Crete Balls of Fire - An Ierapetran AAR

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Teaser
310BCE
Crete​

Helios the Sun-God resplendent in his flaming chariot rode high in the sky, a blinding ball of furious fire. Pulled by his fire-darting steeds Aeos, Aethon, Phlegon and Pyrios his journey across the heavens was all but halfway complete.

Below him and basking in his life giving gift lay the hospitable, handsome and fertile island of Crete ensconced astride the lapis lazuli waters of the Mares Creticum and Aegyptum.

In the south east of this Megá nisi lay the ancient and noble City State of Ierapetra, crowned to the north by the Dikti mountains and whose southern shores were warmed by the lapping sea.

It is towards this that the light falls, hurled by the bronze corded arms of great Helios.

Down past the graceful glide of an Eleonora’s Falcon.

Down through a cawing mass of wheeling gulls.

Down towards a courtyard of dazzling white marble.

Down to a boy sat studying a map.

A boy who would be Basileus.

 

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Prologue:
‘The Mother or the Snake’
310BCE

The City State of Ierapetra

Prince Alkimos

'Tropheus' Damokrates Halladid​

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“One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine” exhale.
“One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine” exhale.
“One, two, three, fou…”

“Ah, Prince Alkimos, finally I find you” trilled an approaching voice, echoing lightly around the marble peristyle. “It is most unusual for you not to arrive promptly for your lessons. You are well I hope?”

The child, facing away from the speaker, sat in a klismos carved from oak the curved backrest and flared legs of which had been waxed to a deep glossy amber. His slender shoulders were tight with hands pressed palm-side down on a table, focused intently on an unfurled wrap of papyrus. When he spoke he did so without turning nor otherwise acknowledging the adult’s presence.

“The house is too loud. Father received guests in the andron this morning and it has descended into a festival of Dionysus.” There was a brief pause as the Prince inhaled deeply “Damokrates, may I finish my count?”
“Certainly my Prince” replied Damokrates softly, taking a step backwards and dropping briefly into a courteous bow.

In a quiet voice the Prince then proceeded to count upwards from one to nine doing so a total of nine times. Upon finishing this rote the previous tension visible across his form seemed instantly to drain from his body.
His head rolled to the left, just enough that the tutor was visible but indirect enough that eye contact could be avoided.

“My father thinks me foolish, odd, in my ways. When you taught me of Hippocrates and the humors I felt a relief for I understood I was Earth and Water, it gave a reasoning for, me.” There was a tremble to his voice, “When I told father he said he expected Earth and Water in his chamber pot but not in his heir.” The Prince turned back to his map, “I must be fire and air if I am to rule. I must be other than I am.”

Prince Alkimos shifted in his chair and for a brief second his eyes met those of the older man before they darted away like startled birds. “Come, see my project,” He said in a voice spiced with childish excitement, “You must help me chart my lands.”

“A map of Ierapetra?" Chimed Damokrates stepping forward.

“Of all Crete, of my lands to be.” Snapped the Prince, “There are nine Kingdoms and I want you to tell me of them.”

“Firstly my Prince, while there yes there are nine rulers across our great island there are but three true Kingdoms and six republics.” A thin arm reached around the Prince and rested on the western coast of a hand drawn map of Crete. “Your map is a delight my Prince you have captured in truth the sweeping grace of these lands.”

The Prince dropped his gaze from the map, “It a copy I made of one belonging to a Phrygian merchant, a poor copy.”

“When you are Basileus you will be showered with compliments and they are like wine. Where offered, take them and savour them but do not let them cloud your judgment” Damokrates lightly rested a hand on the Prince’s shoulder, “But back to my student’s map.”

“In the west we have Polyrrhenia, a republic in name but truly ruled by the rich and the powerful. They of all the Cretans are the most dangerous for their land is the only that provides iron, chief amongst the ingredients for war.”

“We then have Kydonia a republic of merchants lying on the north coast and the free Republic of Tarrha to their south. Their lands are amongst the most fertile and yield olives, grape and wine in abundance.”

“Next we have Elutherna ruled by the Basileus Helladid, no relation” Damokrates laughed at his joke. “There you will find a number of artisans, immensely skilled in the fashioning of glass. Your mother has a number of glass mosaics in the gynaeceum I believe that were gifted from Elutherna”

“East of Elutherna lies the ancient Kingdom of Knossos whose timeless history I will not speak of for fear twilight will chill our bones before I am but a gnats wing through their story. Nor will I speak of the minotaur for it would cause you to tremble long before the cold hand of Nyx arrives. While they are diminished in stature they are still a noble people creators of the finest boats, a skill which they have continued since the dark days of Idomeneus and the fall of Troy.” Damokrates smiles wistfully and rubbed his moist eyes before returning to the map.

“Below Elutherna and Knossos, the size of both combined, is Gortyna a republic of freeman. They are strong for they have access to both metals and bountiful harvests though they prefer words to war much to the relief of all.”

“As Crete narrows to it’s easterly coast we find our great Kingdom of Ierapetra to the south. A land long prosperous under your family’s glorious rule.” He bowed, “To the north the republic of Lyctus ruled by the wealthy for their own advancement. Long have there been tensions between our two rulers. In the mountains we share lies the Dikteon cave, birthplace of mighty Zeus, rightfully ours though the men of Lyctus disagree. For the most part it is contested solely with heated words though I fear there will one day be significant bloodshed.”

“Finally we come to the least of the peoples of Crete, Praesos. Pirates and thieves, growers of the driest, bitterest olives.” Said Damokrates. “And so there you have your nine Kingdoms, though in total there are ten regions in all.”

“Thank you Damokrates,” said the Prince putting down a reed pen with which he had been noting the map. “It is strange that you mentioned Troy for it made me think of the prophecy of Calchas.” Said the Prince staring intently at Damokrates, “Zeus sent a snake which devoured eight sparrows and their mother to signify the nine years needed to sack Troy. With Ierapetra there are nine Kingdoms on Crete, but without Ierapetra there are nine regions.” His eyes widened and he smiled, “Are we the mother who will be attacked from outside or are we the snake who will conquer from within?”

Damokrates laughed loudly, “That my Prince is a question worthy of the Gods.” He rubbed his smooth chin before replying, “You told me that your humors were earth and water certainly they are the humors of the snake. But if you want to be as you said earlier, other than you are, you must be fire and air which would make you the bird.” Damokrates crouched low such that his eyes were level with the Prince. “My advice is be true to yourself in both heart and mind. Standing he placed a gentle hand on the Prince’s auburn head. “Come, I can hear them calling you for food which you will certainly need if you are to ponder the nature of man.”

Prince Alkimos stood and walked towards the inner rooms and the fragrance of roasting goat. As he did he smiled and whispered, “Yes, I will be the snake.”

 

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CHAPTER ONE
BASILEUS ALKIMOS MEGALID
01/10/304BC - ​

 

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I) Beginnings
01/10/304BC
Ierapetra, Crete ​

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“My father is dead, drawn as we speak across the Styx to Elysium by the oars of Charon” The new Basileus paused and looked around the courtyard at the assembled men. “So ends, so begins. Time shall not be wasted in mourning as I become father to my people, aided by you great men of Crete”.

The courtyard resounded with a loud cheer and the sound of wine cups clashing on tables.

“Damokrates, my tutor, my friend. As a child you taught me all I know…”

“But was it all that I know?” Damokrates laughed lightly but his smile faltered at the rapid reddening of the Basileus’ face. “I jest Basileus, my pride at seeing you come into your birthright causes me to forget my place. And the wine” He raised his cup and his head nodded in supplication.

A tight smile set on Balileus Alkimos’ face, eyes intent and fierce turned upon the tutor blind to all else. “The love you hold for me and for Ierapetra is evident. As such I name you epiproxenos, chief diplomat and my voice where it cannot otherwise be.” His stare had not yet softened. “Remain after this session for I have your first task.”

“Who better to replace Damokrates Helladid as tropheus than Damokrates Helladid? My faith in you to teach your young is absolute, I shall pay no mind to those whispers calling you Damokrates the lesser. Where they started …” An almost imperceptible glance at the new epiproxenos, “… who knows?”

