The Sons of Antiochus (Rehashed)

[RabidGibbon]

The Sons of Antiochus.


Part 1 - Winter 280 BC.

The Gods play games with mortals, this I know as truth.

No man who has seen what I have seen, heard what I have heard and stood where I have stood could ever doubt this. I have seen bravery punished with shameful and ignominious defeat, and treachery rewarded with kingship. I have stood on the banks of the Indus, and the shores of the Mare Interum and always vice triumphs and virtue is trodden into the mud by the baseness of the masses.

Ahhh, but I see you stand there and look knowing young warrior, you imagine I am just another tired old cynic, who tries to hide the fact he knows nothing by belittling everything, who having achieved nothing in his lifetime imagines that nothing can be achieved.

Well then let me tell you my story you would be Achilles, and why, if there is anything in that helmet when I am done you will throw down that spear and build yourself a hovel, far from the great roads the armies of great kings march down and till the humble soil until the time comes when you pay the ferryman and cross the styx.

It begins in winter, in the city of Antioch, though you would not know it was winter for the sun was shining brightly in a blue sky. Aye, the sun always shone in Antioch…..

The trumpets blared out again, and again from above the great north gate of Antioch a fanfare replied, almost as if the army at the gates and the garrison within were engaged in some strange form of combat, and indeed on cue the army returned the salute, seeming even louder than before.

This was a feat which only a few moments before any onlooker would have sworn was impossible, especially the captain of the gate, who leaned back over the parapet, swore violently in his gruff Macedonian accent and cuffed a gawping boy round the ear,

“Quit lazing bout lad and git to east gate, find out were the ‘ell those friggin ‘eralds ave got to alrite? Rite lads” he continued, turning to a red faced, gasping clutch of trumpeters “Lets give em ‘ail to the conquering hero, an put some bleedin wind into it this time. Goddam show off bunch o whoremongers.”

Wearily the heralds picked up their weapons, gathered their breath and wits, and prepared to duel once more for the honour of the city of Antioch, whilst all the while beneath them the great iron bound gate ground inexorably open beneath them.

The sound of the trumpets spread chaos ahead of them, as onlookers rushed to the walls, Merchants and Fathers sought to hide what was valuable to them from victory drunk soldiers and in the Governors Villa Demetrius, 3rd son of Antiochus, the King, raced around trying to ensure his house was in a state fit to receive his father, yet knowing in his heart of hearts that he had already failed.

“Pytheas!” he cried, racing from room to room “Pytheas!”. Finally Demetrius found his quarry, half running half collapsing into a small room made to seem even smaller by the scroll cases that were stacked up every wall,

“There you are….. What are you doing here?”

Demetrius’ mentor looked up quizzically “What am I doing in my study? Why Studying of course. Hem, I often think all my time teaching you was completely wasted, you cannot draw even the most simple conclusions.”

Demetrius stared for a moment as Pytheas returned his attention to the scroll he had been studying moments before shaking his head “Never mind that. Where’s Athena, where are the Children?”

“Ah yes” chuckled Pytheas, “Grandfather will want to see all his grandchildren and beloved daughter all lined up looking happy, healthy and….” he paused for a moment whilst Demetrius grew even more anxious “Clean.”

“Clean, why clean Pytheas? Why Clean?”

“Well my dear fellow, when I last I saw them they were in the kitchen, which is only a short hop from the gardens, where, due to the new sewers being installed I understand there are several wonderfully muddy pools. Wonderfully muddy.”

The old man chortled as Demetrius ran from the room, crying for servants, hot water and his wife, then stood up and went outside into the courtyard where he picked up a servant Demetrius had bowled over and instructed him quietly and sternly to go to the kitchens and prepare hot water, fetch both the young childrens nannies to the kitchen, and inform his master, whom he would find in the gardens with his children, that the Lady Athena was in her quarters preparing for her father in laws visit.

