the same sun, a ship sailed into the Aegean...

The ship was just a small ship, even smaller than a Bireme. It attracted little attention as it entered the harbor of Rhodes. Little was known to the island city's inhabitants that a person of great significance was visiting Rhodes; though it seemed at first to be little more than a resupplying visit by yet another weary travellers from another port in another corner of the world.

After the ship rested properly in the harbor, a man walked up to the deck of it, watching the harbor and the statue above. He was, by his looks, a middle-aged man; his eyes dark brown, sharp with vigilance, deep with wisdom, and yet weary; his hair also dark brown, with a brown beard filled with dignity; his clothes were that of an ordinary Greek merchant, but his looks were that of a nobleman, even if the back lowered in weariness. It has been a long journey; sailing all day and night from the proud city of Antioch; and before that, he had to put up with a rather demanding and pressuring Seleucid king. Thus, this captain of the ship decided to use his servant instead of himself to go into the city and do his businesses.

"Go, Phocus. Go buy some supplies and contact my agent for me." the man said.

"Alright" was his servant's quick response before he began to walk away.

As his servant went out to buy some supplies from the locals, the man put himself down upon the floor of his ship, and pondered about the long-lost past...

Somewhere in the Aegean, fifteen years ago...

"Sir, we've prepared the raiding parties as you ordered."

"Good, you, captain Anthremos, you will harass the islands of the eastern part of the Cyclades that is loyal to Ptolemy and try your best to convert them to our side. Avoid harassing Rhodes, however."

"Yes, sir."

"And you, captain Nolasias, you will continuously raid Ptolemaic Caria's shores. Do as much damage as possible."

"Alright, sir."

"While you, my assistant admiral, you will be responsible for a campaign of raids upon the Eastern shores of the Peloponnus. Take control of the fleet of our pirate allies and gather as much slaves and loot as you can in each of your attacks and be sure not to try and engage the local military forces directly."

"With pleasure, sir..."

Those great campaigns in his youth were not forgotten. The war between his king and the Egyptian Pharoah was not forgotten. And the fact that the island-city of Rhodes brought the would-be glorious victory for his side into a useless one was not forgotten. All because he ignored the city that supported Ptolemy in his war...

And here he was, fifteen years later, in the city he avoided. He gazed intently on the Great Statue that made the island-city so blissful. It was as if the Cyclopes themselves were the ones who erected this proud statue of the Sun up in the first place. Under the arms of the Colossus this town and its harbor prospered and became one of the strongest states in the Aegean sea.

Though this famous statue of Helios was, in truth, built not too long ago by the Rhodians when the legendary siege of their city had ended. A legendary siege indeed, rumoured to be so great that it makes the great siege of Tyre a child's play. It had been led personally by the greatest city-taker of that age. A man who, as they said, overshadowed Alexander the Great himself when it comes to the art of siege warfare. The man was Demetrius Poliorcetes, and he was the ancestor of this man.

His name was Herakles, an important prince in the house of Antigonos. A great captain of war, he had a history of successes and was a great addition to the prestigious dynasty. Even now he was returning back from a successful mission to shake the world with the new alliance that was signed between two of the greatest houses of the Successors.

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Where and how should I improve my work? Any flaws? Comments please, thank you.

OK, I was busy, and Alexandria was spared for a long time.. now I'm back.

-Part VI: The Message-

Prince Herakles of Macedon spent the rest of the day in his ship in some sort of a strange, silent peace one gains when he came to rest in his own peace of mind in the middle of the noisiest places. The famous harbour of Rhodes was always busy and noisy, day and night, and this day was no exception. Though the noises of the busy port did little to disturb the dreaming prince until his servant returned.

"Ah, Phocus, are the supplies prepared?"

"Yes, your highness, we've brought enough for the trip straight to Pella."

"And the agent?"

"We've contacted him, sire, and he gave us this message. He said it was from another agent in Alexandria. Do we have one?"

"Yes, we do. No more questions about this. Now give it to me."

The servant, with curious eyes, gave him a well-tied parchment. He opened the parchment, and read it silently:

"Prince,
I've gathered some interesting informations here from the Alexandrian court. It seems Ptolemy was recieving several alliance offerings from your foes in Greece. Already, the Spartan, Athenian, Achaen, Aetolian, and even Elisian messengers arrived requesting Ptolemy to intervene in Greece against you. I haven't heard from Argos, yet, though I suspect a messenger must be on his way. However, Ptolemy's forces were busy fighting Seleucus' in Palestine and he was unable to move into the Aegean yet. Though I believe he would soon send a major expedition to "help" his "allies" in Greece. In fact, he has already sent out an agent to stir up resistance in Rhodes, which, as you know, stayed neutral in the recent wars, despite their pro-Ptolemaic position. This agent was bound to visit Rhodes within ten days. It is very much possible that he will be in Rhodes by the time you recieve this message."

He pondered a bit about the message. This Ptolemaic agent was dangerous! The Rhodian navy was the second strongest navy that sailed in the Aegean sea after Macedon's own and the island was so strategically located that it was virtually the gateway to Aegean from the Levantine east. If it joined Ptolemy's alliance then he would have a free hand to interfere in Greece at will. If it remained neutral, on the other hand, the gates would be closed from him and king Antigonus would be able to crush the remaining Greek resistance without problems. Thus, it was very clear what he should do.

"We will not leave immediately, Phocus."

"Why, sir?"

"We have an important mission to do. Find the agent again, ask him to contact his friends in the Rhodian council about a Ptolemaic diplomat, also, hire me at least three skillful assassins. Now get going!"

"As you wish," the servant responded, "anything else, sire?"

"Wait. Ask the agent to arrange a meeting between me and the Rhodian demagogue Aeulos in his house. Also, from now on, no more 'sire,' my identity cannot be discovered by some overhearing."

"Yes."

With that, his servant quickly left the ship, swiftly moved across the harbor into the crowded city. The prince, now with worried eyes, continued to gaze upon the Colossus, whispering, in a dark, half-consciously spoken voice, 'You shall be toppled one day, Colossus of Rhodes. One way or another, the city which created you shall fall beneath the great weights of the might of Macedon. You will not survive its fall, and after that, the fate that shall befall you will happen upon Alexandria...'

-Part VII: The Assassins of Rhodes-

It was late in the evening when Phocus, loyal and cunning servant of the Macedonian prince Herakles, returned. The man went through the harbor swiftly, with the air of success showed when the dog accomplished the task for his master. He was pleased with his ability. Three finest assassins in one day! The prince must be proud...

As he approached the small ship with which carried he and his master to as far as the great Seleucid port Seleucia, he noticed that his prince was already waiting patiently for him.

"How is your mission, Phocus?" the prince said.

"I've contacted the agent, sir, and.." he responded.

"I thought I've warned you about the 'sir' word." the prince snapped.

"I apologize si..sorry and I've enlisted three assassins as you wished, they will meet you in front of Aeulos' house. Also, the agent has already reported back. There is indeed a Ptolemaic diplomat arrived here, but, unfortunately, his location cannot be determined. Nevertheless, the Rhodian politician Aeulos has agreed to meet you in his house tonight." Phocus finished.

"Very good, Phocus," the prince said, "let us leave quickly to the meeting with our 'faithful ally' right now."

As they walked away from the harbor across the crowded red streets of the populous city; bloodied by the eve of the sun and blackened by countless shadows. The prince Herakles of Macedon noticed that there were a few shadows following them. "Beware," he whispered to his servant, "somebody are following us." Phocus noticed that quickly, and, responding to the imminent threat, led his master to another, smaller street in which there were only beggars around. "We will finish them there," he whispered back to his master, "I have a hidden dagger ready, how about you?" The prince's only replies were that he slowed down, observed the shadows of these possible assassins, and acted as if he was indifferent and ignorant to the danger. The servant understood the message: his master was ready. He slowed down as well, and prepared to recieve the approaching danger.