“Greatest of all our priests Chabrias Helladid shall be elevated to Hierophant, a position he has long since coveted. Indeed the Gods seem to have forced my hand in your appointment with the untimely death of your hale predecessor. Remember Chabrias for all that they are stern the Gods are also loving. Helios for example burns as well as he warms, there is a difference between the two.”

The Heirophant stood. “Wise words Basileus and ones I will take to my heart, I shall sacrifice to the Gods upon my return to the temple, do you have any requests?”

“Whoever you believe most appropriate Chabrias”

Chabrias frowned “While the Gods would prefer the choice to be from yourself I will think on it. Perhaps Athena in praise for you inquiring mind.” He sat the deep frown lines still etched on his brow.

“Athena would be a fine choice, do you not agree Aischines my new Philosophos? Knowledge is the greatest of gifts possessed by men, and you shall be our defender of all wisdom. Your eyes ever have blazed with feverish energy let us hope that flame does not jump the scrolls now in your protection. But remember the coin you use shall be mine so do not grasp it close to your chest as you do your own.” The Basileus laughed.

“Neoptolemos of my great and noble family you shall be Archigrammateus, keeper of the coin. Were it not for that hunk of bread in your hand, white and soft, I would think you King Midas reborn. There is no man in Crete better for the task.”

“Unless I were a Helladid I would imagine. If our family is so great how is it that we hold but one position? Should I be glad for your crumbs?” Neoptolemos’s face deepened to red, hand squeezing the hunk of bread it held.

Alkimos’ stern facade seemed to drop slightly in the face of this verbal tirade. “We are all of Crete, is Chrysilla my wife not a Helladid?”

“Aye she is, but what will your children be, surrounded by those dogs. I am ever loyal to you Basileus but do not forget your heritage.”

Basileus Alkimos reached for a cup of wine and took a deep draught, hand shaking. “Moving from heavenly minds to earthly bodies there are yet more positions for ennoblement.”

“Our new Epistrategos shall be Antigonous Sosthenid, may our armies forever be ready.” The previous eloquence now curt and blunt.

“Hopefully I shall only ever be faced by bitter words.” A glance at Neoptolemos, “But should anyone attempt to visit harm upon me Nikeratos Helladid shall be my Archisomatophylax, my shield. Beautiful Nikeratos as stong as Hercules and braver than Hector I shall fear no assailant for so ever as you are my shadow.”

“Finally and perhaps the greatest of all is Sosthenes Sosthenid who shall be Archiatros, my chief physician. May I ask that you attend my wife when we are finished? Her humors have been unbalanced of a morning these past weeks though I am sure you can settle her.”

Baslieus Alkimos raised a closed hand and pressed it to his chest. “My friends, together we shall gain the love of the people. Together we shall enrich Crete.” He gestured to a doorway. “Our session is ended though I shall send of you each to discuss your roles in greater details as time allows.”

The attendants, with the exception of Damokrates, filed passed the Basileus who embraced each in turn whispering in ears as cheeks were kissed.

The courtyard was at last empty but for the two men, shadows flitting on the ground as birds flew above the open roof.

Basileus Alkimos turned and stode towards Damokrates, he raised his hand and stuck the man across the right cheek with his open right hand.

“Never… Never mock me in public. Do you understand?”

“No Baslieus, an ill spoken jest nothing more.” Said Damokrates rubbing his cheek.

“It pains me to cause you hurt Damokrates, you have always been my friend. Now I am Basileus I must act as one. But the task I have for you, I believe will make amends.”

Regaining his composure Damokrates straightened and looked at the Basileus. “I am your servant.”

The Basileus turned took two steps before turning back on his heels. “Firstly you will travel to Lyctus, you will inform them that the new Basileus of Ierapetra wishes them to acknowledge the Dikteon Cave is ours and that our people, not theirs are blessed by Zeus.”

Damokrates smiled, “They will take it as an insult, I cannot see any agreement on their part”

“Nor I,” replied the Basileus “Which is why secondly you will take a boat from Lyctus and sail north to Ephesos, then overland to the Kingdom of Phrygia and strike a deal for the ongoing supply of iron from Leukophrys.”

The smile on Damokrates’ face was cheek to cheek.

Coming Next
Neighbours & Deals​

 

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II) Neighbours
03/10/304BC
City of Lyktos, Lyctus, Crete

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“You come here, to MY lands demanding that I surrender what is mine to your pup of a Basileus?” The reply of Simonides Dydid, Archon of Lyctus was slow and measured.

“Is Lyctus not a republic Archon? Strange that you claim these lands as yours when then are ‘of the people’.” Damokrates inclined his head and flashed a sneer.

The Archon stood and smoothed his white toga. “And if I were to entertain this friendly request how would … Lyctus benefit? No doubt you would promise us meat but deliver only fat and bone, or some other Promethean deceit.”

“We offer nothing Archon,” Damokrates extended his arms towards Simonides, palms open and facing up. “However they soon will be laden with iron,” hands clenched, “which I’m sure you agree can be just as persuasive as gold.” He drew in his arms and folded them on his lap.

“Now you threaten us?” Simonides smiled and laughed loudly. “Iron may make swords, which I am sure is your inference. But in the hands of a coward a sword is nothing but a lump of metal.” Spat Simonades.

“My Basileus is…” Stammered Damokrates.

“Your Basileus is a coward, I know him and he is weak, weak since the day he was born. Pens are not swords and papyrus is no shield, I do not fear your great Basileus nor the men of Ierapetra.”

“If that is your answer.” Replied Damokrates curtly as he stood.

“My answer is that the people of Lyctus are the true children of Zeus for it was in this city he was born. THE CITY IN WHICH YOU STAND.” The Archon’s words dripped venom and he aggressively pointed to the floor. He took a moment, a deep breath in and out, before continuing. “We shall not relinquish Zeus’ cave, though perhaps we will grant you a pen in the city in honour of your descent from pigs.” He smiled and pointed to the southern archway of the peristyle court which led to the agora. “Go and tell your Basileus we clamour for war. But war he will not make, only excuses and every day our horizon is clear of your foul silhouettes will be a black mark on his honour.”

Damokrates swallowed hard turned and strode towards the agora and towards Phrygia.

 

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III) Deals
10/10/304BC
City of Esphesos, Ionia, Ionia

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The room was nothing but a small windowless box of hot stagnant air. Its oppressive heat fueled by two wall-mounted torches burning mercilessly on the crumbling stone walls. Contained within was a decrepit wooden table on which was placed, amongst various other items of detritus, a clay plate laden with bread and olives alongside a deep wooden cup of wine.

On one side of the table sat a Persian ore merchant who despite the humidity and obscene temperature was wrapped in a woollen cloak. His face was covered with a thin sheen of sweat though heavier beading was visible across his bald head.

On the other sat Damokrates, Epiproxenos of Ierapetra face reddened, glazed in dripping perspiration.

“So Cretan you want Phyrigian Iron, no?’ Mumbled the merchant, taking a bite from a heel of bread. “Why should I sell it to you and not another?”

Damokrates shifted in the chair, wincing at the clammy fabric of his chiton as it clung to his back “I was not aware this was to be an audition, I was told to meet an ore dealer here am I not in the correct building?”

“You are where you need to be, I am Chukshek and I deal in ore.” Replied the merchant through a mouthful of bread. “I just need to know about the people who buy from me.”

Damokrates wiped his brown causing drops of sweat to fall onto his already sodden clothes. “Basileus Alkimos intends to conquer Crete fully, he will …”

“He intends…” Snorted the merchant gulping down a cup of un-watered wine. “I intended a beautiful wife, but God doesn’t care a man’s intentions. Why should I bed an ugly sow such as you when there may be a hundred of far greater beauty who want my iron?”

“We will soon be at war with Lyctus, there will be plunder when...” Started Damokrates.

“If.” Spat the merchant.

“... When we take their city and lands. We will need more iron to hold these lands and more still to expand. It will be a very profitable enterprise for us all.” Replied Damokrates seemingly un-phased by the interruption.

“Your tongue is loose Cretan, perhaps I use what you have given me for more gold. No?” He smiled showing dirty, decaying teeth coated in moist wine stained bread. “Perhaps I speak with your Cretan friends, they would, I imagine be generous to someone who told them of your plans? Thank you Chukshek this gold is for your warning, now we buy your iron for twice market price.” He leaned backwards in his chair arms outstretched to the side.

“Do you threaten me Persian? How dare you, my Basileus traces his line to Zeus.”

