Theós Epiphanḗs – Anagénnēsē tōn Seleukidṓn

Introduction



I feel like it is worth noting the way certain things are going to be written in this timeline, as there will be a little bit of a learning curve in terms of anthroponyms, hydronyms, and toponyms, as well as certain pseudo-historical aspects that beg explanation. First and foremost, as far as naming is concerned, I will be writing names out as they were said at the time, to the best of my knowledge. The reason being of course, that, at least in my mind, to write them out the way that we would in English today, or any modern language for that matter, would be to do so in a language that will never be spoken in the timeline. Certainly, I have to write the timeline itself in English and not some conlang for it to be intelligible to you the readers, but this doesn’t mean that we can’t adopt a certain degree of “local color” in seeing the names as they were at the time, and as they will evolve as time goes on. This of course requires an enormous amount of research on my part that goes together with the research to detail the historical/geographical context of the events I will be positing, particularly when the names of individuals that belonged to ethnic groups that did not leave us extensive written records are being dealt with. This can involve a degree of conjecture on my part, given that the degree to which I or any other researcher can reconstruct the sounds of ancient languages is limited by the data that we have. So, while I have poured at least a week’s worth of research into compiling an etymological onomasticon of Archaic Irish names for example, my reconstructions, while the best effort I can give, are not necessarily precisely historical. Furthermore, it is important to note that in any language, names of people and places may come and go with time, and for those more sparsely attested languages, it is rather probable that a large inventory of names came and went entirely unattested, and so it is with a great deal of conjecture and artistic license that I have gone about constructing whole series of names for different languages.




Such conjecture and artistic license extends to certain languages of the period, which similarly came and went entirely unattested, or only sparsely attested. Such languages as Thracian, Dacian, Illyrian (itself probably a group of languages or a dialect continuum), Paeonian, Scytho-Sarmatian, Vistula Venetic, Venetic, Liburnian, Pre-Irish, Lusitanian, Celtiberian, Sicanian, Siculian, Elymian, Etruscan, Pisidian, Carian, Sidetic, Lycian, Mariandynian, Paphlagonian, Isaurian, Lycaonian, and Cappadocian, and a host of others, may require some con-langing on my part to reconstruct names of people and places for the period. Likewise, the development of certain well-attested languages of the period might be altered by the course of events within the timeline.



This conjecture and artistic license may also extend to certain persons whose names did not make it into the historical record, which may include soldiers, government officials, or even members of royal families. Finally, it may also extend to religious and cultural practices and matters of economy and finance. Certainly, I will be sticking to the historical record as best that I can, and I tend to pour over certain subjects for hours before writing a sentence about them. However, as I am sure many of you are aware, there are wide holes in the historical record that require filling for the purpose of writing alternate history.



So, without further a due, I will now jump into the abyss of your criticism…
 
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Hoi Sōtêres Tês Asíās Kaí Tês Hellā́dos



It could indeed be said that the winter of the year 149[1] (164-163) was a turbulent one for the Seleukídai dynasty. Having recently reduced Armenía the year before, Antíokhos IV Epiphanḗs had fallen terribly ill in the autumn and would remain so until the summer which had put the much-anticipated campaign against the Aršaka on hiatus. The celebration of the reconquest of Baktrianḗ by the king’s maternal cousin, Eukratídēs[2], almost seemed premature, and the stability of the state hung in the balance. While the treasury was indeed full, the army fully replenished and growing monthly with young male immigrants from Hellenistic Anatolḗ and Hellā́s herself, the Romans still held Hellā́s, and the nephew of the king, Demḗtrios, whose claim to the throne was not only legitimate, but doubtless believed the rumors that had been spoon-fed to him that his younger brother had been murdered by his uncle[3]. And yet, by the autumn of the following year, a grandiose military demonstration even more elaborate and luxurious than the one put on in Dáphnē just a few years before was held at Babylṓn[4] to celebrate the defeat of the Aršaka and the public execution of their king, Mihrdāt. The victory had been achieved by a pincer move against the Aršaka, overseen by Eukratídēs and Antíokhos jointly, the so-called ‘Saviors of Asia’, with the former closing in from the east and the latter from the west, which extended the lands of the Seleukídai from Kilikía to Alexándreia Eskhátē[5]. With the Aršaka reduced, Antíokhos again turned his attention westward, after his provincial governors in Koílē Syría had proved unable to quell what had begun as a guerilla revolt over taxation and had boiled over into a religious conflict between the Jews and their suzerains[6]. The region was of course important as a gateway to Aígyptos, where Antíokhos had had his eyes for some time.



Truly, if the Seleukídai were to maintain their unquestioned supremacy in Asíā, they were going to have to contend with the Romans again at some point, for while the latter pretended as though they had no interests in the east, their intent on increasing their influence in Aígyptos could not have been made more clear years earlier when Gaius Popillius Laenas had so arrogantly drawn a circle around Antíokhos. Naturally, such an insult had not been forgotten, and immediately following the suppression of the Jewish guerillas, Antíokhos entered Aígyptos with full force, and swiftly defeated his grand-nephews, Ptolemaíos VI Philomḗtōr and Ptolemaíos VIII Euergétēs, reducing their domains to Ptolemaḯs Hermaíou and the region of Kyrēnaïkḗ respectively, while their sister, Kleopátra II, was still to rule Alexándreia.



The Romans of course feared the very real possibility of a large-scale rebellion in Hellā́s, as those boys who had been on the cusp of manhood during the Third Makedonian War were now grown, and they might not be able to put down such a revolt and make good on their ultimatum to Antíokhos on Aígyptos successively. Furthermore, any invasion of Kilikía by way of the domains of Pérgamon might now see Pontian and Kappadokian resistance, as Antíokhos had allied himself with both monarchs by way of marriage, controversially taking the princess Nýssa of Póntos[7] as his wife, and marrying his widowed niece, Laodíkē V to Ariaráthēs V of Kappadokía[8]. Therefore, they sought to negotiate with the King of Asíā, who received them in Naukratis, though his much unexpected demands went far beyond what the Roman senate was willing to offer. The king’s price, was a two-thirds price hike on grain shipments to Rōma, the return of all political hostages from Hellā́s, Makedōnía (including the sons of King Perséus), the 150,000 Molossian slaves[9], and his nephew, Dēmḗtrios. In return, the Romans would be allowed to maintain their hegemony in Hellā́s and Illyrís, provided that the Makedonian monarchy be reinstated under Aléxandros VI. For each Molossian that could not be returned, the king demanded a talent of silver, with two-thirds of each talent to be paid to the Molossian people themselves, and a third to the King of Asíā – a royalty imposed for his generosity[10].



Certainly, such demands were far beyond the capacity of the Romans to accept, for reasons of honor as well as logistics. The 150,000 Molossians had been sold as slaves to various owners across Ītalia and Hispānia. Even if the Romans could find most of them, which was indeed feasible, they had not discriminated in age when they had enslaved them, and some of the elderly had died on the journey to Ītalia, while others still had been sent to work in mines and large agricultural estates, and had surely died. Thus, entertaining the notion that the Romans could muster 100,000 of them, they would still find themselves 50,000 talents in debt – an impossible fee. Surely, the king had only imposed such a demand in the first place to rally the people of Hellā́s against Rōma, a process which had already been started, as the king’s agents had been sent to Akhāḯā, Aitōlía, and the cities of Krḗtē. Likewise, the Third Makedonian War was a war that, from a Roman perspective, had been started by Makedonian aggression, and honor compelled them to maintain their position as the arbiters of justice in Hellā́s. When asked by his former friend, Popillius Laenas, what had provoked his sudden aggression toward Rōma given his capitulation to the demands of the senate years past, the king is said to have replied by paraphrasing a certain quote from Phílippos II, “I did not capitulate, but I retired, as rams do, in order that I could make a more vigorous attack the next time.”[11]



After the Roman emissaries had gone home, Antíokhos then marched through Kyrēnaïkḗ into the lands of the Inumiden[12], annexing the cities of the coast until he reached a city that was known to the Hellenes as Léptis, but to the locals as Labqi. From here, he sent an embassy to the governing body of Qart-Ḥadašt, the Zeqenim[13], promising them full independence and freedom from Roman oversight in return for their aid. The news of this trespass drew panic in the senate, and rather than cross the Hellḗspontos, the Romans turned their attention to the war in Libýē, which proved a fatal mistake, as a sizable portion of the fleet that set sail was sank in a storm. The Romans did not know of course of the alliance between their ancient rivals and the Seleukídai, but rather only knew that a large Seleukidian army was on its way across Libýē, and feared the worst. Certainly, they might have invaded Koílē Syría from Hellā́s and ravaged the cities of Makedonians there, but given that it was winter, such a voyage might not have been possible, and if they had held back, the King of Asíā would have had time to build a fleet in Libýē to cross into Sicilia the following year. The risk in crossing the sea to Libýē therefore, was one that they saw as worth taking, however disastrous it proved to be. Still, those troops that made it ashore numbered some 35,000, and together with the Inumiden under their king, Masensen, they stood 45,000. This was not an adequate match for the army of the Seleukídai however, which, together with new units from Baktrianḗ, Parthía, and Aígyptos, as well as mercenaries from Krḗtē, numbered 60,000. The battle, which was fought outside the city, was a crushing defeat for the Romans, though the King of Asíā, who was hailed as ‘God Manifest’ and “Savior of the Hellenes”, died shortly after negotiations had been concluded with the extant consul, Publius Cornelius Lentulus (Gnaeus Domitius Ahenobarbus having died of gangrene).



The Romans indeed drove a hard bargain, as they could feasibly win another war in Anatolḗ and Hellā́s, although certain terms seemed to be non-negotiable with Antíokhos. In particular, the return of political hostages (most importantly, his nephew) and a full Roman withdrawal from Makedōnía and Hellā́s, while others were more so. The return of the Molossians was something that Antíokhos was willing to compromise on, if the Romans agreed to repay the indemnity that the Seleukídai had paid them as per the Treaty of Apámeia. He further agreed to give a third of the money to the boy-king Aléxandros VI, and that future kings of Makedōnía would have to be mutually approved by the Seleukídai and the Roman senate. All Roman arbitration in Aígyptos would have to cease, as it would also between Qart-Ḥadašt and the Inumiden, and the towns of Wy’t[14], Taparura, Takapès[15], Gergis[16], Girba[17], and Labqi would be returned to the suzerainty of the government there.





