The Gods' Bloody Tune: A Classical Greek TL
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Chapter III: The Peace of Theramenes and Pausanias
Chapter III: The Peace of Theramenes and Pausanias
Atipates, son of Agis
As his fleet was anchoring in Chalcis’ harbour Atipathes wonder what impiety he might have commited to be subject to the fury of the Moirais (1)? How was he to otherwise, explain the last few months.
After Khalkedon he had found himself at the head of what remained of the Spartan fleet, fleeing toward Hellas as fast as they could. While they were doing so news of the rapid collapse of the Spartan naval empire reached them but they could do nothing to prevent it. While they where rowing toward the other side of the Aegean pleas for help from their besieged Chian allies and from their Oligarchic friend facing Athenian reprisals. Atipates could do not but ignore them and order his rowers to row faster.
During their flight Atipathes had hoped that of his dead friends’ work, that Sparta could save something of her aborted maritime empire. Euboa, after all, still stood and did not appear to be in any hurry to return to Athenai’s fold. Maybe, just maybe, the great and wealthy island could be salvaged for the Peloponesian League. Even those hopes had been dashed, however, when the remnants of the once great fleet approached the island.
They had expected to find, at last, refuge and rest in the city of Khalkis. A place where they could confer with the commanders of the island’s garrisons and with their local allies and determine what should be done if the Athenians where to come. Instead, they had found Chalkis’ habour filled with hoplites and Peltastes (2), many of the formers with shields painted with Herakles’ mass. Here and there Atipathes’ could also see archers, clustered around torches needed to make the flaming arrows that could destroy sails and decks… Thebai’s had betrayed them.
A few hours where needed but a meeting between Atipathes, and a handful of captains, and the Thebans leader was aranged. There the Spartan seamen learned that, with the complicity of the locals they had crossed the waters between it and Boetia and occupied Euboa’s Poleis without a blow being strucked. Inferior in numbers, the garrisons Sparta had left in Eretria and Khalkis could do nothing but retreat to the Poleis’ acropolis, submitted to sieges in all but name. The Thebans then proceeded to explain that they did not desire war with Sparta and that, in many ways, Atipathes arrival was a gift of the Olympians: he could ferry these garrisons back to Lakonia, with no further troubles needed.
‘’We were allies!'' Atipathes almost spitted, his voice full of anger.
‘’You cannot hold the island now, the Athenians will not be besieging Khios forever and the Spartans Khalkis in Euboa only have so much bread with them’’. One of the Thebans reported matter of factly and, as much as the Spartan captain hated to admit it, he had spoken the truth.
The Theban offer was accepted and thus, the last piece of dream that Atipathes had once dreamed went away.
Theramenes, son of Gorgias
For the thousandth time since he came to Pylos Theramenes wondered if he was mad. Athenai had only just escaped complete disaster multiple times during the past year and the empire had yet to be completely secured, for Khios still held. Moreover, Atika itself was still occupied, for the Spartans still held guard at Dekelia. In such conditions attempting to sneak past Sparta’s guard and rebuild Athenai’s old fort on the Messenian coast, near the very heart of Sparta’s power. And yet, there nevertheless stood Theramenes.
Ironically, it was precisely in the apparent madness of it all that Theramenes’ hopes layed. If the gods favoured Theramenes the Spartans would never suspect, not even for an instant, that the Athenians would return to Pylos so soon and before news of the construction of a fort in so sparsely populated an area could reach Sparta it would have been well underway. So well underway in fact that it would have been over before the red capes of the Spartiates would be seen. The fort which Spartans feared so much that they had repeatedly offered to trade it for Dekelia and Atika would be a diplomatic chip in Athenai’s pocket once more and, perhaps, would be what finally brought it a peace that would leave her empire mostly intact.
As the soldiers and rowers he had brought with him where busying themselves, erecting a palisade as fast as they could, Theramenes could only glare at the horizon. Every single moment during which nothing appeared brought him closer to his goal.
Cleomenes, son of Pleistoanax
Born in an old Spartan family Cleomenes had, from the moment he was able to understand the world around, be brought up in the conviction that Sparta was inherently different, indeed superior, to all other Poleis of Hellas. Throughout his life Cleomenes had always believed in the truth of these words and had never questioned them, until today.
For most of the day the Apela (3) had been the theater of scenes Cleomenes would have been smugly thought where the preserve of the Athenian Ekklesia. The Athenian Theramenes had come to offer peace, a peace where Pylos would be returned to Sparta in exchange for their Polis evacuation of Attika.
Some had advocated to accept the peace, pointing out that the war at sea had been lost, that Sparta did not have the wealth to rebuild, that word of the return of the Athenian to Pylos had already come to the Helots and then there was Thebai… Others, however, believed that if Sparta left the current occasion pass they’re will never be another one. Athenai would recover, her grip on her empire would strengthen and her internal divisions would heal. Sparta needed to extract from her remaining allies whatever sums where needed to rebuild a fleet, even at the risk of a rebellion.
