An empty throne, p.32
An Empty Throne, page 32
Again and again Eumenes worked his blade, taking no pleasure in the killing and maiming but having a detached interest in the result of the process, as if he were looking down from above and his body was being controlled from afar. And he saw himself struggle forward, all the time swiping and stabbing at those around him whilst controlling his mount with his knees. Through the crush he moved, Parmida to one side and Hieronymus to the other, parting the enemy who had lost all cohesion in their pursuit of Peucestas. Time and again he killed as he felt the weight of man and beast behind him press him forward until there was nothing but brown dust ahead and he burst through the last rank. It took a few moments before what remained of the opposition turned from the hunters to the hunted as they fled. But Eumenes knew better than to fall into the very same trap as he had just set. ‘Halt!’ he cried. ‘Halt! Do not follow them up. We don’t know what is ahead. Halt!’
And his cries were heard and passed on, for his men drew up, their frontage bowing as the message travelled along it so they ended with the left and right wings ahead of the centre, but what had happened to his light cavalry on either flank he could not tell for they were lost in the dust.
Blind to all but the closest details, Eumenes struggled to understand the position he was in: he had routed the cavalry which had routed Peucestas, but that was all he knew for certain. What of the rest of Antigonos’ cavalry? Were they all in front of him, or had some managed to outflank him and, if so, where and when would they hit him? And what of the rest of Peucestas’ command, Xennias and Eudamos; were they still intact somewhere over to his right between him and the battle of the phalanxes? And how was that battle going? Had Antigenes and his men triumphed and were they even now rounding on the rest of Antigonos’ infantry as his, Eumenes’, Greek mercenaries came forward to crush the enemy between them and the Silver Shields and the Hypaspists? And was his extreme right command still refusing?
Not for the first time he cursed Antigonos’ cunning, but not without admiration for the ruse: it was one of the most ingenious he had ever witnessed. He turned to Parmida. ‘We need to probe over to our right. I can’t make any decisions until I know what’s happening with Antigenes’ command. Send some scouts ahead of us to act as our eyes and ears. I don’t want to blunder into Xennias or Eudamos and lose lads unnecessarily, for the sake of good scouting.’
Parmida made the arrangements, sending out men as the Kappadokians began to move forward at a trot towards the distant sound of battle.
Through the dust Eumenes took his cavalry, slow and painstaking so as not to trigger an attack by his own men; but the further he went the more it became obvious that Xennias and Eudamos’ cavalry were not there, for surely he would have run into them. And then he did run into them, or, rather, he ran into a few of them, for they came across the bodies of a dozen or so of Xennias’ men. But they had died not from proud wounds of battle to their front; no, they had all had their throats slit. Eumenes jumped from his saddle to look more closely; a couple of the bodies were lying on their bellies, so he turned one over and knew before he saw the face whose it was. ‘Xennias. Who did this to you?’ But the dead give no answers and Eumenes could not afford to waste time on the puzzle. He clambered back onto his horse and led his men off, now convinced there were none of his cavalry left on this wing other than those following behind him.
Nor did the scouts, when they returned, give him any reason to think differently; indeed, one had reached as far as the left flank of the Hypaspists and reported that they, and the Silver Shields next to them, had the enemy phalanx moving back at a speed at which its formation must surely rupture soon and Eumenes’ infantry would break through; meanwhile, the elephants were still getting the better of their opponents. I’ve no choice but to gamble, he decided as he weighed the news in his mind. I must assume Antigonos has somehow got behind me and is coming to take the Hypaspists and the Silver Shields in the rear to prevent them breaking his line. I must take my cavalry forward to prevent that.
