[Hayasdan AAR] King of the Valleys

[konny]

Houserules

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

Recruitment is limited by a) the level of the town and b) the class the unit is drafted from. A level 1 town (-2,000 inhabitants) can support one unit of each type, a level 2 town (2,000 – 6,000) can support two of each, level 3 three units, and so on. Each type can have maximum as many units as its class is from a single town. That would be, 5th class soldiers (all units that can be recruited from a level 1 barracks) can form a maximum of 5 units from each town, men from the 4th class (level 2 barracks) can at maximum field 4 units and so on to the 1st class (level 5 barracks) that can only field one single unit from each city where this type of unit can be recruited.

Example: Gund-î Paltâ are 5th class soldiers. They can form a maximum of 5 units from a single town, but only if that town is level 5 (24,000+ inhabitants). In a level 3 town (6,000 – 12,000) they can form up to three units.

Aznvakan Aspet are 1st class soldiers. They can always only form one single unit in every province they exist, but that already from the smallest village. Why? They are noblemen that hold large estates, large enough to provide them with the wealth they need to maintain their exclusive weaponry and fine horses. Their number in a single province can not be raised because that would require raising the number of estates by reducing the size of the existing ones. With smaller estates they would be no longer able to arm themselves as Kataphrakts.

The same goes for all classes of units: at least one of them can be recruited from each province but there is an overall limit. That means that population growth results first of all in the growth of peasant and levy soldiers. Elites are limited. The idea is also to make all units important even if they are pretty much the same by their stats. Kavakaza Sparabara would be Caucasian peasants, Pantodapoi Hellenized townsfolk. Both are of the same class and have about the same stats, but both are limited what might require recruiting them both at a time. Persian Hoplites are fine, but there can be no more than two per city that can raise them.

I do not keep track of the units’ whereabouts, only about the limit of each per town and how many had been raised there already. Once a unit is raised it might be used ad the king’s wishes, be it a garrison in its hometown, a part of the main army or a garrison elsewhere. When a unit is disbanded, annihilated or merged a province that has already raised units of this type and where not all of these are part of the local garrison gets back a “recruitment slot”.


The military budget is usually ½ of the overall income. If the other half produces a surplus after paying for construction, wages and the like, this can be used to pay for mercenaries.


The characters’ ranking is determined by their standing in the royal court. They get “points” according to the system “The King’s Favourite”. All characters that are of the same ethnicity as the king receive one point. His sons +5 points, grandsons, father, brothers +4 points, in-laws +3 points, uncles and nephews +2 points and cousins +1 point. The also get +1 point per every basic character trait they share with the king (sharp, charismatic, pessimistic, dull, vigorous, etc.). That would be a maximum of twelve points for being his son (+5), of the same ethnicity (+1 default as his son) and have all 6 basic traits the same as the king. To this is added (or subtracted) the character’s influence.

This results in a list, and when ever a post of provincial governor is vacant or an army needs a general the next “free” character from the list gets the job. Only when the king happens to be intelligent I also take a look at the character’s qualification and may pick the second or third form the list if he is really much more qualified for the task. Naturally not all characters do really want all jobs. Characters that are lively and optimistic, and don’t have any negative values in command, troop moral or hit points, in general prefer tasks that include a marital challenge, like an army command or governing a province bordering a hostile faction. Characters that are lazy and pessimistic and don’t have any positive values in military traits try to avoid these posts as much as possible. Characters that are not part of the stirps regia prefer to govern the province they came form or serve in an army that is commanded by an ethnic fellow of theirs.

Young boys of 16 usually start by visiting the royal school in Armavir until they are 20. Afterwards, or even occasionally during this time, they join the army to serve among the Khuveshâvagân, the king’s heavy cavalry. When the king seas them fit they might be given a province to rule. There they speak law in the king’s name, supervise the trade and mining, return taxes to the royal treasury, raise soldiers and enforce the king’s supremacy by crushing any resistance or uprising against the crown. Usually these commissions last a live time. In return these noblemen are required to join the king’s forces whenever he summons them. They are the backbone of his army.

Introduction



Apollonides’ career was outstanding so far. Like his father before him he had joined the army of the Makedonian king in Seleukeia. And like his father, and his grandfather before his father serving the great Alexander, he climbed the ladder very fast. The guards, nothing less, it must have been for him, and now with barley 28 he commanded his own unit of Hypaspistai, the king’s favourites. So it was not surprising for him to be summoned to the royal palace, ordered to pick his men, march out for Assyrie and summon more men from the Satrap in Edessa. With these men he should head into Sophene and siege Karkathiokerta until the main army would arrive. That was three month ago.



