[Hayasdan AAR] King of the Valleys

[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!”





Thanks to ImageShack for Free Image Hosting