The debate had long raged, accusations of cowardice, foolishness, hybris, love for Athenai, Medising (4) and, above all, willingness to act against the best interests of Sparta to further one’s ambitions freely flied. Sign of the great division among Spartans, both sides could count a king among their spokesman: Agis II, victor of Mantinea, lending his voice to war and Pausanias, who had assumed the leadership of Sparta’s traditionalists, for peace.
When all was said and done, however, when the Spartiates (5) where asked to make their opinion be heard by screaming and banging their spears on their shields and Cleomenes joined the voices for peace, it could only end with their triumph. Spartans where simply too conservatives when it came to foreign policy, too warry of seeing what Cleomenes and all true Spartans knew in their heart to be a most fragile construction, tough they would never admit, to follow the course followed by the War Party. Moreover, the return of the Athenians at Pylos had awakened the old fear of a Messenian revolt and nothing could prove more powerful to a Spartan mind.
For a few moments Cleomenes was relieved, the nightmare of a Sparta loosing everything in the pursuit of a fabled naval empire was banished, things would remain as they were. Then his eyes fell on those who had wanted to pursue such a dream, especially the Motboxs and those in danger of becoming Inferiores (6). For those men victory over Athenai was everything, it was the hope of becoming sufficiently wealthy or preeminent to make their way in Sparta’s society, or at the very least to avoid loosing everything by not being able to bring their share to the Sysiphe(7). As he saw the hatred shining in their eyes Cleomenes shivered.
Dromeus, son of Lysicrates
Dromeus had lived to be an old man and, has he reflected has he took place on one of Megakles’ house, in many ways this was his curse.
He had grown up in the Miletos of decades ago, when the glorious memory of the great victory over the Medes was still fresh, when the Delian League was still an Hegemonia and was not yet an Archai (8) and when Athenai was still supposed to lead the Poleis of Ionia, Karia and the Aegean in a sunny future where Demokratia would reign and all Poleis would be free.
These days had passed, however. Miletos became a mere subject, rather then an ally, of Athenai and, when news came of the disaster in Sikelia, had to stand with either those who whised Miletos to be independent once more and those who, like him, believed in Demokratia. Dromeus stood with the first and time would prove he had chosen wrong. Under Sparta’s lead the Oligarchy having taken power in Miletos became ever more narrow and, under Lysander’s Dekarkhy (9), ever fanatic in their pursuit of those who didn’t share their loyalty to Sparta. Miletos had merely exchanged a stern and severe master for a boorish, greedy and intemperamental one. When news of Khalkedon came to Miletos the democrats, lead by the young Stasis, had risen in revolt. Their wrath had been terrible, tough in all justice Dromeus could not say that the Oligarchs with whom he had collaborated had been kinder in their days of power, and the blood of Sparta’s friends had ran throughout the Polis. Dromeus and a few of his grandchildren had managed to escape to Amphipolis. Most of his family had not been so lucky.
Dromeus and fellow Milletines exiles where now to condemned to dwell in Amphipolis, beging for their bread and wine and shown around at social occasions, nothing more then living ornaments of the city’s power, in the hope of somehow one day gain the supporters they would need to return home.
Tonight had, at first, seemed to be nothing more then another of these occasions, from which nothing would come. Megakles was known throughout Amphipolis has a lightweight, a man who was clever enough but who prefered to spent most of his time feasting then to bother with politics and wars. As the night whent on, however, the tone of his host's voice and the expression in his eyes had changed. Moreover, Dromeus also quickly came to notice that, little by little, the other guests where trickling out of the room, leaving him along with Mekagles…
Soon the conversation turned to the circumstances of Dromeus’ exile and Megakles listened to him, intently, before answering that, while he probably could not ensure that Dromeus would see Miletos, he would see his grandchildren return to their city.
‘’How?’’ Dromeus asked, startled, not quite sure of the direction the conversation had just taken.
‘’Amphipolis will become a new Athenai’’ he answered matter of factly ‘’not an Athenai like the one we have now but an Athenai as it should have been. The Athenai you believed in during your youth! Leader and not master! At the head of an Hegemonia and not an Archay!’’
For a moment Dromeus remained speechless, paralized by surprise‘’But you have no fleet of note! You are not a Demokratia! You have statues of Brasidas everywhere in the Polis (10)!’’ he finally managed to utter
‘’Statues can be toppled, Demokratia instaured and a fleet build. Athenai had Laurion and silver we will have Paganion and gold’’ Megakles countered with the same quiet confidence. ‘’I expect, however, that some would accuse us of wanting to bring Athenai’s back when we will move but if a man like you, a man who lost everything at Athenai’s hands was to talk to some other men…’’ he trailed.
Much of Dromeus’ instincts screamed that he needed to refuse but there was something in Megakles’ voice, something that seemed like a candle lightening the darkness and showing a way out. At that moment Dromeus remembered a story his father’s told him years ago, of when he had met the victor of Salamis…
Atipathes, son Agis
‘’You and Lysander deserved better!’’
Coming from his back as he was leaving the Apela with a heavy heart, the voice surprised Atipathes while its familiarity displeased him. He was about to politely dismiss the young Spartan who had approached him but, before he could do so, the man added that ‘’Where it not for Lysander’s enemies in Sparta you would have gotten the gold the fleet needed to defeat Athenai!’’ These where, audacious and dangerous words, to be sure, for they accused powerfull mens, but Atipathes believed in them all the same.