When Apollonides arrived in Edessa, proudly presenting the Satrap his written orders to get every man he sees fit for campaign and march them North the disappointment begun. Of cavalry there was little. And the few that were there had to stay because they were the only troopers who were able to establish at least a little order in that large province. Of Klerouchoi there had been some 4,000 men. Apollonides ordered about one third of them to arm themselves with javelins and the rest formed his phalanx, what numbered not more than some 2,500 men. Another day the Satrap paraded about 2,000 Jews in the vast gardens behind his palaces. He advertised them as “fine lads, outstanding fighters, best material I’d had here all those years”. Apollonides picked them learning weeks later that the Satrap had palmed him off his worst troublemakers. When a letter arrived from Seleukeia ordering him to begin his campaign “without further hesitation” Apollonides feared for his career what was outstanding so far. In his desperation he ordered the local Psiloi to be armed, a procedure the Satrap called “exceptional” because it had not been done for decades. At least he wouldn’t have dared to do so, but he again would have been doomed to live among the widows and orphans after the campaign. Not so Apollonides, who scarified to Hermes upon his departure that his travels would never again lead him to Edessa.

Marching out with the first dawn of light, despite being advised not do so during the summer months, Apollonides was leading the march of his Tenthousand. His army was composed of his own 1,500 Hypaspistai, 2,500 Klerouchoi Phalangitai another 1,500 Klerouchoi whom he had armed as Pletasts, 2,000 Jews and some 2,500 Greek citizens of Edessa armed with slings and bows. 500 died the first day. After that Apollonides had them marched at night and rest at day until they reached the foothills not far from Karkathiokerta.



Karkathiokerta, once a Seleucid outpost guarding the entrance of the Mesopotamian lowlands now was an Armenian outpost guarding the foothills of the Caucasus. It was some twenty years ago when the war begun, even though it was the Armenians who called it a ‘war’ while Seleukeia did still classify the bloodshed as ‘rebellion’. The trouble had started after Yervand I had made peace with the Steppe people and subdued the lesser kings in the Caucasus, mainly the Egrisi and the Kartli. Technically Yervand of Armenia was something between a livelong Satrap over Armenia and a very junior partner in an alliance with the Seleucids. And even though king Antiochos in Seleukeia approved of the fact that the danger from the North was banned for the time, he did not agree to Armenia triplicate her lands. A King of Armenia he might have controlled, a king of All-Caucasus he couldn’t. So he named two new kings, Kappadokians, for the thrones of Egrisi and Kartli and sent them north, together with some thousand Greek soldiers to reminded Yervand of who after all was King of Kings.

Yervand killed them all including the two kings-to-be from Kappadokia. That way the war between Armenia and Seleucia begun. Antiochos sent a strong force into the mountains, once he learned of the fate of the former expedition. This force was destroyed too, and the next, and the following, and that after it, and so it went on for some twenty years and more than four dozens battles. Parthia and Pontos, two other client kingdoms to the King of Kings learned that it was save to threaten the Seleucids and started their own campaigns against the giant far in the West and far in the East. Yervand died of old age and his son, Samus, grew old but the war still went on.



Samus even was able to conquer more valleys, Pork Hayk to the West, Sophene to the South and, with Parthia’s help, Adurbadegan to the East. And through all those years the Seleucids kept coming. Army after army was sent to the hills and mountains and valleys of Armenia, and army after army they perished in Armenia. But Apollonides knew, this time it would be different…

[Hax]

Best of luck, konny!

Man, the AAR's are really springing up from the ground..especially the Hayasdan ones. As I said, good luck!