Notes





  1. The time is being recorded according to the “Seleucid Era” or Anno Grecum used by the Seleucid Court, which uses the Babylonian calendar with substituted Macedonian names, but reckons the new year in autumn. The first year of this era corresponds to the autumn of 312 BCE, dating from Seleucus I’s re-conquest of Babylon after his exile in Egypt.
  2. William Woodthorpe Tarn makes a very strong case for Eucratides I having been not only a relative, but an agent of Antiochus IV in his book The Greeks in India.
  3. There is no direct evidence that the murder of Antiochus son of Seleucus IV was ordered by Antiochus IV, who was his regent. In this timeline, we are assuming that the boy was murdered by other agents within the Seleucid government.
  4. The case for Antiochus IV’s intent to make Babylon his capital is also made by William Woodthorpe Tarn in The Greeks in India, taking particular note of the numismatic evidence.
  5. Modern Khujand, Tajikistan, in the Fergana Valley.
  6. See Sylvie Honigman’s book Tales of Priests and Taxes and the article Re-Examining Hanukkah, by John Ma, in which the case is made that the unprecedented “religious persecution” that the Jews faced at the hands of Antiochus IV’s regime is explained in a Hellenistic context.
  7. Nyssa of Cappadocia, the sister of Mithridates V of Pontus, was married to Ariarathes V IOTL.
  8. Ariarathes V rebuked Laodice V IOTL her hand was offered by Demetrius I. By this time, the Seleucid Empire had lost most of its Iranian holdings, and had had a number of its ships sunk by the Romans after the brief reign of Antiochus V. Laodice was also several years older IOTL at this time. ITTL, she may be a widow, but a widow of proven fertility, whose royal blood will put Ariarathes V’s children with her in line for the Seleucid throne.
  9. Although we can never know where the majority of the Molossian slaves ended up, we will be positing for the sake of this timeline that the majority of them were bought by the recently landed gentry of Sicily and the Roman and Italian speculators buying up the ager publicum in the Italian Peninsula.
  10. 10 The demand was a bluff of on Antiochus’s part. He knew that Rome will not and cannot cough up the Molossians or pay the indemnity. But the demand is a gesture to the peoples of Greece to show them that he does not intend to rule them as an Oriental despot.
  11. Philip II of Macedon is said to have said after his defeat at the hands of Onomarchos in Thessaly, “I have not fled, but I have retired, as rams do, in order that I may make a more vigorous attack next time.” William Woodthorpe Tarn speculates that Antiochus IV did not leave Egypt after the Day at Eleusis because he was afraid that he could not hold it, but rather, that his plans to dismantle the principle threat to the Seleucid Empire – Parthia – might be put in jeopardy if he pursued his interests there at the time.
  12. Numidia.
  13. While we know that the Carthaginians had a governing body of elders from the upper classes, we don’t know what it was called, and so many scholars use the word “senate” to describe it, since Latin sources do so, and the Greek sources call it a gerousía. Seeing as Punic was a dialect of Phoenician, and Phoenician and Hebrew were mutually intelligible dialects of the same language, I am positing that the Carthaginians might have used a similar term to describe this body – zeqenim, which means “elders” in Hebrew today.
  14. Known in Latin as Oea, modern Tripoli, Libya.
  15. Known in Latin as Tacapae, modern Gabès, Tunisia.
  16. Modern Zarzis, Libya.
  17. Modern Djerba, Tunisia.
 
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@wadebirdwhistle, I like your writing style, and I have a particular love for Diadochi-TLs, even more as it is one set in a fairly "later" period, post-Punic Wars (the TL's I've seen usually start before the actual rise of Rome, soon after Alexander's death).

Sorry if I missed it in the footnotes, but I suppose the "Aršaka" refers to the Parthian Arsacids, right (and not to the Arsacid dynasty of Armenia, but perhaps I'm messing the dates). This means that the Parthian ascension that broke the Seleucids' back is preempted for good?
 
@wadebirdwhistle, I like your writing style, and I have a particular love for Diadochi-TLs, even more as it is one set in a fairly "later" period, post-Punic Wars (the TL's I've seen usually start before the actual rise of Rome, soon after Alexander's death).

Sorry if I missed it in the footnotes, but I suppose the "Aršaka" refers to the Parthian Arsacids, right (and not to the Arsacid dynasty of Armenia, but perhaps I'm messing the dates). This means that the Parthian ascension that broke the Seleucids' back is preempted for good?


Yes it does and yes they are. Lol. Tarn makes a very good argument that the festivities in Daphne were a celebration of Eucratides’ re-conquest of Bactria, Arachosia, and the Hindu Kush, and that Mithridates I didn’t move until after Antiochus IV was dead... suggesting that he was afraid to do so. ITTL, there will be no Arsacid Empire. Whatever becomes of the Iranian Plateau, the Parthians will have very little to do with it ;)
 
Rome must focus on Europe at this stage for both farmland and colonies, so Britain and Germany a great deal of attention. This is also beneficial in that they won't be spending an enormous resource to defend their enormous OTL borders and their restive populations.
 
oooooooooooooooh yes.

Eagerly looking forward to the continued rule of the Seleukids! My real interest is in Baktria, though, because I’ve been looking into the Greco-Baktrian and Indo-Greek Kingdoms recently.

Do you plan on keeping the Greeks in control in Baktria? The Kushan/Yuezhi migrations are coming up in less than a century—historically they booted out Greek rule in the area. I’m not sure how the Seleukids can stop a nomadic migration, though.
 
oooooooooooooooh yes.

Eagerly looking forward to the continued rule of the Seleukids! My real interest is in Baktria, though, because I’ve been looking into the Greco-Baktrian and Indo-Greek Kingdoms recently.

Do you plan on keeping the Greeks in control in Baktria? The Kushan/Yuezhi migrations are coming up in less than a century—historically they booted out Greek rule in the area. I’m not sure how the Seleukids can stop a nomadic migration, though.


Given that we are going with Tarn’s hypothesis that Eucratides was a relative/agent of Antiochus, yes. At least for the time being.


As far as the Yuezhi are concerned, I believe part of the reason that they migrated into Bactria to begin with is because the region had been destabilized and was a much easier target than ITTL. The Saka came first, and may or may not have been invited by the Euthydemids to combat the rebellion that Eucratides had raised. After Antiochus was dead, Iran became a war zone as the Parthians expanded, and Eucratides was cut off from any support he would have got had the supposed pincer tactic to squeeze the Parthians worked. The momentum that he had gained was lost, which further destabilized Bactria and Arachosia, and after the Saka invaded... there was a lot up for grabs.


ITTL, at least right now (and we are still in the 160s, mind you), the Seleucid Empire is stable, from the Hindu Kush to the Mediterranean. Both the Saka and the Yuezhi might decide to just keep riding west... or maybe not... we’ll have to see.
 

Skallagrim

Banned
This is a very solid premise, and I'll be sure to follow this TL with avid interest. The "local colour" approach may not be for everyone, but it's certainly one that I prefer. Very immersive.

Considering the subject, let me just bring this TL to the attention of @Rex Romae - who just yesterday expressed disappointment about the fate of the Seleukids in my TL. This would appear to be the antidote to my pessimistic take on the subject, my friend! :cool:
 
Given that we are going with Tarn’s hypothesis that Eucratides was a relative/agent of Antiochus, yes. At least for the time being.


As far as the Yuezhi are concerned, I believe part of the reason that they migrated into Bactria to begin with is because the region had been destabilized and was a much easier target than ITTL. The Saka came first, and may or may not have been invited by the Euthydemids to combat the rebellion that Eucratides had raised. After Antiochus was dead, Iran became a war zone as the Parthians expanded, and Eucratides was cut off from any support he would have got had the supposed pincer tactic to squeeze the Parthians worked. The momentum that he had gained was lost, which further destabilized Bactria and Arachosia, and after the Saka invaded... there was a lot up for grabs.


ITTL, at least right now (and we are still in the 160s, mind you), the Seleucid Empire is stable, from the Hindu Kush to the Mediterranean. Both the Saka and the Yuezhi might decide to just keep riding west... or maybe not... we’ll have to see.

Nice! I get the gist of the situation: the Seleukids staying strong and stable keeps the Greek East stable as well, especially now that the Arsacids are finished.

It sounds like Baktria is safe for a few generations at least—the tricky thing is that it’s a natural migration area for nomads, since OTL just saw it get invaded over and over and over again for millennia. Odds are eventually someone else will conquer it, but maybe ITTL the Greeks will persist long enough to have a more permanent cultural impact. I mean, the Sakas are long gone, but Sistan in Iran still bears their name.

The religious implications are gigantic too. The Kushan Empire was massively important in spreading Buddhism to East Asia; would Baktria do the same? Alternatively, with the Seleukids keeping the communications open will Eastern faiths and ideas spread West?
 
This is a very solid premise, and I'll be sure to follow this TL with avid interest. The "local colour" approach may not be for everyone, but it's certainly one that I prefer. Very immersive.

Considering the subject, let me just bring this TL to the attention of @Rex Romae - who just yesterday expressed disappointment about the fate of the Seleukids in my TL. This would appear to be the antidote to my pessimistic take on the subject, my friend! :cool:


Thank you sir ;)


Although, I figured out that I may want to change some things around with which Laodice marries whom. Today, I am putting together a family tree of the dynasty so that I can keep the characters straight, which I am having a hard time doing, given the repetitive naming of Seleucid dynasts :p


Nice! I get the gist of the situation: the Seleukids staying strong and stable keeps the Greek East stable as well, especially now that the Arsacids are finished.

It sounds like Baktria is safe for a few generations at least—the tricky thing is that it’s a natural migration area for nomads, since OTL just saw it get invaded over and over and over again for millennia. Odds are eventually someone else will conquer it, but maybe ITTL the Greeks will persist long enough to have a more permanent cultural impact. I mean, the Sakas are long gone, but Sistan in Iran still bears their name.

The religious implications are gigantic too. The Kushan Empire was massively important in spreading Buddhism to East Asia; would Baktria do the same? Alternatively, with the Seleukids keeping the communications open will Eastern faiths and ideas spread West?


We’ll have to see about Buddhism. It is just as possible that popular Western faiths might go east as well. Eventually of course, the Seleucids will lose control of Bactria, and everything really, since nothing is forever. But, we may indeed see some more lasting impact of Greek culture in Centralized Asia.
 
I do apologize for the time it took in getting this update to you all. The plan from here on out is to have an update ready by every Saturday or Sunday. So, without further a due...





Ho Agṓn Diá Tḗn Syría



Antíokhos IV Epiphanḗs Sōtḗr died at the end of the winter of 151 (162-161) of consumption of the lungs in Aígyptos, which had plagued him a couple of years before in Asíā before his campaign against Parthía, though not without leaving a will. As his son, Antíokhos V was only 11 when his father died in Aígyptos, the regency would be left to Eukratídēs, while the latter’s son, Hḗlioklēs, would govern over the eastern territories, just as Eukratídēs had done briefly under his maternal cousin, Antíokhos IV, while the king’s young nephew, Dēmḗtrios, was to be made the stratēgós of Kilikía. However, further complicating the matter of the king’s death was the death of his son that followed by the summer, along with the death of his mother, who both succumbed to the same illness, which left the only surviving heirs to the throne by his line his daughter, Laodíkē VI, though he had sired twins by the lady Nýssa, who were both girls – Bereníkē and Kleopátra. This meant that the throne would pass to Dēmḗtrios I, who was crowned in Babylṓn that spring, and who took the lady Nýssa as his wife. Obviously, these developments represented a serious problem for the state, as the Romans immediately denied the terms of the Treaty of Léptis, and refused to abandon Makedōnía, citing that their treaty had been with Antíokhos, not Dēmḗtrios[1]. Thus, before any festivities could be held to celebrate the great victory that his predecessor had won, the country was already facing a large-scale conflict with the Romans over hegemony in the Mesógeios[2].