The assassins moved swiftly, three men in all. Each of them held a dagger in each hand, but nobody doubted that there were many hidden all over their clothes. These men quickly charged upon their target, the Antigonid prince Herakles. Yet, it was clear to both the prince and his servant that they were not professionals; they'd made a mistake of temporarily ignoring the servant of the prince. Any competent assassin would realize that a target of such importance wouldn't be walking unguarded with a useless companion; the servant was also a bodyguard, and a good one.

Phocus threw his dagger upon one of the assassins. It cutted through his face and quickly blinded and incapacitated him. He then pulled up another hidden dagger and assaulted another assassin, stabbed him in the back, cutted his throat, and moved on to the last assassin. But that was unnecessary. Herakles of Macedon was neither weak nor careless. He threw a dagger from a hand that, a second ago, was empty. It hit precisely at the throat of the man, being so close because of him charging so fast. Herakles then moved upon to the unfortunate assassin, finishing him off quickly with yet another hidden sword. Thus, successfully thwarted this unlooked-for threat to his life, and ignoring the scream of shock of a few beggars nearby, he continued to ask the blinded first assassin with a harsh, short, silenced, and demanding voice: "Who sent you?" He recieved no reply, "tell me and I'll ease your passing." Still, there was no reply, until the dying assassin laughed, and mocked him, saying that he was foolish to expect an assassin to reveal the secret, and, with that, died.

"Damn it! Now we don't know who were behind this!" the prince scowled, and prepared to walk away from the site.

But Phocus the servant quickly searched the dead bodies, and came up with three coins, all marked with an Eagle symbol. "A Ptolemaic coin," he said, "minted in Palestine, probably."

"Ptolemy? He couldn't possibly know I'm here, unless it was his agent's hand..." Herakles remarked, thoughtful of his own words.

"Ah, it seems this agent is competent enough to try to use the same tactic as we're planning to use on him." Phocus responded.

"Then he must've left the island already. Rhodes is infamous for the death of many important visitors. Being a well-known diplomat from Ptolemy could bring many sorts of trouble here." Herakles noted.

"Yes, a sort of trouble when a rival prince arrived looking for his blood," Phocus added, "however, what good are those assassins waiting in front of Aeulos' house now that he's probably gone?"

The prince answered, "Don't worry, I have other uses for them. Just get to the house."

"Yes, sire." Phocus responded naturally, though that annoyed the prince.

"I think I told you twice about the "sire" thing. We're in a hostile city, so you'd better be more careful." the prince angrily responded, though in a whispering, if sharp, voice. With that, he went on to his destination.

"My apology," Phocus said, and, leaving the bloody site, quickly followed his master's heels.

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One more part and I'll have to move back to Delphanus now. Did my story lost focus?

-Part VIII: The Prince in the Republic-

The sun had already left the sky and the moon of Artemis rose in its place when prince Herakles and his servant Phocus arrived at the house of the Rhodian demagogue, Aeulos. As expected, three shadowy figures awaited him near the house's gate. Though Herakles had no doubt of who they were, he was cautious. His hand moved into the pocket, and, holding the bloodied dagger from the recent fight, approached the men.

One of them, his face hidden in the hood, spoke first,

"You are the customer, I suppose."

"Yes, I am," the prince answered, "I'll tell you later what is the mission, for now, come with me into this house."

"Wait. About our wages.."

Herakles used his other hand to pulled out a small bag of gold. "This is half of the wages, if you succeed, then I'll make sure you get the rest."

"Agreed," the other assassins answered.

The men walked with him towards the house's gate, being just as cautious of their paymaster as the prince and his servant was to them. Herakles knocked the gate, and the voice inside came out "Who are you?" then continued, "What do you want?" Herakles answered: "I have a meeting with your master. He knows full well who I am, so don't ask!" The man then showed his face, looking curiously at the shadow of five men standing at the gate of his master's house. One prince, one servant, and three assassins waited patiently as the guard asked again: "What's your name?" The prince sighed, and answered in a short and sharp tone, he was annoyed, "Herakles, and these are my companions, now go to your master!" Satisfied, the guard went into the house again, and one of the assassins asked quietly: "Is this 'master' our target?" Herakles shook his head slightly and answered: "No."

"Master said welcome," the returning guard said, being uncertain, then slowly opened the gate. The men walked in. Herakles demanded swiftly that the guard brought the three "companions" to rest for a while. He then walked into another room, and met a man in waiting.

This man, Aeulos, was a tall man, with charismatic looks of a 'man of the people.' He was quite bald, but well-trimmed, and was a large and well-built man. Little did his admirers know that he was such a...shadowy character behind the curtains of publicity. A prominent man in the council of Rhodes, a demagogue known for his anti-Ptolemaic standing; he was, in truth, a Macedonian ally who virtually controlled half of a hostile Republic.

"Ah, welcome, prince Herakles. What business brings you here to this humble port?" he asked in a slightly amused way.

"A business of the king, as usual. I heard that a Ptolemy's dog came here, right?" the Macedonian prince questioned.

"Yes, a Ptolemy's dog. He's a cunning dog, too." the Rhodian responded.

"A cunning dog, hmm.. and where is this 'dog' right now?" Herakles continued.

"Unfortunately, prince, he left the city already, spent his time, as it seems, no longer than necessary. He delivered the message to the Republic's council, requesting our aid against the 'troublesome' Macedonians. He was a good orator as well. One speech and he already controlled the minds of half the council."

"That is not good, and what about your rivals, Leoptus and Macconissus?"

"Those two dogs are barking support for Ptolemy, as usual."

"Are there anybody else who claims leadership of the Ptolemaic party?"

"None that I remembered. How do you want to take care of them, after all?"

"That is easy, leave it to me. Once I leave Rhodes, I want you to continue rusing the people against Ptolemy, alright?"

"Yes, with a proper pay."

Herakles reached for a pocket. "A proper pay it is."

After ensuring that this cunning politician would support his cause, he went out into the yard. He then called the door's guard, told him to call his 'companions' back. Soon enough, all five of them were once again at the gate. Herakles then turned to the assassins. "You know where is the house of Leoptus the Orator, right?" "Yes" was their reply, and then said, "So this man is our target." The prince replied "For you alone, yes, the other two, I've got another job for you."

The prince then whispered to them of the rest of his plan, one that would saw to it that the fleets and harbours of the powerful island Republic became a fine addition - no longer an obstruction - to the crown of Macedon. He didn't wait for the result; he didn't even wait to rest for one day; but went to his ship, leaving behind his servant Phocus to report the results and pay the assassins, and, with the well-rested crewmen of the small ship ready, sailed into the open sea, under the shadow of Colossus and the Moon...

Ahh, back to the forgotten boy in the forgotten city...

-Part IX: In Alexandria, in the Meadow Hall-

While the Macedonian prince's intrigue was going on and the Rhodians slept; the moon-shed Colossus slept in silence; yet, the Pharos of Alexandria was shining, as well as the entire city. Bright as the sun to eyes of those who look from the darkness of the night, Alexandria challenged the bright moon of the Virgin Goddess of the Hunt. And, in one small corner of the city, was a tavern, also lit brightly under its candle lamps.

This tavern, known to the people in the neighborhood as "The Meadow Hall," was a popular place for people to come, sit, drink, talk, and sing in celebration of their happy everyday life. Among the different faces and different voices, among the barrels of native beer and imported wine, there were two small people sitting in the dark corner of the room...

"Ah, Paul, this beer is indeed very good."

"Ha ha, I told you! Your Greek wines couldn't compare to the real drink like this. One should get some real things like this when he comes to the tavern!"

"Yeah, but back in Greece we have only wines to drink."

"Hehe, you sissy Greeks couldn't live up to the fullest while poor Hebrews like us celebrate our nights and days with beer and meat!"