*********************************************************

Next instalment to include, meet Aristarchus, the Faction Heir, Antiochus, The Faction Leader and an unexpected battle.

Boring technical stuff last, I strongly advise you skip this paragraph unless you really want to know about the game this story’s based on. Still here? Well don’t say I didn’t warn you.

This story is intended to be a history of a Seleucid provincial campaign played using the Rome: Total Realism mod (v5.4.1 I think). The setting are campaign emperor, and battles praetor, which equates to VH/M.

The battles themselves are played with the General cam switched on, which kind of makes up for the naff AI as half the time you cant see or control your units and so just stick them on AI control.

The emphasis of the storyline will follow several characters on their adventures through what I imagine giving my playing skills will be the decline and fall of the Seleucid Empire.

I will try and keep characters actions in the story true to their traits, and when not with other major characters their co-conspirators will normally be members of their retinue suitably fleshed out.

Finally please forgive any gross historical blunders. Any Feedback, Criticism or Plain Old Abuse will of course be gratefully received.

[RabidGibbon]

Selukia, Capital of The Seleucid Empire, Winter 280BC

“…also I don’t think you mention my pose enough. I spent hours working on that pose. Now I don’t expect you to write whole paragraphs about it, but insert a few scattered lines here and there, understand? Agreed?”

“Yes A-a-a-aristarchus” stuttered Aeneas, hurriedly gathering up the papers that were laid out on the low table.

“But before you do that send for wine, from anywhere will do, but definitely something grown on a south facing slope I think.” Aeneas shook his head in a frantic motion that could have meant anything, but which Aristarchus took to be an affirmative, and laid back on the low couch he had been seated on.
The problem with his genius, he reflected, was that he so often expected more of people than they were actually capable.

For example, when he had been told this Aeneas fellow was the finest biographer in all the empire he had expected someone who could produce works that would astound even him.

But alas, like every other art in this world that he turned his gaze upon he found that its current and previous exponents had barely raised it above mediocrity.

If only he was not burdened with these trials of governorship he was sure he would even now be excelling himself in every field which he turned his attention to.

But this line of thought soon drove his melancholy thoughts away, for after all was not his Father, Antiochus, King of Seleucia an old man? And on top of his age there was his passion for seeking danger in battle.

Aristarchus smiled warmly to himself as he thought of himself as King - and who was remembered more, revered more than great Kings who performed great deeds? And who could doubt that he would be the greatest King ever known.

He could almost feel the adulation and awe of all the ages yet to come, pressing down upon him, but the feeling was not unpleasant, indeed he rather welcomed it.

Antioch, Winter 280BC

Antiochus strode into the courtyard with the all the easy assurance of one who not only owned the Villa, but the city around it, and indeed anything you could see from the top of the tallest tower in the city, and much more besides. His stern face broke into a smile at the sight of his grandchildren and the conqueror of a hundred foes went down onto his knees before them, enquired if they were being good, remarked favourably on their growth, and messed up their recently combed hair.

Standing he greeted Athena cordially, as a father-in-law should a dutiful daughter-in-law, and finally frowned upon his 3rd born,

“Demetrius, when I left the streets were paved, I return and they are mud. I worry that this, as well as being true, may be an apt metaphor for the rest of your governorship.”

“Sewers, Father, I’m installing sewers across the city, we, erm, had to pull the paving stones up.”

Antiochus sighed, and rested his head in his hands “My son” he murmured, his voice raising as he spoke, “When you look to the south what do you see, hmmm?”

“Hmm, Geography eh? The Judean Highlands?”

“That is because you are incapable of seeing what lies beyond your sight. I see the Ptolemaic empire, biding its time, increasing its strength, waiting till it sees the moment is right before it strikes! And you are building sewers?”

Demetrius, backed into a corner tried to placate his father, “I’ve raised a new regiment of pikemen, to strengthen the garrison.”