As he turned to give the order, his left flank was shattered. Made up of lightly armed horse-archers mounted on the smaller ponies from the east, the Bactrian and Sogdian cavalry protecting the Kappadokians’ flank were no match for the heavy lancers under Demetrios’ command. And nor did they need to be, for they were far fleeter on their hardy little ponies, and at the first contact they turned and sped away across the Kappadokians’ frontage, leaving them exposed to a follow-up charge that smashed into their side, sending a shudder through the whole unit. As the Bactrians raced past, Eumenes tried to make out the damage to his men but the part in contact were lost in the shroud. Shouting orders to face the unseen enemy, he tried to turn those as yet untouched into line and take them forward. However, it soon became clear the unit was wavering and unwilling to respond to his commands as they began to pull away from the hidden fight.
‘We need to get out of here, sir!’ Parmida shouted as the first Kappadokian fugitives came into view, some bloodied and all without their weapons. ‘We need to regroup; we can’t fight like this.’
And he was right, Eumenes knew; to stay was to condemn his most faithful troops to certain obliteration and, with that in mind, for the first time in his career he gave the order to his Kappadokians to retreat.
Thus Eumenes led the majority of his men to safety – for Demetrios did not give chase as he had heard what had befallen his father – and the further they went the more the dust thinned until they came into open air once more to find the sun shining down on the umber blanket concealing a battle.
Eumenes looked around as Parmida rallied his men along with the Thracians and Thessalians – the horse-archers now too scattered to be effective any more – and his heart jumped, for way over to the west, and well out of the dust, was what could only have been Peucestas’ command and it was heading away from the fight, back towards the camp. I need to get Peucestas back, and with him, and my cavalry on my right, try to turn Antigonos’ weaker left wing. ‘Parmida, send a messenger to Peucestas ordering him back here immediately.’ He looked back south again and felt sick. It was not so much the sight of his retreating men heading back to the camp which caused the bile to rise in his throat, it was what was coming from that direction to face them: blocking their way was a strong force of cavalry, cavalry he did not recognise as his. He did manage to get a force around my flank though it wasn’t to take me in the rear but to take my camp. Antigonos played me at my own game. I’ve always hated baggage and now it could be the death of me. Unless I get it back, whatever the outcome of the battle, Antigonos has won. As that realisation dawned on him he turned away to look north to see the spectral figures of Antigonos’ cavalry emerging from the dust.
ANTIGONOS.
THE ONE-EYED.
WITH CAUTION NOW did Antigonos move through the cloud with his recently rallied Companion Cavalry, with caution for he did not wish a repeat of what had very nearly proved to be his last fight. It had been just by a hand’s breadth the javelins had missed him, all four of them in quick succession. How he had survived the surprise collision with the enemy just as he was pursuing Peucestas’ broken command, he did not know, but he was thankful he had for now he could feel the tide of the battle turning in his favour, despite what was happening to his phalanx. If the message he had received from his son, up ahead of him, was reliable – and he had no reason to think it was not – then there was no more of Eumenes’ cavalry left on this side of the field as the little Greek had taken his command over to his right with the presumed intention of attacking Peithon’s small command. But even so, Antigonos proceeded with caution until the dust began to thin.
It was as if a veil had been drawn from his eyes as, for the first time since he ordered the initial charge, he could now see more than twenty paces in all directions and what he saw was all to the good: Demetrios had formed up opposite Eumenes, preventing him from rejoining the main part of the battle, whilst the rest of the enemy cavalry, away to the south, now had the Medians and Tarantines before them, which meant he had taken Eumenes’ camp for sure. But if this was not enough for him, then the sight of Eumenes’ cavalry on his right wing leaving their position and coming across to join their commander in facing Demetrios made him whoop with joy. Peithon can get through! He turned to a messenger stationed behind him, and pointed to where he assumed Peithon’s position was beyond the dust. ‘Tell Peithon to bring his cavalry around as soon as possible and threaten the Silver Shields and Hypaspists’ rear.’ He looked deep into the eyes of the young man. ‘Make sure that is perfectly clear: threaten the rear but not attack it unless I give the order. They will most probably form square and move off. He’s to follow them until I come to speak to them. Understand?’
‘Threaten, not attack, unless you order it. He’s to follow them once they form square. Yes, sir.’
