The Queen of Sparta (21 page)

CHAPTER 25

THEN EVERYTHING CHANGED

Sparta

Three days later

There was a knock on the door. It was Agathe. She was wearing a white dress instead of her customary dark gown, and had flowers in her hair.

“Highness,” she said, bowing low. “Her Majesty desires the pleasure of your company at her table.”

Sherzada was curious, for he knew the dates of all the Spartan festivals, and none fell on this day. Despite the late hour he followed Agathe into the grounds of the compound, where he found scores of Helots all dressed in white; the men wearing improvised laurels on their heads, and the women, like Agathe, flowers in their hair. They all seemed to be busy preparing food – barbequing slaughtered sheep, cooking great batches of soup and baking what smelled to be some kind of spinach bread. There was music and laughter, and an extraordinary feeling of possibility and freedom in the air.

Upon entering Gorgo’s apartment, Sherzada found the hearth room full of people, mostly Helots with only a few Spartans. Some of the Helots were dancing; others were clapping, sitting nearby on the bare floor. Gorgo sat in the centre listening to a harp playing, flanked by her cousins. Euro was beaming, but Pausanias looked bored. Pausanias’ younger brother, Nicomedes, was there too. And the bewildered expression on the youth’s face summed it all. Sherzada was not the only one confused. But not Gorgo. She smiled triumphantly as her eyes met Sherzada’s.

“I’m glad you could join our celebrations, my Prince,” she said, motioning him to sit.

He came and sat down on a chair next to her and asked her what she was celebrating.

“Taking your advice, my Prince.”

Seeing Sherzada’s muddled expression, Gorgo asked him if he remembered their discussion about the ancient Law Code of Lycurgus. “Every year,” she said, “around this time, the Ephors declare war on the Helots. This is a tradition that goes back nearly two centuries, when the last Helot revolt was crushed. But it is not part of the Lycurgan Code. This declaration of war gives Spartans the legal right, if they so wish, to kill Helots. It is under this legal cover that the Crypteia squads of the best of Sparta’s young military graduates go out on their assassination missions. Well, I have begun to change all that.”

Sherzada’s eyes widened and a smile broke out on his face. “How did you manage that?”

Gorgo described how she had convinced the Elders to pass a law forbidding the Ephors from making this declaration this year. “It was not easy but they relented in the end,” she said. As soon as the law was passed, she explained, the War Council forbade all Crypteia missions against the Helots. Instead, the Crypteia would be send across Sparta’s border to collect intelligence and provide early warning against possible threats to Sparta. “Something they ought to have been doing from the start,” she concluded.

“But this is only for one year,” Sherzada pointed out.

“Indeed. Still, it is a start. If we can manage to repeat it every year, Spartans will get used to it.”

Euro leaned over and said, “This is not the only thing my royal cousin is celebrating.”

Sherzada looked at Gorgo and found a mischievous glint in her eyes. She explained that Athens’ former leader Themistocles was trying to make another bid for power in the run up to their elections. This time he was building his political campaign around xenophobia, particularly playing on suspicions about Sparta. He was trying to blame all Athens’ ills on Spartan conspiracies.

“And you really think your plan will work?” asked Pausanias.

“It is already working.” Gorgo said that Themistocles had been behind the Athenians’ push to take over the command of the Hellenic Fleet from the Spartans. “Because this issue is so close to his heart, I have invited Themistocles here to discuss the possible division of the command of the Hellenic fleet. Today, I received confirmation that he is on his way.”

“Of course, when he comes he will not get everything he wants, but just enough to save his sorry face. The victor of Salamis, however, will be feted like a god here; showered with honours and gifts. And hints will be sent back to Athens that he has also been given a hefty bribe, which he will indeed be offered. Even if he refuses, I will see to it that all his enemies in Athens believe that he accepted it under the table.”

“You want to shut him up?” asked Sherzada, smiling.

Gorgo laughed. “No one will believe him after that. They will see him every bit a part of the very conspiracies he is construing. Our alliance with Athens has to be maintained at all costs. And if it is comes at the cost of muzzling an irritating spoiler like Themistocles, so be it.”