“Children of Zeus?” Laughed Chukshek, thumping the table with his palms. “If I were to piss on the ground of the Parthenon the spray would soil the togas of a hundred children of Zeus. They grow like warts on the face of a backstreet pornai.”

Damokrates stood forcefully, his chair skittering back against the dirty wall. “If you don’t want our gold I’m sure others would.”

Chukshek made a shushing noise and gestured towards the empty chair. “No offense my Cretan friend just sport, nothing more.” Again he gestured to the chair his face a mask of sweat and feigned sadness.
Damokrates scowled at the merchant as he sat. “I was given a price by your associate, I assume it remains the same?”

“The price for the ore remains the same,” he replied. “But there will be an extra twenty gold needed,” his mouth curved into a wry smile, “It is not always easy moving items from Phrygia, very difficult, very difficult to move it to Crete”

“Twenty? That seems high.”

“Hmmmm…” sighed Chukshek staring at Damokrates, as if for the first time. “I like you Cretan, you made me think of warty women which makes me think of my mother. Five gold, needed only to allow certain officials to for a time forget certain taxes.”

Damokrates nodded, “I can agree to that.”

Chukshek’s smile ran from ear to ear, “Excellent, the five gold will be needed now but the remainder should be delivered to the dock tomorrow at noon. Ask for my colleague Zokrates, a fine Greek fellow.”

Damokrates dropped five coins on the emptiest park of the table he could find. “Tomorrow then Chukshek, though I hope there are now extra fees.” Said Damokrates as he walked towards the door.

“No extra fees, though do not mention to Zokrates the extra today for though some will fall into his pocket he will want more no doubt.” Chukshek paused, scooping up the coins and depositing them beneath his cloak. “Good luck in your war Cretan, may Zeus hear your prayers above his many other children. Perhaps I will be generous and ask Ahura Mazda to bless your venture.” He shrugged as he took a handful of olives.

Damokrates stepped out into the marginally cooler corridor, closing the door behind him. As the sound of sandaled feet on stone slowly diminished Chukshek finished off first the wine, then the food. Upon finishing he thoroughly wiped his face with the cloak, stood and arranged the two seats neatly under the table before standing attentively in the corner.

He stood like this for ten minutes before the door opened and a tall man entered. He was clothed in a pristine bone white chiton, pinned at the shoulder with a gold broach. Still holding the door open his eyes moved from the table to Chukshek.

“Chukshek has the Cretan emissary arrived?”

“Yes Master Zokrates,” His eyes were directed to the ground, arms pinned to his sides “I told him you would be late like you said but he didn’t have time to wait. He ate your food and drank your wine and said he took no orders from slaves when I tried to stop him. Master he said he would be by the docks tomorrow noon with your payment.”

“Chukshek you are the worst, the stupidest of my slaves.” Zokrates’ scowled. “Go to the docks and help them load the ships. If you can’t be trusted to carry out jobs which require finesse I’ll use you for those that require your worthless body and nothing else.” He exhaled sharply through his nose before turning striding away from the room.

Chukshek slowly followed behind, head down and eyes fixed on the ground. The shuffling of his sandals just masking the sound of jangling coins.

 

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IV) A War Hindered
31/10/304BC
City of Hierapetra, Ierapetra, Crete​

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“Neoptolemos, Antigonos, Damokrates.” Spoke Basileus Alkimos Megalid dully, nodding at each of the men sitting before him. “I have called you to discuss recent matters of diplomacy.” He sat in a marble thronos at the rear of a well-sized throne room, the walls of which were a deep terracotta stylized with white palm trees.

Antigonos leaned forward, back hunched and eyes intent on the Basileus, “Would that you had sought my advice before now Basileus.” He paused and turned his head to face Damokrates. “Like the song of a preening Hoopoe have stories been carried to my ears.”

“Speak not without leave Antigonos” Snarled Damokrates, his lip curled.

“As you do Damokrates?” Spat Antigonos. “What did you sing to Simonides when you were in Lyctus such that he builds defences. What fears did you stir with your sweet, sweet words?”

“SILENCE!” Screamed Basileus Alkimos, his voice loud but entirely lacking conviction. “I am Basileus and I do not answer to you. Damokrates related my message to Lyctus, nothing more.”

The three men sitting before the throne submissively inclined their heads.

“Rhodes invited us to sign a defensive pact for mutual protection. This would be impractical, we have no fleet and I could not allow us to be drawn into a foreign war.” As he spoke the Basileus stared vacantly across the room and through the distant doorway.

“Or any war.” Whispered Antigonos, the movement of his lips so slight it passed unnoticed.

“We were then made a similar offer by Gortyna and their subject Tarrha which I accepted. Combined, their army is greater and better supplied. In truth their strength is greater and so better a friend.” The Basileus paused then hesitantly added, “For now.”

“If only Gortyna and Tarrha were in our league Basileus I could understand the decision but Lyctus are now included, are they not, and Knossos?” Replied Antigonos calmly.

“Gortyna, shortly after our accord added both Lyctus and Knossos to their league. Our terms on signing the agreement were that we would need to ratify all later entrants. It appears these invitations were sent before we joined and so our conditions did not apply.” Though it was imperceptible to his audience Basileus Alkimos’ hands were clasped so tight as to whiten his knuckles, nails digging painfully into his skin.

“So now we are unable to attack?” Antigonos’ eyes were closed a frown creasing his forehead.

“That is correct.” Replied the Basileus.

“So the swords rust un-blooded as Ares spits on us as cowards?” Antigonos turned towards Neoptolemos “Swords which have not been paid for as you have not provided the gold for the smiths.”

“Antigonos I cannot release to you the gold until our Basileus provides his authority.” Replied the treasurer.
Basileus Alkimos looked sheepishly towards the wall.

“Basileus we must move against Lyctus soon.” Pleaded Antigonos “No sooner had Damokrates left them for Ionia did they start construction of a fort. Should it be finished, it could take years to siege and have no doubts they will be trying to secure allies. As it stands to attack, which you make clear was your intent when you took the throne, we must leave the league.” Antigonos swept his gaze across all in the room. “If that happens we will be beset from the west by Gortyna, Tarrha and Knossos while Praesos will attack from the east. With the Gods’ favour victory is possible but if, and only if, we attack before they finish their fort.”

“Antigonos you advise me of war and I value your council. Patience must be exercised, we build and we wait” The Basileus glanced at Neoptolemos. “Provide the Epistrategos with the resources he needs, our craftsmen should not suffer for this delay.”

Neoptolemos nodded in acquiescence.

“When a moment presents itself we will march.” The Basileus stood and brushed his chiton.

“Basileus as your advisor of all things war I pray that you beware Gortyna. Have no doubt that they are aware of their actions in chaining us to this defensive league. They have made to shackle us and halt our expansion, they will have no concerns attacking us at the slightest provocation.” Antigonos stood, as did the others.

A look of concentration settled on the Baslieus’ face before he looked up Antigonos and smiled, “Aristotle said that that we make war so that we may live in peace.” He frowned, “Epistrategos, make arrangements to expand and train the army with a suitable general at its head, I cannot attack but I can defend.” He gestured to the door leading out of the throne room, “Leave me.”

“Basileus.” Chorused the three men as they took three steps backwards before turning and striding forward, shoulder to shoulder, towards the exit.

“He will not fight, he is still the scared boy.” Whispered Antigonos

“You don’t deserve your position” Hissed Damokrates

“You think I care of your opinion? By Ares there must be war, his fire is cold but not extinguished and that can be remedied.” Antigonos reached and grabbed Damokrates’ shoulder, spinning the man to face him. “I have no doubt Damokrates you will run and tell him of this but know that as you raise his ire so do you raise the chances of war.”

 

[PEnglish82]

V) The Line Extends
04/04/303BC
City of Hierapetra, Ierapetra, Crete​

The door to the andrones swung open violently causing Basileus Alkimos to jump, his arm jerked knocking over a pot of ink. “How dare you disturb me while I study…” Hissed the Basileus turning to look at the intruder. As he made eye contact he blanched and seemed to shrink in the seat, “Chrysilla.” He squeaked.

“A surprise that you remember my name husband for it has been many moons since you have spoken to me.” Chrysilla strode purposefully into the room, the thin fabric of her peplos trailing behind. “You shun me like some common slave, dismiss me, ignore me. Do you have no respect for me, the mother of your unborn child?”