The geography of the impending conflict made it particularly difficult logistically. Both sides were threatened on two fronts. A withdrawal from Aígyptos would surely result in rebellion and further destabilization of the region, while also leaving Qart-Ḥadašt to the Inumiden and the Romans, should either, or perhaps both decide to invade. In the north, matters were no less clear, as Pérgamon could invade Seleukidian lands through the Kilikian Gates, and a naval defeat could see them invading Syría. Of course, it had been clear to everyone (though he had shared his plans only with his closest advisors) that Antíokhos had married Nýssa of Póntos with the intent of securing the loyalty of her uncle, King Mithridátēs IV, but the loyalty of the young Ariaráthēs V of Kappadokía was in question. Firstly, he was indeed the brother-in-law of Euménēs II of Pérgamon, although this relationship was a strained one, as the King of Pérgamon’s marriage to Ariaráthēs’ sister had been strictly political, and his children, including his son Áttalos, were all bastards. However, Ariaráthēs’ marriage to Laodíkē V was not as binding as a marriage to a ripe young princess, firstly because she had already been married and had children of her own, but secondly because she was a niece of a now deceased king, and finally because the king with whom he had made his pact was… deceased. As the Romans might very well offer him control of Kilikía in return for his aid, Dēmḗtrios, who himself was politically isolated and inexperienced [3], was going to have to make a better offer or make another friend. A more profitable relationship, was with the King of Bithynía, whom he had known in Rōma on the former’s travels there.



In Rōma, the word had been that Prousías had a son, Nikomḗdēs II, who was still without a wife. Though this son was not as loved by his father as his sons by his second wife, Kiršula of Ziela, he was the eldest and the most beloved by the people. Therefore, Dēmḗtrios sought to make an ally of the Bithynai by offering the hand of his cousin, the Princess Laodíkē in marriage to their eldest prince. The benefits in doing such were three-fold – it would make a friend of the young prince who might otherwise be used by the Romans if Laodíkē’s hand were offered to one of his younger half-brothers, it would secure political relations with his father, and it would also open relations with the Odrýsai, whose prince, Diégulas had married Nikomḗdēs’ sister, the princess Apáma. Thus, whatever offer the Romans might have extended to Ariaráthēs, he might have found himself even more politically isolated than Dēmḗtrios was at his own court if he would not come to some sort of understanding. Dēmḗtrios’ proposal therefore, was thus…



Pérgamon as an independent entity was to be destroyed. The city would be raised, and its population sent to the east, perhaps to settle the valley of the Iaxártēs[4], or perhaps even further. The domains of Pérgamon and her ally, Galatía would be divided among the Anatolian kingdoms, with the Kingdom of Póntos receiving the northern portion Galatía (including the ancient cities of Ánkyra and Górdion) and Eastern Phrygía up to the Sangários[5], following the hills to the southwest down to Lake Philomélion[6], and cutting across the plains to Lake Tatta[7], going along its western shores until the Halys River[8]. The Kingdom of Kappadokía would receive the regions of Isauría and Lykaonía (including the cities of Ikónion, Lýstra, Láranda, and Dérbē), while the Kingdom of Bithynía would receive Troás[9]. The Seleukídai would subsequently take control of the southern and western coasts, including Pisidía (up to Laodíkeia Katakekauménē), Pamphylía, Lykía, Karía, Western Phrygía, Ioníē, and Mysía. Whichever party had qualms with the partition plan could take it up in arms with the parties that didn’t, and while Ariaráthēs was not entirely satisfied with his portion, he conceded when his agents informed him of the marriage proposal to Prince Nikomḗdēs II of Bithynía – whatever his designs might have been, if he had sided with the Romans, he would still have been surrounded by enemies.



The plan was genius. Every monarch in Anatolḗ (with the notable exception of the kings of Pérgamon) stood to gain, and though Dēmḗtrios I has been widely credited with it, it was put together primarily by Eukratídēs, Lysías, and Queen Nýssa, the latter of whom knew the monarchs of Anatolḗ personally and collaborated with her uncle, the King of Póntos, who stood to gain tremendously from it. It definitely had its shortcomings, as such territorial expansions for the kingdoms of Póntos and Bithynía served to make them potential threats to future Seleukidian kings, but the primary focus of foreign policy at the moment, was removing the Romans from the Eastern Mesógeios, at least for Dēmḗtrios. He had, after all, spent much of his life in Ītalia, and he knew all too well not only the power of her army but the acumen of her generals and politicians, and their expansionist intent. The Orient was rich, and he knew his history – the Romans always started out as the arbiters of justice, and bit by bit, they would intervene in the affairs of others before they became your rulers in everything but name. It was clever, and many a city, town, kingdom or league had fallen for it… he would not. Of course, the plan put the Romans and the Pergamenes in a particularly difficult position as well, as the Romans could not hope to dissuade Prousías II of Bithynía with the same offer, as Troás was already under the control of the Pergamenes, and the Pergamenes could not join the confederation, because the partition was of land that belonged to them and the Galátai. The dice had officially been cast. If the Pergamenes lost, it was the end of their kingdom. The ruling dynasty, the Attalídai, might be slaughtered, or disgraced, perhaps paraded before a crowd in Dáphnē or Babylṓn as the Antigonídai had been in Rōma and held as political hostages until their deaths, while the people of the city might be slaughtered, enslaved, or exiled, or some combination of the three. If the Romans lost, their honor was not the only thing at stake, as Hellenistic powers had attempted invasions of Ītalia in the past with varying degrees of success, but Ḥanni-Bá’al Barqa had not only done so, but come dangerously close to subjugating the Romans entirely. Surely, they were not so much worried in the short term about the renaissance of Qart-Ḥadašt as they were about the internal cost of further indemnities, as the terms of the Treaty of Léptis were sure to change if the war was lost[10].



By late summer, the alliance between the Anatolian kingdoms had been formalized, with festivities for the wedding of Prince Nikomḗdēs II and Princess Laodíkē being held in Dáphnē “with all the befitting pomp of such an event”, and a military procession celebrating the victories in Aígyptos and Kyrēnaïkḗ by the new king’s predecessor was held in Babylṓn. As one might expect, the political fallout was significant. Although the Romans had refused to pay back the indemnity, they had already gone about returning certain political hostages before news of the death of the Lord of Asíā had reached them. Such valuable assets as Polýbios, the son of Lykórtas, who had intimate knowledge of the workings of Roman politics and the Roman military, had already been released. Certain others, like the boy Aléxandros, the Prince of Makedōnía, had not. Furthermore, their ability to face the new alliance of Anatolian states was indeed questionable. The army at Dēmḗtrios’ disposal for campaigning against them was enormous – perhaps more than 80,000 when levies east of the Euphrátēs were taken into account – which of course did not include the combined armies of Bithynía, Kappadokía, and Póntos, all of whom were eager for their bite of Pergamene-controlled lands. The best that they could hope for was some kind of a stalemate, one that possibly preserved the independence of their ally, the city of Pérgamon, although that seemed like a tall order given the context, especially if the Rhodians decided that it might be prudent to strike a deal with the Hellenistic kingdoms.



Seeking to control the damage, the Senate sent embassies to the various cities of Hellā́s, only to find that pro-Seleukídai propaganda spread by agents of Antíokhos had been taking its toll, as had of course been reported by their garrisons there. Particularly potent in swaying opinion in his own favor had been the demand of the return of political hostages, a gesture intended mostly for the cities of the Akhaian League, which had been forced to give valuable political hostages to Rōma for “disloyalty”, despite having offered their entire force to the Romans in the Third Makedonian War. The Lord of Asíā had made an impression on the people, and though the recently returned Polýbios – now recently elected stratēgós – urged prudence, the people were not feeling so much so, and Kallikrátēs and his pro-Roman party lost any and all political sway. Anti-Roman parties were also gaining traction in Petthalía[10], Akarnanía, and Aitōlía, and the more the garrisons punished the demonstrations (in Petthalía, mostly), the more popular they became. The Romans had adopted a policy of “liberating the Héllēnes” when they had invaded a decade earlier during the Third Makedonian War, but the difference between theirs and Makedonian hegemony were proving to be minute, if not non-existent.



Thus, fighting a war on Hellenic soil would only prove the anti-Roman parties correct, that the Romans were no more interested in preserving the liberty of the Héllēnes than the Makedṓnes had been, and so another field was going to have to be found. Certainly, the Romans had won a decisive victory two decades earlier at Magnesía-toû-Sipýlou[11], but their ability to reach the Hellḗspontos would be curtailed by the Odrysai and the Bithynai, who would have to be defeated and subjugated for them to be allowed to pass. An enticing idea, and one considered by the Senate and the consuls, and one that many a historian would look back and wonder why the Romans didn’t proceed with. The Odrysai and Bithynai would have made easier foes, and with their power unquestioned in the Arkhipélagos[12]with the support of the Rhodian and Pergamene fleets, the Seleukídai would have been powerless to enforce their agenda in Makedōnía at least. However, securing Makedōnía did nothing for Pérgamon, who was the most threatened by the alliance in Anatolḗ, and so the Romans would have to cross the Hellḗspontos, which doubtless meant that the Romans would have to fight the combined armies of Kappadokía and Póntos, and the Seleukídai.



What the Romans lacked ultimately, was information. For example, the Galátai were not entirely that popular a group in central Anatolḗ, and neither were the kings that gave them land grants. The Phrýges and the Śfardẽt[13] hated them, even still, a century after they had made their incursion into the region, as many of them had continued to be displaced by them. The various tribes of Lykaonía and Isauría felt similarly, as did the Paíones of the Taûros Mountains, who regularly controlled the road to Kilikía from Pisidía[14]. Perhaps these people could not add significantly to the Roman/Pergamene force as to be able to overpower their enemies, but the intelligence that they might have provided as to the workings of the country in which they might have fought could indeed have proven to have been enough to swing things in their favor. And yet, Anatolḗ, despite being the site of a decisive victory two decades earlier, would ultimately not be their field of choice.



No, the Romans instead thought to strike the Seleukídai at the very center of their power – Syría. Certainly, the capital of the empire was at Babylṓn, but the epicenter of Hellenistic settlement and the nobility itself was here and in Kilikía. Recently, Antíokhos had been successful in violently putting down a Jewish revolt centered around the city of Yerušalaim and its temple… a cosmetic monstrosity in the eyes of the Romans (at least from the reports that they had heard), but nonetheless useful. While there was nothing particularly unusual in terms of domestic policy with what had happened there in terms of the people having lost their autonomy and control of their shrine following a tax revolt, rousing another rebellion in the region against the “oppressive” rule of the Seleukídai would allow the Romans to move the theatre of their conflict to Syría, and therefore away from the kings in Anatolḗ where they might also receive help from supporters of the Lagídai[15]. However, Dēmḗtrios had anticipated such a measure early on (at least in terms of the sovereignty of Aígyptos), and therefore had already met with his cousin Ptolemaîos VI Philomḗtōr, whom he had known in Ītalia, restoring his rule of the whole of Aígyptos and Kyrēnaïkḗ (though not the island of Kýpros) if political relations with the Romans were severed entirely. This of course, left no room for Ptolemaîos VIII Euergétēs…



Dēmḗtrios had not anticipated the use of the Jews, and though the Jewish population in Rōma was negligible at the time, it nonetheless supplied the Roman military apparatus with the intelligence it needed to send secret envoys to the descendants of the House of Dāwīḏ in the Mesopotamian city of Nəhardəʿā[16], whom it promised a client state for Jewish support against the Seleukídai. Truly, Dēmḗtrios had not anticipated the measure because it seemed so ridiculous, as his uncle had already destroyed the Jewish rebellion and executed its ringleaders before his death. And yet, animosity toward the Seleukídai was widespread among the Jews of Aígyptos, particularly for the murder of the man they considered to be the rightful high priest, Honiyā́hû IV, and his sons, which Antíokhos had seen to so as to make sure that internal squabbling over the high priesthood would come to an end. It was therefore Ptolemaîos VI’s brother, the disgruntled king Ptolemaîos VIII Euergétēs of Kyrēnaïkḗ, who would collaborate with the Romans, training a primarily Jewish army over the course of the summer in the desert, which would be supplemented by Igerramen[17] mercenaries. This force, which was composed primarily of light desert shock troops that were trained to move quickly across terrain that was otherwise difficult to maneuver through for larger, more heavily equipped armies, would be sent into the region of Ioudaía not only to rouse another rebellion, but to create enough trouble in the region so as to cause Dēmḗtrios to send an army south. Surely, their fleet, the existence of which was in violation of the Treaty of Apámeia, could not contend with the combined Rhodian, Roman, and Pergamene fleets, even if bolstered in its numbers by the fleet of Ptolemaîos VI. Therefore, the plan was to draw the Seleukídai away from their allies in the north into Syría, and also to create a wedge between Ptolemaîos VI and Dēmḗtrios. In turn, the Romans would invade Syría by way of Trípolis, from whence they would move to take Dáphnē[18] while Dēmḗtrios scrambled to respond.