"Never mind, I think I'll stay here for a long time to enjoy your 'beer and meat.' Pharoah didn't use me to return the message to my hometown, so I'm stuck here with nothing to do and nowhere to go. At least he gave me a good room in the palace's guest house to rest, even if it's just a simple, little room, while next door they have indoor bath. Well, he must thinks that after that meeting I'm gonna be tired as hell."

"Whoa! You came from the palace?"

"From Argos, to be exact."

"And you meet the pharoah? In the name of Yehwah! I thought you were just like us poor boys!"

"No, no! I'm just like you! It's just that the Argive council sent me here to deliver a message to the pharoah. I'm just a farmer's son as much as you are a city man's son."

"A city man's son? Ha ha ha...ugh, oh, too much drink.. you honour me too much, lad, I'm a city man's son! Oh, and by the..ugh..way, can you tell me your..ugh..story? How could you get here? In Alexandria?"

"Sure, my friend, you know that I came from Argos. Though originally I came from Troezan and...my town was destroyed by the pirates, and I'm the only survivor of my family. So, when the pirates left, the army from Argos came in to rescue us. They then brought us (me and the other few survivors) to live in Argos. There, I grew up, serving in the prominent Argive family of Telemos, and... err... well...erm..."

"Drink, drink! Drink more and tell more! A good story warms up the cold night!"

"Yeah, okay... ahh... Alright, you see, I grew up and served the great man Telemon, so I had a chance to learn things like history, philosophy, and stuff. Though later they, err.. the council figured out that the attack on my town was...ugh! What the!... oh, the attack on my town was done by Macedon's raiding party. And then we heard that..ugh!..there is an army from Mace..ugh! oh well, Macedon came down to Greece, so the council is kind of..ahem..afraid of what they'd do. So they sent me here asking for the pharoah to inte...ugh, oh Dionysus!... interfere."

"Ha ha, are you that weak, Greek boy? Only a glass and now you're drunk!"

"Oh, sor..sorry then, I never drink beer be..be..fore."

"Never mind, though I also heard rumors that many messengers from Greek towns came here asking for help like you do. More drink?"

"Really? Oh well, my friend, I can't drink anymore, I..I feel sick."

"Ha ha, Greek weakling you really are! See you around later then, err.. what's your name?"

"Delphanus."

------------------------------------------

A unique chapter, I'm trying something different. Though I think the story must be veeerrry bad since nobody comment on anything. :embarassed:

NOTE: ALL EDITED 3/19/05

Quote:

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A unique chapter, I'm trying something different. Though I think the story must be veeerrry bad since nobody comment on anything.

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I'm reading. ~:) Just checking where you're going with the storyline.

Ok, a couple of points. The separate storyline is fine, so don't worry about that.

A number of comments:

Try to clip a long sentence into two. Example:

Quote:

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As they moved swiftly across the crowded red streets of the populous city, bloodied by the eve of the sun and blackened by countless shadows.

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They moved swiftly across the crowded red streets. The populous city is bloodied by the eve of the sun and blackened by countless shadows.

or

They moved switftly across the crowded red streets: a populous city bloodied by the eve of the sun and blackened by countless shadows.

Cleaner and better sounding. ~:)

More importantly are the missing edits. Try to go back and clean the sentences. Break a paragraph, change a word or even their order. Thus, my only suggestion left is to go back to the story and edit it one by one (before the next chapter). And try to put spaces in between the dialogues so it is easier to read.

Edit: My mistake, there were quick edits. :dizzy2: But, you need to do more cleaning and tightening of the sentences.

Okay, thank you for the suggestion. I'm going to "repair" my works now. ~:cool:

I think I need more practice. :bow:

Oh, and how's your Scyrulus? I think people are waiting to see if Amulius is going to kill them all or not. ~;)

{EDIT} Actually its me waiting to see how your story's going. ~D Com'on, what happen to poor Oppius (is he bald? ~D )

Quote:

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Originally Posted by AntiochusIII

I think I need more practice. :bow:

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Of course, as everyone else, nobody is perfect. ~;) Looking forward to read it again after the complete edits.

Quote:

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Oh, and how's your Scyrulus? I think people are waiting to see if Amulius is going to kill them all or not. ~;)

{EDIT} Actually its me waiting to see how your story's going. ~D Com'on, what happen to poor Oppius (is he bald? ~D )

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Coming very soon ~:cool: . You can see Oppius' picture as the general amongst the unit cards in the screenshots (and he's not bald).

Alright, the earlier parts are now edited. Time to continue the story.

--Part X: Wake Up, Delphanus--

The sky was bright; the moon had left the sky and the Sun himself came into her place. His light shone upon countless towns and cities. From Argos and the ruins of Troezan to Alexandria of Egypt all was bright and shining. The light itself woke up many people from their peaceful slumber. One of these was a boy by the name of Delphanus.

His head was aching badly. He noticed the light shining brightly above him. Too bright. So he sat up, prepared to...what?

"Where am I?" he asked. It was to no one in particular, not even himself.

"What am I doing here?" he continued to asked into the thin air, "What are those noises?"

He then looked around himself. He was sitting on a fine wool bed. To his right was a table and a chair, made of fine, sturdy wood; to his left was a shining window, one which allows the all-too-bright light of the sun to enter; in front of him was a door. He was in a room made of good quality marble, even if they were not very well decorated. And the noises from down below...from where?

It took him quite a while to realize where he was. Then another moment to gather the pieces together. He was in Alexandria, for one thing. He was also here to send a message to the pharoah. He was...well, succeeded, he believed. The pharoah sent another messenger to Argos to...confirm the alliance. He had not been sent back because, erm...well, he didn't know why. So he was in pharoah's palace, yes, that's right. He spent his time in the past few days doing..what? Oh, travelling aimlessly around Alexandria. And last night he was...with a Hebrew boy named...Paul. And he drank; that would explain his headache.

Delphanus slowly sat up straight, unsure what to do. The headache was killing him; he swore not to drink any more beer again. He then stood up, slowly and carefully. He shook his head, sat down again, and wondered what to do.

Though that was unnecessary, as somebody called him, and knocked the door.

"Messenger. Messenger of Argos. Wake up, sir. Messenger!" the voice from outside the door called. Whoever was on the other side was knocking politely at first, then furiously.

"Ye...yes?" Delphanus answered back slowly, unsure what to do, "I..I'm here!"

"Sir, you are called to the presence of the Pharoah's advisor, Mathodus."

"Er..Okay! I'll open the door now."

He stood up again, walked slowly towards the door, his legs were aching thanks to the beer from the night before. He opened the door, and saw a young servant waiting anxiously for him.

"Sir, the Pharoah's Advisor called for your presence." the servant repeated himself.

"Yes, yes, I know. I need to get dressed, right?"

"Sir, you're already dressed," the servant answered slowly, confused, Delphanus took a good look at himself; he was indeed already dressed, "Though you need to put on your sandals, sir."

"Alright." Delphanus said. He picked up his shoes near the bed, sat down on it, and putted on his sandals. He then followed the servant.

The servant moved swiftly, anxiously, across the elegant palace. Delphanus had a hard time keeping pace with him. They walked across the guest rooms, a side hallway, into the main hallway, and back in the room that he entered before: the Golden room.

The servant led him inside, bowed to him politely, and left quickly. Delphanus was left in the room just like before with the eunuch. Though this time it was not entirely the same. There was already a man sitting inside. This man was not the pharoah himself, nor was he one of pharoah's advisors that Delphanus saw the day he came to Alexandria. This man was different. He never saw him before. The man dressed simply, if still elegantly in some ways. He looked 'sharp'. His eyes were those of eagle's eyes, observing Delphanus' every moves while calculating them. He watched Delphanus sitting unconfidently on a Cedar chair opposite to his. The great, long table between them.

A silence stepped in. An uncomfortable silence that lasted for a moment. Finally, Delphanus broke the silence.

"Erm..."

"Welcome, messenger of Argos. I want you here because I have an offer to you, boy. Or shall I say, Delphanus?"