“Chrysilla I have no time for this,” He replied through gritted teeth. “I have provided you with handmaidens, they should be company enough and have..” He looked at her swollen belly, “…Experience with your condition. If you have issues summon Sosthenes, leave me now I have matters to attend to.” He turned back to the table scowling at the ink stained sheets.

“What matters do you have?” She took a step closer. “You do nothing, that is what they say. You hide inside with your books while Crete laughs at you.” She sighed and looked away. “They question my honor.” The words were cold. “How can this man, this coward of a man, have fathered a child.” She stooped, bringing her head closer to his. “Who is the real father they whisper as they laugh at us both.”

Basileus Alkimos surged explosively to his feet, swinging to face his wife. His hands shot forward grasping her just above the elbow in a vice like grip.

“Do I care what they say of you harpy?” He spat through gritted teeth. “Every day they hound me for war, crying for blood.” Spittle flew from his mouth as he spoke, grip maintained and pushing her towards the door. “What if I don’t want it, what if I don’t want war?”

Chrysilla’s eyes were wide and her mouth tight and trembling. “Alkimos, please…”

Basileus Alkimos halted and closed his eyes, lips moving wordlessly.

After a heartbeat or two his eyes opened, staring directly at Chrysilla. “You will give birth an heir and you will have every comfort you need.” The words were slow and measured. “But you will not have any more of my time or affection than is needed to publicly maintain this theatre.” Grip released and standing as still as a statue he looked towards the door.

“Basileus.” She replied, then turned and left the room, her steps slow but powerful.

28/04/303BC
City of Hierapetra, Ierapetra, Crete​

​

“Basileus, no sooner had you rejected an alliance with Praesos did they run to Lyctus.” Said Damokrates to Basileus Alkimos as they walked down the hallway.

“They are allied, outside of the league?” Replied the Basileus.

“Yes and both are constructing sizable forts in their lands.” Damokrates stopped as a loud scream rang down the corridor but upon realising the Basileus had continued he scurried after him.

“Still I am tested.” Muttered the Basileus. “I can feel Neoptolemos’ breath on my neck and his sharp whispers in my ear, ‘we must attack now else they will move on us’.” Another scream only this time louder.

“My Basileus, never do I make demands or act outside your instructions, but…” Damokrates’ face was pained.

“But?” Replied the Basileus as his eyes flitted to the approaching corridor leading off to the right.

Damokrates took a deep breath holding it for a second. “When you were a child you spoke of snakes and birds, prophecies and the future of Crete.” He bit his lip. “Gortyna, Lyctus, Praesos…” A pause. “You. Basileus one of us must be the snake and if it is not us then we will lose everything. Neoptolemos has strengthened the army Leonidas Sosthenid is a fine general.”

The two men had paused at the junction.

Another scream, the scream of a woman.

Muted voices.

“You council me to war Damokrates?” Asked the Basileus.

A long scream, resolute, primal.

Damokrates nodded.

A breathless cry, triumphant.

Basileus Alkimos’ eyes were wide his body tense.

The wail of a child.

“A boy.” Came a joyous cry. “It’s a boy.”

A tear ran down the cheek of the Basileus his haunted eyes still focused ahead. “But what if I don’t want it?”

 

[PEnglish82]

VI) Ares Attends
02/02/302BC
City of Hierapertra, Ierapetra, Crete​

​

“Your army is complete Basileus but for the Pezhetairoi, as we have made no stride towards war I felt it prudent to delay their recruitment.” Said Antigonos Sosthenid, gesturing across the field on which around two hundred men currently trained. “We group the men into syntagmas which are then trained individually across the days and week. Their day to day labours are unaffected and once I am satisfied they have developed the basics the formal training will cease.”

Basileus Alkimos’ was quiet as he watched the men. Some were practicing shield formation the clash of their aspides audible while others marched with long wooden spears resting against their shoulders. “How many man do we have in total?” Asked the Basileus.

“Some ten thousand, six of which are infantry the remainder archers and other skirmishers.” As he answered he puffed out his chest. “Lyctus we believe have but four thousand, when we strike victory is guaranteed.”
“Indeed.” Basileus Alkimos turned and blinked at Antigonos as if seeing him for the first time. “You have installed a general?”

“Aye he’s young but fear not for he possesses the body of an ox and the mind of a fox” Antigonos turned the the field and let loose a whistle of ear-piercing volume. “LEONIDAS.” He raised his arm and beckoned the general to where he stood. “LEONIDAS YOU ARE NEEDED.”

There was a horn blast that stopped all movement on the field. A tall, dark haired man yelled something inaudible before turning and jogging towards the two men standing on the peripheries of the field. As he approached the man resolved into a felt cheeked sapling, one hand resting on the pommel of a xiphos slung low on his left hip, the other clutched tightly a horn.

“Uncle.” Beamed Leonidas as he embraced the Epistrategos before turning to nod solemnly at the other man, “Basileus.”

The Basileus looked from his Epistrategos to the general. “Uncle? It seems the army answers to the Sosthenid family, I trust they answer the Megalids above all?”

“Always Basileus.” Promptly replied Antigonos following it with a deep bow. “We are your servants eternal Basileus. For Ierapetra and your noble line do we ever strive. ”I am your Epistrategos and I hope that Leonidas will be the same for your son Prince Philippos.”

“The army I assume is unready for war general given they have been training for but hours these scant weeks?” Asked the Basileus.

“They have taken to training well and the equipment is of high quality, when we march on Lyctus this combined with their superior numbers…” Leonidas paused, sniffed and set his jaw. “They are ready for whenever you call for them.”

“Hmmm…” hummed the Basileus as he looked askance at the soldiers as they milled around taking a break in the absence of their general. “Excellent work general, you are dismissed.”

“Basileus.” Nodded the Leonidas and again to Antigonos before turning to jog back towards his men. As he did so, and without breaking stride, he raised the horn to his lips and let out a deep blast. The men, as one, sighed raising their shields and spears in readiness to finish their session.

Waiting until his nephew was out of earshot Antigonos turned to the Basileus, “As you see the army is ready, word has it Lyctus and Praesos will complete their forts in but months. Has this visit reassured you that the war will unquestionably be won?”

“Never have I doubted our victory Antigonos nor the courage of my men.” Replied the Basileus in a measured tone. “It is the Defensive League and alliances that stay my hand. These have not changed and so neither has my decision, we cannot make war.”

“Perhaps there is a middle way Basileus?” Asked Antigonos taking a step forward. “Use gold for the employ of mercenaries, have them harass the construction sites it would buy us valuable time.”

Basileus Alkimos shook his head, his face a mask of distaste. “Absolutely not, I would not lower myself so. Shame on you for considering it.” Upon noticing the look of scorned sadness wash over Antiginos’ face he added. “I won’t punish you this time.”

02/03/302BC
City of Hierapetra, Ierapetra, Crete

​

The main agora of Hierapetra was heaving, news had circulated that there would be a flogging which had caused the freemen to down tools and make haste to ensure the finest viewing spots. Facing onto the agora was a raised level beyond which the oikos and other buildings of the finer citizens were built keeping them separate from those of the freemen and lower classes.

It was upon this level that Basileus Alkimos appeared side-by-side with Epistrategos Antigonos both stopping as they reached the waist high decorative wall.

The chattering stopped as a thick air of anticipation descended.

“People of Ierapetra I bring before you a criminal.” The Basileus set his hand upon Antigonos’ shoulder. “This man, a man we trust with our army, has been found stealing gold from the treasury.” His voice was not one for oration and was laced with nerves.

Whispers rustled from the crowd, ‘death’ and ‘flogging’ could be faintly heard.

“He stole to hire men to attack Lyctus, he stole to offer up tribute to Ares.” Croaked the Basileus. “For this he will not be punished.” His hand dropped from Antigonos.

The chorus of disapproval from the crowd was audible.

“For I too wish war against Lyctus.”

Gasps and cries carried in a wave from the back of the assembly.

“But war is more than just men and swords. The Gods will give sign when we can attack and I will not hold…” The Basileus stopped as he raised on his toes, craning to see what was causing the commotion.

A channel was being carved through the throng of people, as if a wedge was being driven through the people.

“Fetch me a sword and attend your Basileus.” Cried Antigonos.