By late spring of 152 (160), the Prince Aléxandros of Makedōnía had not been returned, and the Roman’ plan had been put into full swing, with the Libyan Jews having invaded by way of the Néḡeḇ[19] and sacked the city of Ġāzā, in so doing having completely circumvented the Seleukidian force encamped at Pēloúsion. Of course, during the initial stages of the invasion of Ioudaía, whether or not the occupiers of Ġāzā represented a fresh group of recruits from old elements of the revolt in the countryside or an invading force wasn’t clear. Reports of their behavior, which included the defacing of Hellenistic shrines and the forced circumcisions of boys and men certainly made them sound Jewish, although the same reports said that they conversed with each other in Hellenic. Certainly, the original rebels were known to speak Hebrew amongst each other almost exclusively, and so the use of Hellenic suggested, at least to local government officials, that this army was not local, but from where was confusing. Suspecting the Jews in Aígyptos, a crackdown on the Jews along the Neîlos[20] was begun by the recently reinstated Ptolemaîos VI, which served to create some degree of animosity among the general population toward his rule – the Jews having been quite numerous and well established in his kingdom. Jewish sages were arrested en-masse, as were a number of people known to be affiliated with the former high priest, Honiyā́hû IV. This did not solve the problem of the rogue Jewish force in the region however, and so a Seleukidian army of some 25,000 infantry and cavalry deployed from the province of Apámēnē to deal with the problem, together with a considerably smaller force (some 5,000) from Alexándreia and Ptolemaḯs Hermaíou and some 2,000 camel riders from the Kingdom of Medewi[21].



The Romans had hoped that the Seleukídai would attempt to transport their troops by sea, hoping to destroy their fleet between Syría and Ioudaía. However, the Seleukídai moved their troops by land, and the Romans had hastily set their plan into motion by deploying their separate armadas. The first was commanded by the consul Publius Mucius Scaevola and one of the two Rhodian stratēgoí, Kerkýōn. This fleet was intercepted by the Seleukidian fleet at the Battle of Páphos on the southwestern coast of Kýpros, which was a narrow victory for the Seleukídai on account of the Rhodians having largely not participated in the battle and retreated when a relatively small fleet from Qart-Ḥadašt had unexpectedly arrived on the scene to aid their Hellenistic allies. The second armada, was primarily for transport, and carried the bulk of the Roman ground troops under Tiberius Sempronius Gracchus Maior, which had sailed north of Kýpros and was bound for Syría, where they landed just north of Trípolis[22], which was in Roman hands within a week, though the people of the city put up a “spirited and vigorous defense in the name of their king”. The defeat and capture of the other Roman consul only emboldened the Romans that had made ground in Syría, and from Trípolis, Gracchus moved north along to the coast to Antárados[23] and then to Laodíkeia-ḗ-Páralos[24], which were inadequately defended to face such a large force. After pillaging the coastline, they moved inland by way of the Bargýlos Mountains for the city of Kádēs[25], where they defeated a smaller yet still substantially sized Seleukidian army led by one Makhátas at a town called Parádeisos. The intent was to march along the mountains through the province of Apámēnē to Dáphnē, one of the single most important cities of the Seleukídai that held a popular Pan-Hellenic shrine to Apóllōn and had been the functional administrative center of the dynasty for some time (although the king’s court had been meeting at Babylṓn for nearly a decade).



Dēmḗtrios had to respond quickly. Truly, his expectation had been to fight the Romans in Anatolḗ, and his allies in the region were eager to divide their shares of the domains of the Kingdom of Pérgamon and the state of Galatía. Moving against the Romans in Syría could leave Kilikía open to invasion through the Kilikian Gates if the Pergamenes were not distracted however, and so he gave the word for his allies to move against them. However, the kings of Bithynía and Póntos did not coordinate their movements with one another, and so the Bithynai moved on Troás, winning an important naval battle with the help of the Byzantines at Aphousía, that allowed both parties to move beyond the Sea of Propontís and for the latter to seize control of the towns of eastern Thrakikḗ Khersónēsos[26], though they were unable to claim Alōpekónnēsos and Kardía, and the Bithynai suffered defeat at the Battle of Adramýtteion, which temporarily halted their operations in Troás for the remainder of the summer while the city of Dárdanos was still under siege. More success was had in Phrygía, where Mithridátēs IV won a series of victories against the combined forces of the Pergamenes and the Galátai, the former of whom were late comers to the Galatian theatre and therefore were not able to stop the Pontoi from taking control of the whole eastern portion of the country up to the River Halys, a measure that was only temporary, pending the Battle of Lake Tatta, which was fought between Ariaráthēs V of Kappadokía and Áttalos II. The battle was not as much a defeat for the Pergamenes as it was a realization that further hostilities could be thwarted if they could convince the invading parties to make peace with their shares of Galatía. All three parties agreed to an armistice for the remainder of the year, while the true outcome of the war was to be decided in Syría…



Matters were further complicated in the autumn with the death of Ptolemaîos VI, who, like his uncle, his aunt, and his cousin, died of consumption of the lungs, having contracted the disease from his dying uncle when he was in his death throws. This left the 26-year-old Kleopátra II, the sole supporter of Dēmḗtrios in Aígyptos, who extended a proposal of marriage to him so as to avoid the hand of her hated younger brother, whom many in Aígyptos doubtless expected her to marry… as did the Romans, who were keen on arranging such a marriage after the Seleukídai had been brought to heel. However, the city Apámeia-ḗ-Oróntou[27] would not yield despite repeated assault, and was able to hold out until Eukratídēs and Lysías, arrived with a portion of the main army at Dáphnē, from whence they proceeded to levy every able-bodied young man and veteran in the countryside to fight the Romans, who quickly found themselves cut off from their coastal supply lines by the nomadic tribes of the region, who seized the mountain passes, declaring for the Seleukídai. At the same time, the Seleukidian/Lagidian army that had only recently been deployed to Ioudaía, and had only met its opponents in brief skirmishes, turned north to meet the Romans… who had expected to have occupied Dáphnē by now. Furthermore, the fleets of the Seleukídai and Qart-Ḥadašt sailed for Syría, only to be intercepted and defeated by the Pergamenes off the coast at the Battle of Gabala[28], which, putting the Eastern Mesógeios securely in the hands of Rōma and her allies, was so devastating to the Pergamene and Roman fleets (the latter of which was docked and whose boats were largely unmanned) that it might as well have been a defeat. Still, the Romans had secured the Syrian coastline, and what was left of the Pergamene fleet now controlled the sea between Kilikía and Syría, meaning that the outcome of the conflict had to be decided by land.



Heracleídēs of Mílētos and one Aléxandros of Smýrnē were marching through Koílē Syría[27], while Eukratídēs and Lysías were in Béroia[29]. Gracchus’ army was approximately 60,000, while the two armies marching against him when combined might have been as many 75,000 with the new levies, albeit a significant portion of the new levies had no experience in battle. Still, in his speech to his men, Gracchus compared the situation to the Anábasis[30], when ten thousand Hellenic mercenaries had found themselves in the middle of the Persian Empire after the defeat Kūruš the Younger who had employed them, and fought their way back to the Áxeinos Sea[31]. He then reminded them that their situation was not nearly as dire, as they had only the mountains between them and the coast, and that they were Romans, and though they were likely to be outnumbered by the armies of the Seleukídai, that this was not the first test of the fighting prowess of an outnumbered Roman army against a Hellenic one, citing the Battle of Magnēsía. The army therefore, withdrew its siege of Apámeia and made for the town of Seleukópolis, near Mount Bēlos[32], where the town was surrendered without a fight. The Romans then fortified their position, closing the pass and preventing the Seleukídai from forcing them into the open plain, where they would have the advantage of their phalanx. However, the Seleukídai could be said to have learned a thing or two since the Battle of Magnēsía, beginning with Antíokhos IV and his training of Roman-style infantry. Furthermore, Euktratídēs had not used phalanx units in the majority of his battles against the Euthydēmídai in Baktrianḗ, and had in fact fought a number of battles in the mountainous terrain of the Paropamisádai[33], and therefore was no stranger to the circumstances. The ensuing Siege of Mount Bēlos would last some 100 days, and involved a number of efforts at scaling the walls and a few efforts at mining beneath them, but was finally won when Eukratídēs marched a portion of his Baktrian infantry (units that he had levied, trained, and commanded in the past personally) north by way of the village of al-Q’naya[34] to cut off the supply line from the captured city of Laodíkeia-ḗ-Páralos, at which point the Romans made a final effort to break the Seleukidian force and at the opening of the Oróntēs Valley, but were unsuccessful in doing so. Within 30 days, Gracchus was ready to surrender, however, Eukratídēs, secure in his position, sent word of the Roman surrender to the Pergamenes on the coast, who refused to yield the city, and pursued him in battle in the mountain pass, where they were defeated. Thus, Eukratídēs saw fit to starve the Romans out for another 70 days for their insult in having invaded Asíā at all, before finally releasing the emaciated troops from their fort, their consul having succumbed to disease in the process.



The defeat of the Romans at Mount Bēlos sent a shockwave through the Eastern Mesógeios. Though Aígyptos was still contested by Ptolemaîos VIII Euergétēs and Ioudaía still plagued by Jewish mercenaries in the process of rousing another rebellion, a Rhodian embassy was received by Dēmḗtrios in Dáphnē following the victory against the Romans that winter that not only proposed an alliance between the Seleukídai and the Roman Republic, but an invasion of Illyrís, to expel the Romans from the east for good. Moreover, while agreements reached between Hellenistic kings were often not obliged to be carried out by their successors, the Romans had held the Seleukídai to the terms of the Treaty of Apámeia in so much as the indemnities were concerned, which had staved off their designs against the rebellious kings of Parthía for more than a decade despite the death of Antíokhos III and the reign of Séleukos IV. The Romans, though still a force to be reckoned with in Hellā́s, were compelled to pay back the indemnity, plus an extra 3,000 talents as a royalty for having attempted an invasion of Asíā. A further 2,500 talents would be imposed on the Romans for those Molossoi that could not be returned, as it was Dēmḗtrios plan to settle as many of them as he could in the city of Yerušalaim, which would again be renamed, this time as Dēmētriás, with its temple forever being repurposed as a temple of Zéus. They were also compelled to withdraw from Hellā́s entirely and return Aléxandros VI, though the terms of his return included that his kingdom would not include Paionía, Ēdōnís, Odomantikḗ, Sintikḗ, Parorbelía, Pierís, Bisaltía, Lynkāstís, Elimeía, Eordaía, Tymphaía, Parauaía, or Pelagonía, but rather only the Makedonian Lowland, Krestonía, Mygdonía, the whole of Khalkidikḗ, Bottikḗ, Anthemoûs, Sithōnía, Pallḗnē, and Aktḗ.