Pausanias shook his head. “I still do not trust the Athenians. Sooner or later they will challenge us for the control of Greece.”

“The solution, dear Cousin,” replied Gorgo, “lies in neither of us controlling Greece but both Athens and Sparta working together to ensure its security. All we need do is prevent mavericks like Themistocles from rocking the boat.”

Pausanias got up, shaking his head. “You are too trusting, cousin, when it comes to the Athenians.” He gave her a fleeting kiss on the forehead, and left.

“Oh dear Pausanias,” she said, “How easily you are ruled by the heart.”

Turning to Sherzada, she said, “So, my Prince what do you think about the changes I have begun to make around here? This is only the beginning. Will you stay and assist me? You see things differently, and that helps me no end.”

Sherzada did not know how to respond.

But Gorgo continued to explain all the plans she had in mind not only to stop the brutalities against the Helots, but also to win some privileges for the ‘inferiors’ –
Hypomeiones
and the ‘illegitimates’ –
Mothoi
. “These people should live a life of dignity and have a stake in the betterment of Sparta.”

She moved closer and continued to tell him her plans. She was feverish with enthusiasm, plotting to change Sparta’s course forever and soliciting Sherzada’s help in doing so. He too felt her infectious enthusiasm, though he warned her to be cautious. “Remember the fate of your father.”

Late into the night, Agathe went out to fetch more food. She returned with a tray of honey-cakes and accompanied by an older Helot. In his late forties, he was short and thin, with a shaggy and uneven stubble across his face. He approached Gorgo in a submissive posture, his eyes fixed to the ground. Then he fell on his knees and kissed the Queen’s hands.

Gorgo smiled. “I am glad you could make it, Menander.” Turning to Sherzada she said, “My Prince, I would like you to meet my most trusted servant. He accompanied my husband to Thermopylae.”

Sherzada smiled politely as the man’s eyes met his. But he was not prepared for what followed.

CHAPTER 26

THE HOT GATES

A few moments later

“If you ever wished for reason to kill me, my Queen, you have it now,” he said.

“Tell me about Thermopylae. I want to know everything!” Gorgo voice was restrained, though not without a touch of menace.

Moments earlier, when Menander had made his accusation, Gorgo told him and Sherzada to quietly get up and follow her. And so Sherzada had followed her, out of her apartment, past the revelling Helots, right back to Sherzada’s old prison cell.

‘
Molon Labe!
’

This had been his reply to Xerxes’ command for the Greeks to lay down their arms. When he asked me translate what the Spartan warrior had said, I told the Great King to ‘come and get them’.

Xerxes swore with rage in his eyes, ‘For that, I shall take his head.’

There was no doubt in my mind that the Spartan warrior who had said those words was King Leonidas. He was dressed in his long dark crimson cloak, the colour of which matched the sideways crest on his helmet.

Xerxes had taken the better part of five days to deploy his troops at the front of the narrow Pass of Thermopylae – the “Hot Gates”, so the Greeks could see what they were up against. There might have been only three hundred Spartans there, but they were backed up by 2,000 Helots and perhaps a few hundred Perioiki and a contingent of over a dozen Greek cities. All in all, around 8,000 Greeks faced a hundred thousand Persians – not the million men you Greeks talk of, but still the odds were formidable.

So on that first day of battle, Xerxes ordered some of his best troops – the Medes of Western Iran and the Persian-speaking Cissians of Elam – to force their way through Thermopylae. The Pass was well chosen by King Leonidas because its mouth on one side was a steep ridge and on the other a deep cliff. Within the Pass itself, the narrow spaces meant that the numerical superiority of Persia’s forces counted for nothing. Leonidas had prepared his positions well. He had constructed a broad wall inside the entrance of the pass, behind which the Greeks waited to repulse the enemy attacks. The lightly armoured Medes and Cissians carried shields of wicker which could not protect them against the powerful spear thrusts of the Greeks. And in that narrow pass, the Persian numerical advantage was for nought. The result was a massacre. Scores dead within minutes. But these men of Iran had preferred to die than to retreat.