‘Good. Now be quick.’ Rubbing his hands together with more vigour than usual, Antigonos cast his eye over to where Peucestas, a thousand paces away, was now changing direction and heading west to avoid contact with the Median and Tarantine cavalry blocking his way back to the captured camp. With another whoop, he kicked his horse forward towards his son. ‘Peucestas has given up the fight,’ he said to Demetrios as he reached him. ‘Eumenes hasn’t a hope.’ He surveyed Eumenes’ position. ‘He’s stuck there and can only retire. We won’t lose any more of the lads by attacking him unnecessarily; we’ll only respond if he attacks us. My guess is he’ll withdraw to Peucestas, which is exactly where I want him.’
‘And what do we do in the meantime?’
Antigonos grinned. ‘I’m going to watch Peithon set in motion a trail of events that will end in my purchase of Eumenes and you are going to speak to Eumenes’ Greek mercenaries. Offer them their baggage and any back-pay owed them by Eumenes if they sign on with us. Oh, and get a message to our friend to sound out Teutamus; he will prove a useful ally in what is to come.’
As the breeze freshened and the fighting lessened, the dust dispersed to reveal a field strewn with dead, both man and beast, for many had fallen. The Silver Shields and the Hypaspists had between them killed over five thousand of their opponents, and such had been their superiority they’d received only flesh wounds in return, but now they were unsupported infantry out in the open and vulnerable to cavalry and surrounded by the bodies of their sons and grandsons. It was, therefore, no surprise to Antigonos when they formed square at the sight of Peithon’s command approaching from their rear, and he smiled to himself as they began to move south-west, heading to where Peucestas was now setting up camp next to a small river – if, indeed, it could be called a camp as they had nothing that would add to their comfort, it now being entirely in the enemy’s hands, including their women and children.
And so, as the sun began to dip over Peucestas’ camp and the Silver Shields and Hypaspists slowly made their way in square formation to link up with him, Antigonos watched Eumenes withdraw his cavalry and ride off. There’s only one place you can go, my little friend; and I can promise you it won’t be a safe haven. But then, I imagine you know that perfectly well by now. Again he rubbed his hands with vigour, his mood improving by the moment as he saw his victory would be as inevitable as it would be final. And so he followed Eumenes and surrounded his camp.
‘They’ve agreed, Father,’ Demetrios said as he returned from his mission. ‘All of the mercenaries, including the peltasts and light infantry. I’ve sent them back to our camp to wait for their possessions and have told them we will supply them with rations. They seemed very pleased with the outcome.’
‘And so they should be. They’re alive, they are now fighting for me and I am about to be victorious because, with their defection, I now outnumber Eumenes so there is no way he’ll be able to fight to get his baggage back. His men will just have to buy it off me. Let’s see just what they have to say on the subject. Send some of our lads into their camp and tell them what I propose: the baggage for Eumenes and all his satraps and generals. They can send a delegation to come and talk with me as soon as they like. I’ll be only too pleased to see them.’
If Antigonos was expecting a quick conclusion to the matter, he was disappointed for it was a full three days that the Eumenes’ men held out, discussing their options according to the deserters who came in most nights. But eventually at noon of the third day after the battle a delegation from the Silver Shields slipped into Antigonos’ camp. He saw them in private.
‘And how can we trust you that, firstly, our possessions and our women and children are still untouched and you’ll give them to us once we have done as you ask?’ It was a fair question the leader of the Silver Shields delegation asked and the grizzled, grey-bearded veterans behind him growled their approval.
‘I will take you, and your companions, to the camp personally, Aeropos,’ Antigonos replied, looking up at the old man standing before him, ‘and you can be the judge of the first part of your question. I have forbidden any looting so your possessions are intact, although I can’t guarantee your women are unsullied.’
‘No, we didn’t think so, but we don’t want them spending another night in the beds of our enemies.’