‘’Many Perioicos (11) and Inferiores believe as we do!’’ Atipathes new acquaintance continued. ‘’If they could voice their toughts in the Apela we would have won!’’
‘’Yes, but they cannot’’ Atipathes simply replied before he saw a mischevious smile that drew itself in the face in front of him, remembering him of Lysander, before it neared his ears and whispered ‘’perhaps we could change that?’’
A mere few years he would instantly reported what he had heard to the Ephors but the times had changed and he was now willing to think the unthinkable.
‘’What is your name?’’ Atipathes answered after a moment of hesitation.
‘’I am Cinadon, my friend!’’
___
There is plenty of evidences to believe that the Peace of Theramenes and Pausanias was seen at the time as little more then a truce, a lull in the great duel between Athens and Sparta, just like the Peace of Nicias had been 15 years before. Certainly, very few suspected that it would mark the beginning of a new era in the political history of Ancient Greece.
Athens and Sparta remained, for the moment at least, the two most powerful poleis of the Greek world but they emerged from the conflict severely weakened. To be sure, the might of Athens’ fleet remained formidable and, despite the loss of Corcyra, Ambracia, Chalcidique and Euboa, her empire still stood far taller than any other polity in the Greek world, making her a true Mediterranean superpower. In other areas, however, Athens had not fared so well: between the Great Plague and the Peloponesian War Athens’s the Athens of Thrasybulus had only half of the citizens of the Athens of Periclès. Moreover, despite the Persian gold its treasury was nevertheless in a bad shape and, in spite of victory in the east and of the bad memories the short-lived oligarchic regime had left, the oligarchic threat remained ever present, just as the supporters of an hoplitic regime where ever more active.
In appearance Sparta had fared better, but the war had exacerbated her demographic woes while her incapacity to truly defeat Athens had dealt serious blow to the prestige of a city whose whole reputation was in her martial excellence. The Agogee (12) produced magnificent hoplites but it also caused their numbers to be ever dwindling. The days when 5 000 Spartiates could be mustered to fight at Platea where long gone and the Apela was ever more slightly filled. To demographic concerns social tensions soon added themselves, as the Motboxs refused to accept to see themselves as inferiors to other Spartiates when they fought for their Polis as much as they while Inferiores, and soon to be Inferiores, where increasingly unlikely to accept their faith. The Imperialist Party in Sparta had hoped to see the wealth gained through a maritime empire solve most of these issues but Athens’ victories at Cizicus, Arginusae had left those hopes dashed.
In many ways the true victors of the Peloponnesian War had either been neutral or secondary players. Her geopolitical position greatly improved, Thebes could turn toward her old ambitions in Central Greece, while Argos and Corinth could do the same in the Peloponnese and in the West. Other Poleis, once mere pawn in the great game, would also make their presence felt on the scene, Amphipolis one of the first among them.
Athens and Sparta had both fought to break the bipolarity of the Greek World, to achieve unipolar hegemony over their breathen. Both had sometimes seemed about to achieve it but, at the end, their ambitions came to naught. In Boetia, Mantinea and Sicily Athens’ phalanx had been defeated, just like Sparta’s triremes had been in the Golf of Corinth and in the Aegean. The two cities had bathered each other into exhaustion. The Peloponesian War had destroyed the bipolar order who had governed Hellas since the Persian Wars but, instead of the triumph of one city, it had layed the groundwork for a multipolar Greek world. To borrow Xenophon’s words, the Greeks would long still dance the Gods’ Bloody Tune.
Excerpt of A New History of the Peloponesian War
(1) The divine weavers in whose tapistry the future of all things where weaved, and who where the incarnation of inexorable faith, according to Ancient Greek mythology.
(2) The light infantry of the time.
(3) The assembly of Spartiates.
(4) Essentially the Ancient Greek term for collaborators, specifically targetted at those seen as betraying their fellow Hellenes to Persia. Lysander's dealings with Cyrus have fully come to light after Khalkedon and this isn't good for Sparta.
(5) Sparta's soldier-citizens.
(6) The Motboxs where men with a Messanian mother and a Spartan father who, as long as their father's familly had enough land to give them some, where allowed to go through the Agogee (see footnote 12 further down) and to become Spartiates if they succeeded. They where nevertheless still looked down upon in Spartan's society and tended to be less wealthy then other Spartiates. Inferiores where Spartans who would have otherwise been Spartiates, but who either failed to successfully complete the Agogee or where unable to pay their share at the Sysiphe. Inferiores who where relegated to such a status where rather common in Sparta at the time. Obviously neither group is filled with happy bunnies and many among them, alongside less wealthy Spartiates who feared become inferiores, saw the acquisition of a maritime empire as the source of wealth and/or glories they needed.
(7) The common meals of the Spartans. A Spartiates needed to contribute to the Sysiphe if he wished to retain his status as an hoplite-citizen and not become an Inferiores.