The frown on Antiochus’ face never altered as he continued “Good, for I shall require 2 regiments of Pikemen to replace those I left to garrison Tarsus, also all the prodromi you can spare, there will be great need of horsemen in the central provinces. I shall take Attalus with me, he will be useful in dealing with the Parthians”

“Ah yes, Attalus, he’d be that bald fellow wouldn’t he?” asked Demetrius, knowing perfectly well who the Ambassador was. Antiochus was too skilled a reader of men to doubt for a moment that his son was simply stalling for time.

“Where is Attalus? No wait” he interrupted Demetrius’ answer “You have sent to the Ptolemaic Empire haven’t you?” As Antiochus’ face softened Demetrius was struck almost forcibly by how much his father resembled an old man,

“Demetrius, Demetrius, just because you speak the truth and keep your word it does not mean the rest of the world does. Attalus is wasting his time, the Eygptians will just tell us what we want to hear, and then do what they wish to do. That is their way and if we are not ready for their attack we will lose everything. Whilst I am defending Selukia, you must hold the western empire - Tarsus, Hatra and Antioch. Ahh by the gods, enough of this talk, let us go eat.”

For less than a week did Antiochus dawdle in Antioch, for always was his eye drawn to the east, where he imagined his enemies massing against him, and his sons wasting valuable time in idle pursuits, and so as winter began to turn to summer Antiochus left the city that bore his name and with great strength of arms gathered about him marched east, to his capital and new, as yet unfought battles.

Assyria,on the road between Hatra and Selukia, 279BC.

Antiochus turned to the exhausted scout and questioned him again “You are sure of these numbers, and equipped as you described?”

“Yes, My lord” the scout replied “6000 all ahorse, and near a third armoured from head to foot - the horses likewise garbed - and those unamoured were carrying bows with the Parthian royal standard in the van.”

Antiochus looked to the heavens and muttered a short prayer, before wheeling his horse about and galloping back down the column of troops behind him. “Lysander, Hergrippas, your brigades prepare for battle, face back the way we came and form a dogs-leg line, Floggings all round for those who delay.”

Antiochus’ horse continued down the line, past the pikemen whose column was disintegrating as they raced into their new formations to where the light javelin armed peltasts had come to a halt as the regiments in front of them stopped to respond to orders.

“Agesilaus,” he cried as he saw the officer he was looking for, “your men in front of the pike block, give no ground until I give the signal.”

“Aye my Lord” replied Agesilaus as he began pushing and barking orders to his still confused troops “Give no ground it shall be.”

Antiochus saluted the commander of the peltasts and spurred his horse on again until he came upon Polymidas, commander of his own companions. Antiochus did not bother giving orders here, for Polymidas had fought alongside him in a dozen battles, and saved his life too in many of them.

“Who we fighting then?” grunted the big man as together they led the Companions back towards the rear of the rapidly forming pike block.

“The Parthians, damn them for treacherous dogs. I thought they were supposed to be our allies”

Polymidas laughed, a rare enough occurrence to draw a glance from Antiochus “Tell them that not me” he said, and nodded his head towards where the first few Parthian horsemen were appearing on a distant crest.

[RabidGibbon]

Decided to try and write this post as if it were some sort of historical work.
Dont worry if you hate it I'll return to the normal style soon enough.

The Battle of Assyria.

Now it happens that the first battle of Assyria is memorable for only a few things, one of which is that though the parthian commander, Arsaces, was outnumbered by 3 to 1 he still attacked in a most determined and reckless fashion.

It has been the fashion recently to condemn this as reckless folly, however, given the poor quality of the Seleucid army in this period it is likely that the majority of Antiochus’ forces were composed of poorly motivated and under trained forces, who would be unlikely to stand a full on charge of Parthian cataphracts, who were at the time the decisive factor in many eastern battles.

We read in Aeneas work “The Lives of Aristarchus and Cleitos” that Antiochus formation was cautious to the point of cowardliness, given his advantage in numbers.