‘Friends, now, Aeropos, friends. As to the second part of your question: why would I go back on my word and lose the chance of having the greatest fighting unit in the world join my army?’ And this was true, Antigonos freely admitted to himself as he surveyed the faces, many of them older than himself, standing before him in the flicker of torchlight. Every one of the two dozen delegates had been under arms since their sixteenth birthdays – in some cases that was more than sixty years – so that they were so hardened in the ways of war none could stand against them. However, Antigonos also knew this knowledge had made them arrogant to the point of blindness and he fully intended to use that fault against them by flattering them into obscurity where they could never again be a danger to him. ‘It would be an honour for me to consider you as one of my supporters.’
Aeropos considered the statement for a few moments before turning to his mates. ‘Well, brothers, what do you think? Do we turn Eumenes over?’
‘And the others, mate,’ a mere stripling in his early sixties reminded him. ‘Besides, it’s his fault we lost our baggage.’ This statement received yet more growls. ‘But what about Antigenes? Now, he may be a cunt but he’s our cunt and he’s always been fair with us: share and share alike and none of us can deny it. Are we to hand him over? Peucestas, yes, I have no problem with that; it’s because of him that we are in this situation. Had he not retreated we would have won the day. We had won, remember, only to find ourselves without cavalry support because Peucestas had decided he’d had enough, the soft Persian-lover.’ He paused to spit on the floor, emphasising his point as his mates growled again in agreement. ‘And then, as if running away wasn’t enough, he refused to come back when Eumenes ordered him, having seen that our camp had been taken. Had he done so we could have regained it and wouldn’t be negotiating for our worldly goods at this moment, but, rather, minding the funeral pyres of our sons and grandsons who still lie out there untended.’ That point hit home with all his comrades, who nodded and growled deeper. ‘As for the other satraps, personally, I couldn’t give a fuck: give them over if we have to, and Teutamus, Hieronymus and any other generals Antigonos wants. But I say we keep Antigenes.’ This brought the deepest bout of growling of the meeting.
Aeropos turned back to Antigonos. ‘We agree to everything but Antigenes; he’s our general, and we keep him.’
Antigonos inclined his head a fraction. ‘And so you shall; of course you shall, I guarantee that. However, before you keep him, he must come to me to swear his allegiance. If he fails to do so then how can I trust him? But trust me, you will get him back. And if you don’t give me everything I want, how can I be expected to give you everything you want?’ He shrugged with upturned palms, regret on his face. ‘It’s all or nothing. Besides, I have a man here who will guarantee my word that you will get him back.’ He gestured to the darkened depths of the tent. ‘Won’t you, Teutamus?’
Teutamus, Antigenes’ deputy, emerged from the shadow. ‘He had made that promise to me, Aeropos. I trust him to keep it.’
The Silver Shields looked at their second-in-command in surprise. ‘What are you doing here, sir?’ Aeropos asked.
‘The same as you: looking after my interests. Eumenes has fed us so many false promises, leading us astray, it’s time to put an end to him and ensure we have a place with Antigonos. I’ve sworn loyalty to him, and once Antigenes does, he will be given back to us, Antigonos has promised that.’
‘I have,’ Antigonos reaffirmed.
Aeropos considered the matter and then turned to his mates. ‘Well, brothers, I don’t know what our comrades will think of betraying Antigenes; they won’t be happy about it, I’m sure. We should call the assembly and put the matter to them.’
Antigonos inclined his head. ‘You do that and I look forward to hearing the results of your deliberations.’
EUMENES.
THE SLY.
‘WE CAN STILL win through,’ Eumenes insisted again at the council of satraps and generals meeting beneath a rough substitute of Alexander’s throne – the original being with the baggage in the hands of the enemy. ‘Antigonos’ phalanx was smashed and we are now equal in cavalry and still have more elephants than he does. If we act now with a surprise night attack and retake our baggage then we can fall back to less dust-prone ground in a position of strength.’
‘No!’ Eudamos again replied. ‘That strategy has too many risks, and besides, our Greek mercenaries have all gone over to him almost to a man.’