Nikeratos Helladid ran forward to flank the Basileus eyes staring down intently at the agora.

The final row of freemen parted and from the opening sped a dirty looking man astride a hazel coloured horse. As he entered the uncrowded area the man pulled back on the reigns causing the horse to decelerate and turn clockwise in a tight circle. As the horse moved he tried to keep his eyes towards the higher platform as if looking for someone.

“Who are you man? Answer.” Called Antigonos as he buckled a sword belt around his waist.

“He’s one of mine.” Spoke Damokrates Helladid stepping forward. “Arrhid is his name, I had sent him to Gortyna on a diplomatic errand.”

Man and horse had now stopped both facing the men of class.

“Basileus!” Cried Ahhrid. “Lyctus have left the league, they are now alone and without protection!”

“There is your signal Basileus. There is your signal” Shouted Antigonos forgetting himself and grasping Basileus Alkimos by the shoulders. “Ares has heard and Ares has answered.” Then, either in the throws of genuine divine delirium or safe in the knowledge it could be excused as such he unsheathed his sword and raised it to the sky. Taking a moment he looked over the crowd below he screamed, “WAR!! We march on Lyctus.” His sword shaking in the air.

The crowd below erupted with cheers and cries, the whole mass violently convulsing as men women and children shook clenched fists.

“War.” Cried Basileus Alkimos his febrile voice lost in the crescendo.

 

[PEnglish82]

WAR - First Ierapetran War for Lyktos
03/03/302BC to 25/04/302BC
​

The war between Ierapetra and Lyctus was, truly, no more than a skirmish betwixt two similarly sized Cretan poleis, though records confirm Ierapetra possessed superior numbers.

The advantage it seems was with Ierapetra who benefited from learning of Lyctus’ decision to leave their defensive league during a public gathering. In attendance were the Basileus, the whole boule and a significant proportion of the local freemen, enabling a rapid mustering of men such that the march on Lyctus was fully prepared for the following dawn.

On the morning of March 3rd 302BC some ten thousand men, led by general Leonidas Sosthenid, comprising of around six thousand hypaspists and four thousand psiloi marched north aiming to cross the Dikti mountain range and descend en masse upon Lyktos. Notable in his absence was Basileus Alkimos as commented an unknown source shortly after the war was concluded:

“As the men of Ierapetra fell behind their aspides with honour, their Basileus lived behind walls without.’
- unknown​

News of the Ierapetran force quickly made it’s way to the ears of Simonides Dydid, Archon of Lyctus. While there had been some historic posturing from the Ierapetran Basileus it would appear little notice had been taken by Lyctus, for while construction of defensive works had been started (though only completed by Ierapetra after their war for Knossos, and in response to a later Phrygian presence on Crete) their army stood at a meager four thousand archers.

Regardless of their lesser numbers Lyctus arranged their army, with Ktesikles Dydid installed as general, and in haste marched south hoping to occupy high-ground while they awaited the arrival of the approaching foe.

On the 13th March 302BC the armies met at a point where the Dikti mountains swept down onto the Lassithi Plateau. The men of Lyctus had just reached the base of a sloping ascent when cries rang out, cresting the high-ground and silhouetted against the bright blue sky were the Ierapetrans.

The battle was a rout that became a massacre. The Lyctan archers scrambled for their bows and let loose their arrows, the distance and height coupled with a slight prevailing wind meant that their attack was ineffectual with the majority of the missiles falling well short of distance. The Ierapetrans on the other-hand had all of the right conditions for making war and their arrows fell like rain upon the panicking Lyctan archers.

As they fell by the score the Lyctan realised that the battle was already lost and so turned and ran. It is at this point, reports state, that General Leonidas observing the rout drew his sword and charged down the slope passionately blowing on his horn (which likely is the reason for his later cognomen) to encourage his men to chase down the enemy;

“… As the dogs of Lyctus were dispatched under the sky painted black with victory did we hear the crash of thunder. Only as our eyes turned from the ground below did we see it was not Zeus applauding our deeds but Leonidas calling us onward, the shriek of his horn a cry from Hades telling us our work was not yet done.’
- Ierapetran soldier’s journal​

The buoyant Ierapetrans fell upon the fleeing army and slaughtered them to man (by comparison only 128 of the victorious army perished in the encounter), the only survivor was Ktesikles Dydid who was taken prisoner and later executed. Now all that was needed to achieve total victory was to reach and occupy the lightly fortified city of Lyktos and so the army resumed their journey north in high spirits.

Though it took over a month Lyktos was eventually occupied by Leonidas’ army who took as prisoner the noble families of the now deposed Lyctan republic, nervously awaiting the arrival of their new Basileus. With the claiming of Lyktos, Ierapetra had all but doubled the population living within it’s boundaries and gained access to the bountiful waters of the Mare Creticum.

On 25th April 302BC Basileus Alkimos arrived in his new city needing first to decide how to treat the noble prisoners. His meeting with Simonides Dydid was marred by an episode of violence the likes of which occurred with greater frequency as his rule continued. The event was detailed by Lyctan nobleman Pantaleon Leukonid who would soon be appointed the new Archiatros;

“First was it that I treated Alkimos after he had visited Archon Simonides. From my cell did men drag me to his prone form, where seemingly Hypnos had claimed him following an extreme mania. Blood quenched his himation, not of his own body, but he was brought round with herb and water. No request was made to treat the Archon, having glimpsed what remained, I am thankful.”
- Pantaleon Leukonid (Archiatros of Lyctus and later of Ierapetra)​

 

[PEnglish82]

VII) A People Triumphant

25/04/302BC
The Agora, City of Lyktos, Lyctus, Crete

​

Lyktos following the successful Ierapetran siege was a place of jubilation. The near 10,000 victorious troops filled the streets in a celebration particular to men who find themselves drinking wine for which no payment is needed and in the company of women whom their wives will never meet. Ribald songs were sung, bonds were made and bonds were strengthened and all lavished praised thanks on General Leonidas who had won them victory.

Two men stood apart from the main celebration ongoing in the agora.

“The bugler.” Mirthfully roared the epistrategos as he turned to his friend “They call him the bugler.” He laughed and raised a cup of wine to his lips.

“A name well earned Antigonos.” Diodotos draped his left arm around the others shoulder before raising the right towards the horizon. “You did not see him.” His eyes stared thoughtfully into the distance, arm drawing slowly in an expansive gesture. “You did not see him, limned in light, a Goliath calling our men onward towards victory.”

“Truly?”

“Nay” Snorted Diodotos slapping Antigonos on the back. “He fell, lost his footing on the scree and rolled to the bottom. Fell like a turd from Zeus.” The man snorted and snatched the cup from Antigonos’ hand. “That Gods awful pipe was stuck to his lips, hooting like some dying owl all the way down.”

Antigonos chuckled wiping his eyes with his chlamys “Still, he led them well I hear.”

“That he did, in truth with our superior numbers tactics meant little but he chased them down like a wolf would a lame goat” He offered back the cup. “That being said there are some who may have held back from the slaughter, no doubt leading to a longer siege.”

Antigonos sighed as he returned his gaze to the celebrations. “Speaking of which has the Basileus walked amongst the men? Congratulated Leonidas?”

“No, he headed straight for the temple.” He pointed off to the west. “Asked they bring the Arc…” he caught himself mid sentence “… the old archon.”

Antigonos looked at his cup in puzzlement before tipping and shaking it, empty. “Pah… Let us focus on victory and hope that it whets the appetites of our esteemed ruler.” He smiled, his complexion ruddy through wine, and vigorously ruffled Diodotos’ hair. “Come let us find my nephew.” He pulled Diototos away towards the celebrations. “Ha, The Bugler!! Should've heard the boy fart as a child, Bugler indeed.”

They walked away, a slight weave in their step.

Temple of Zeus, City of Lyktos, Lyctus, Crete

​

The sound of the festivities, from inside of the temple, was but a low rumble. The air was cool with a sharp metallic scent that still lingered, long after the neck of the sacrificial bull had been opened. A death that ultimately served no purpose.

Basileus Alkimos sat on a low wooden bench looking up at a roughly hewn marble likeness of Zeus. At the rear of the small stone temple stood his archisomatophylax Nikeratos Helladid, almost a statue a himself.