Paionía would be reinstated as a vassal state of the Roman Republic, and it would include Pelagonía. The ancient Kingdom of Lynkāstís would enjoy a similar resurrection, which would itself include Eordaía, Orestís, Elimeía, Tymphaía, and Parauaía, though this kingdom would be owe its vassalage to the Seleukídai. The regions of Bisaltía, Odomantikḗ, Sintikḗ, Ēdōnís, Pierís and Parorbelía, including the city of Amphípolis and the mines of Mount Pangaíon, would likewise be ceded to the Thrakian Sapaiai, who would be a vassal of Rōma. Thus, Paionía, Lynkāstís, and “Sapaía” would act as a series of buffer states between the Seleukídai and their allies, and the Romans and theirs (the tribes of Illyrís, the Dárdanai, and the Apeirote League). Candidates for the throne of Makedōnía, as agreed upon with the former Treaty of Léptis, would have to be mutually agreed upon by both the Seleukidian kings and the Roman Senate. Finally, while Pérgamon would lose all of its domains outside of the immediate vicinity of the city itself, the ruling dynasty, the Attalídai, would remain unharmed, as would the population of the city, and it would remain an ally of the Roman Republic on whose behalf the Romans or their vassals would be allowed to intervene (even if the benefit of such a relationship was voided by the alliance of Rhódos with the Seleukídai).



The Romans could no longer boast that they were the principal power in the Mesógeios, and the future of the east was to be decided by the peoples of the east.





Notes



1. It was standard practice at the time, particularly among the Hellenistic kingdoms because of their nature as military despotisms, that treaties were agreed upon between individual monarchs, and not necessarily between states themselves.

2. The Ancient Greek name of the Mediterranean Sea, which we will be using in this timeline.

3. Demetrius I Soter spent much of his childhood in Italy, and therefore would not have been well-acquainted with the members of the government that he had just inherited.

4. The Fergana Valley.

5. The Sakarya River.

6. Now the lakes Akşehir and Eber, in Afyon Province, Turkey. At the time, these two lakes were a single lake, before diversion of its sources for agriculture caused the water levels to drop, and for the lake to fragment.

7. Lake Tuz.

8. The Kızılırmak River.

9. The Troad.

10. At the time in question, Italy was not in any sense ethnically homogenous, and there was simmering animosity between the other Italian peoples, primarily the other Italic tribes, but also the Etruscans, over their position in Roman society and the allocation of public lands by the Roman government. This animosity boiled over IOTL with the Social War, but the Social War itself has been said by some scholars to have been long overdue by the time that it actually broke out.

11. The Battle of Magnesia.

12. One of the Ancient Greek names of the Agean that survived into the early modern period.

13. The endonym of the Lydians.

14. Darius I of Persia is recorded to have deported two of the Paeonian tribes to Cilicia following their defeat in his invasion of Europe in the late 6th century BCE. What became of them is lost to history. Some scholars believe that the city of Serraepolis on the Ceyhan River may have been a settlement established by these people, but this is mere conjecture, as the details of the foundation of the city are lost to history. ITTL, I will be positing that while some of these Paeonians settled down in Cilicia and became fully Hellenized following the Macedonian conquest of the area, others had fled Persian subjugation into the Taurus Mountains, where they retained their ethnic identity, and showed up in Roman records as the Homonadesians. Of course, there is no proof for either of these points of view, so it is every bit as much conjecture on my part.

15. Ptolemy I Soter was the son of Lagus of Eordaea, and the dynasty established by him was referred to at the time as the Lagid Dynasty, as opposed to the modern name of the “Ptolemaic Kingdom”.

16. The city of Nehardea in Mesopotamia was the center of Babylonian Judaism, and was the seat of the exilarchate, where the House of David ruled over the Jews who had chosen to remain in exile. However, there is no evidence of the existence of the office prior to the Parthian period, and so it would seem that while the House of David likely still held sway in the Jewish community of exiles in Mesopotamia, there was as of yet no exilarchate at the time in question. The Roman envoys sent to find to contact the House of David are not interested in establishing an exilarchate however, but rather in establishing a client-state in Judaea by reinstating the old ruling dynasty.

17. Garamantes, a Berber tribe from the desert of Libya.

18. The terms “Daphne” and Antioch seem to have been interchangeable to some degree at the time, as there were a great many cities whose names on paper reflected the names of dynasts, many of which seemed to have their own local names. ITTL, Antioch will be referred to primarily as Daphne.

19. The Negev.

20. The Nile.

21. The Kingdom of Meroe.

22. Tripoli, in Lebanon.

23. Tartus, in Syria.

24. Latakia, in Syria.

25. On the eastern side of the An-Nusayriyah Mountains on the Orontes, near modern Homs. Also called Laodicea ad Libanum by the Romans.

26. Gallipoli.

27. The Beqaa Valley.

28. Jableh, in Syria.

29. The Hellenistic name of Aleppo.

30. The story of the Ten Thousand, by Xenophon.

31. The Black Sea.

32. Near Modern Jisr al-Shughur, Syria.

33. The Hindu Kush.

34. Qunaya, in Syria.
 
This is all very impressive. Fantastic piece of work. I liked seeing the Romans get a bloody nose for once, though I do wonder what the impact of Grachus Maior dying has on the timeline for Rome. I can't quite figure out the timeline here, is this happening before or after the birth of Gaius Grachus? It would seem to be after the birth of Tiberius but before the birth of Gaius. I also wonder what effects having Grachus Maior's career end in an absolute disaster will have on Roman politics. I can't imagine that Tiberius has quite as easy of a time of it when starting his career.
 
This is all very impressive. Fantastic piece of work. I liked seeing the Romans get a bloody nose for once, though I do wonder what the impact of Grachus Maior dying has on the timeline for Rome. I can't quite figure out the timeline here, is this happening before or after the birth of Gaius Grachus? It would seem to be after the birth of Tiberius but before the birth of Gaius. I also wonder what effects having Grachus Maior's career end in an absolute disaster will have on Roman politics. I can't imagine that Tiberius has quite as easy of a time of it when starting his career.


The Gracchus in question is Tiberius Gracchus the Elder, and so Gaius Gracchus has probably been born by now. Wikipedia gives his birth date as 154, but it also says that he served as a quaestor in Sardinia in 126, and the minimum age requirement for quaestors was 28, so... yeah. That said, the indemnity and the return of the Molossians are going to create quite a bit of political turmoil in the years to come, and the new treaty was not signed by any of the leagues or city-states on the Greek mainland, which means that the Romans could be in for a rough ride here soon.
 
So, these next couple of updates have been awhile in the making, and I do apologize for not sticking to the schedule. I wrote out a number of different scenarios for this, and decided that not only did I like this one the best, but that this one was the most realisitic given the historical material I have read. If anyone would like to point out any flaws, I invite you to do so, and the update can be modified accordingly. Here we go...





Reduellātiō Magnus Servōrum






The decade after the defeat at Mount Bēlos would prove to be a trying one for the Roman Republic. Ensuring their continued hegemony in Hellā́s and preventing the renaissance of the Kingdom of Makedōnía were the first priorities of foreign policy. To do this, the Romans set out to cripple the kingdom by denying it direct access to its minerals by carving out its highland territories and declaring them independent states. Thus, the Kingdom of Lynkāstís, which had ceased to exist under Phílippos II, the father of Aléxandros ho Mégas, was reestablished under a certain King Kállas, whose seat would be the city of Hērákleia Lynkāstís, which would be a stop along a major road that the Romans were planning to build from Byzántion to Epídamnos in Illyria, where goods from the Orient would then be ferried to Brundisium. A second kingdom, established to the northeast, would be Paionía, under a certain Kotúdotos[1], which would act as a buffer between Makedōnía, Thrā́ikē, and the more barbarian north, with its seat at the old capital of Bulā́zōra[2]. Finally, the kingdom of Sapaía, a kingdom for the Sapai, who had in the past been loyal allies of Rōma, would rule from the city of Amphípolis under a certain king Mukáporis. Though Roman soldiers were not supposed to be garrisoned in the Kingdom of Lynkāstís, a client state of the Seleukídai, the Romans paid little heed to this, as they did to other clauses of the Treaty of Dáphnē, which cost them the respect of the common people of Hellā́s.



The Romans’ refusal to pay their indemnity to the Seleukídai and fully withdraw from Hellā́s did its due in souring relations between them and a number of the Hellenic cities and leagues. Certainly, the rhetoric that floated about the country often painted the Romans in an almost humorous light, as if children who refused to accept that they had lost some game. Others purported that the Romans were like adolescent boys come into their father’s fortune, spending it on the gifts that won them the infatuation of other men’s wives, and in some cities the people ‘charitably’ passed around baskets to gather funds for the indemnity, which were usually filled with useless trinkets and then dumped at the garrisons. In some places, mobs would gather outside Roman forts to bring their ‘gifts’ and have a good laugh at the soldiers. In the city of Oloossṓn[3] in Perraibía[4] however, an incident of particular interest (though it didn’t seem much at the time) took place, in which a certain fuller by the name of Kēphisódotos gave actual money to a ‘Roman’ officer who had protested the jokes of the crowd by specifying that he was not in fact Roman, but Etruscan[5], and that he had no more desire to guard his wretched outpost than the people had to host him. Kēphisódotos had stepped forward from the crowd and taken the officer around the shoulder and chastised his fellow countrymen, declaring that it was in poor character to mock people in such unfortunate circumstances.



“Take this, that you may take it home to your wife and children, whatever that you might have. Truly, fortune does not only manifest in the form of money, and there are few things more unfortunate than being forced into the employ of a master who cares not for your well-being. My employer surely is a good one, so, perhaps you need this more than I do.”



Following this incident and likely many others like it, as the Akhaian League and Athênai were in conflict over the border town of Orōpós, the Athēnaîoi sent embassies to Rōma, while the Akhaioí only did so begrudgingly, at the insistence of Polýbios and his party (with the exception of his brother, Thearídas, who agreed that deference to the Romans was no longer necessary).



There was also widespread discussion in Hellā́s of the fate of the 150,000 Molossoi, who had been demanded by the Seleukídai twice now, and never produced. Some people believed that the Seleukídai should invade Hellā́s and throw the Romans out entirely, forcing them to capitulate to the demands of the treaties that they had signed, while others thought that the Seleukídai were a paper tiger, and that their defeats of the Roman Republic were either due to luck or the poor command of inexperienced, less-intelligent men than the likes of Aemilius Paullus Mācedonicus. Others still believed that the Roman Republic was the paper tiger, having not enforced a number of its demands in the past, having recently lost decisively against the Seleukídai, and having sat idly by and watched while their allies, the Pergamenes, lost all of their possessions beyond the immediate vicinity of their city. The vast majority of Héllēnes however, understood the situation for what it was – there were two great powers in the Mesógeios, and time would tell which one would outlive the other, as the world wasn’t big enough for both of them.



