Chapter Two: Throwing Rocks
My father disappeared when I was eleven years old, leaving me with my mother and three younger sisters to fend for ourselves. I was forced to leave school and find work as an extra farm hand for a wealthy Rhodian though I didn’t understand how he became so rich. He was a lazy drunkard. He spent most of his time beating his workers for minor offenses or lying on the floor passed out next to a pool of his own vomit. Most of the other workers were Easterners, or barbarians as my father taught me, but I found I liked them more than the wealthy Greek who lorded over us.
I found my escape a year later when the capital of the Hayasdan was besieged by the Seleucids. Since I was too young to fight with a spear and too weak to draw a bow, I was given a sling and a pouch of stones to pepper the enemy before the true soldiers entered battle.
I had used a sling to kill rabbits for stew since I was a little boy, so I guess they figured I could kill a man, or at least give him a major headache, as well.
We marched for many days towards the capital, but found we had arrived too late and the siege was already relieved. However, we were not sent home, but instead put on permanent garrison duty as there were reports of more Seleucids coming to attack.
The capital city of Armavir was not very impressive compared to my home. It was even smaller, had less goods in its marketplaces, and lacked the sanitation system of Trapezous. It was no wonder that King Samus decided to reside there instead of the capital. As I walked the streets, I noticed that the city was nearly empty of people. I was later told that most of the men have been conscripted to fight as the enemy armies draw nearer.
The battles were many, but I do not remember much. Each time they laid siege to us, we would rush out and pepper the enemy with stones. The spearmen would clash with the enemy and suffer tremendous casualties before the royal horsemen smashed the enemy. Each and every battle was completely dependent on the thunderous charge of the King’s kinsmen.
Each time I remembered fearing that all would be lost as I watched our levies die in droves as the professional Seleucid armies cut them down until suddenly, bursting out from a cloud of dust, the glittering golden armor would appear and save the day.
I fought through almost ten battles against the Seleucids, each time I just slung my stones until none were left before retreating back into the city. The real soldiers would handle the rest.
Then there was one day, we were badly outmatched that time, even worse than usual.
The sally began as usual, with us slinging rocks as the spearmen charged forward to die.
But this time, they died quicker than usual. Ten fell in an instant as the veteran mercenaries and phalanxes cut then down. Then twenty died. Forty. Eighty. Soon, more were dead than alive. The general needed the enemy pinned for his charge to be effective, so the signal went up for the first time. We slingers and archers pulled out our rusty knives and marched forward.
There was an old man who I befriended that marched alongside me. His name was Arzad, but we all just called him the Old Persian. Some claimed he was so old that he once fought against Alexander’s armies. Yet, he could sling a stone harder and more accurately than any of the young men in our unit. His sling had probably killed more enemies than even the kinsmen’s lances. There was so much skill and experience in those hands. And he was the first to fall.
The Seleucid phalanx was murderous. We were cut down even quicker than the Kavakaza Sparabara. The charge was delayed as the general was engaged with the enemy’s cavalry. We were on our own.
In the end, we were victorious. Of the one hundred and twenty men who began the battle, only twenty survived. Our unit was disbanded and we were sent home. The small bag of coins tied around my neck made a small clinking sound with each step the whole way back.
Re: In Search of Truth: A Hayasdan AAR
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