(8) In the ancient greek understand an Hegemonia was league of free Poleis, where the hegemon held military command and could, at most, ask for financial contributions to pay for the campaign but no more. Archay was closer to our understanding of empire.
(9) Council of ten invididuals, governing in the name of a very narrow oligarchy. Decarchy where the system of government Lysander tended to default too when he installed government in Ionia, the Straits and the Aegean.
(10) Amphipolis had been an Athenian colony until an audacious expedition lead by Brasidas had lead to their expulsion from most of the area. Brasidas, widely known as one of Sparta's foremost war leader during the Peloponesian War, had been revered as the city's second founder since.
(11) Citizens of the other cities of Laconia, under Sparta politically but allowed to handle their local affairs. They where very much NOT Spartiates, however.
(12) The training system through which all future spartan hoplites needed to go and successfully pass if they wished to become Spartiates. It had a strong atrition rate that really didn't help Sparta's demographic issues.
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Chapter IV: The Shaky Throne
Warning: Brief mention of child abuse in the second POV
Chapter IV: The Shaky Throne
Aremnes, son of Pamenes
Some of the less perceptive minds around the Great King, Aramnes sometimes had to refrain himself from thinking younger minds, had managed to themselves that everything was going well.
In fairness, a few successes a few victories had, indeed been won. Betrayed by many of his subordinates, Pharnazabus had been forced to find refuge further east and the whole of the Persian Empire west of the Euphrates and north of Egypt soon found themselves recognising Cyrus as Great King. His army had then marched south, following the Euphrates with Susa has its final objectives. Babylon, the great city itself, now found itself besieged by Cyrus.
Aramnes, however, had lived long enough to see matters as they truly were, and to understand that winning a few battles was not enough to win the war. It was the mighty Phoenician triremes that Aremnes and his king had in mind when they courted the satrapes of the coast. With these ships in their possessions they would have been to add their numbers to Lysander’s fleet and, once they Athenians would have been defeated, a mighty mercenary hoplite army could have been recruited. The Phoenician sailors and their admirals had, however, proved loyal to Artaxerxes and sailed south, toward Egypt and beyond Cyrus’ reach. Lysander has been defeated, Sparta had made the peace and Athenai’s triremes where now patrolling the Aegean, turning back any who might wish to enter the King of King’s service, limiting the Greek mercenaries they had indeed managed to recruit to mostly oligarchic exiles from Ionia and Caria. Worse, the siege of Babylon had bogged down and words of a mighty army gathering at Susa under Artaxerxes soon reached Aramnes’ ears... Fear had begun to grip the hearts of many of those who had been so confident of victory and some quickly began to despair.
As one of Cyrus’ main advisor Aramnes had done what he could to display confidence, to show a retained faith in final victory. Now, however, now that the pretender great army had reached Babylon and was arraying in front of his eyes, he had to admit, to himself if to no one else, that the situation was dire indeed. Not only did the pretender had amassed a great army but among the ranks of his supporters where many men who had fought since childhood, who had guarded Persia’s northeastern borders with fearsome Scythians and Massagetae, men who formed the flower of the Persia’s army. That army could simply not be defeated.
It could be, however, beheaded. At Aramnes’ suggestion the Greek mercenary Cyrus did have where massed in the center of his army, with one order and one order only: reach Artaxerxes and kill him.
Diomedes, son of Xanthipus
Diomedes’ father was a most devout man. Once, when Diomemes was but a small boy, a whim of his had lead him had lead him to decide that Diomedes needed to accompany him in the trip from his farm to Artemis’ great temple in Ephesos, where they would left some offerings for the goddess. As Diomedes’ father was busy giving proper due to the Lady of the Hunt his son noticed that some other devout believers had left some of the very honey cakes whom Diomedes loved so much. The future hoplite mercenary simply could not help himself and, before his father noticed what he was doing, had already swallowed enough to keep a grown man alive for a day. As soon as his father’s eyes had turned toward he had raised his arm in protection, anticipating the sound beating he was sure he was about to receive.
Instead, he simply heard his father’s voice, lower then a whisper, softer then silk but also colder then ice: ‘’You have offended a goddess boy, a being of a far higher state you can ever hope to reach! No man nor woman on earth knows when but she will have her revenge, do not doubt it! The only thing you can do is hope that she will be quickly sated!’’
At the time Diomedes had barely been able to hide a smug smile, believing he had escaped punishment for his misdeeds.
Now, however, now that he was probably living his last moments, Diomedes at last saw the truth of his father’s words.
A wealthy and aristocratic landowner he, like many others of his kind, had played a key role in the revolt against Athenai and had joyously welcomed Lysander and his Dekarky. Even when he had grown increasingly uneasy with their actions, and with the persecutions of Ephesos’ demokrats in particular he had held his tongue, and continued to stand behind the oligarchic regime. After all, it would have been foolish to do anything else, Sparta victory seemed so close…
Then, the winds of fate had blown it all away. The Great King had died, the Athenian fleet had won at Arginusae and Khalkedon and the Demokrats of Ephesos had risen to open the Polis’ doors to Athenai. Diomedes, like many others, could do nothing but flee. For a time he lived in quasi-poverty, with seemingly no prospect for the future, until the Morai seemed to smile on him once more. Cyrus the Younger was recruiting hoplites for his army, and, lusting after the throne of the Great Kings as he was, was willing to make truly extravagant promises to all who agreed to fight for him. Many did so, blind to the fact that they had taken their first steps toward Hades.