Although much of this work has been shown through careful research to be heavily biased against anyone who was not Aristarchus or Cleitos (Where it is not entirely fabricated of course!) we do have other references to Antiochus being a very defensive general, such as the battle of Selukia where a unnamed parthian scholar quote Pharotes as crying out “This Man fight like a stone! Is there nothing which will make him offer battle?”

Aeneas also claims that Antiochus “blundered unknowing into battle, like a blind beast of burden.”

However as Aeneas also claims that Antiochus was drawn up in a defensive formation at the start of battle it is hard to reconcile these two statements. It is possible of course that the two forces were not aware of the presence of the other until shortly before the battle began.

What we do know for certain is that the parthians opened the battle with a charge by heavy cavalry, led by Arsaces himself on the Seleucid centre whilst light cavalry (possibly armed with bows) haried the flanks.

Antiochus chose to ignore this threat to his flanks, and instead used his Javelin armed cavalry behind a line of pikemen. It appears that from the position of height offered by Horses these prodromi were able to fling their javelins over the heads of their own pikemen to great effect.

The Parthian centre retreated with heavy losses, although the flanking forces did great damage before withdrawing, apparently without suffering any great losses.

[Monk]

I had forgotten that Assistant moderators cannot delete things anyway, so i guess you making a new thread is ok. Just make sure this is the last one on this story, no need to have three threads going at the same time

I've closed the other thread off as to not confuse people. and i hope you get promoted to Member status soon so you can edit your posts

[The Wizard]

Good story, except for that last part. It's advisable to remain writing in the style you began with -- it keeps the story moving and doesn't lead to confused readers wondering what they're reading now and who it's about.

Besides, your writing is best suited to character-driven stories, comparing the first to parts to the last one.

But besides that, a good story. Please continue!



~Wiz

[RabidGibbon]

Selukia, Summer 279BC

Aristarchus leaned forward, the better to catch the peformers words. He found the best thing about others performing his works was that one could be as lavish as he wished in his public praise, rather than effecting to any sort of false modesty.

Suddenly however his reverie was broken by a burst of brainless chattering over towards the Odeon’s entrance. Aristarchus turned towards the disturbance, confident an imperious gaze would persuade the vile mob to calm itself, but as he turned towards the noise he saw a site that horrified him.

People were leaving! For a moment he stared on, dumbstruck, unable to understand. They would miss the best bit! They had to come back! Could not these imbeciles understand that this was some of the finest poetry performed in the Homeric style that they would ever have the chance to appreciate?

Aristarchus leaned back, and caught the eye of his nearest companion, “Thucydides, take some men and stop those people leaving, and bring back those who have left - for I deem it a great and undeserved insult to a fine poet.”

The Companion hesitated, looked at the departing crowd, now noisier than ever, looked at his master and decided he was in earnest and so ran towards the entrance, gesturing towards the two soldiers who already stood there.

Aristarchus tried turning his attention back to the poet, but it was only a few moments before Thucydides had returned, looking unusually concerned.

“My lord, we are besieged. The Parthians are before the southern gates, and a second army has been sighted to the west.”

Aristarchus let out a heart felt sigh, rising only slowly, “Then my course is clear - I shall give a most rousing speech to all here. Thucydides, be so good as to run to the palace and fetch Aeneas - and tell him to bring parchment and quill, for I believe this will be worth recording.”

For a moment the cavalryman looked confused, uncertain at what he had just heard “But my lord,” he ventured, “what orders to the garrison, should we not prepare our defences?”

“Tush Tush dear fellow, there will be time to sort out the details later - first I must inform the citizens how well prepared and unafraid they are. Then we shall see what needs to be done on the walls.”

Aristarchus knew of course even as he spoke these words that his son Cleitos would even now be running to and fro, shouting and bawling in his soldierly fashion, and everyone would soon be standing where they should, holding the right type of pointy stick and generally looking formidable to those beastly parthians outside.