A pounding on the door roused the Basileus causing him to jump to his feet, he spun, eyes flicking towards Nikeratos then to the door. His right hand hidden beneath his clamys tightened.

The door opened and framed two men, one a soldier of Ierapetra the other Simonides Dydid defeated Archon of Lyctus.

“Basileus, I’ve brought him as you asked.” Said the soldier as he roughly pushed the prisoner across the threshold, himself following close behind. They walked the centre towards the Basileus, both stealing a glance at Nikeratos as they passed him in his shadowy alcove. “Chained by the feet and hands Basileus, not that he’s any danger.” He scowled at the prisoner before holding out a key which was taken by the Basileus.

“You may leave soldier and you too Nikeratos.” The archisomatophylax’s eyes flashed in the dark as he regarded the prisoner and the Basileus. Seemingly satisfied there was a barely perceptible nod from him before he stalked from the temple followed by the soldier who closed the door with a creak and a bang.

“I find myself at your mercy Basileus.” Croaked Simonides through dry cracked lips. “Congratulations on your victory, if I or my family can help with the transition…” The chains on his wrists rattled noisily.

“Pigs.” Hissed the Basileus as he turned from the prisoner, eyes settling again on the statue of Zeus.

A pained expression fell across Simonides’ face “I do not understand.”

“When my epiproxenos graciously asked you to cede us the Dikteon Cave.” He turned his head to the left, back still to the prisoner. “You declined.” His face turned away. “You said I am descended from pigs.”

An anxiety came over Simonides. “Words, Basileus.” He started to take a step forwards but reconsidered. “Nothing but words.”

The Basileus laughed a light breathless laugh. “Father Zeus, what should I do with this man?” He turned to face Simonides. “With his family?”

Simonides’ eyes widened and he offered his hands in supplication. “Basileus, please…”

“Shhhhh.” Hissed the Basileus as he slowly approached. “Why should I spare you Archon?” A smile played across his lips.

“Basileus I can help you, you are not a man of war, of violence, you are …”

“A coward?” Snapped the Basileus.

“That is not what…” Simonides was silenced with a look.

The Basileus threw a key to the ground in front of Simonides. “War is not what I wanted, it is not my nature that is true.” He nodded to the key. “You are free Simonides unlock your chains” He said loudly, watching as the prisoner knelt and retrieved the key. After a number of fumbling seconds the chains fell to the ground and Simonides smiled rubbing his red wrists.

“Thanks eternal Basileus” said Simonides smiling as the Basileus approached, wrapping his left arm around him in an embrace, head resting on his shoulder.

“But I cannot be seen as a coward.” Whispered the Basileus into Simonides ear. Feeling him attempt to pull away, the Basileus tightened his grip. His right arm shot out from under the chlamys, metal flashing like lightning in the dark.

Before he could cry out or utter a word a knife plunged into Simonides neck, hilt deep, flat of the blade scraping across his spine. Thick red blood surged from the wound as the knife plunged in and out with a ravenous fury. Adrenaline raced through the Basileus’ body causing his breathing to become rapid and shallow, eyes wide and burning with maniacal frenzy.

But seconds did the assault last before the Basileus’ body railed against the horror, depleted he fell forward, the savaged body of Simonides a cushion between him and the ground. Lucidity hit him hard as he took in the blood, pooling like a sea around him, pink froth coating the mouth of a head attached by threads of meat so tenuously to its lifeless body that it was almost detached.

He coughed and followed it with a dry heave, eyes streaming but unable to close, unable to turn-away from the heads empty gaze.

He screamed, a primal piercing scream, screamed like a child.

As he did he tried to stand using his hands to push himself up but they slipped out beneath him causing him to roll sideways, the cooling blood soaking through the fabric of this clothes.

The door swung open, rattling at the hinges, footsteps hurried down “BASILEUS!!” They screamed.

Faces appeared above him, he knew not who they were, nor did he care.

“Tried…” His words almost lost between racking sobs. “Tried to kill me…”

More footsteps, more voices.

“Kill his family. Kill them all.”

Darkness crept in at the periphery of his sight, blackness stole his vision as it also settled over his mind.

“Try and find a Archiatros amongst these bastards.” Was the last thing he heard before he lost consciousness.

 

[PEnglish82]

VIII) A Brief Peace
01/05/302BC
City of Lyktos, Ierapetran Crete

The bouleuterion of Lyktos was a plain building at the heart of the agora and for years the voice of debate had echoed within its walls, now it was silent.

Along three of the four walls ran, in their entirety, stone seating in three rising levels, what would have been the fourth wall was open to the agora and held two ionic columns.

In the central speaker’s well, facing the open wall, had been placed a throne on which Basileus Alkimos sat in silence, flanked by Nikeratos Helladid. The Basileus looked drawn, his eyes dark and sunken, lids heavy, a tremble to the hands resting lightly on the arms of the throne.

After a time footsteps could be heard, increasing in volume as they neared. The Basileus straightened with a wince just as two figures appeared at the entrance, one was General Leonidas ‘The Bugler’ of Irepetra, the other Phrynichos Gylippid former epistrategos of Lyctus. The men entered the council chamber and halted five paces from the throne, Leonidas bowed his head as did Phrynichos though the latter did so with a delay.

“Congratulations on your victory Leonidas.” Started the Basileus. “Though anything other given our superiority would have been inexcusable.”

Leonidas smiled coldly. “Indeed Basileus, it is an impressive army my uncle has assembled.” The answering stare was colder still. “Still we are both blooded now, for which Ierapetra finds herself strengthened.”

The Basileus looked down to his right hand as it slowly clenched and unclenched. “Let it be a lesson that I act decisively when required.”

“The screams of the Dydids is evidence of that Basileus.” Leonidas threw a sideways glance to the man at his right.

Basileus Alkimos looked across to Phrynichos. “There will no mercy for those that raise a weapon to myself or Ierapetra, only to those who offer loyalty.” His gaze was appraising. “You know of Pantaleon Leukonid Lyctan?”
“He is a physician, a good one.” Phrynichos answered in a deep confident voice. “He saw to you after you slew Simonides Dydid. The dog deserved death, your justice was equal to his dishonor.”

“Good,” replied the Basileus, “Then I name you and your family as friends.”

Phrynichos swallowed forcefully and tension seemed to drip from his body.

“I would also name you general.” The Basileus winced as he pushed himself to his feet. “You are a military man and we find ourselves with more land to defend.” He looked at Leonidas. “General Sosthenid you will half the army and transfer them to General Gylippid.” He smiled wryly.

“But Basilus, the men are loyal to me, they…” Stammered Leonidas.

“Loyal to Ierapetra surely general?” Answered the Basileus coolly. “Two armies, two generals … Ierapetra would be strengthened.”

Leonidas nodded, lips pursed.

“General Gylippid you will remain here with your forces, remember they are loyal to Ierapetra who is in turn loyal to her friends.” He gestured to Nikeratos, bringing him to heel. “General Sosthenid you will return to Hierapetra with your remaining men, we leave in the morning.”

The two generals bowed then sidestepped allowing the Basileus to walk between them.

“Come Nikeratos I must visit the city archives at the metroon.” Said Basileus Alkimos as he walked slowly towards the agora. “Leonidas.” He called, stopping just before leaving the bouleuterion. “Do not worry, our return journey will be by the low roads, I would not want you to fall, again.”​

11/10/302BC
City of Gortyna, Gortinian Crete

“Gortyna is honoured to host you Basileus.” Said Archon Seleukos as he took a cup of watered wine from a slave girl. “It is unusual for you to attend diplomatic meetings yourself, outside of Hierapetra that is.”

“My boule speak with my voice, Damokrates is both effective and servile.” Said Baileus Alkimos as he declined wine with a small wave. “My lands have extended, as has the time needed for administration.”

“Ah yes.” Said Archon Seleukos licking his lips. “Lyctus. Gortyna shed a tear when they fell, as democracy was killed by tyranny.” He shrugged. “No offense intended.”

“And will you shed a tear when Knossos falls to Phrygia?” Asked the Basileus.

“A curious thing is this war.” Replied the Archon shaking his drained cup at the slave. “Though I am relieved venerable Knossos withdrew from our defensive league, I do not believe Phrygia will attack.” A replenished cup appeared in his hand. “A show of force, nothing more.”

“If it is not? Phrygia can raise a hundred thousand men.” Asked the Basileus.