It was only a few hours ago, when he first saw Artaxerxes’ army, that Diomedes understood that Artemis’s vengeance was at hand. Soon he found himself in the hearth of the battle, in the thickest of the battle. He and his fellow Hellenes where surrounded by an ocean of men and found themselves the target of an hurricane of arrow. Desperately they continued to try to make their way to the Great King, paralyzed in place as he presumably did not dare take a further step back by fear of seeing his whole army routh. For what seemed eternities Diomedes continued to fight, the Great King seemed both so close and so far. For each he slayed another seemed to take his place and, then at last, he felt a sudden an intense pain coming from his side and he knew everything was over. In one last moment of defiance he threw his spear toward Artaxerxes, hurling it toward him rather then aiming him.
He did not live long enough to see that it had found his target.
Aremnes, son of Pamenes
As he looked around him Aremnes tought, with some irritation, that whether it was Ahura Mazda’s House of Song or the Elision of the Hellenes (1), the image most men would have of the land where the virtuous and the heroic went after their death would look allot like Cyrus’s camp. For a week music, laughter’s and joyful conversations could be heard everywhere one could turn his ears, as men indulged in all the pleasures this world had to offer while they discussed the glorious and prosperous future they would have at the side of the King of Kings.
Had the pretender died earlier Aramnes might have very well joined them. As things stood, however, too many loyal men had died under the walls of Babylon, and too many supporters of the pretenders had managed to flee. Too many men who had all to fear from their triumph and, even if pardoned, could expect themselves to be excluded from the halls of power, where still at large with steel in their hands and might still be willing to fight Cyrus. They should marching further south and east instead of feasting, securing Susa and Persepolis as well as the loyalty of most Persian nobles as fast as possible…
As he watched his king indulging himself in celebration of his victory in a war that had yet to be truly won Aramnes could only hope that the King of Kings’ foolishness would not cost them all too dearly.
Prince Oxathres
Oxathres and his brother Cyrus had never seen eye to eye. The Satrap of Lydia and, tough he did not know it at the time, future pretender, had always been too proud, too haughty too hot tempered to get along well with his younger brothers. Arsames, on the other hand, kind and gentle Arsames, had been everything an older brother should be. It was he who had accompanied Oxathres as he learned to ride and shot the bow, as he made his first steps in the road toward being a proper man and a proper prince. When Arsames had become Artaxerxes II, King of Kings, Oxathres had been among those who had knelt and cheered, convinced as he was that the Ahura Mazda would allow him to triumph him over Cyrus and the Lord of Lies (2).
The news of the Battle of Babylon turned Oxathres’ life upside down. In an instant, all certainties had died and Oxathres, alongside his younger siblings and a good portion of the Persian treasury, where smuggled out of the court by a handful of loyal minister. For days they fled ever more northward, every shadow seeming, in the young boy mind, to hide would be assassins.
Thus when, outside the wall of Ectabana, his group suddenly found themselves surrounded by lords of Bactria and Sogdiana, fierce in appearance and in reputations, drawing their swords Oxathres tough his last hour had come. To his own surprise however, they did not move to end his life but, instead, knelt and hailed him as Arthaxerxes III, King of Kings. The boy king was afraid, he could not deny it, but he did all he could not to show it. He would show himself a worthy successor of the true Cyrus, he would save his empire and he would avenge his brother.
___
In many ways Cyrus’ victory at Babylon proved to be a catastrophy for the Persian Empire. The death of Arthaxerxes II was enough to save Cyrus, for the time being at least, and open him the doors of Susa and Persepolis, giving him the throne he had long coveted. It was not, however, enough to ensure that allow him to sit at ease. His brother had escaped and, shielded by the satraps of the North-East, was proclaimed King of Kings as Artaxerxes III. Having a war chest of truly immense proportion at their disposal, as well as the loyalty of the flower of the Persian military and the best cavalrymen in the world, the enemies of Cyrus III fought on.
The next years would see the Achaemenid dynasty continue to tear itself appart, the absence of clear rules governing its successions coming, at last, back to haunt it. In truth, it is quite surprising that it took so long to do so.
Excerpt of The Great Persian Succession Crisis
(1) From my understanding more or less the Zoroastrian equivalent of heaven and the Olympian equivalent of Valhala, respectively, altough greek criteria to enter Elision where more based on overall virtue then simply on dying sword in hand.
(2) Again, more or less the Zoroastrian equivalent of God and Satan.
Author Note: A smaller update overall, in part due to the fact that my knowledge of Ancient Persian history doesn't allow me to go as deep into details then in Greek history, sadly. Next week we will handle the West before we return to Hellas, to cover the two defining events of the ATL early 3rd century BC Greek political history.