Antiochus,

Very nice and very clean and much easier to read. I've read the update and the new edit last night (as well as the other edits awhile ago).

Keep up the good work! ~:)

Thank you. :bow:

--Part XI: The Offer--

"An offer, sir?" Delphanus questioned, startled.

"Yes, an offer. I believe you are surprised that you were not sent back to Argos." the Pharoah's 'advisor' answered.

"Yes, I do. What offer, sir?" Delphanus continued. He anticipated a direct answer from the man.

Instead, the man said: "I believe you already know that the Pharoah has a policy of employing Greeks into his service."

"Yes," Delphanus answered slowly, cautiously, "but.. are you saying that he..er, I mean, his Highness wishes to employ me, lord Mathodus?" He remembered the man's name now that his thought went back to the recent morning.

The man looked at Delphanus with mild approval, "I see that you have a keen observation despite still being drunk," Delphanus looked worried; how could this man knew so much of him even without meeting him once? "And I believe you must be surprised by my 'knowledge' of you. Don't worry, if you take this offer I'll explain it to you."

Delphanus held his breath, waiting for the man to speak. He watched Delphanus' reaction with mild satisfaction. After a short while, he finally said:

"The pharoah is surprised to see Argos sending a boy as a messenger. He is also pleased to see that you have a talent for diplomacy. He ordered me to find out more about you, and, from the information I gathered, I convinced him that you will be useful." He said all that in a formal voice, though Delphanus also felt that he was playing a game with him. Even with all those words the offer itself was still left unrevealed.

The man, Mathodus, observed Delphanus' reaction with a small smile. He was indeed playing a game with the boy. Amused, he continued, "And the offer is: you will enter into the Pharoah's employment as a junior diplomat. If you agree I will be your mentor. Though you should be aware that a 'diplomat' in employ of his Highness must be more than that."

Delphanus shifted uncomfortably in his Cedar chair. He had been offered a chance to visit exotic places and peoples in the name of the Pharoah. A diplomat would have to go to the far corners of the world to serve Him properly. Though he was disturbed by the latest words: 'must be more than that...' What could that be? An agent? A spy? A soldier? An assassin? He took a moment of confusing thoughts to finally answered:

"Yes, but you owe me an explaination of how and how much you know about me, sir."

"Good," lord Mathodus said, "you are now in employ of Pharoah Ptolemy of Egypt, and I am now your mentor. I will explain to you later about your tasks, lesson, and the explaination I owed you. But for now, go back to your room and sober up properly. I will order some food and water to help you. Now go."

Delphanus stood up, prepared to leave, but when he put his Cedar chair back to its former place lord Mathodus interrupted:

"Oh, and last thing, as your mentor my first advice would be that you should never touch Egyptian beer again."

Delphanus looked at him; a small smile spread across the man's face. In response, Delphanus bowed.

"Thank you...sir."

these are very good in my opinion

Thank you, master of the puppets. :bow:

--Part XII: The Past that leads to The Future--

Delphanus walked slowly back to his room across the palace, thoughtful of his new position. Just a while ago, he was Delphanus, messenger of Argos. Now, he was Delphanus, junior diplomat of the Ptolemaic Empire, and he didn't even really sober up yet.

When he reached his room, he founded a bowl of fresh water and a tray - nay, a silver dish - of food. He took the food; its taste was rather...different. Though he agreed that he liked it. Nonetheless, instead of drinking the water, young Delphanus simply put his head down into the bowl, feeling the coolness of the water from the Lake of Alexandria. It was, more or less, his home now; and he should make himself comfortable at it.

The fresh water that now covered all over his head somehow made his mind wandered back, once again, into the past...

It was a memory of the dark night when he lost his family and his town to the 'pirates'. For the night, with the sky raining after the destruction, was wet; all over his body he had been soaked wet, especially his face. He also remembered how, when the sky was clear and the new day dawned, he was saved. An expedition was sent from Troezan's mother city Argos to salvage what was left in the ruins, and saved the survivors. It was led by a man named Telemos.

This 'Telemos' was an aristocrat of Argos, though he served the Republic with such loyalty and efficiency that he became one of its leaders. He and his expedition came in, Delphanus remembered, through the very field that the boy was in. He remembered, like it was yesterday, how the great man himself, when saw the boy, picked him up, and laid him to rest.

His thought then flowed again through the passages of time. He thought about this great man; the second father of his. He remembered how the man adopted him, as they returned - no, as Telemos returned, while he went - to Argos. He grew up there, in the city, as if he was one of his sons. Indeed, he was loved. He became a friend of the aristocratic Telemos' only son: Arrhidaeus. He was trained, as well; trained in the arts, philosophy, rhetorics, and all the schools he went through. He grew up there for seven long and content years until he was called in by his adopted father into a secret meeting of the leading councillors of Argos.

He remembered that a few people was in the room, one of them his adopted father, Telemos. These men were, in effect, the leaders of Argos. He was rather shocked. Unsure what to do, he stood frozen, until somebody said something.

And it was Telemos who said something to him: "Ah, my son. You must have wondered why did I called you here."

He remembered how, in his surprise, said nothing more than: "Yes, father."

"That is because...we've decided to use you in our latest diplomatic mission." the man said.

"Diplomatic mission!?" Delphanus remembered how he was shocked by the surprise, "but, father, are you sure it's right to send a young boy in a diplomatic mission instead of a trained diplomat?"

But it was another man who answered, the man who sat nearest to his father. "Yes, boy. We have decided that it will be more...beneficial if we use you instead of a proper diplomat. We are sending you to Alexandria, on a merchant ship. Do not ask why! This mission is a secret. I will tell you, before you leave tonight. that.."

He remembered how he himself interrupted the man by saying: "Tonight?"

"Yes, tonight," his adopted father repeated the man's word, "the reason is, we could not use a 'proper diplomat' or it wouldn't be a secret mission. There is at least one spy from Macedon here in Argos. Do you remember what I said about Macedon?"

Yes he could. He knew they were the ones responsible for the death of his real family. Though he knew it later on when his adopted father told him. All he did was, however, nodded.

"Good," he continued, "you will request an alliance from Pharoah Ptolemy of Egypt against Macedon. I believe - rather, I'm sure - that you've learned enough of the history and rhetorics to complete this mission. Now go, I will explain the details later to you."

He could remember all this very clearly. When he prepared to leave in the merchant ship, how his father came to say goodbye.

"Son, I have this last advice for you. I know you have the skills to achieve many things. Argos is, however, not the place. I raised you for seven long years and I know war is not a part of you. The Greek cities and Leagues are preparing to defend themselves from Macedon as we speak. There are several skirmishes fought already, and Macedonian spies are everywhere. Son, heed my word: if you ever get the chance to enter into the Pharoah's employment, do it! You will have a brighter future there than here."

It was just three weeks ago.

Suddenly a knock on the door revived Delphanus' conscience. Somebody was calling. Delphanus opened the door. The same servant was there.

"Sir, lord Mathodus wishes to see you immediately."

"At the same place?"

"No sir, I will lead you, sir."

"Alright, did he tell you why?"

"Yes. He said your training has begun."

END OF ACT I

---------------------------------------------

I think it's time to move the storyline again.

EDIT: Change Telemon to Telemos and Arhichedes to Arrhidaeus by the advice of Cataphract of the City

Very nice story Antiochus.

Just a few comments on names. Telemon and Arhichedes are wrong. Perhaps you were going for originality but they don't make any sense as Greek names.

Oh..okay, my bad.

Do you know any sources that I can find many Greek names for ordinary people? I don't think a lot of them got exact same name, so I tried something. It would be great if you know where can I find real Greek names so I can be more...realistic. :bow:

Luckily I'm not writing about Carthage...