[konny]

Book 1 Aram Yervanduni

Chapter 1 Beyond Horizon



“This time it is different.” King Samus was standing behind his son at the entrance of his tent staring out into the rain. “What is different”, asked Aram, “the rain?” “No, the Greeks. Before, they were content with sending small expeditions, but this time they have strong forces massed along the border. 10,000 men are siegeing Karkathiokerta in this very moment, another 8,000 pikemen are coming up the Tigris, more are somewhere around Ekbatana. And then we had this stupid uprising of the Skiuti last year. I don’t belief that had been accidently, just early.” Aram wasn’t used to see his father in a mood like this, “So, what are you planning to do, father?” “Not planning, I have already done! Mher has gathered the noblemen from Hayasdan, the Egrisi as well as those from Kartli. He has just crossed the Tigris. I have also written Sanasar Sharvashean to drop the goblet of wine he was just drinking, forget about the whore he planned to seduce that night and move his most august person together with his men out of Ani-Kamah and on the Royal Persian Road in my direction. That will lead him right into the arms of Karkathiokerta’s besiegers.” Aram went back into the tent, “So you have summoned all of Armenia here.” “Oh, not only Armenia will be here. The Parthians are on the move too, I made sure.” “I don’t get it how you manage to stay on so good terms with those people. After all they are Nomads.” Samus took a sip of wine, sat down, leaned back and closed his “They are horsemen, you see,” he said after some time, “and I have been a horseman too all my life. That’s it.” “Father, are you teaching me,” said Aram somewhat amused, “that when I manage to handle a horse I might as well be able to handle no Nomad?” “You?” Samus opened his eyes again, “no you don’t have it your bones. It is like looking beyond the horizon. And now would you please look after the servants, Mher and the others will be here in no less than an hour.” “Did you learn this by looking beyond the horizon, father?” “No, by a messenger. And now out you go.”



About an hour later the tent was filled with fume from wet greatcoats drying by the fire. Mher has come together with Bagrat Haduni of Kartli and his son of the same name, Arsham, Aram’s brother was there and outside the tent were waiting some 2,000 heavy horsemen from Armenia, what raised the number of Khuveshâvagân in Samus’ army close to 4,000. That and 6,800 Skythian archers, of which 2,000 were mounted, about 4,000 Armenian Nizag spearmen and another 4,000 fierce sword-fighters from the Kartli highlands made the royal army, made Armenia.



Mher used a simple sketched map of the region and he and Samus had some painted stones that they placed on it according to the various forces’ positions. “Vahgan is in Karkathiokerta with a small garrison”, Mher started placing a green stone on the spot, “besieged by some 10,000 Greeks. Another 9,000 or 10,000 are somewhere along the upper Tigris.” He placed two grey stones south and southeast of the green one. “We are here”, another green stone fell on the map, this time further North and East of the grey stones. “Of course there are strong Greek forces in and around Ekbatana.” “To deal with all those pesky Greeks”, the king added more stones to the map; “I have ordered Sharvashean from Ani-Kamah down the Royal Persian Road. And, I have asked our Parthian friends for help, who by this moment must be somewhere here”, where he placed a purple stone on the far East end of the map. “While Artavazd still is in Phraaspa.” The last green stone was placed on the map what now looked much like table for Senet, Mehen or another game.



Everyone was looking on the map, making his own considerations on the situation or was just waiting was the king was going to make out of it. “So we’ve got them, do we?” Aram broke the brief silence. “Yes, we almost do”, said the king. “Either this force on the Tigris joined the besieger of Karkathiokerta, so we can smash them between our three forces, or they joined the army in Ekbatana and we smash them between us and the Parthians, or they would do nothing at all and we can go for Karkathiokerta now and Ekbatana thereafter.” “Depends also whether or not the besieging force keeps up the siege. They cannot be ignorant of their situation”, added Mher. “This Greek army in Karkathiokerta, do we have a name, Mher?” the king asked.



Mher was known for keeping up a large network of spies all along the Tigris and was by far the best source for anything going on the Seleucide side of the river in all Armenia. That ability added to his talents as general and supervisor of the royal treasury. The king had great confidence in this eldest son of his brother in-law, and while some scented civil war between Mher and Aram as soon as the king would have died the truth was that both were on best terms, what only added to Mher’s outstanding position in the royal court. “Yes, we do. Apollonides is the name, in his late twenties, foot guards, celebrated soldier but no command experience. That’s what my source in Edessa had.” “So we can expect some deeds of outstanding bravery but none of generalsship? Good. Let’s have some wine now.”