Chapter IV: The Shaky Throne
Aremnes, son of Pamenes
Some of the less perceptive minds around the Great King, Aramnes sometimes had to refrain himself from thinking younger minds, had managed to themselves that everything was going well.
In fairness, a few successes a few victories had, indeed been won. Betrayed by many of his subordinates, Pharnazabus had been forced to find refuge further east and the whole of the Persian Empire west of the Euphrates and north of Egypt soon found themselves recognising Cyrus as Great King. His army had then marched south, following the Euphrates with Susa has its final objectives. Babylon, the great city itself, now found itself besieged by Cyrus.
Aramnes, however, had lived long enough to see matters as they truly were, and to understand that winning a few battles was not enough to win the war. It was the mighty Phoenician triremes that Aremnes and his king had in mind when they courted the satrapes of the coast. With these ships in their possessions they would have been to add their numbers to Lysander’s fleet and, once they Athenians would have been defeated, a mighty mercenary hoplite army could have been recruited. The Phoenician sailors and their admirals had, however, proved loyal to Artaxerxes and sailed south, toward Egypt and beyond Cyrus’ reach. Lysander has been defeated, Sparta had made the peace and Athenai’s triremes where now patrolling the Aegean, turning back any who might wish to enter the King of King’s service, limiting the Greek mercenaries they had indeed managed to recruit to mostly oligarchic exiles from Ionia and Caria. Worse, the siege of Babylon had bogged down and words of a mighty army gathering at Susa under Artaxerxes soon reached Aramnes’ ears... Fear had begun to grip the hearts of many of those who had been so confident of victory and some quickly began to despair.
As one of Cyrus’ main advisor Aramnes had done what he could to display confidence, to show a retained faith in final victory. Now, however, now that the pretender great army had reached Babylon and was arraying in front of his eyes, he had to admit, to himself if to no one else, that the situation was dire indeed. Not only did the pretender had amassed a great army but among the ranks of his supporters where many men who had fought since childhood, who had guarded Persia’s northeastern borders with fearsome Scythians and Massagetae, men who formed the flower of the Persia’s army. That army could simply not be defeated.
It could be, however, beheaded. At Aramnes’ suggestion the Greek mercenary Cyrus did have where massed in the center of his army, with one order and one order only: reach Artaxerxes and kill him.
Diomedes, son of Xanthipus
Diomedes’ father was a most devout man. Once, when Diomemes was but a small boy, a whim of his had lead him had lead him to decide that Diomedes needed to accompany him in the trip from his farm to Artemis’ great temple in Ephesos, where they would left some offerings for the goddess. As Diomedes’ father was busy giving proper due to the Lady of the Hunt his son noticed that some other devout believers had left some of the very honey cakes whom Diomedes loved so much. The future hoplite mercenary simply could not help himself and, before his father noticed what he was doing, had already swallowed enough to keep a grown man alive for a day. As soon as his father’s eyes had turned toward he had raised his arm in protection, anticipating the sound beating he was sure he was about to receive.
Instead, he simply heard his father’s voice, lower then a whisper, softer then silk but also colder then ice: ‘’You have offended a goddess boy, a being of a far higher state you can ever hope to reach! No man nor woman on earth knows when but she will have her revenge, do not doubt it! The only thing you can do is hope that she will be quickly sated!’’
At the time Diomedes had barely been able to hide a smug smile, believing he had escaped punishment for his misdeeds.
Now, however, now that he was probably living his last moments, Diomedes at last saw the truth of his father’s words.
A wealthy and aristocratic landowner he, like many others of his kind, had played a key role in the revolt against Athenai and had joyously welcomed Lysander and his Dekarky. Even when he had grown increasingly uneasy with their actions, and with the persecutions of Ephesos’ demokrats in particular he had held his tongue, and continued to stand behind the oligarchic regime. After all, it would have been foolish to do anything else, Sparta victory seemed so close…
Then, the winds of fate had blown it all away. The Great King had died, the Athenian fleet had won at Arginusae and Khalkedon and the Demokrats of Ephesos had risen to open the Polis’ doors to Athenai. Diomedes, like many others, could do nothing but flee. For a time he lived in quasi-poverty, with seemingly no prospect for the future, until the Morai seemed to smile on him once more. Cyrus the Younger was recruiting hoplites for his army, and, lusting after the throne of the Great Kings as he was, was willing to make truly extravagant promises to all who agreed to fight for him. Many did so, blind to the fact that they had taken their first steps toward Hades.
It was only a few hours ago, when he first saw Artaxerxes’ army, that Diomedes understood that Artemis’s vengeance was at hand. Soon he found himself in the hearth of the battle, in the thickest of the battle. He and his fellow Hellenes where surrounded by an ocean of men and found themselves the target of an hurricane of arrow. Desperately they continued to try to make their way to the Great King, paralyzed in place as he presumably did not dare take a further step back by fear of seeing his whole army routh. For what seemed eternities Diomedes continued to fight, the Great King seemed both so close and so far. For each he slayed another seemed to take his place and, then at last, he felt a sudden an intense pain coming from his side and he knew everything was over. In one last moment of defiance he threw his spear toward Artaxerxes, hurling it toward him rather then aiming him.