Hanno the Great - Great King, crucified
Hanno the Great - How come he's great!?
Hanno - not so great
And....Hanno
Mago - I
Mago - II
Hannibal - died in battle
Hannibal Barca - killed himself, guess who?
Hannibal - crucified
Hasdrubal - anyone of them
Hasdrubal Barca - (exist?)
Hasdrubal the Fair - stabbed by a Celt
The Last Hasdrubal, enslaved at the fall of Carthage

Or may be he's not the last...some Hasdrubal must be crucified

Oh, and Hamilcar, preferably Barca "Lighting" ~D

EDIT: Change Telemon to Telemos and Arhichedes to Arrhidaeus by the advice of Cataphract of the City

i never even knew about this forum.. the stories here are great.. i've really enjoyed reading them!
perhaps i will begin a story of my own.. a project for the future i think!

Thanks, Craterus. You are really enthusiastic about this forum, are you? 400 posts in less than a month!

I'm sorry for missing for a long time. I just finished Cowboy Bebop not so long ago and it literally changes my life forever! Never underestimate a true anime. I spent two full days unable to think of anything but mourning the death of Spike Spiegel, and that theme song is now still in my head...

And now real life sets in, I won't be able to fill it up for a little while...

ACT II

:bow:

P.S. I've been missing for a very long time...

-Part XIII: Palace of Pella-

"Prince, we are ready for the invasion."

"Good. Send word to the troops. We march!"

Prince Herakles of Macedon marched proudly out of the gates of the city of Pella. Ah, the great walls and tower of the Argeads, strengthened and expanded by the Antigonids; Pella was a great city and a proud seat of a rising empire. Today, prince Herakles was again taking the fields of war to expand such an empire once more.

This time: into Greece.

By direct order of king Antigonus, Herakles was to invade Hellas and finish the city-states of Greece in their moment of weakness. The recent Macedonian campaigns had left them vulnerable for direct invasion. It was now or never. Besides, he could still remembered, barely a month ago, of the return from Rhodes...

It was some days past, but the prince once again returned to the familiar sights of Pella under the cover of the night. Careful, he entered the port of the lake without much notice. Then, he proceeded through the city; Pella under the moon of Artemis was a graceful sight to behold. With her unmoving fountains, moon-shining roofs, silent and marvelous marble streets, looming great walls, and the magnificent towers of the palace; Pella stood, even in the dark, as the testament of ancient glories Macedon once held. Prince Herakles observed his beloved city with quiet pride and joy, even as he moved soundlessly across the silent streets. Such peace in such a violent world.

Pella was his home.

However, when he finally reached the end of a long street, he reached his destination. The palace of Pella was the testament of the power of Alexander the Great. Full of glorious halls, tall pillars, graceful sculptures, and golden artifacts; the lost glories of the Argead dynasty was reflected all across the palace. Now, the Antigonids lived within it, ruling above Macedonia as proud successors of their former lords, but little else.

Prince Herakles was admitted into the palace, went across the palace halls, and entered the hall of Philip II, where the throne stands. Once he entered the hall, which has been lit bright by olive oil lamps tied to the pillars, he saw a figure sitting on the throne. The king of Macedon, Antigonus, old and grey with age, yet tall and proud with the air of a great warrior - a great leader - was waiting.

"Welcome back, Herakles, how goes your journey?" the king started.

"I had a smooth journey, your highness," the prince answered, and bowed his head low.

"Hm! There is no need for formalities here, my nephew. We are in private now," the king spoke, rather displeased with the prince's formal reactions.

"Aye, uncle. The wind was fine and the gods were merciful. Now, to business..." Herakles answered comfortably.

"That's better. How goes your business, then?" the old king asked.

"It has been successful, uncle. King Seleucus agreed to an alliance, he would keep Ptolemy occupied for a while, and would not interfere if we made offensive against Greece." prince Herakles answered, yet, a worried expression remained on his face.

Noticing, the king said: "Excellent, but..."

Herakles took the clue. "But I discovered disturbing news about the Ptolemaic movement. It seems Ptolemy has been signing many pacts of alliance with the Greeks lately. Most of the major factions in Greece are already in his fold, and, with his gold, their unification against us would be much easier."

"Hmm," the king groaned thoughtfully, "this threat must be negated before it festers and grows. Alright, what do you think about a direct invasion of Greece?"

"That is a good thing, uncle, in my opinion. They would unite anyway and our recent successes against them leave them weak and vulnerable right now. We would probably dissolve the major threats if we strike hard and fast enough." Herakles said, rather confident.

"Yes, then I leave it to you to prepare for the invasion. Gather at least fifty thousand men and make sure you set out next month. Draw up your plans, I'll look into it." the king said.

"Invasion?" Herakles was surprised, "Erm...thank you, your highness. I'll prepare the plans, it will be ready for discussion tomorrow. Anything else, uncle?"

"Nothing," the king responded, and Herakles turned to leave, "wait. Make sure you got enough rest. The war will be exhausting."

"Thank you, uncle."

And he walked away, to his residence in the palace, to prepare his plans. "His" residence was actually an elegant set of rooms, baths, and gardens that the prince himself rarely occupied. Indeed, it was empty almost all the time.

The Antigonid prince was, in a way, the ever-moving hand of Macedon.

And this hand had moved again towards the south: to Greece and glory.

--------------------------------------

Finally I'm back! Sorry for missing for a long time.

-Part XIV: Split Forces-

Prince Herakles of Macedon rode across the lush green terrain that filled out the mountains and valleys of Thessaly. Behind him was a force of great strength; the royal army of Macedon was marching south to Greece. The Phalangite descendants of old, heroic generations of Macedon marched in the middle line; the baggage train, filled to the brim with war supplies, next to them; the light infantry, Thracians, and peltasts covered the phalanxes' flanks; the light cavalry, Xyston-carrying riders, guarded the rear; and, in front just behind the general-prince, the Hypaspists and Companions marched. All of them were confident. Herakles was an experienced general with a long line of success attributed to him. He had been Macedon's greatest general of his age, and he still was.

Then he saw a rider rode towards him from the front, cutting through the horizon with rushing speed. A messenger.

As soon as the rider came close enough, the prince noted the man's banner on his chest as the Antigonid royal star, and ordered the entire column to stop, waiting for the approaching horse and man. The messenger rode with such speed that it took no time at all before he reached the front of the army. Herakles immediately shouted question, even before the messenger could jumped down from his horse: the purpose, and message, of the hurried rider.

"What business leads you here."

"Sir, I rode...rode from Corinth here as fast as possible," he said, gasping for breath as he nearly collapsed upon landing on the ground.

"Corinth?"

"Y...Yes sir. I am stationed at the citadel of Corinth...w...well, I was."

"What is the situation?"

"W..We have been attacked sir," the man said with a worried voice, still searched for breath, "the Spartans had besieged Corinth, they seemed to be leading a new league of alliance between the treasurous cities. Rumor has it that Megalopolis, our loyal ally, is in the same situation."

"Sparta? How could they know of our plan..." the prince thoughtfully considered the matter.

"I don't think they knew your invasion plans before, sir," the messenger interrupted, recovered a bit from his continuous ride, "we in Corinth have witnessed several suspicious changes within Sparta lately. It seems that their king, Kleomenes, is intending to revive Sparta's power in the Peloponnese by driving us out of there."

"Hm! How large is the enemy's army at Corinth?" Herakles asked.

"Estimated thirty thousand men, sir. Though that's only a part of the uprising rebels. There are many more coming, and rumor has it that the entire Peloponnese, including Argos, Sparta's old rival, joined in this new Peloponnesian League. Only Megalopolis remains on our side. We request your help, sir! We need relieve forces or Corinth would be starved out!" the man responded in a swift and anxious manner.

"A full-scale uprising? Damn it! Ptolemy's hand is swifter than I though!" Herakles said, enraged.

"Go then," the prince continued, "Go and request food supply from the baggage captain. Then join the rear guard, soldier."

"Yes sir."