It only took three days to proof the king right, because what escaped all of Mher’s spies as well as it escaped the attention of all those Skythian horsemen that were swarming around the Sophene highlands in Armenia’s service was the fact that Apollonides had long since abandoned the siege of Karkathiokerta and force marched his men East. In fact so hard did he push his men on foot forward that the mounted messenger sent by Vahgan to inform the king that the siege was lifted did not arrive in the king’s camp before Apollonides had crossed the Tigris. On the next evening he set up camp right under the nose of the Armenian army. “May be, he’ll move on with the first dawn of light”, said Aram to Mher who was watching the Greek camp from a near hill. “I don’t think so”, said the king who just joined them, “as I said, he has guts but no brain. Aram, I want the Skythian horse to camp in those woods to our left, no fire, and no noise. There will be a battle tomorrow, I can see it beyond the horizon.”



The next morning saw both forces deployed ready for battle. Samus had his heavy horse concentrated on the left wing. The Armenian centre was formed by Skythian archers and Armenian spearmen. On the left the sword fighters from Egrisi and Kartli were placed. Apollonides placed his phalanx in the centre, the Jews on the left flank and his own unit of guards on the right flank. The militia together with the Peltasts followed as a second line. The fighting started when Apollonides’ men passed the woods where Samus had hidden his horse arches. One moment his men were marching in perfect formation the next moment hundreds of arrows were flying through the air, both from the woods as from the hill. Men were falling, screaming, dying. And then like the wind of the steppes two thousand Skythian horsemen emerged from the woods, closed in on the panicked Greek militia, showered them with arrows and disappeared in a cloud of dust. “Ye Gods! Move on, move on!”



Young Bagrat Haduni was sitting on his horse somewhere in the middle of the bulk of Khuveshâvagân. His father was in command of the unit next to him. He couldn’t see much, but heard horses galloping, men screaming and the bowmen further to centre of the line shouting commands in their strange language. Bagrat saw his father talking to one of the troopers and pointing downhill. And really, for a short moment he could see something like a walking forest coming up the hill. That at last was the dreaded Seleucide phalanx. Then the royal banner in the centre of the first line before him was tipped. His father shouted to no one in particular, “This is for us! Advance!” And forward moved the body of 4,000 Khuveshâvagân. Bagrat still couldn’t see where they were going to. The phalanx moved more and more to the right of his sight. Now he could even distinguish single figures in that formation, and the rain of arrows that alit on them from the hill. Then someone in front of him shouted “charge!” and Bagrat sped up his horse, lowered his lance against the enemy he still couldn’t see but of whom he knew he must have been somewhere behind this mass of men, horses and all that dust.



To Apollonides’ men this massive charge came as a complete surprise. They had spotted the Khuveshâvagân standing on the hilltop but could not see beyond the first rows of them, and so did not expect the formation to be several thousand men large. Bagrat did not feel like being involved in a lethal fight upon impact with the enemy. At one moment he felt his horse hitting something without stopping the gallop, than he saw a man with a yellow plume appearing in a wink between all those horses disappearing immediately thereafter; and then the formation became slower and slower, down to walk and finally halting in huge disordered mass of horses. Bagrat turned around taking a look at the field of shattered men he had just ridden through. Some Greeks were crawling on the ground with broken bones, other tried to raise and run away, Armenian horsemen among them spiking them with their lances. There were also some horses and Khuveshâvagân lying on the ground. Charges like these were never without casualties even if they happened to be successfully: short after the choke the ground became littered with blades and spearheads slitting hooves and horses’ legs. Helmets, shields and of course bodies made horses stumble, and who falls to the ground in that stampede was inescapably doomed.



But Bagrat was alive. And he was proud to have stood his first fight as a noble lancer of the king of Armenia. In fact he was eager to do more fighting, it seemed so pretty easy. A group of Greek archers stood close to the spot were the melee had finally halted, desperately trying to keep up with the Skythians on the hill. “The archers, father! They are without protection, let’s go Khuveshâvagân!” But the horsemen were moving file by file into a dip close to Persian Road. “I am sure there is a great Baivarapatiš of the future riding in your saddle, young prince of Kartli, but for now could you please line up that the King can proceed with his battle”, someone shouted from the bulk of the horsemen; others were laughing. Only then did Bagrat realise that the pikemen were descending behind him form the hill with astonishing speed.