Where the Republic’s original interests in Hellā́s and Illyria had mostly been renegaded to the maintenance of the security of trade, there was now a vengeful streak in the Senate and the assemblies, one that painted the Seleukídai in almost as villainous a light as Qart-Ḥadašt, and which was ever more out of touch with the interests of the people. The Republic’s wars had been expensive, not only financially and in terms of loss of life, but also structurally, as it seemed that the Roman/Italian farmer was becoming as endangered as the elephant of Mesopotamía[6]. Veterans of her wars would return home to find their farms bankrupt or in such disrepair that they had no other choice but to sell and take their families to the cities where they might find work, which itself was more and more difficult with the growing population of slaves. This was especially problematic after the defeats in Āfrica and Syría, in which veterans had come home disgraced, their lands in disrepair or bankrupt, and without the spoils that they otherwise might have sold to support their families in or near a city where they might search for work. It was a good thing that the Senate had not ratified all of the clauses of the Treaty of Dáphnē in their minds, as the increase in taxes to pay the indemnity would rob them of what little money they had earned from their soldiers’ pensions. The problem was particularly pronounced in Etrūria and Sicilia. Sicilia had been won in the Duella Pūnica[7], and those indigenous peoples who had sided with the Pūnicī[8] had had their lands confiscated by the Roman state, which then sold them to large landowners, while the indigenous peoples either could work for a pittance, join the army, or try their hands at finding work in the cities while gangs of slaves, primarily from Hispānia and Hellā́s worked said confiscated lands. This process of displacement had been ongoing for a century now, and with the rumors circulating of the Seleukidian demands for the freedom of the Molossian slaves now working many of the large estates, it was about to boil over.



Yet another ethnic element contributed to the simmering unrest in Sicilia. The island was the Republic’s first overseas territory, and was represented by a diverse admixture of peoples, including Héllēnes, Pūnicī (who called themselves Kǝná’anim), Élumoi, Sikeloi, and Sikanoi. Following the conquest of the island by the Republic, the new government had chosen to leave the previous system of taxation of farmers in place, which involved a tithe on every farmer that had to be delivered by late summer. The Romans had of course doubled the tithe from 5% to 10%[9]. Likewise, the collectors of this tax, known in Latin as decumānī, had been of indigenous or foreign stock under the rule of Qart-Ḥadašt[10], but the Lēx Hierōnica, which had codified this system into Roman law, said that these decumānī had to be of Sicilian origin. However, a great number of indigenous people had had their lands and possessions confiscated by the state when they sided with Qart-Ḥadašt, thereby impoverishing them, and further were subject to the payment of taxes… except for the Élumoi. No, the Élumoi enjoyed a very privileged status in the new order of things due to the fact that they had sided with the Romans against Qart-Ḥadašt, but also due to their dubious claims of descent from a certain prince of Troías, Élumos, which allegedly made them cousins of the Romans, who claimed descent from Aineías. The Élumoi had not been impoverished by the same land confiscations, and they were also exempt from taxation, which meant that the majority of the decumānī imposing the taxes on what poor indigenous Sicilian farmers were left were Élumoi, whom the other two indigenous peoples resented not only for their Hellenization, but for their position over them[10].



Certainly, the Sikeloi and Sikanoi could be said to have been Hellenized in the sense that they had adopted Hellenic dress and language, and even some of their personal names, though their sense of identity and their ancestral tales had not been lost. According to these tales, they and the Élumoi all shared a common origin, the history of which had been preserved in the tales of the former two, that told of them having been led there by the god Tarkuástros[11] from a place they called Lapídeia, which was a country in the north “where the mountains met the sea”[12]. In these tales, Élumos was one of three ancestral brothers who founded the three principal tribes of the island after a schism among the original tribe, which was itself descended from the god of earthly and heavenly fires – Adranós. While a great many of the tales had been interwoven with Hellenic ones, the ancestry of the people was something that many of them held to be sacred, and the Élumoi had not only professed being unrelated to their fellows, but now held undue sway over them through their avarice.



The tensions would come to a head in the early months of the year 160 (154), when a group of Molossian slaves mutinied against their master on a large plantation outside of the city of Henna. There was no particular leader of the mutiny at first. The slaves who had begun the rebellion were young, koûroi[13] by Hellenic standards, and unfit to lead. Although the precise reasons behind this initial mutiny are lost to history, a number of stories of later writers would dramatize these events by attributing them to a romance between a certain boy named Lynkídas and the daughter of his Italian master. It is known that Lynkídas was the adopted son of the man who came to lead the revolt as the ‘King of Sicilia’, Kunískos, who had fought the Romans in Ápeiros, but not whether or not this Lynkídas is the same one that is alleged to have ignited the revolt, nor whether the tales of his romance with the daughter of his master have any merit whatsoever.



What is known however, is that the revolt spread quickly in the Sicilian countryside, although it does not appear to have ever been restricted to the Molossoi who had been enslaved there. By now, many of the Molossoi had married and had children with other slaves, and so a strictly Molossian rebellion would have been impractical. Instead, not only does the rebellion seem to have included non-Molossian slaves from the start, but also came to include indigenous peoples of the island who had been disenfranchised after the Roman conquest, lending to it a certain appeal among the lower classes that made it all the more dangerous, and that helped it spread. In fact, within the year, the rebels, which included both slaves and the slaveless classes, had taken control of not only the Hellenic cities of Taoroménion[14] and Katánē[15], but the entire countryside surrounding Mount Aḯtnē[16]. The initial organization of the rebellion had declared Kunískos as a king in the old Molossian sense, for which he had taken the name Newoptólemos[17], and sought to organize a state as a monarchy in the Hellenic fashion. Ancient writers speak of Newoptólemos as a charismatic and politically savvy figure, and sometimes suggest that he may have been affiliated with the Molossian nobility, although this may be the mere conjecture of those who sought to explain his political acumen.



As this rebellion grew to include the more dispossessed lower classes of the island, particularly those indigenous peoples that had been bullied and oppressed by the Roman state, its structure changed to be more democratic. Newoptólemos is recorded as having proposed the idea of a Hellenic democracy, and stepped aside to share power with a certain Markáitos[18], a man of Sikanian origins, as stratāgoí, elected by a bōlā́[19], however the rebels seemed to prefer a more authoritarian form of government. Therefore, a compromise was struck, with the title of stratāgós being changed to árkhōn, to be elected by the bōlā́ from among its ranks for a lifelong term, while the members of the bōlā́ itself would be composed of 10 men elected by the ekklēsíā, or general assembly of each city.



It is also recorded that upon taking control of the two cities, that Newoptólemos immediately went about trying to establish relationships with various states, in particular with the Lord of Asíā, but also having sent embassies to the Republic’s old enemy, Qart-Ḥadašt, to speak before the Zeqenim there. It is thought that the rebellion did not adopt exodus as an option until much later, beginning with the idea of establishing some kind of a client state in Sicilia to some greater power, be it Qart-Ḥadašt or the Seleukídai. Whatever the ulterior motives at first, the rebellion came at a very bad time for the Republic of course, as it coincided with two wars in Hispānia that were already proving to be difficult [20]. More focused on achieving a foreign victory, the matter of the revolt in Sicilia was not given the attention that it deserved by Rōma’s career politicians, and it was not until the disastrous defeat of a Roman garrison at Syrákousai and the capture of that city that they truly began to be concerned. The rebels issued a proclamation to the free peoples of Ītalia, calling those who had been disenfranchised by the Roman Republic to take up arms and join them in their fight for “freedom and just government”. The proclamation was very specific in its outline of a new republic, one in which there would be no slaves, and all the peoples of Ītalia and Sicilia would be equally represented as citizens of a single republic.



This proclamation came before the return of the rebel embassies, which returned at the end of the year 161 (153) with news of support from the governments visited. Both Qart-Ḥadašt and the Seleukídai were supportive, although the nature of the support differed between the two states. However tempting it might have been to make an attempt on the territorial integrity of the Roman Republic on its own soil, the Lord of Asíā did not want to tempt the possibility of a war in Hellā́s, which he was not sure he could win decisively. He therefore specified that he would be willing to ferry the rebels across the Mesógeios to Ioudaía, where they would be settled as klēroúkhoi, or citizens of autonomous communities that owed military allegiance to the monarchy. Furthermore, according to the contemporary historians in Asíā, Kléōn of Lárisa and Olympiódōros of Seleúkeia, the embassy was sent back to Sicilia with a gift of 200 talents of silver, which was intended to placate the Romans long enough to allow the Seleukídai to ferry the rebels off of the island. There is however, no record of this silver having made it to Sicilia, and it is not mentioned by other contemporary writers. Though it would become a popular item of speculation among historians and writers of later generations, modern historians believe that the silver was used for mints, first for the so-called Sicilian League, but also for the purchase of equipment. The Zeqenim of Qart-Ḥadašt on the other hand, which had received financial and logistical support from the Seleukídai in the years following the Treaty of Léptis, welcomed the renewed opportunity to crush their old enemy, and offered naval support, and suggested that the rebellion continue to acquire the dispossessed classes of Ītalia.



Both contemporary and modern historians are known for calling the proclamation to the peoples of Ītalia, the so-called Fātum Nevoptolemī, premature. The Lord of Asíā could more than justify some sort of support of the rebels in so much as it included removing them from their current location, as he could argue that doing so was in line with the treaty that had been signed by a Roman consul. He could not however, make the argument that such fundamental reforms to the Roman Republic were within the scope of said treaty…




Slavery was of course an institution that was universal throughout the states of the Mesógeios at the time, however slave ownership was not universal among individuals. The dispossessed sociī of Ītalia, the allies that made up more than a third of the army that did not enjoy the rights of citizens or even the iūs Latiī, or Latin Rights, were not slave owners. While there were indeed wealthy Italian families, some of whom owned large estates and thirsted for the opportunity to try their hands at politics in Rōma, the majority of the sociī not only did not own slaves, but a significant portion of them in the countryside found themselves in direct competition with slave labor, which was something that Newoptólemos catered to when dealing with the indigenous peoples of Sicilia and nearby Bruttium[21].



The proposal of course, was not popular with the landed classes, and certainly not so among those cities that still retained a primarily Hellenic population in the region the Romans called Magna Graecia, nor was it entirely that popular among the Etruscans in the north, but it resonated very deeply with a number of peoples in Southern Ītalia, in particular the Safinos[22], who had been subjugated by the Romans more than a century earlier, and had demonstrated their desire for independence on more than one occasion by siding with the Republic’s enemies[23]. By now of course, the Safinos were not as interested in separation from the Republic as they were in finding their place in it, and the fact that the majority of them were not slave owners themselves made the prospect of siding with slaves in revolt less appalling, and yet, there place within the Republic did not seem so bad yet as to take up arms against it.



The capture of two cities combined with the proclamation told the government that the local magistrates were no longer capable of containing the problem, which became even clearer when another slave revolt broke out in Campānia. The revolt in Campānia however cannot be considered to be an extension of the one in Sicilia, as these slaves were known to kidnap free people of the Republic and sell them as slaves to one another, and it does not seem to have made any particular effort to include the dispossessed classes of Ītalia. Truly, Trýphōn, a former Molossian slave and participant in the rebellion in Sicilia would later write that it was the fault of the slaves in Campānia, who “submitted themselves entirely to their debased lust for vengeance” that the two revolts could not cooperate and were ultimately unable to acquire the Republic’s Italian allies among their ranks. Thus, in the spring of 162 (152), the consul Gnaeus Cornelius Dolāduella was sent to Campānia to dispatch the rebels there, while his colleague and co-consul Pūblius Cornelius Scīpiō Aemiliānus Āfricānus was sent to Bruttium. Cornelius Dolāduella was given a single legion together with a number of levied Italian alae, principally of Etruscan and Faliscan origins, while Scīpiō was also given a single legion with levied Italian alae, although his levies were almost exclusively ethnic Safinos; the Ītalī of both armies were promised veterans’ colonies in Sicilia for their efforts.