As the man left, Herakles thought about it, and then quickly called his captains. Three men rode forward: Phocus, his loyal servant and bodyguard; the captain of the Companions, Leukos of Pydna; and the deputy general, the veteran Damasos.

"What do you think?" the prince questioned them.

Phocus said first: "we have to continue with the original plan sir. The Athenians and Thebans must be defeated first as they pose a threat to our supply route and Thessaly. If they attack, which they will, we will be isolated."

Leukos disagreed, "but then Corinth will fall! The city is too important to our plans of Peloponnese domination to let go. Remember, Ptolemy is seeking a way to interfere in Greece, and he would start there. I'd say, attack Sparta directly and swiftly and forced them to leave to defend their homeland. If Sparta retreats, the league will fall apart. If Sparta falls, the Peloponnesian Greeks' fate will be sealed."

Damasos was furious, "but then we would have no supply lines at all! How, then, would you break Sparta and break it quick? A single battle lost and our isolated force will be doomed. We should save Corinth first and then storm Athens and Thebes with speed. Reinforcements from the king would keep them busy long enough for us to deliver a battle against the impeteous league."

"What about our ally, Megalopolis?" the prince interrupted.

All three turned their heads and gazed upon the prince. Uncertainty was in their faces. Silence.

"We cannot just leave them to their own devices," he continued, "the city may has been known to be able to resist long sieges, but, if the league fails at Corinth, and we turn back to Boetia and Attica, the Spartan-led league will no doubt launch a full-scale assault on Megalopolis."

"And they will lose but, even if they succeed." Phocus suggested.

"And no one will ever ally with Macedon anymore, since the royal Macedonian army abandons its loyal friends to their fate," Damasos proceeded, "or we can lower the campaign objectives to subdueing Attica and Boetia only. With Athens and Thebes out of the picture, and Corinth saved, we will have free hands for further acts."

"But then Ptolemy will certainly interfere," the prince said, "since this sudden rise of the Peloponnese under Sparta can only be his act. Certainly he will send in major invasion forces as 'reinforcements.' Remember, Crete is in his hands and Rhodes is pro-Egypt. The Ptolemaic fleet will have an easy time landing on a friendly Messenian or Argive shores."

Leukos then gave the idea, "the threats are too many for protracted war. We must strike like lighting of Great Zeus across Hellas if we are to succeed in this campaign. There must be a way to save both Corinth and Megalopolis by a swift action. I still suggest we find a way to strike at the city of Sparta directly. If it falls, again, the league will crumble."

They thought for a while, each finding his own solution of the sudden rise of the Greeks. With impatient troops waiting behind them, on the road; they thought until the prince smiled.

"Sparta has no walls, right?" he suddenly said.

"They have one now, sir," Damasos suggests, "but it is just a simple palisade. Nonetheless, even if we managed to forced-march across Peloponnesia uninterrupted, the Spartans will be able to fortify their city with temporary defenses. Just like Pyrrhus' time."

"But if we get there unnoticed, and be swift and deadly..." the prince continued.

"With powerful, deadly, and swift cavalry, torches and swords in hand, lighting charge out of the hills from nowhere to quickly ride down the townsfolk. Set the city on fire, occupy it for a week, to ensure the Spartans will abandon their sieges, and left, back to nowhere. Is that what you suggest, sir?" Phocus said.

"You know my mind," the prince said, his smile grew wider.

"But how would you get to Sparta, from nowhere?" Leukos asked.

"We are currently near the sea. Our fleet is currently on standby right now, in Demetrias. The admiral would spare some of his swiftest ships for a surprise landing near Sparta, wouldn't he, if I ordered? In fact, you will lead this expedition, Leukos. Listen carefully, here is your briefing: sail as swift as you can towards Sparta. Avoid land along the way as much as possible. Make your landing as quiet as possible, and make sure the Spartans don't know about your forces until it is too late. Once reach Sparta, cause as much damage as possible, as fast as possible. Set the city on fire, and occupy the place for at least one week. Leave as soon as the Spartans in the field realize your position, and get furious enough. Then, it would be in our best interests if you, after leaving the Spartan shores, continue raiding the shores along the way back to Piraeus, which will be our rendezvous point. It will provoke fear on that part of Peloponnesia, and the cities there would recall their armies. Lead two thousand Companion Cavalry from here immediately. Go east, to Demetrias. Be quick!" the prince said all these excitedly. It may be a sudden thought, but he was sure it would be the most innovative undertaking he had ever taken, yet. He would prove to the king his worth, if he could overwhelm the rising odds, and crush Sparta in the moment of its renewed pride.

Leukos barely collected all the briefings he just recieved with very high speed. It took him a short, tiny moment to realize that he had just been ordered to command a daring expedition that is a classic combination of the characteristic Antigonid swift and stern attack as well as the deadly breach on the Greeks' nerves. All he could said was : "Yes sir!"

Then he rode to the companions, slowly at first, then faster. He shouted orders to them to follow him, then rode east. The men professionally followed, little words were needed. Suddenly, two thousand finest elite warriors of Macedon rode away to Demetrias, looking for war.

The other two captains rode back to their places in the silent, amazed column. Herakles gazed on the setting sun, falling on the horizon, behind the mountains. He smiled, sighed, and continued the march.

They would reach Thermopylae tomorrow.

--------------------------------

Silence... My work is getting ignored. It may be that bad... ~:handball:

Ah, long time no see. I've been RTR crazed and school-crazed for a while. Now that the preview is out, I'm satisfied...

So comes back to the story:

-Part XV: Wise Woman of Argos-

Argos was one of the most ancient - and most prestigious - cities in the old Hellas. It was once, after all, the capital of Greece. Under the legendary kings Pelops, Orestes, and others Argos was the blessed realms of heroes and gods.

Now it was a republic in decline.

Telemos the Just, a prominent nobleman who was once the patron and foster father of the young Ptolemaic diplomat Delphanus, looked down from his old, elegant house into the slowly lightening street. It was the same day in which the Macedonian invader split his forces in two, but he knew not. All he knew was that a great war was coming.

His wife, a forty-years old dignified lady with admirable manners and calmness, looked at him worriedly.

"Honey, are you alright?" she questioned.

"Yes," he answered, lifted from the inner thought by her words. "I am," he continued, and turned back into his worried thought. However, she would not give up, and continued, "but you are not alright. I know about the upcoming war, honey. I know that other cities are rallying against Macedon, and are pressuring Argos to join them. I know, so stop worrying. It doesn't help at all trying to worry." Then she added, "You can talk to me."

Intrigued, Telemos gazed at his wife in wonder. Normally, a Greek woman, even of noble birth, will neither know or care about the complex politics and world events. Only the refined women in the form of Athenian high-class prostitutes, or the wisest of minds among the riches, could have a chance to develop such interests. Few indeed ever know or care about this, and Telemos' wife was one of them. 'The gods has blessed me with this woman as my wife' he often thought, and, relieved, he began to speak.

"But they are STUPID! These Spartan-led fools don't KNOW what is Macedon's REAL power! I've faced them! Foolish young men! And now, the young and the fools in Argos are calling for war! They will bring our city to RUIN!" quite shocked by his own angry words as he let out his mind, Telemos stopped, embarrassingly looked at his wife.

He was surprised to see her smiling.

She walked slowly to sit beside him, near the window, and held her hand around her husband. Smiling, she said: "Honey, why don't you tell me before? It is a norm that young men who had never went to war would seek one, in an age where patriotism of the city runs high, especially when it is suppressed. Athens once had much of these young men, who died en mass in front of Syracuse more than a century ago. Now, Macedon had successfully subdued us Greeks and put down the attempted revolt for freedom once and again so that the older of us would understand their true power, where the younger generations knows not. So it happened, again and again, until either side would die off or another power will interfere."

Telemos, now smiled with relief for someone to talk with, continued the conversation, "I fear we will be the one to die off first, honey. These poor young men would bring themselves either to death or slavery beneath the cruel whips of Macedon. Though all we really have to do is defeating them once, and they would not bother us; unfortunately, that I do not believe is possible."