“Ready, Aram?” Samus was shouting over to his son who this time had the central column. Aram turned around and found the rear ranks proper deployed, “ready when you are, father” “Tip banner! Khuveshâvagân, advance!” The phalanx had not stopped in its advance despite the men showing their backs to the Skythian archers on the hill and leaving behind them a trail of dead, wounded and dying. When the horsemen closed in the phalanx halted and lowered its pikes. “Charge!” Samus, Aram, Mher and two or three more voices had shouted it at the same time and forward thundered the 4,000 horses. The choke was as fatally as it was to the Hypaspists. Several horses went down impaled by pikes, but the sheer mass of the charge proved to be too much for the wavering formation of the Greeks. Pikes were dropped, shields casted away and men were running, the Armenian horsemen above them. The Klerouchoi phalanx had been buried under hooves as had been the Hypaspists before. And then the arrow struck.



Pharnavaz was in command of 4,000 swordsmen on the extreme right of the Armenian formation. He saw the enemy emerging from the woods below the hill. Right in front of him was a couple of spearmen. Archers and slingers seem to be in the second line, but what worried Pharnavaz more was the formation of phalanx to the left. Judging from the direction of its advance he expected it to clash with the Nizag to his left protecting the Skythian archers. It was his task to fall on the flanks in the moment something like that happened. But there were also the some 2,000 spearmen ahead of him. Pharnavaz had to split his force to deal with both threats. Then he saw the royal horsemen on the left charging downhill. What happened he could not spot but from the sound of iron clashing on iron he was sure there was a fierce fighting with an enemy he could not see. Meanwhile the enemy phalanx had changed its direction and was now moving downhill until it came out if sight. The Skythians next to his swordsmen kept on shooting at the only target left on the hill, the 2,000 spearmen that were still coming in Pharnavaz direction.




“Ready, lads! Charge!” Pharnavaz waited until the first lines had past him running to make sure the charge was proper executed, then started running himself. Arrows were flying over them down the hill, but also some came the other direction, first hitting the Nizag but then raining down on his men. After some paces he saw that the enemy had some kind of padded armour and simple helmets, much like his men. They were also armed with javelins that some started throwing against the charging swordfighters, but to little effect. The clash was brief, in fact so brief that the enemy was already running when Pharnavaz arrived on the spot of fighting together with the fifth or sixth line of swordsmen. Skythian horsemen were emerging out of the woods and shooting arrows at close distance into the bulk of fleeing enemies. Pharnavaz’ battle was over. “Halt! Dashnit to me! Rally!” A trooper next to Pharnavaz spitted on the ground, “eh, Satapatiš, it’s always the same, isn’t it? Four hours waiting, three minutes running, two seconds fighting.”




“Your orders, King?” Aram was staring down on the body of his father unable to think or answer. “Aram”, this was Mher grapping Aram’s shoulders, “the army needs your orders.” Like being woken from a nightmare Aram asked, “What is it?” “The battle is over, the enemy running. Shall we pursuit?” “No, let them go.” When four men laid Samus body on a stretcher Aram said, “and had that been beyond the horizon?” “Pardon”, asked Mher. “Nothing, break camps, we are going home.”



When the army marched down the road an Armenian spearman found a fine Greek helmet with yellow plume. It was smeared with blood. He cleaned and took it with him.

[LotW89]

Great Story^^

But do you wanted the faction leader to die in a battle? Did you planned it?

[konny]

No. I first had the intention of making a short essay on the usage of cavlary v. phalanx and other hellenic heavy infantry. That's the reason why I did not had any screenshots for the introduction or the situation before the battle. I had made a pic of Samus by chance short before the battle (I always do so with my faction leaders, just in case I want to write an AAR). The king seemed to have been killed by a Skythian arrow, because the phalanx just started routing.

Next chapter "The Eagles' Nest" in short - but I have to speed up a little because I am allready a decade ahead of the stroy in my campaign.

[d'Arthez]

Looks good. How far are you reformwise?

[konny]

Chapter 5: The Miasma of Victory

232 BC – 230 BC


After the conquest of Arbela and Ekbatana both Armenian armies moved south into the very heart of the Seleucide Empire: Seleukeia. Mher had to round up the last Seleucide forces in upper Media while Aram met no resistance on his march down the Tigris. So it was his army alone that camped on the northern banks of the Tigris in sight of the Seleucide capital. Aram’s army was some 20,000 men strong while his opponent, Diogenes Syriakos, did not have more than 15,000 men including all garrisons from both Seleukeia and Babylon. Despite these odds Diogenes decided to attack the Armenian camp on the Tigris.



