Stories Thread

[00jebus]

Sidon market distict, 265

Cadeyren and Timarchos were looking at armour and swords, Cadeyren, although used to loud noise, kept his fingers in his ears when nobody was talking to him, eventually Timarchos had enough, it was starting to spoil his good mood

"ok, I give in, whats wrong old friend? nobody stabbed you did they? its not some Galatian thing when you kill another celt?"
"No, neither of them, its just, I never did like the market, always seemed to me too much like chaos, not like a battle or camp, then theres order to the noise.."
"chaos? this is economics!"
"gah! have you decided yet? I really need a drink"
"gods, cheer up, if I'm not mistaken I've just earned myself a promotion... that means I'm buying"
a small smile crossed Cadeyrens face, Timarchos picked out a new curiass and helmet to replace his old dented kit and a new Xiphos, and asked the clerk how long it would take too make, being told it would be ready before the end of the week.

Timarchos turned to Cadeyren
"before we go, have the new lads settled in ok?"
"ok? for some weird reason they love you, I can only guess that they havn't got to know you yet..."
"ha, or the burly galatian that wanders round after me making sure I've killed people properly"
"its not my fault your technique is sloppy, you get the hang of it and I can get on with my proper job of making sure the men kill people properly"

happy his friend was back to normal, his promotion probably secure, and the city was safe Timarchos wasted no time in telling his messangers that his troops could take the week off, for he deffinantly planned too

[00jebus]

barrakcs at Sidon, 265

Timarchos woke early, not by choice, the banging and crashing these new recruits were making during training was driving him mad, and no matter how often he threatened them with disembowlment, castration and evisaration, they still woke him during early morning drills

swearing, he rolled out of bed as a constast series of boots stamping on the ground shaked the thin walls of the barracks, he poked his head out of his window and shouted after the goup
"Gods! That should sound like a drum! none of you are eating till you get this right!"
A slave came running to dress him, Timarchos busied himself by looking at his statue of the smiling fat man and again wondered what it could be, he decided it was some kind of Indian version of Zeus, he was then just deciding on what to eat that morning, as that was the other thing the statue reminded him of, when Cadeyren came striding into his room, looking rather cheerful,
"Of course sir, if you trained them celtic style, they wouldn't need to all look the same when they marched, so their captian wouldn't have to march them round every morning, so you could get some more sleep..."
Timarchos looked thoughfully at this before declaring "No, I've got a better idea, pack up everything thats mine, I'm moving out!"
"To where?"
"Have not decided yet, but since I'm planning on spending winter in the city, I'm sure I can find a nice house of some Egyptian merchant that wont need it back for a while, fancy some house shopping today?"
"If you make me decorate this place, I will hurt you...."
"no no, just need your opinion on whats defendable, oh, and keep an eye out for a pool, or three, I want something thats kinda near the centre, preferable a nice garden, maybe a libary too...oh and somewhere for all the slaves...." A happily glazed look clossed over Mysiakes' face
"And the new recruits, who'll inspect them?"
Timarchos was slightly put out by the question... "you will, three times a week, I will once a month, so long as they finish their training before the next term starts, I don't really care, given the amount of time its taking them to get marching right, it will be a while."
A momment passed
"....and good square frontage too... and a wall, I don't want to have to lend people wine when they run out....."

[SwissBarbar]

the Story of

Nikarchos Asterias Syriakes





Chapter 3 – The taste of blood





Nikarchos was still confused and thinking about his vision at the Temple of Marduk when he arrived at his manor house outside Seleukeia. He still did not know what the god intended to say to him, but he came to the conclusion that whatever his fate ought to be, he would find the answer in the west. Nikarchos walked in the gardens of his mansion while his servants and Somatophylakes prepared whatever was necessary for the long journey.