"So, what shoul... could we do then?" she asked.

Telemos smiled a sad smile, and answered, "Nothing. Nothing of real worth. For it is inevitable that Argos would join this curseful league as there are too many young men so eager for war and so-called freedom they are seeking. What, then, could an old nobleman of a previous age do about this?"

He looked at her desperately, hoping, even though not expecting, for an answer. But the dignified and wise lady of this house surprised him again when she answered him with such prudence and wisdom unexpected from a woman.

"You have been mistaken, my love. For you can do much more than that. Argos needs a proper general, a man of previous age who knows how to lead inexperienced young men. Why, then, would we sit here mourning about an inevitable defeat, while we could do much more? You are Telemos, the Argive general who has defeated countless opponents before. Neither the pirates, the bandits, nor even the Spartans could defeat you. Now, the people of Argos needs you once more."

"But this war is hopeless from the start! I have no doubt if our great enemy in the north would bring his full might down upon us in such a fashion that none could resist," he protested, then looked at her again. Her graceful face was filled with pity, even as the corner of her mouth moved up once again.

"None could resist, honey? I really doubt that the Antigonids are the most powerful force in the world since they rule little more than Macedonia proper. Indeed, another Macedonian power should be turned against them. How about Ptolemy, whom your stepson went to find a fortune under?"

"He would interfere, had not been because of the slyness of the Macedonians. It is well-known that Ptolemy is fully occupied by a new Syrian war against Seleucus who has been sponsored by Antigonid gold. Who else, then, would come to our aid?" Telemon continued.

"Then you must lead them yourself," she answered. The smile on her face had already been replaced with a determination, as she understood her husband's concern. "The fiery minds of the Argive youth who would go to this war must be held back by the restraint of a respected, wiser mind. They would only listen to you, the war hero of years past. For I believe, as I'm sure you too believe, that this new league would soon be under attack."

Telemos prepared to answer, but he was interrupted. A voice was calling from outside.

"Lord Telemos, the council requests your presence immediately."

"Alright," Telemos shouted out of the window, then, as he jumped off his chair and prepared to leave, turned to his wife, "underattack? Yes, they will, as we speak, I fear."

Great work on the story, Antiochus. I particulary like your lush descriptions . ~:) I do admit, I'm fairly ignorant on the successor states, although I can still follow the plot and the accompanying political intrigue there.

One suggestion: try to play with some of the sentences to give it a better flow. Example:

"Then he saw a rider rode from the front, cutting through the horizons with speed, towards him."

A bit disjointed. It can be:

"Then he saw a rider from the front cutting through the horizon and speeding towards him."

Just a simple tinkering of the words. :charge:

Thanks for the advice, Quietus. I see now that I often have problems with sentences. Thanks for the encouragement, too, even though I can't write that often anymore - exams are coming, and sickness overwhelms.

I think my writing skills may be too weak in clearing things. Actually - the three major successor states I putted in here were the Ptolemaics (playing an unusual "good guy" role for the moment, patronizing my often-forgotten Delphanus), Seleucids (whose roles will come later - I plan for some bloody battles with them and Ptolemy - currently my plot really lacks bloodshed - for now...), and Antigonids (Macedon - the enemy, but also, I put the Macedonian prince in as another major player, probably the second-most important or the third currently, up to the plot that will be coming as whether who will win the struggle.) Otherwise, two major Greek cities, Argos and Rhodes, currently have important roles in the plot. Admittedly, I must be careful not to expand the scope too wide until I deal with each individual "conflicts" of the cities, concentrating, right now, on Argos and the Greek uprising under Spartan banner against Macedon...

Kinda confusing... the fault of being the first major story I've ever written, O woe! ~:)

Why, O sickness! Thou tortured me with thy cruel whips. Curse thee, Apollo, whose deadly arrows poisoned the physics of man. :P

-------------------------------------------------------

-Part XVI: Rally of War-

When the noble Telemos went swiftly towards the agora of Argos upon the bidding of the council, he did not expect the sight that he would see. He had expected that he would be called upon by a small council of elders under the need of advice; what he found, though, was a meeting of thousands - it seems as if the entire citizens of Argos was the "council" the messenger spoke of. 'No doubt,' he thought, 'a great event, for good or bad, is happening.'

The image in which Telemos had seen was not an everyday image in Argos, or anywhere for that matter. Though the agora of this city, like many others in Greece, had always been crowded and full of activity; rarely did it saw the meeting of such a great host of men. The young, the old, the noble, and the humble - all were there, circled around the center of the agora where the prestigious elders of the Argive aristocracy, members of the council of elders, stood. These men - a great crowd indeed - were shouting, talking, boasting, and gathering together even as Telemos approached the agora. The noise was great, and so the confusion. However, at the very moment Telemos was noticed coming towards to agora, the silence stepped in.

All eyes were gazing on the approaching figure of the only citizen of Argos still outside the agora: Telemos.

Then, as the people in the agora realized who was coming, the cheer went up. The citizens of Argos began to shout "Welcome!" to their old hero. Clearly, Telemos was not an ordinary figure in Argos; he was the living hero of the lost years of previous glory who, in his prime, was an awe-inspiring general whose service to the Republic of Argos was immeasurably valuable. Among the many enemies he managed to defeat was Sparta, Argos' ancient and most hated rival. Even Macedon suffered a defeat under him once, when all odds were that Argos would fall. Yet, as the man himself knew, all these were just...past.

Then, as the cheer went down and silence began to reassert her place among the crowds, the head of Argos' elder council, an aristocratic man sixty years of age, invited Telemos towards the center of the agora. As he walked there, the elder man opened his arm in greetings.

"Welcome, Telemos. You are not busy when we called you up here, I believe?"

"No, my friend. I am never busy if the council - the city - requires my service." He answered, knowing that the crowd listened intently his every word.

"Well said, old friend! Well said indeed. For the council - the city, in fact - requires your service this time," the elder responded.

"And what would that be?" Telemos questioned. The elder man stepped close and whispered to Telemos' ears: "The citizens of Argos has already voted on the issue of whether or not we should join the upcoming war on the Spar... Greek side. I'm sorry we didn't call you then; I know you oppose the war and so am I and the rest of the elders. Unfortunately, the young men who made the majority of our citizens were aroused to war by the prospect of glory and patriotism. Young men's folly, I know! But...I don't want you to came here early and give out an anti-war position. It is too late, and will only damage your image in the eyes of those young enthusiasts. We need you as our general, and a general must never oppose the war he fight, publicly. Now, would you forgive me for this and get up there on that stage to give out a rally speech or two?"

As surprised as he was of how much was going on without his knowledge, and quite troubled by the crowd's curious eyes of what was going on between the two men, Telemos managed to answer, intentionally loudly, to a whispered request. "Of course! How would I deny your request? War is with us and I will gladly take the place I once took when I brought down the arrogant Macedonian Star of Virgina at Thera years ago. Why - I would be glad to be on a battlefield once more!"

The citizens cheered, mistaken the whisper made by the head of the elder councillor in front of the public as a briefing. Telemos then jumped up on the stage at the center of the crowd and, though he himself never believed he was any good when it comes to speeches, began to speak:

"Citizens of Argos! I am Telemos, your fellow citizen. I have heard, as you heard, that the war for the freedom of Hellas is coming. I have heard of the gathering league; of the hoplons and spears that were taken up once more; of cities rallying for war; and the messages of call-to-arms spreading like wildfire across Hellas. Today, by your judgement, Argos will go to war. She will join in this glorious undertaking, and participate in the liberation of Hellas. Therefore, I beseech you: take up your gears of war once more, O fellow citizens! Prepare yourself! You and I are Argives - proud men of Argos; descendants of the Danaans of Pelops; of the empire of the house of Atreus, descendants of light-bearing Zeus; and of the Achaeans, the famous people who brought down the fabled walls of Troy! The spirits of Agammemnon, Ajax, Diomedes, and the rest of the legendary heroes of Hellas runs in you. We will not bow to the cowards that are the Macedonians. We will march with our fellow Greeks towards new victory and a brighter day. We will march, with the Gods on our side, and Nike's blessing with us, to meet our foes with the pride of our motherland. Prepare yourself, men of Argos. For tomorow, we march!"