“My Lord Cleitos!” Cleitos had heard the running feet, sandals slapping on the stone of Selukias walls before he heard the cry, but still ignored the shout, staring out intently at the mass of parthians camped well outside arrow range, not that it mattered for there were few archers inside the walls.

“My Lord Cleitos!” by now the fellow was too close to ignore any longer and so he spun on his heel and glared at the young messenger.

“This better be worth my time boy” he growled. After 4 hours of siege Cleitos was already bored, tired of waiting, tired of having to tell people what they should do automatically. His father had neglected the discipline of the garrison, that was for sure, and now he, Cleitos was paying the price with wasted time and having to deal with drooling simpletons who should be snapping to orders.

“A horseman just came in the south gate sir, gave his name as Philip and claims Antiochus sent him, that Antiochus is only a few hours march away, and not to offer battle until he is available to support, sir”

Many superstitious and foolish tribes of the north have legends of dead kings who will rise and aid them in their hour of need, but for the people of Selukia it was a living king who came hurtling to their aid, like a thunderbolt thrown by Zeus Almighty, Antiochus descended upon the parthians, who like the dogs and curs they were took shelter behind a hastily fortified camp until the Lord of the Parthians, Pharotes, a great general and mighty warrior who had sworn many mighty oaths to humble the Seleucid Empire, and win back the East from the cursed Hellenes, came amongst them and put shame into their hearts for cowering and hiding whilst the enemy stood upon the field.

So Pharotes gathered the finest warriors of Parthia about him, and raising a great battle cry rode out to do battle against the combined armies of both Antiochus and Aristarchus, who marshalled their men to their banners and joined battle with a glad heart, for their numbers were far greater than those of the Parthians, and here was the head of the snake, and all knew that if the head of the beast were chopped off with a sound stroke here today, this Parthian menace would surely fade away like the setting of the sun.

[RabidGibbon]

The Battle of Selukia, Summer 278 BC

Jason was already cursing his ill luck in being placed in the front rank even before the first parthians came into view.

Already, only a few ranks away he could hear Galaxidorus, singing, roaring drunk, and the sun barely risen. He must have been up all night drinking, rather than up all night trying to sleep but instead mulling over stories the veterans had told him of Assyria.

Next to him the sergeant was still bawling out Cylon for the hideous crime of switching the shoulder he was resting his pike on. Callias on the other side was muttering what sounded like prayers.

This was going to be a lousy day.

Somewhere far off to the right he could hear someone shouting at the top of his voice, when he leant forward to see past the rest of his pike block he could see it was a man on a horse.

Shame he couldn’t hear a word he was saying. Still Antiochus had won battles before, perhaps he’d win this one. There was an encouraging thought.

A tap on his shoulder, turning showed him the grinning face of Ismenias offering him a bladder skin of….. Ummm wine, nice wine too. The Gods knew where Ismenias had got that from, but it was good to know his friend was right behind him.

Suddenly from the tree line ahead, like birds bursting out of long grass when startled by a dog, came the peltasts. Their Javelins were gone and so was any attempt at a formation as the light troops came racing towards the line of pikemen, each absorbed in his own little race against death.

And then, from behind them came that death, emerging in long shining lines came the cataphracts of parthia, their polished armour catching the sun and appearing to Jason and the other pikemen to be some vision come down from Mount Olympus to inform them that now was their time to die.

“Open Order” cried Agis the file leader, and instinctively the pike block shuffled its ranks as the peltasts poured through.

“Your turn now boys, give em Hades.” called a peltast as he ran past Jason, who was feeling too witless to reply with anything more than a vacant grin and a nod of his head.

“Close Order” again the Pike block responded as if on the training fields of Antioch.

“Zeus Almighty, were gonna cop it now lads” despite the words the speaker spoke with a laugh in his throat, and as the Sergeant called for silence Jason studied the Partians to see what he meant.