Diogenes advanced guard was composed of 3,000 elite troopers, veteran phalangites and royal guards. Seeing that the bridge was guarded by light cavalry only the commander of that force, Apollodoros, decided to cross the stream and establish a bridgehead on the other side.



A fatal mistake. Even though the Skythians immediately gave way once the Greek pikemen appeared on the bridge the bulk of the Armenians had found the time do deploy in battle order, showering the Greek pikemen and guards with arrows while these tried to form up after crossing the bridge. Then Aram unleashed the cavalry.



Again it was pike against lance. Horses and riders unused to the heat of lower Mesopotamia the Armenians tired themselves out very quickly, and even though the horsemen were superior in numbers the phalanx held out offering a stiff fight.



Meanwhile single units of Armenian infantry had crossed the Tigris without being ordered to or even noticed by Aram and his officers chasing the Seleucide guards who had not been able to stand the volley of arrows and tried to run for safety. This isolated Armenian infantry run into the arms of Diogenes, who had just appeared on the scene ahead of 1,000 Makedonian horse and 5,000 local infantry.



The Armenian spearmen had no difficulties in blocking Diogenes’ cavalry, but more and more enemy spearmen joined the fighting shifting the weight towards the Seleucide side. The Skythian horse-archers crossed the bridge on their own initiatives shooting into the melee. Around this time the Armenian nobles had finally defeated the phalanx and Aram became aware of the chaos on the other side of the Tigris. He had his armoured horsemen crossed the bridge too and ordered the foot archers to follow.



Because there was no time to form up for a proper charge the Aram’s men rode through their own spearmen as soon as they had crossed the bridge finding themselves in the midst of a fight spear against spear. But the appearance of the strange “iron horses” amongst them caused the Seleucide militia to panic and desert Diogenes. He was killed trying to rally his men. The last 2,000 survivors, most of them from the guards, run for safety into Seleukeia. Aram ordered the assault on the town to be executed without delay.



“What is your name, Greek?” Aram was looking down on the commander of the last defenders of Seleukeia. Like his men, the Seleucide commander had chain mail and was carrying a huge round shield with a face painted on it. That face was poking its tongue. ‘Most ridiculous’, thought Aram. “I am Epikrates, and take it that you are Aram the Armenian, Barbarian”, he replied. “Yes, that’s me. As far as I can see you have less than 1,000 men left. I have about twenty times your number. To save both of us another bloodbath you might as well surrender your arms.” “To become what? A slave in your silver mines? Never. I’d rather prefer to die.” Aram smiled, “I knew that this would be your answer. So die well, Epikrates.” Aram turned his horse. Before he reached the lines of his men he halted again. “Epikrates, I have some 6,500 archers here. At least you can fight in the shades.” Aram turned in his saddle to see the astonished look on Epikrates face he had expected. “It is not hard to become part of a poem these days, Greek”, Aram said spurring his horse. When he passed the archers he ordered them to open fire.



Epikrates men cowered in the centre of the plaza their shields locked. Arrows crackled on shields, helmets and chain but only to little effect. After an hour or two the Seleucide guards became bored, drew swords and charged into the mass of Armenian infantry.



They were much superior to the Caucasians both armed and fighters and able to kill much more than their number. Several times Aram was asked by his officers to send for the heavy cavalry. But he refused to do so, watching the killing and dying from horseback.



In the end the Armenian swords- and spearmen won by sheer numbers. “Did you learn that lesson?” Aram asked the young Haduni pointing to the dead and dying around the plaza. “No? A brave man, chain mail, a sword, that’s what makes real foot soldiers. As long as we don’t use men like those we have killed today we won’t get nowhere.” Then Aram rode in the middle of his exhausted soldiers, “Armenians! You have fought well today. Your Arqa is pleased with you. And now it is time to punish the Greeks for the offences they have committed to Armenia in the past!”



After Seleukeia had been mercilessly sacked Babylonia fell short thereafter. Meanwhile Mher had cleaned Media of Seleucide troops and joined Aram’s forces on the Tigris. Bagrat Haduni greeted him on Tigris Bridge. “Hail Sparapet!” “I salute you, Prince of Kartli. How is your father doing?” Bagrat rode to Mher’s side, “Good last time I saw him; but that is four years ago.” “I see. We all have to make sacrifices to the war. I haven’t seen my youngest, Hayk, since he was twelve. He will be turning twenty this year. Now, how is the Arqa doing?” Bagrat did not answer at once; and while they were approaching Seleukeia Mher noticed several, hundreds, of bonfires along the road leading to the gate. He also noticed a strong decay scent.