Cornelius Dolāduella initially met success in his campaign, as the rebels in the north of Campānia were indeed extremely disorganized. They burned the bridges of the Liris River[23], certainly, which meant that the Romans had to march through the Safinite highlands to meet them again at the River Calor[24] near Maloeis[25], where the rebels were defeated. He was again successful at Plistika[26] and Kaudiom[27], but he suffered a defeat near Suéssoula[28], where the rebels had apparently been trained by escaped gladiators under the command of Blungomatus, a former gladiator of Celtiberian origin. The defeat was not a decisive one, but rather more of a setback, though it rendered the Romans temporarily incapable of relieving the siege of Neápolis, which itself fell within the month to slaves from within the city. This put the rebels in Campānia in control of three important cities – Suéssoula, Neápolis, and Kúmē[29] – two of which happened to be ports, though the Romans made sure to block the harbors with contingents of their newly rebuilt fleet that had been ported in Ostia. Unfortunately, the rebels had enough food between the three cities to withstand a lengthy siege.



In Bruttium, Scīpiō Aemiliānus was met with nothing but success as he marched through the countryside. Though idealistic, the rebels here were no match for a trained Roman legion, although in his writings he recorded that the re-subjugation of the Brutiī and their subsequent enslavement was something that affected the morale of his Italian troops, and even his own to a degree. However, a good deal of the Bruttiī and the rebel slaves were able to escape to the port city of Rhḗgion[30], which had been heavily fortified by them. Like they had at Neápolis and Kúmē, the Romans blocked the Straight of Messā́nā with some 100 ships, preventing the crossing of the rebels into Sicilia. Sicilia itself had been almost entirely lost by this time to the rebels, excluding the western corner of the island, where the cities of Lilybaíon[31], Segesta, and Drépanon[32] were under siege, while the important port city of Pánormos[33] had already fallen.




The nature of the rebellion in Campānia was easier for the Romans to handle politically than the one in Sicilia, as the intiators and leaders of the latter were Molossoi who had allied with the indigenous peoples of the island to throw off their Roman yokes. While the hardliner, militarist aristocrats of the Senate might not have been entirely that concerned with enslaving the Molossoi a second time, despite repeated treaties with the Seleukídai that they be freed, Scīpiō Aemiliānus was not such a fool. After all, Qart-Ḥadašt was just across the water, and now was quite the inconvenient ally of the Lord of Asíā, who had been giving the city logistical and financial support, aiding it in reforming and expanding its standing army and rebuilding a fleet that would be able to check Roman authority in the Mesógeios. The Romans might have been able to win a war against Qart-Ḥadašt alone, and even Hellā́s, but the Seleukídai were in effective control of Aígyptos and Kyrēnaïkḗ, as their king had taken Kleopátra II as his wife following the defeat of the Romans at Mount Bēlos, and a new generation of youths in those countries had already been levied and trained to protect his interests there. The Romans did indeed have allies across the sea in the Inumiden, but as far as Scīpiō Aemiliānus was concerned, the old King Masensen was naught but a clever opportunist whose loyalties could come into question if the Romans were to suffer another defeat. So, he decided to meet with Newoptólemos, the so-called Árkhōn tês Sikelíās, on a boat in the Straight of Messā́nā to discuss terms.



In this meeting, Newóptolemos is said to have declared the loyalty of the rebel government to the Lord of Asíā, Dēmḗtrios I Nikátōr Sōtḗr, and claimed the island of Sicilia in his name. He also further stated that the Romans had now twice refused to pay their debts, and that if they did not do so, as well as cede the island to the control of his government, which was under the suzerainty of the Seleukídai, that a “grand reckoning” of the Romans awaited. A bold political move to be sure, one that had been decided upon without the consent of Dēmḗtrios himself, albeit the only portion of his demands that had fallen outside of the Treaty of Dáphnē was the part where Newoptólemos had claimed Sicilia for his alleged suzerain. Aemiliānus in contrast, stated that he was willing to come to a compromise on the release of the Molossian slaves on the island, but only they, and not any others. Newoptólemos countered with the claim that he was a representative of the “displaced and down-trodden” peoples of Sicilia, both enslaved and free, and that he could not accept such a proposal. Aemiliānus then proposed that Newoptólemos and his government might enter into a permanent alliance with Rōma, along the lines of the one that the city of Syrákousai[34] had with the Republic before it had betrayed it after the Battle of Cannae. According to this proposal, the lands of the Roman/Italian/Latin notables who had bought up vast tracts of land in Sicilia would be returned, and the slaves who had formerly worked them would receive wages for their work while the Sicilian government continued the 10% tithe on harvests, which the Romans would split with them, taking 4% off of the top. Aemiliānus then reminded Newoptólemos that he was a long way from the Seleukídai, and that there were too many points of landing on the island for him to reject the terms. Newoptólemos is then recorded as having said, “One cannot land with no ships.” His response had confused Aemiliānus, who had the upper hand as far as he could tell, and therefore signaled to his men that negotiations had concluded and got off the boat.



By that night, as Aemiliānus and his officers were enjoying dinner, in the camp outside Rhḗgion, the entire Roman fleet in the strait was set on fire, and Aemiliānus in his own writings stated that this was accomplished by “setting the very sea ablaze”. How this was accomplished is lost to history, although modern scholars lean toward the notion that the rebels had used some kind of petroleum-based mixture to do so. As the Roman ships had ended up primarily on the Sicilian side of the strait due to the flow of the currents, this meant that the ships in the harbor of Rhḗgion, of which there were some hundred or more, would be free to transport the rebels to the other side once the fire had subsided. This gave Newoptólemos more than 25,000 reinforcements of escaped slaves and rebel Bruttiī, which would swell his army to a total of 268,000, at least 70,000 of which had been blooded, and had experience fighting professional Roman armies.



Losing Sicilia was not an option for the Republic. The importance of its agricultural productivity could not be overestimated, as it was a vital source of grain for overseas armies, as well as being a large and profitable area of real estate speculation. Furthermore, whosoever controlled Sicilia could not only project themselves into the Mesógeios but was merely a pontoon bridge away from an invasion of Ītalia itself. The Romans were therefore willing to make certain compromises to maintain their control of it, including negotiating a new treaty with the tribes of Ibēria, and withdrawing some troops from Illyria and Hellā́s. The Roman Senate agreed to abandon the terms imposed by Tiberius Sempronius Gracchus Māior, which meant that the natives would be allowed to found new cities and fortify existing ones, and also that they would be relieved of the 5% requisition of the grain harvest and the requirement of providing auxiliary troops. They also agreed to withdraw Roman garrisons to the right bank of the Salon[35] River. In Lūsītānia, the Romans agreed to withdraw behind the Flūmen Anas[36], and also paid the Lūsītānī a sum of 50 talents of silver for agreeing to the treaty. Sextus Jūlius Caesar, who had been sent to Ibēria to handle the situation, was then called back to Ītalia at the head of an army of 15,000, with 5,000 professional Roman legionaries, 3,000 native auxilia (drawn mostly from the Kečečken[37], Iltirkečken[38], and Aučečken[39]), 2,000 levies of Italian origin from the veteran colonies in Hispānia, another 4,000 levies of Latin origin from the same colonies, and 2,000 Inumiden auxilia. Quintus Fulvius Nōbilior returned from Hellā́s at the head of an army of 35,000, with 18,000 legionaries, 10,000 Italian alae, and 7,000 Illyrian auxilia. A further 16,000 auxilia of Ligurian origin were levied in the north, with the promise of peace and a payment of a total of 500 talents of silver to the tribes there. Another two legions were then levied from the Roman colonies around Ītalia, for a total of 77,000 troops. The Romans then spent the next year gathering and training the new armies for the invasion, which would begin in the opening months of summer in 163 (151). However, the rebels had done the same, and also spent the year acquiring better equipment.



Now, Newoptólemos had anticipated that the Romans would bring forces from Hellā́s, and that they might attempt to land on the southeastern corner of the island, which was considerably less rugged and therefore had many more locations suitable for landing a large army. He had spent much of the year establishing a string of fortifications and forts in the region, stationing his best and most experienced troops there, including a number of veterans of the Tertium Duellum Macedōnicum, who had been instrumental in his previous defeats of Roman troops in Sicilia. In his mind, this was the most important portion of the island to hold, as it would be the port of exodus of the people off the island should the need arise. He did not however expect that the Romans would land in the northwest, on the north side of the Montēs Nebrodes[40], neither of which had been garrisoned to any great extent. This army was headed by Fulvius Nōbilior, and included the Illyrian auxilia and Italian alae, who would prove instrumental in defeating the Molossoi and Sikeloi in the mountains over the course of the summer, albeit at a cost that Nōbilior had not previously anticipated. Indeed, by the time he had won control of the mountain passes, his army had been reduced from 40,000 to 33,000. This meant that he could not move into the lowlands until his colleague, Scīpiō Aemiliānus, who had been reelected as consul, had been successful in relieving the sieges of the western cities and taking the central highlands… a truly daunting task, to be sure.



Aemiliānus was aided by the Inumiden, whose king, Masensen, sent his own son, Prince Mikiwsen[43], to command an army of some 20,000 troops. However, while Aemiliānus was successful in relieving the sieges of Lilybaíon, Drépanon, and Segesta, which gave him an extra 30,000 troops at his disposal (with Roman legionaries from Lilybaíon and Drépanon and Elymian volunteers from Segesta), he was not able to claim the central highlands, suffering a major setback at the Battle of the Hypsas River[44], where Markáitos and the rebels were successful in causing a stampede of the elephants that the Inumiden had ferried over, which was not only successful in devastating their troops, but killing their prince. This left the rebels in control of the bulk of the island for much of the winter, but Aemiliānus would indeed prove that he could fill the shoes of his family the following year in the closing months of the winter of 164 (150) when he and the Inumiden general Sufaks were successful in outmaneuvering Markáitos at the Battle of Mount Leberēs[45] and breaking the rebels’ center. This allowed the Romans to gain the high ground, while the rebels regrouped at Herákleia Minṓa[46], but the central highlands were still not under their control. The rebels had garrisoned and added to the fortifications of the Castra Nicia[47], from whence an army under two Sikanian generals, Mosgogónos[48] and Ā́trox[49], was dispatched to deal with them, which was initially successful in doing so, but ended up being defeated near Óros-tôn-Hierā́kōn[50] and forced back to the fortress briefly, before the previously defeated reinforcements at Herákleia Minṓa under Markáitos arrived to break the siege.


By now, it was becoming abundantly clear that the Romans could not reclaim the island on their own without pulling more troops from Hellā́s or drawing more levies, and it seemed that few were willing to volunteer in light of the constant setbacks that the military had faced in recent years. The senate therefore, sent an expedition to Hellā́s to demand the aid of the Republic’s allies there, with special emphasis being placed in Ápeiros and Akhāḯā, both of whom made a series of excuses as to why they were unable to provide aid. Rhódos, having been snubbed by the Lord of Asíā, who was not impressed with their envoys following the Siege of Mount Bēlos, was the only Roman ally in the whole of Hellā́s who responded to these demands, promising 25,000 men from the island of Krḗtē. They were however stopped by a Seleukidian fleet that had blocked the harbor of the city itself while the Roman ambassadors were present.