He did not live long enough to see that it had found his target.
Aremnes, son of Pamenes
As he looked around him Aremnes tought, with some irritation, that whether it was Ahura Mazda’s House of Song or the Elision of the Hellenes (1), the image most men would have of the land where the virtuous and the heroic went after their death would look allot like Cyrus’s camp. For a week music, laughter’s and joyful conversations could be heard everywhere one could turn his ears, as men indulged in all the pleasures this world had to offer while they discussed the glorious and prosperous future they would have at the side of the King of Kings.
Had the pretender died earlier Aramnes might have very well joined them. As things stood, however, too many loyal men had died under the walls of Babylon, and too many supporters of the pretenders had managed to flee. Too many men who had all to fear from their triumph and, even if pardoned, could expect themselves to be excluded from the halls of power, where still at large with steel in their hands and might still be willing to fight Cyrus. They should marching further south and east instead of feasting, securing Susa and Persepolis as well as the loyalty of most Persian nobles as fast as possible…
As he watched his king indulging himself in celebration of his victory in a war that had yet to be truly won Aramnes could only hope that the King of Kings’ foolishness would not cost them all too dearly.
Prince Oxathres
Oxathres and his brother Cyrus had never seen eye to eye. The Satrap of Lydia and, tough he did not know it at the time, future pretender, had always been too proud, too haughty too hot tempered to get along well with his younger brothers. Arsames, on the other hand, kind and gentle Arsames, had been everything an older brother should be. It was he who had accompanied Oxathres as he learned to ride and shot the bow, as he made his first steps in the road toward being a proper man and a proper prince. When Arsames had become Artaxerxes II, King of Kings, Oxathres had been among those who had knelt and cheered, convinced as he was that the Ahura Mazda would allow him to triumph him over Cyrus and the Lord of Lies (2).
The news of the Battle of Babylon turned Oxathres’ life upside down. In an instant, all certainties had died and Oxathres, alongside his younger siblings and a good portion of the Persian treasury, where smuggled out of the court by a handful of loyal minister. For days they fled ever more northward, every shadow seeming, in the young boy mind, to hide would be assassins.
Thus when, outside the wall of Ectabana, his group suddenly found themselves surrounded by lords of Bactria and Sogdiana, fierce in appearance and in reputations, drawing their swords Oxathres tough his last hour had come. To his own surprise however, they did not move to end his life but, instead, knelt and hailed him as Arthaxerxes III, King of Kings. The boy king was afraid, he could not deny it, but he did all he could not to show it. He would show himself a worthy successor of the true Cyrus, he would save his empire and he would avenge his brother.
___
In many ways Cyrus’ victory at Babylon proved to be a catastrophy for the Persian Empire. The death of Arthaxerxes II was enough to save Cyrus, for the time being at least, and open him the doors of Susa and Persepolis, giving him the throne he had long coveted. It was not, however, enough to ensure that allow him to sit at ease. His brother had escaped and, shielded by the satraps of the North-East, was proclaimed King of Kings as Artaxerxes III. Having a war chest of truly immense proportion at their disposal, as well as the loyalty of the flower of the Persian military and the best cavalrymen in the world, the enemies of Cyrus III fought on.
The next years would see the Achaemenid dynasty continue to tear itself appart, the absence of clear rules governing its successions coming, at last, back to haunt it. In truth, it is quite surprising that it took so long to do so.
Excerpt of The Great Persian Succession Crisis
(1) From my understanding more or less the Zoroastrian equivalent of heaven and the Olympian equivalent of Valhala, respectively, altough greek criteria to enter Elision where more based on overall virtue then simply on dying sword in hand.
(2) Again, more or less the Zoroastrian equivalent of God and Satan.
Author Note: A smaller update overall, in part due to the fact that my knowledge of Ancient Persian history doesn't allow me to go as deep into details then in Greek history, sadly. Next week we will handle the West before we return to Hellas, to cover the two defining events of the ATL early 3rd century BC Greek political history.
Great update Phil!
While I doubt the Achaemenid Empire would completely collapse following a second Civil War, I do think that some of the periphery territories might break free with Egypt and Anatolia being the most likely.
While I doubt the Achaemenid Empire would completely collapse following a second Civil War, I do think that some of the periphery territories might break free with Egypt and Anatolia being the most likely.
Thank you
And yes, while the Persian Empire is probably too formidable succomb completely a more prolonged civil war will, undoutebly, cause issues. Hell, even in OTL with a quick victory by Artaxerxes there were disorders. Most notably, Egypt rose in revolt once more and was only in 343 BC! While Alexander should, of course, get due credit for his victories I do believe it is fair to say the Persian Empire was showing signs of weakness far before he came to the scene.
The one OTL paralel we have for ITTL succession war would probably be the period between Cambyses I's death and the return to stability under Darius the Great. While Persia managed to overcome that particular rocky period it is definitely possible to make the argument that allot of his recovery was due to Darius' leadership. How the Persian Empire would manage to deal with those challenges without such a leader is open to question, for now
More generally, I do hope that everyone reading is enjoying the TL. Comments, constructive criticisms, suggestions and ideas as to what you would eventually like to see covered are all welcome!