“They could not raise and transport them here, Cretan soil will not be despoiled by their feet.” Scoffed the Archon.
“Can we take that risk?” Asked the Basileus in a whisper.

“What do you suggest?” Scowled the Archon. “Wage war on Phrygia?” He laughed, “That would be certain defeat, add to that the coin we would lose in trade.” He shook his head.

Basileus Alkimos leant forward. “Do not take me for a fool, I can weigh up the outcome of a war.”
“Then what?” replied the Archon sarcastically. “Don’t keep me in suspense.”

Basileus Alkimos smiled slyly “Ierapetra takes Knossos, and Gortyna takes Eleutherna. If they are defeated Phrygia will have no-one to attack and their attention will move elsewhere.”

Archon Seleukos’ expression, at first incredulous gave way to a wide smile and a rapturous laugh. “This is a jest surely?” He replied mirthfully. “You would wage war on fellow Cretans, kill them in their thousands to stop a war that would never begin?” He brought his hand to his face and rubbed his eyes. “Has the mania of Lyctus not yet released it’s grasp of your mind? After a single battle you fashion yourself Alexander?”

The Basileus, face white, lashed out knocking clear the cups and plates resting on the table between them. “Do not mock me!” He cried “I have seen battle, my men have seen battle.” He lurched to his feet. “We will remember this insult as we remembered the insults of Lyctus.” He spat.

“As you find yourself on your feet, find your way out Basileus.” Replied the Archon sharply. “And be mindful if you purposely invite a war we will provide no assistance.

The Basileus stormed out of the room, his blood raging.​

 

[PEnglish82]

WAR - First Ierapetran-Knossian War
25/11/302BC to 07/08/301BC
​

Despite occurring a scant six months later than the victory over Lyctus, the Ierapetran war for Knossos is now widely believed to be, in essence, a defensive war.
There was no obvious justification nor provocation, indeed some two months earlier they were amiable members of a defensive league, along with Gortyna, Eleutherna, Kydonia and Praesos.

The consensus is that Ierapetra declared war on Knossos, and her ally Eleutherna, in order to create a firebreak of sorts against an impending attack by Phyrigia. In taking Knossos and Eleutherna before they could be sieged by Phrygia, the likely objective would be to deny Antigonus Antigonid a foothold in Crete.

While the war between Phrygia and Knossos began in August 302BC there were no immediate skirmishes, understandable given geographical distances. Knossos was able to call around 5,000 men with 9,000 provided by her ally Eleutherna, compare this to the rumored 100,000 men of Phrygia and quite rightly were the Cretan poleis nervous.
The question should be asked, why did Knossos leave the defensive league prior to the declaration of war by Phrygia? Was it to protect their follow poleis from an anticipated war or were they perhaps blind to the forthcoming Phrygian hostilities and planned on their own Cretan conquests? Sadly, it is impossible to know as following the siege of Knossos the entire ruling elite was crucified.

Ierapetra entered the war in August 302BC when they marched their 10,000 men, led by Leonidas ‘The Bugler’ and Phrynichos Gylippid, on Knossos. At that time Knossos was in the process of boarding their 5,000 men onto a hastily constructed fleet of triremes who would then move to attack the Phrygian mainland. The Ierapetran forces marched west along the northern coast of Crete and, in November 302BC, fell upon the army of Knossos around the port of Heraklion, despite being outnumbered two to one the result, though an Ierapetran victory, was far from decisive. For the 1226 men of Knossos that fell so did 894 of their opposite number, in spite of their fallen numbers and in the face of a superior enemy the army of Knossos did not route and instead ordered a tactical retreat.

Leonidas ‘the Bugler’ exercised caution and conscious of 9,000 troops in Eleutherna, which reports indicated were mobilising to support their allies in Knossos, chose not to run down the retreating army and instead made straight for the polis of Knossos which was then sieged.

The siege of Knossos was a straightforward affair and free of any interruptions, with the forces of Knossos regrouping around Lyctus and the Elutherians still on the march. On 12 February 302BC Knossos fell yielding herself to the besiegers but had she held out for just three more days the outcome could have been so different, for on 15 February 302BC the 9,000 of Eleutherna arrived.

Had Eleutherna arrived at the rear of a besieging army they would have held a significant advantage and a very real chance of defeating their enemy. As it was the Ierapetran army was jubilant in victory and prepared to defend the newly occupied polis. The armies were fairly matched in numbers with 9000 Eleuthernian men marching against 9100 of Ierapetra.
Initially the missile units faced off, those of Ierapetra, commanded by Leonidas, numbering near double those of Eleutherna. Losses were similar though with their lower overall numbers the Eleuthernian archers were first to break and withdrew behind the lines of some 6000 light infantry.

The Eleuthernian infantry advanced, on the out-manned but confident 3500 infantry of Ierapetra, under a hail of arrows. For every step they took men fell, behind them blood and bodies, ahead the promise of yet more death.

The lines clashed in a brief but bloody battle, Phrynichos Gylippid taking firm control of the defence. On the 15 March 301BC the battle was won and the Eleuthernian army broke disappearing like smoke on a windy day. Records that survive from after the battle estimate the losses to be around 2500 for Ierpetra and 3300 for Eleutherna.

The victors were, however, unable to rest on their laurels for news reached them that Lyktos found itself under siege by the now regrouped army of Knossos, the same that had survived the battle in December 302BC. With no immediate threats the generals Leonidas and Phrynichos ordered a march to relive the small garrison of Lyktos. There followed instances of dissent, the army at this point comprised of citizens, thought the battle won and refused to take part in any further campaigning. Leonidas, previously a favourite of the men, reacted in a most vicious manner crucifying the more vocal of the objectors. It is wise noting that despite later complaints to the Basileus, there was no reprimand of Leonidas, the ruling elite seemingly in agreement with his actions.

In May 301BC the Knossians outside of Lyktos was slaughtered with the Ierapetran forces suffering minimal losses. It is at this point that that the fears of Basileus Alkimos were fully realised, looking out to sea beyond the coast of Lyctus a vast Phrygian navy was sighted;

‘Arius’ arrow fell well wide of the goat, offal of Hades did I call him but on seeing him confused looked to where he focused. The sun was high and a bright day it was yet a shadow fell across the blue sea as if from storm clouds. But no shadow was it, ships beyond number stacked the seas all flying the red and yellow of one-eye’
- Journal of a Ranging Soldier ​

Seeking total victory in the war the Ierapetran army was force marched south then through the lands of Gortyna before heading north and, in July 301BC, laying siege to Eleutherna. As their siege started a 15,000 strong Phrygian army landed on the beaches of Knossos and were immediately blooded when they engaged a mixed force of around 8,000 who were trying to win back the city. There was doubt as to the outcome, the experiences and efficient Phrygian army killed all of the opposition army and were then left in a quandary on discovering that their target of Knossos had fallen to the Ierapetrans.

The Phrygian army set up camp around Knossos and within weeks enlarged when a further 10,000 troops made landing. In total near 25,000 Phrygian troops were now present, larger than the combined armies of all the Cretan city-states.

A force of 7,500 detached from the main army and headed for Eleutherna, where the Ierapetran siege was nearing it’s final days. Upon making contact it was discovered that the commander of all the forces was none other than Antigonus Gonatas Antigonid, grandson of the Phrygian Basileus. It is to believed he was none to happy with the developments on Crete;

‘He was of one-eyes stock was that general, arrogant in step and cold in gaze. After speaking to the Bugler, a camp he set just outside of our pickets along with his men. Our backs prickled as if we were prey being watched from the shadows.”
- Unknown soldier’s journal​

On 7th August 301BC negotiations with Knossos concluded and with them the war was ended. Ierapetra incorporated Knossos into its burgeoning boundaries though Eleutherna was not included as part of the spoils. No quarter was given to the Knossian elite who were crucified en mass in the plains surrounding Knossos, harsh perhaps given the lack of Knossian aggression, but also understandable if done so as a message to Phyrigia.

To the Ierapetrans it no doubt felt a hollow victory, for as they retreated the Phrygian army surrounded the polis of Eleutherna and began a siege of their own.

Nearly a full year of war had won them more territory but seemingly had not prevented the gain of a new neighbour.