Two days later the fellowship left the manor and were heading for Assyrie, in other words Nikarchos followed Sarpedon Syriakos’ invitation to Ipsos. The journey was quite eventless and so the men enjoyed the beauty of the countryside and Nikarchos used the time to write messages to Seleukeia, where his messenger Galaktíon represented him in the royal council.



They crossed Assyrie and went towards Karkathiokerta, where they intended to overwinter. Karkathiokerta was a small town at the border to the lands of the Hay, who were good friends and faithful allies of the Arche Seleukeia. There they would be save and could get some rest. Though the journey passed quietly, it was very strength-sapping and the men could use a proper bed to sleep in. And maybe some pretty girls keeping company with them. Just in time, when winter announced himself by laying a white coat over the land, Nikarchos and his men arrived.



As anything but the gods must pass, spring displaced winter and the fellowship could move on. They followed the mountains westwards till they arrived in Mazaka. There Nikarchos learned that the Kleronomos Basileion could no longer wait for him, already started war with Pontos and already gained great victories. Nikarchos had missed the first strike. So he decided to stay a bit longer in Mazaka and let his men rest. Though in the first place he was quite sad about the fact, that the pontic war has been started without him, because he was eager for learning about the art of warfare from Sarpedon Syriakos, this coincidence turned out to become his chance to prove himself. Only a few days later, peasants from the countryside went to town and brought bad news. A looting and plundering army of the Haikh, a people living in the lands of Hayasdan and Armenia, were laying waste on the lands near the border to the Kingdom of the Hay. An army of the Hay was chasing them, but the pillagers already were on seleukid lands, so the commander of the Hay, captain Koyroun asked permission to march on Seleukid territory. Nikarchos allowed it under the term that he would be the one leading the allied Armies. 264 BC he left Mazaka with 27 Somatophylakes and rode to the border to Pokr Hayk.



Very soon they detected the enemies and challenged them to fight. The Hay warriors did outnumber the Haikh, but Nikarchos was still quite nervous. This would be his first battle at all. And as if this wasn't enough he was the leader of this army. On the other side of the hill, an army of over 600 men assembled, and every single one of these skilled warriors wanted to kill him. Not very encouraging thoughts, but still he made up his mind to ride into the battle and fight at the very frontline.



When the warriors were ready and Nikarchos had finished his little speech about protecting countries and families, he sent forth the skirmishers



and followed them with his cavallery on the right flank, while the armenian and caucasian spearmen marched behind the skirmishers.



The Haikh archers sent a deadly rain of arrows, but they were to few to make a great difference.



When the armies crashed into each other the armenian spearmen of the Hay could hold the line against the caucasian spearmen of the Haikh. Both sides proceeded with a barbarous cruelty Nikarchos has never dreamt of. When its about theirs lives, men brutalize beyond example.



After getting past the first shock, Nikarchos decided to interfering the battle and attacked the rear of the Haikh spearmen with his Somatophylakes, retreated and attacked again. Once he had killed a man, he was not afraid anymore. It seemed to him, that not himself lead his body into battle. He watched himself slaying enemies and spilling their blood, heard them scream from far away and watched their bodies being crushed by horses.



Under this pressure the enemies soon began to seek refuge in flight. The Haikh commander tried to turn the fortunes of war himself, but died by the spears of the Hays caucasian spearmen.



Also the Haikh skirmishers, more peasants than warriors, were no match for the heavily armed Somatophylakes and were slain quickly.



Many fell by the very hand of Nikarchos himself.



All in all it was a pure massacre. When the fog of war vanished, Nikarchos’ riders had killed over 200 enemies. No Somatophylax died in this battle.





Nikarchos let his men set up a camp. It was too late in the evening to go back to Mazaka and he wanted to rest here and return the next day. This night Nikarchos dreamt of blood and death. He had killed men for the first time in his life, and he was sure that this was not the last time.

The Hay army returned to their lands, thankful for the help of their seleukid friends. This battle was an event that should deepen the relationship of these two nations.


End of the third chapture