The fleet was under the command of a certain Diódotos of Skythópolis, who reminded the Roman ambassadors that duly elected representatives of the Roman Republic had signed two treaties with two separate Seleukidian kings to release the Molossian slaves and pay indemnities, and that in 13 years, the government had not made an attempt to meet either of these terms. He specified that if the Romans failed to meet these terms, that war would be upon them… in Sicilia… which would be claimed by the Lord of Asíā for his loyal agents there. Interestingly enough, ancient writers seem to agree that the Molossian árkhōn, Newoptólemos, and Dēmḗtrios were not in communication, and that the two came to the same conclusion independently. Diódotos further specified that the ships of the Rhodian fleet, the bulk of which were in port and therefore unable to be mobilized, were now the property of the Lord of Asíā, and that Rhódos must enter into a permanent alliance with the Seleukídai, thereby changing their allegiances completely. In short, the Romans would not be getting those reinforcements from Krḗtē…



The Romans considered this an act of war, but not one that they could do much about. Neither the Akhaian nor the Apeirote League had responded to their demands for support in Sicilia, and they had already withdrawn a significant number of troops from the region. A formal conference to discuss the matter was arranged by the ambassadors to take place at Kórinthos, in the territory of the allied Akhaian League, between representatives of the Seleukídai and the two incumbent Roman consuls. During the deliberations on the matter in the Senate, Mārcus Porcius Catō Māior delivered his last speech to the Senate, in which he shamed the landowning classes of Rōma for their decadence and philhellenism, and especially for their cowardice in dealing with the matter of a slave revolt, saying that the Romans had defeated the Molossoi before and won against even greater odds in his lifetime, and finally finishing with his notorious comment that Qart-Ḥadašt must be destroyed, but also saying that the Héllēnes must be “reminded of their place, lest Rōma be undone”. Indeed, a powerful speech from perhaps the city’s most tenured politician, but it fell on deaf ears at the time that it was given, as the other senators were not as confident in the supremacy of the Republic as Catō. Therefore, the Romans would send their consuls, Lūcius Calpurnius Pīsō Caesōninus and Sextus Jūlius Caesar, while the Lord of Asíā would be represented by Stēsíkhoros of Kýrrhos, the incumbent epistolográphos[51], and Brýsōn of Ephesos, the epí tôn pragmátōn[52]. This conference, which was mediated by a host of Akhaian representatives, most especially Polýbios and Phýlakos, who had both been captives in Ītalia previously, but were widely recognized as being of neutral disposition.

The Roman consuls made the Seleukidian officials aware of the proposals that had been offered to Newoptólemos by Scīpiō Aemiliānus, including the promise of freedom for the Molossian slaves, who would have been allowed to have been received by the Seleukídai wherever they would like to take them, and that the offer was still standing. However, it was the position of the Lord of Asíā that solely freeing the Molossian slaves in Sicilia would be impractical, as it had been nearly 20 years since their enslavement, and that intermarriage was sure to have happened. Thus, the Molossian slaves would have to be freed, together with their families, for which the Lord of Asíā was willing to pay the slave owners for the value of property lost, so long as the Senate agreed to pay the indemnity of the Treaty of Dáphnē. They warned that if these terms were not met, that Sicilia would be invaded, and set up as a neutral buffer-state along the lines of Makedōnía between the Roman Republic and the Seleukídai, on whom the two governments would have to agree to ratify the elections of Sicilian árkhontes.



Seeing as a number of the slave owners in question were not of Roman but Italian/Latin origins, the proposal of the Seleukídai seemed reasonable enough to the two consuls. After all, Newoptólemos had issued a proclamation to the peoples of Ītalia, and the Romans feared that if the war in Sicilia were to result in the total loss of sovereignty over the island, that the Republic’s Italian allies might reconsider their alliances. However, the terms did not solve the matter of the indigenous peoples of the island who had risen in the rebellion which Newoptólemos and his government represented. Surely, Newoptólemos would not accept the terms if these people were not represented in them, a fact of which the consuls made the Seleukidian representatives aware. Subsequently, Stēsíkhoros and Brýsōn, who represented a government always willing to accept new Hellenic migrants, offered to take the entire rebel population to Ioudaía, a most troublesome province that was in need of just such a solution.



Notes



1. In this timeline, I am positing that the Paeonian dialects are part of a sister-branch of Indo-European to Greek together with the Ancient Macedonian language, based on the available evidence, which is indeed scanty. The personal name Kotúdotos therefore can be translated as “given by Kótus”, which indicates that the Paeonian pantheon shares some deities in common with the Thracian one.

2. The name of the Paeonian capital can be translated as “shining/white spring”, in reference to the snow that the area receives regularly during the spring. This in turn would indicate an o-grade of PIE *bhel- “bright, shining, light”, which demonstrates that Paeonian shares Cowgill’s Law in common with Hellenic. The second element is from*yeh1- “year”, which reveals that Paeonian has also undergone a similar process of palatalization as the Greek dialects. Although, just as in Ancient Greek, this palatalization had different results in the different dialects of Paeonian, with Central Paeonian/Almopian Bulā́dōra, Eastern Paeonian Bulā́dzōra.

3. Modern Elassona, in Thessaly.

4. Perrhaebia, a region of northern Thessaly.

5. I do apologize for the break in local color here, but I don’t really like the use of “Rasnan/Rasnaian” as adjectives to describe Etruscans here. We know that their endonym was Rasna, which in the genitive would have come out as Rasnal.

6. Elephants were likely still extant, though seriously endangered in Mesopotamia and the Levant at this time.

7. The Punic Wars. Note that the sound shift of /dw/ to /b/ as not yet taken place in Latin, which would yield the more familiar form Bella.

8. I cannot say that the Romans hiked the grain tithe on the Sicilians for certain, although it does seem like something they would do in light of their treatment of those of them that sided with Carthage.

9. This also is conjecture on my part. According to the Lex Hieronica, the decumani had to be Sicilian in origin, and given that the other Sicilian peoples had not been allies of the Republic when it conquered the island, it seems likely to me that the Elymians would have been the primary staff.

10. This is not conjecture on my part, but completely historical. The Elymians did indeed claim descent from a certain Prince Elymos of Troy, and the Romans claimed descent from Aeneas, which, put together with the fact that they had allied with the Romans during their invasion of Sicily gave them a privileged, tax-exempt status.

11. This is indeed a little bit of conjecture on my part, yet again. Scholars and linguists disagree on the origins of the Sicani and Siculi, although theories regarding an affinity to the Ligurians are growing in popularity. The name Tarkuástros is taken from Adolfo Zavaroni’s essay La lingua degli antichi Liguri. Iscrizioni e figure sacre su due rocce di Campocatino (Alpi Apuane), which is available here (http://www.academia.edu/24851735/La...acre_su_due_rocce_di_Campocatino_Alpi_Apuane_) for anyone who is interested. He links the name to PIE *terkw- “to turn” and *h2stḗr “star”, which would mean something like “star-turner”, in the sense that the sky is like a wheel. Such a hypothetical deity might be very useful for navigators, and so ITTL, he is the deity that guided an ancient population from the Northwestern Italian coast to Sicily.

12. Roughly corresponding to the highlands around modern Genoa.

13. An Ancient Greek term for teenagers, probably below the age of 17 or 18.

14. Modern Taormina, Sicily.

15. Modern Catania, Sicily.

16. Mount Etna, Sicily.

17. The /w/ here is present because it had not yet been dropped in the Northwest Doric dialect that would have been spoken by the Epirotes at the time.

18. This is a constructed name of mine containing the name of a hypothetical Siculo-Ligurian water/maritime deity whom I have named Markos. This name is from PIE mark-/*merk- “wet” and is therefore a cognate with Proto-Germanic *marhin “a kind of soup”. The second element of the name can be traced to PIE *h2éy- “to give, to take”, and is therefore a cognate to Ancient Greek aîtos “share”.

19. Here we are also using the Doric pronunciation of the words, as the progenitors of the office in this context are speakers of the Northwest Doric dialect.

20. These are the Second Celtiberian War and the Lusitanian War.

21. The contemporary name of modern Calabria, which original actually referred to modern Puglia… go figure.

22. Contemporary native endonym of Samnium.

23. A number of the Samnites sided with Hannibal Barca during his invasion of Italy.

24. River Calore, in Italy.

25. Contemporary native name of Benevento, Italy.

26. Plistica, an old city southwest of Benevento.

27. Montesarchio, in the Province of Benevento, Italy.

28. Suessula, an ancient city between the modern towns of Capua and Nola.

29. Contemporary Greek name of Cumae, now modern Cuma, a village near Bacoli in the Province of Naples, Italy.

30. Reggio Calabria, in the comune of Calabria, Italy.

31. Contemporary Greek name of Lilybaeum, now modern Marsala, in the Province of Trapani, Sicily.

32. Contemporary Greek name of Drepanum, now modern Drepana, in the Province of Trapani, Sicily.

33. Contemporary Greek name of Panormus, modern Palermo, Sicily.

34. Contemporary Greek name of Syracusae, modern Syracuse, in the Province of Syracuse, Sicily.

35. Contemporary native pronunciation of the Jalón River, one of the tributaries of the Ebro in the Province of Aragón, Spain.

36. Contemporary Roman name of the Guadiana River, modern Spain and Portugal. The name can be translated as “river of ducks”.

37. Possible contemporary native pronunciation of the tribal name Cessetānī. It is hypothesized by some historical linguists that the letter /s/ as written in the Iberian language may represent some kind of an affricate, perhaps alveolar or post-alveolar. ITTL, we will be going with the pronunciation as a post-alveolar affricate.

38. Possible contemporary native pronunciation of the tribal name Ilergetes.

39. Possible contemporary native pronunciation of the tribal name Austeānī.

40. Contemporary name of the Nebrodi Mountains, but also the modern Peloritani Mountains, in Northeastern Sicily.

41. Contemporary Greek name of Milazzo, Sicily.

42. Contemporary Greek name of Tindari, Sicily.

43. Contemporary native pronunciation of Micipsa, the son of Masinissa.

44. Contemporary Greek name of the Belice River, in Western Sicily.

45. A hypothetical contemporary indigenous name of the Monte Delle Rose, in the Monti Sicani in Southwestern Sicily.

46. An Ancient Greek city situated at the mouth of the the Platani river, in Southwestern Sicily.

47. Contemporary Roman name of the fort at modern Caltanissetta, in the Province of Caltanissetta, Sicily.

48. A hypothetical Sicanian name meaning “child of gulls”. From PIE *mesg- “to plunge, dip, sink” and *genh1- “to beget”.

49. A hypothetical Sicanian name meaning “dust/dark eye”. From PIE *ātr- “to burn?” (possible cognates in Latin āter “dark” and Old Armenian ayrem “to burn”) and *h3ókws “eye, face”.

50. A hypothetical contemporary name of the Serra del Falcone, near Serradifalco, in the Province of Caltanissetta, Sicily.

51. An office roughly equivalent to the modern Secretary of State.

52. An office roughly equivalent to the office of Grand Vizier.
 
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Not sure I'm getting this, so essentially Sicily is going to become an independent, Slave-Free Constitutional Monarchy?
 
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