 

[PEnglish82]

IX) Three Big Fish in a Little Mare

05/12/301BC
City of Eleutherna, Phrygian Crete

“Every dirty building, in this polis reeks of fish.” Slurred Amphoteros Nikokrid, the new Phrygian governor in Crete. “The barbarians burnt fish oil for light.” He scoffed. “Civilisation.” He enunciated, looking at his guests and pointing at a nearby lamp. “In this case vegetable oil with a pinch of salt. For three months and still … FISH!” The last word spat with disgust.

Archon Seleukos of Gortyna cleared his throat nervously.

Amphoteros languidly blinked. “Accept my apologies for dishonoring your Cretan brothers and their fragrant lamps.” His head rolled in a loose nod as he raised his cup. “My nights are not restful, all hours does my wife wail, lamenting my new position. Were I in the favour of Antigonos perhaps I would be Asia or Bithynia, rested and rich.
“I thought we were invited to discuss the future of this island not your discomforts.” Asked Basileus Alkimos pointedly.

The governor whistled shrilly. “They said you were cold.” He laughed to himself. “A cold fish no?” He smirked giving a hint of teeth. “Don’t let your flame grow too bright, that is my advice. Antigonos the younger wanted you dead.” He leaned back. “For interfering in his war, for taking Knossos, for making him look stupid.”

“It was not m…” stammered Basileus Alkimos.

Grunting, Amphoteros lurched to his feet, “The desires of that wolf are outside of my knowledge and his ear is too high to hear your bleating. In truth he sated his anger on those he found within this polis.” He walked around the table, hand lightly tracing its edge in an effort to steady himself. As he reached Basileus Alkimos he halted, blinking his eyes into focus. “You are not to expand and there will be no more shipments of iron.” He gently slapped the Basileus’ cheek before tottering towards the door. “Now I retire, but please,” he spun around, “Basileus enjoy what delights remain uneaten.” He gestured towards Archon Seleukos, “You too man whose name I have not sought to remember.” With that he left.

“This cannot be tolerated” Hissed Archon Seleukos to Basileus Alkimos when they were alone. “What are we to do?”

“You defer to me?” Answered the Baslieus sarcastically, “For what? Phrygians that would not lay a sandal on Cretan soil?”

Archon Seleukos glanced furtively at the table, “The facts at the time were…”

“The facts were plain to see.” Snapped the Basileus.

“The gaze of Aidos steeps me in humility Basileus.” Responded Archos Seleukos softly, offering his hands in supplication. “They are a weed, seeding our soil and their roots number ten thousand by our count. What must we do?”

His brow furrowed as a scowl settled upon his face. “The fortress at Knossos was incomplete when they fell I shall see that it is finished. We have some iron remaining and will use it to reinforce my forces, half of which will be garrisoned there.”

“Good.” Replied the Archon with a relieved sigh.

Basileus Alkimos fixed his eyes intently on his counterpart. “I defend mine.” He smiled coldly, “If you find yourself in war we will provide no assistance.”

Terror gripped the Archon. “If they visit war upon us they will win.” His voice was shrill, “When they win they will occupy us and Tarrha, they will hold half the island.” He was all but hysterical, “Alliance, we must sign an alliance.”
Basileus Alkimos’ face was as stone.

“An alliance” His eyes were wide, lip a quiver. “Please.”

A sneer curled the Basileus’ lip. “An alliance was always my desire but Ierapetra would expect her lesser to beg for such an honor.” He smiled, “Which you have.”

 

[PEnglish82]

X) Plato’s Cave

02/11/298BC
Outskirts of Heraklion, Ierapetran Crete​

The winters in Crete were mild, in truth to even call them winters was an insult to those that raged in the northern boundaries of the known world.

The day found itself drawing to a close and the sun appearing as a low, fat ball of intense red was seemingly but half an hour away from plunging into the cool waters surrounding Crete.

The island was bathed in the warm, rich light of dusk, resplendent in deep terracottas and earthy oranges.

Oblivious to this natural beauty was Basileus Alkimos. Ruler of Ierapetra and the most powerful man on all of Crete. Sitting on a stone bench not far from his newly built Heraklion oikos, his attention was focused entirely on the opened scroll resting on his lap.

Above his head whipped and wheeled a number of small black shapes, bats likely, emitting occasional chirps and clicks.

Approaching from his rear was a man holding a wax tablet, a long black shadow stalking his advance like a pool of dark ink. Were he an assassin his technique would be flawless, sandalled feet hushed by the soft grasses and brush, shadow thrown away unsighted by the figure in situ.

Fortunate was it for the Basileus that it was no assassin but Neoptolemos Megalid the archigrammateus of Ierapetra.

“Basileus, do I find you at an opportune time?” Asked Neoptolemos softly, careful not to startle the Basileus.

He turned and glanced over his shoulder. “Are you aware of Plato’s cave?” He asked before turning back to his scroll.

“No Basileus, is it in Greece?”

“It is not a real cave.” Scoffed the Basileus then patted the empty space on the bench beside him. Neoptolemos accepted the invitation with a nod and shuffled around to sit. “If a man is chained in a cave, his eyes fixed ahead on a wall which is illuminated from behind by a fire, or the sun, he will see only the shadows of what passes behind.” He looked quizzically at Neoptolemos and seeing no understanding continued. “This man would interpret these shadows not as they are but as… shades, untruths.”

“Basileus I am no philosopher, caves are caves and shadows are shadows.” Shrugged the archigrammateus.

Basileus Alkimos frowned and looked away dismissively. “Foolish to think you would understand my realisation.”

Neoptolemos inclined his head. “Realisation Basileus?”

“The fire is now ahead of me, no longer behind.” He paused, “It is now my shadow that haunts the cave.” He scanned Neoptolemos’ eyes for a hint of acknowledgement but was met with a blank stare, he sniffed. “What trivial matter has drawn your dull wittedness?” He snapped as he hurriedly rolled up the scroll.

“There are a small number of decisions which need your approval. Minor matters that find themselves outside our authority.” He held the wax tablet in both hands and rolled his shoulders, allowing his chiton to settle in a more comfortable arrangement.

“And they are?” Replied the Basileus in a facetious tone.

“The fort in Knossos is complete and garrisoned. Epistrategos Antigonos has suggested we free a number of slaves, they would still be bound to us as metics and we would obligate them to establish a small camp around the forts vicinity.”

The Basileus’ brow furrowed. “To what end? How would that prove beneficial?”

“Antigonos would expect them to farm the land as they can, they would provide food for the soldiers. They could also be useful as a scouts at the Phrygian border, or the like.”

“Provided there are no impacts elsewhere I am in agreement.” He took the wax tablet and made his mark before passing it back. “Are there any concerns with the Phrygians?”

“No Basileus. They keep to themselves, Amphoteros Nikokrid still laments his appointment as governor. Damokrates sighted a missive to the mainland, Amphoteros’ petitions to be recalled go unheeded and he seems disillusioned with his countrymen.”

“Good.” Muttered the Basileus.

“The other matter is a petition from your archisomatophylax…”

“”Nikeratos and his temple I would guess?” Interjected the Basileus a pained expression on his face.

“Indeed, the attempt on your life in Lyctus is a weight on him still. Blood in the temple, his failure to prevent it. He petitions you to renovate the temple, have it cleansed and re-devoted. His fourth request I believe.”

“No doubt backed by Chabrias?”

“He is the hierophant Basileus.”

The Basileus let out a stifled laugh. “Now the Gods they are shadows.” He pointed to the setting sun, “If this World is our cave then the Gods must reside between us and the sun.” He swept his hand out as if caressing the horizon. “I see nothing.”

“It would be a small gesture to ease the pain of a trusted servant. There is gold to spare.” Neoptolemos offered the wax tablet tentatively. Following a moments hesitation the Basileus made his mark.

A shiver stole across Basileus Alkimos and he drew his chlamys tight around his shoulder. “Are there any more matters outside of your authority?”

The sigh that escaped Neoptolemos was one of resignation. “Your wife asks if she may send the Prince, he miss…” Basileus Alkimos silenced him with a wave.

Neoptolemos stood with a wince as as a joint popped. “My Basileus,” he said once upright. “There is a chill in the air, tarry not too long here. The lamps shall be lit, an extra pinch of salt should you wish to read into the morning.” He bowed as he stepped backwards then turned and slowly walked back to the oikos.

This time no shadow trailed him for the sun was all but extinguished.