“What is that?” he asked. “Those are, or had been, one third of the people of Seleukeia”, Bagrat answered, “The Arqa had them executed. Another third was sold into slavery. Only one third was allowed to stay, stripped of everything they owned.” “What? There had been 220,000 families living in Seleukeia!” Mher halted his horse. “Yes, I know, Sparapet. I was there.” Bagrat said moving on. “The Arqa is in Babylon. You better keep on moving because he doesn’t like to be waiting these days.” When Mher had closed up again Bagrat explained, “The Arqa has changed. You know what the people say about Babylon? They say it is cursed. Everyone who enters it as conqueror will be doomed. They say it was Darios doing and Alexander the Macedon became the first to be jinxed by it. You better see yourself, Sparapet.”

Coming to Babylon Mher found that Haduni had been right: Aram was different. Mher found him sitting at a desk covered with scrolls and tablets surrounded by two scribes. When Mher wanted to greet his king Aram raised his hand to silence him and pointed to a chair. There Mher sat watching the Arqa working. In astonishing speed Aram picked document by document read it and passed it over to one of the scribes who took it to smaller desk where pens, ink and the Royal Seal laid. There his companion sat and sealed the documents. Sometimes Aram was giving a short comment like, “approved” or “not more than twenty” or “under no circumstances”. In this case the second scribe wrote a short note on the document.

After some time a servant entered with some wine, water and fruits. Mher was thankful for the refreshment but Aram touched nothing. The two scribes helped themselves ignoring that their king refused to eat or drink. An hour might have passed when Aram finally dismissed the two scribes. The desk was nearly emptied from documents. Aram looked up surprised as if he had not noticed that Mher had been there all the time. Then he looked down on one of the documents that had been left over on his desk. After a few minutes he said, “I have been thinking a lot about the Gods these days, Mher Yervanduni.” “The Gods, Arqa?” “Don’t you believe in the Gods, Sparapet?” Mher had no idea what this was leading to, “I certainly do.”



“Good. That’s good.” Aram abruptly went up, moved to the table where the refreshments were and filled a goblet with water. “You see, my friend, that no being is without purpose. Every one of us is here for a reason, be it a peasant or a king.” Aram drank the water in one sip, dropping a good deal of it on his clothes. He filled another goblet and held it staring on the wall. “We all have a – MISSION!” He shouted the last word and banged the goblet on the table making the bowl with fruits to crush on the flour. Aram turned around looking confused, “I am sorry, where was I? Ah yes, the mission.” Aram begun to walk up and down the room. “Until recently I didn’t know what my mission was. But then my namesake, Ara the God of War, revealed himself to me.” Aram stopped by the window looking out. “The Gods had been offended. Their plan, so he said, had been disturbed. It is the Greeks. They are not to be in these lands. This is not the land of their gods. And it would be up to me, so the Gods have decided, to redress this.”

“Are you talking about Seleukeia, Arqa? I fear it won’t work this way.” Mher said. “Seleukeia, dear Mher, was just the beginning.” Aram turned around. “You and I we are to exterminate the Greeks from the face of Asia, send them back to the lands of their gods. What do you say?” “Aram, I am becoming 58 this winter. I fear I am no longer the young man I had been. I think it would be best when the Sword of Armenia would be passed to the next generation. As you might know, my eldest Arbak has no talent to be your Sparapet. I would therefore ask you to allow me to pass my office to my second son, Hayk. I would be grateful to serve you as an administrator for the rest of my days.” “Grateful?” Aram shouted, “If you don’t believe in what we are doing, you better not be a part of it.” Aram rushed through the room to the smaller desk with the seal. He picked a tablet and started writing. “You can stay here and rot in this godless place.” Aram sealed the document and passed it Mher. “Here you are. You will be governor - no, king! - of the scorpions, snakes and Greeks of Mesopotamia. And yes, your Hayk will become Sparapet. And yes, he’ll do as I say and help me to fulfill my mission. Now out you go.”

Outside Mher leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. “Ye Gods, what shall I do? Armenia is in a fight for life and death with the greatest empire on Earth. We have achieved what none had thought possible, and now our King has gone mad. Our armies are let by a maniac. Darios, I curse you!”





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