As Telemos stepped down from the stage, the audiences of his speech applauded madly. The cries of rally - hunger for battle - filled the sky, and the eyes of men reigned with undaunted fire. Even the elders, disapproved though they were of the war, applauded Telemos' speech as a good omen in which even the most difficult of all undertakings may actually succeed. Though, among all this, the man who gave the speech himself secretly sighed.

'The speech is not impressive at all,' he thought to himself, 'it is the ears of men eager for rallying cries, no matter how meaningless they are, that makes my speech rousing and seemed so powerful. Indeed, my heart forbade this adventure, but there is no return now. Why - what else could I do?' he lamented to himself, deep in thought, ignoring the high spirits around him, 'forgive me, Argives.'

And with that, he walked away from the agora, looking for rest at home, and to prepare for the next day's gathering, in which the army of Argos will leave the city - with doubts of return. Though, as he walk, the crowds cheered and he forced himself to put up straight, acting as if he was a champion of the Olympics leaving the games with victory, he still lamented.

For Telemos knew very well that a war can never be won just by words - rousing as they were to men's spirits, words alone could not hope for victory. Nonetheless, if war comes, one must fight with what he has, the way he could, and, if all fails, falls with dignity. Why - Telemos of Argos, in his hidden despair, cursed with wisdom that allows the understanding of the true might of the foe he was about to face, prepared himself for all that could happen.

The next day, he will leave Argos - and doubts of returning hung in the air.

-Part XVII: The Swift Strike that Soak Sparta with Blood-

Leukos of Pydna, the Macedonian captain of the Companions, rode in front of his two thousand cavalrymen in almost complete silence. He had been sent by his general and lord, prince Herakles of Macedon, to perform a task that would be crucial in the intensifying struggle. For this mission, he had been supplied with two thousand Companion Cavalry - among the finest heavy cavalry forces available to any nation anywhere. Proud descendants of the noble Companions of Alexander the Great; those who served as the conqueror's hammer of war: they were trained and armed to the teeth, expected to charge-fight-kill, perform them swiftly, and come out victorious in every situation. This day, they came for an ultimate prize; the only city in the entire Hellas that was never subdued by Macedon before, Sparta.

Indeed, the whole undertaking was undoubtedly blessed by the Gods, for it must be only through fortune and the wills of the Gods that allows him to reach Lacedaemonia virtually undetected. After Leukos departed from the prince Herakles at the crossing in Thessaly, he headed straight towards Demetrias, the major port founded by the legendary Antigonid king Demetrius Poliorcetes. There, he managed to procure a number of swift transport ships from the Macedonian fleet stationed there. And, following his prince's orders to the word, he sailed swiftly towards Sparta, successfully avoiding any contact along the way, and took the shore when he reached Lacedaemonia, the land of the Spartans.

Soon enough, the scouts he sent returned to him with the news that he sought: Sparta was only over the next valley. Why - Leukos went through all this way for the moment: to attack the unwary city! Then, as he looked back towards his mighty troops and their determined gazes, he smiled. Leukos of Macedon now remembered a parting saying given to him by the prince Herakles before they departed: "Pray to Ares when fight Athens, and pray to Athena when fights Sparta."

He did exactly as he was told, and told his troops to do so. Why - the determined gazes of the Companions changed into amused smiles as they followed his instructions. The coming battle would decide the validity of this claim!

Then, they marched off - swiftly and secretly so.

When Leukos reached the top of the hill, and saw, to his two eyes, the Spartan city he was searching, he smiled again. Still hidden from detection, even though he was very close to the city already, Leukos observed that the city had virtually no defences at all. The palisades that were reported were only rumors, and Sparta, in her unsurpassed arrogance, remained unwalled; all the men of war, Spartans and allies alike, were far away; the citizens remained ignorant of the approaching threat. Within minutes, Leukos decided that the moment had come.

The horn of war was sounded, and a voice rang above the valley of Spartans:

"CHAAARRRGGGEEEE!!!"

And the battle began.

The cavalrymen of the Antigonids charged downhill towards the shocked city. Their spears were raised into attack position even as their mighty horses' hoofs crushed the grasses beneath their feet. Leukos in front of them all, the Macedonian warriors headed for the streets. Within seconds, the first targets came to sight, and the spears tasted Spartan blood. The women and young children screamed with shock, unable to protect their city; the old and the young men who did not went with their king Kleomenes into campaign in foreign lands tried to pick up their weapons and protect Sparta, but to no avail. Even the spears of the Macedonian riders were longer than theirs, and the bloodthirsty warrior relentlessly pursued the people within the city, killing and burning as they went.

Sparta was not a complex city, and soon the Macedonians began a systematic mission of destruction. The Companion cavalry was well-suited for the purpose: swift, ruthless, determined, skilled, and professional; nothing would stand in their way and nothing would delay them.

Soon enough, the blood of Spartans began to soak the streets red.

The great hall of Sparta in which all men were to met and feast and decide the fate of their city was soon breached. Leukos himself broke in the gates with the might of his horse. It was a great slaughter - the Macedonians riding all over the streets hunting and killing all those who were living. Houses were broken in and burned swiftly and ruthlessly so, people were murdered the very moment they were found, and the cavalrymen of Macedon refused to end the slaughter even after they took control of the entire city. Their goal was clear: they sought no subjugation.

Seeing how the Macedonians managed to reach and pillage every part of their city, and quickly understood Macedon's goal, the young men of Sparta, who gathered together in several dark corners of the streets, charged out of their hiding places with desperation. Though the counter-attack surprised the Companions of Macedon, it was not long before these young men routed, their spirits broke, pursued around the streets of their own homes like stray dogs, and killed, one by one.

Yet, these men of war, bloody in their pursuits, with their blood-soaked spears and swords, were not simple bandits. No treasures were taken: they distracted and weighted. Not a single rape happened, unusual though it was for such an attack of such scale. These men were elites: they knew what they came for, and nothing that distracts them would came in the way. Indeed, they took pride in their soon-to-be new fame as the destroyers of Sparta.

It was a long, bloody day for all. But when it ended, Sparta was no more. The Antigonids had succeeded in what Pyrrhus of Epirus, and many others before, failed. The city was not only brought to heels, but was burned; the blood-soaked bodies of her people filled the streets; the smoke filled the sky; the valley of Lacedaemonia became utterly a scourged land where no living population could be found. The smell of blood reached, as was lamented later on, as far as Olympus.

All this happened in a day.

Yet, even as Leukos' men emptied the city of its lives, he himself prepared for a future plan. He observed from a bloodied window of a Spartan house the coming sunset. Helios' red light mourned the day's slaughter, and the black ruins of Sparta were glittered with red light. The streets, though, could not shine; they had been soaked too much with human blood, and the smells of the dead were torturous. Thus, by the time Helios had left the sky, Leukos sounded the horn again and called his men together once more.

"We cannot stay here, among the corpses of those whom we kill. Though there is a plan to carry, we will move to another valley, where escape would be easier and the destruction less obvious. Come, men. Move!"

The Companions swiftly followed his orders, leaving the ruins behind. Soon, they were encamped in a forest only a valley away from the destroyed city. One by one, they fell asleep, exhausted by the day's slaughter. Soon enough, as silence settled in and the night grew dark, only one man was left awake, and he looked above him into the black emptiness, hoping, perhaps, for a glittering night sky from the Gods.

There were no stars that night.

Hello AntiochusIII,

Is still life in this story? So far it is the best you have written and I would be sorry not to know how it ends.