I most certainly did not hint that Laconophiles (the term often used to describe people admiring Sparta) are necessarely racist. In fact, I specifically blamed the inacurate portrayal of Sparta in pop culture for its popularity. For further clarification I would also say that I don't blame the peoples creating said content for anything beyond not doing their historical research, and even then it depend as when some them state they do not pretend to be historically accurate my reaction tend to be ''fair enough". At the end of the day, portrayals of Sparta that gloss on its most unpleasant aspect goes way back, current day pop culture simply keep going with that tradition.
I also have very much not aluded to current events, as I do agree that it would not make much sense and it isn't allowed outside of chat.
Regarding the comparaison with the Confederacy, I am definitely not doing anything original by using the concept of Slave society to describe Sparta and analyse its society. In that regard, like with pretty much everything else in this TL really, I am simply going with whatever take the academic world judge credible currently and that seemed persuasive when I heard/read it. Since that concept was essentially created to describe the South it was, to some degree, inevitable that the comparaison would come up in the discussion, if only briefly.
At the end of the day I very much do not judge people who like Sparta on a personal level simply for having that opinion, and I do disaprove of the instances when that happen. They are simply people I have an intelectual disagreement, nothing more, and I am always willing to have a good discussion with them, as shown by my response to @Don Quijote own comment where he came to Sparta's defense. You, and any other Laconophiles, are more then welcome to the thread and I do find it unfortunate if it might appear otherwise as it definitely was not my intent.
Now, obviously my own historical opinions will probably shine in the TL, something that is probably inevitable for any AH writer, so you and others who like Sparta might disagree with how I handle it from time to time. I can only hope you, and other Laconophiles, would be able to enjoy the TL. At the very least, I can promise to honestly consider any feedback you and others might provide regarding how Sparta is depicted. I do want to do a good job writing the TL and that include avoiding caricaturing Sparta, despite being more of a pro-Athens bend myself.
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I hop the flute wasn’t played at my main man Alkibiades’ funeral . RIP my boy, may the Herms (that you definitely didn’t desecrate) lead you to Elysian Fields.
On another note... awesome TL! Love everything Peloponnesian Wars related. I’m eagerly waiting for more!
Side note, I think you misspelt Pharnabazus as ’Pharnazabus’ in the second chapter.
. RIP my boy, may the Herms (that you definitely didn’t desecrate) lead you to Elysian Fields.On another note... awesome TL! Love everything Peloponnesian Wars related. I’m eagerly waiting for more!
Side note, I think you misspelt Pharnabazus as ’Pharnazabus’ in the second chapter.
Thanks allot for your keen eye, chapter II will be modified accordinglyI hop the flute wasn’t played at my main man Alkibiades’ funeral
On another note... awesome TL! Love everything Peloponnesian Wars related. I’m eagerly waiting for more!
Side note, I think you misspelt Pharnabazus as ’Pharnazabus’ in the second chapter.
, and I hope you will enjoy what is to come. Without revealing to come, lets just say that the end of the Peloponesian War did not bring durable peace to Greece in OTL and its sure as hell not gonna do so ITTL The more thing goes the more I believe I have changed my mind and that we are going back to Hellas proper next update but, as stated above, I am always open to suggestion as to what peoples would like to see covered.
As for Alcibiades, I am affraid he has indeed left the scene. When writing the Battle of Chalcedon I was worried that killing both admirals was a bit much but I decided to go ahead with it at the end, as I felt that killing two titans of OTL Hellenic politics did give it a properly titanic feel I felt was appropriate narritively for the last battle of the Peloponesian War ITTL.
Alcibiades did, however, manage to leave his old brother at arms and political ally Thrasybulus in a dominant position in Athenian politics (as we will see next time we will go there). Moreover, he will now also be remembered as the man who won the battle that finally allowed Athens to leave the war with most of her empire intact, with one last diplomatic magic trick (getting persian gold for Athens' war effort) to cap his career. His role in helping Sparta's war party get its way in general, as well as bring about a Spartan intervention in Sicily and the occupation of Decelia won't be completely forgotten in Athens but they will be far less resented, as their final consequences for the city would be far less dire and he, himself, ending playing a crucial role in allowing Athens to survive the last stage of the war. I'd also expect his role to bring about the Battle of Mantinea, and how close it came to give Athens total victory, play a far more important in how Alcibiades will be remembered by his contemporaries compared to OTL.
Of course, there is a trade off as he will be even more thorougly hated by Sparta and her supporters then in OTL for (re)defection to Athens but, overally, they did already seemed to despise him in OTL so they're won't be any massive changes in how he is remembered from that corner.
He did die one year earlier then in OTL but, all and all, I do feel he would have gone with ITTL rather then OTL if given the choice.
For what's its worth I also agree with you on the Hermes. From the moment he heard of it Alcibiades knew he would be the first suspected because of his reputation. Whie he was definitely not averse to take some risks there is simply no way he would have done something that would have inevitable put his political career, and his life, in grave danger while also not offering any tangible benefit.
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