Quickly he realised and wished he hadn’t. The entire Parthian line was shifting to their left, moving to outflank the Seleucid pike line and with despair Jason remembered that his pike regiment was anchoring the right hand side of the Seleucid position.

“Lower Pikes - look to your front, look to your front” cried Agis, the anxiety in his voice obvious.

Callias cursed violently as a pike shaft from the rear ranks was lowered too far and struck him squarely on the head.

Already the ground beneath him was trembling under the parthians approach, as was Jason. As the parthians closed with the seleucid line, he could see the horses tossing their heads back, seeming eager for the charge that must come, willing their riders to give them their reins.

But still the parthian lances were held almost contemptuously towards the sky, as if those opposite them were not worthy of preparing for, and still the Parthian line shifted to the Seleucid right and the open flank.

Then at the blast of a horn, whose meaning the Seleucid pikemen understood as well as those Parthians who were waiting for it, the lances of the enemy dropped and they raced forwards.

The ground beneath Jason seemed to drop away, then raise again to meet him as the weight of the armoured horses racing towards him shook the earth, throwing Jason to his knees as he saw the Cataphract who had singled him out - who was riding at him - whose lance had become a gleaming single point.

Jason drove the spiked haft of his pike into the ground, closed his eyes tightly and screamed.

A force struck Jason that felt somewhat like standing against the wind, only a thousand times stronger, throwing him to the floor. As Jason opened his eyes he saw the blue of the sky and knew that he had been killed. All around him was silence save for a strange ringing sound. How curious.

Then a pair of hands caught him beneath his armpits and began to lift him up, and Jason saw the battle around him. Everywhere Cataphracts had driven in the line, and glancing left and right he saw Galaxidorus astride a parthian horse, using the business end of a snapped pike to launch a flurry of short thrusts at another horseman, who was parrying frantically with a mace. Agis lay dead or dying with a broken lance point high in his stomach.

To his front lay a fallen Parthian horse, the splintered point of Jasons pike in its chest as its rider, trapped beneath his horse by his leg was trying desperately to pull himself out from beneath it.

“Kill him, Kill him” shrieked Cylon, leaping forwards at the distressed Parthian and thrusting downwards with his short sword. As Jason followed, he saw the sword deflected by the Parthians scale mail curiass, leaving only a thin white score down its front.

The Parthians right hand shot up and in it was a mace, and with a mighty blow he crushed Cylons jaw, leaving him to stagger back shaking his head, causing his horrendously mangled jaw to swing to and fro limply whilst he moaned in confusion.

Callias brought his foot down firmly on the parthians mace as he tried again to pull himself from beneath his horse, “Get the bastards helmet off, cut his throat!” hollered Ismenias, racing past and leaning down to grasp the enemys helmet. The parthians left hand struck Ismenias’ face as he bowed to grasp the helm, and at the same instant a pikeman on Jasons left crashed into him, throwing him again to the floor.

As he picked himself up again he threw a glance to the left and saw all order in the ranks collapse, parthians on 3 sides and everywhere seleucid pikemen throwing down their pikes and turning to flee.

“Run for it,” he screamed at his two comrades and throwing down the remains of his pike he turned to flee, using all the strength desperation gave him in a headlong flight for the gap that was left in the Parthian encirclement.

Seconds after he fled through the gap he cried out in despair and fell to his knees, for galloping straight towards him were yet more horsemen, but his despair was almost instantly replaced by delight as he recognised at the fore of the riders Cleitos son of Aristarchus, roaring with bloodlust and throwing himself and his outnumbered band into the fray - whilst behind him came two larger bands of companion cavalry and more, lighter prodromi hurling javelins into the fray and racing away before the heavier cataphracts charge.

Jason was still laughing with elation at being alive when Ismenias collapsed next to him, his face sweat streaked, and groaning with fatigue.

“Whats so funny?” he asked him.

“Nothing” said Jason, and handed him back the still half full bladder of wine. “but I think we might have won.”