As the Medes and the Cissians fell, the Persian King sent in more men – and then even more – under a constant barrage of arrows from tens of thousands of Persian bows. A Greek warrior was heard to complain that there were so many arrows that they were blocking out the sun. A Spartan warrior responded, ‘so much the better; then we can fight in the shade.’ Yet the waves upon waves of Persians could not make any dent in the Greek defences.

Successive contingents of the Persian army went through that narrow space towards the Greeks, like lambs to slaughter. They paid dearly for Xerxes’ folly. Panic began to take hold of the Persian front lines, and many started to flee. Xerxes ordered his personal guards to whip the troops running from the fight and force them to return. And heroically, the Greeks beat off one attack after another.

Throughout the day, King Leonidas had been rotating his troops at the wall, so that they would not tire. He had let the allied Greeks fight for most of the day, keeping his Spartans in reserve. But as the sun began its descent, he ordered his Spartans to the front lines. I watched as the Three Hundred took up their positions, wearing their crimson cloaks, carrying their bronze-covered shields with the
Lamda
insignia of Lacadaemon, their magnificent horse-hair crests above their helmets making them appear taller and even more impressive. On their flanks were the Helots, in animal skins, armed only with javelins and slingshots. Against these men, Xerxes decided to send the very best of his troops; his elite bodyguard the Anusiya, whom the Greeks call the ‘Immortals’.

Demaratus warned Xerxes not to underestimate the discipline and training of the Spartans. He said that the Persians were facing the best warriors in Greece, but the Great King paid no heed. And so he watched as his proud Anusiya fell victim to Leonidas’ many stratagems, including luring them into believing they had the upper hand, only to turn the tables when they least expected it. Needless to say, the Anusiya were mercilessly mauled by the Spartans; the cream of the Persian Army falling in their scores, though not without courage.

And the Spartans fought with confidence and exceptional skill in that cramped crevice of Thermopylae. As they gained the upper hand they charged into the Persian ranks, pushing some of the Persian troops off the cliffs, down into the Gulf of Malia below. With the battle-line of the Anusiya on the verge of collapse, I was ordered to lead my Sakas to help stabilize the Persian line. We managed to push your warriors back behind their defensive wall, losing many of our best men in the process. And still the Spartans fought back. If their spearheads were hacked off, they reversed the spears and fought with metal spikes which were just as lethal as the iron spear-points. Any wounded enemy unlucky enough to fall under their feet would be butt-spiked to death – I believe the term your warriors use for that is
lizarding
. And when their weapons failed, the Spartans would scratch, kick, and bite. Even at the point of death, a Spartan could take several enemy warriors with him to Hades.

Thus, in spite of the heavy odds against them, the Spartans continued to deal death to their enemies. In the midst of battle, they sang their haunting hymns
.
Had the battle continued, I was not sure my Sakas could hold the line. But, to my relief, as the sun went down, and the dead lay in piles before Leonidas’ wall, a retreat was called on the Persian side.

Later that night, many of Xerxes’ advisors and generals tried to convince him to take an alternative route south, through Aetolia, avoiding the Spartans altogether. But Xerxes called it cowardice. He would not rest until he had killed Leonidas. He commanded me to pick my troops and seize the wall from the Spartans.

At first light, I went through all the regiments to choose my force. Since most of the “Persian army” was lightly armed, I looked for those more heavily equipped, and especially those who were proficient with certain types of weapons. Virtually all of these were found in the “foreign” contingents. From Africa, I selected the Cushites who fought with the heavy spear and the Libyans, wielding their double-handed
khopesh
sickle-swords. I also chose the warlike tribesmen from the hills of Assur – the last of the Assyrians – who carried huge clubs studded with iron spikes; and a small band of the long-haired Cimmerians – also the last of their kind – who fought with metal-cleaving broadswords. I selected men from amongst my distant kin from the north the Amyrgians Sakas, carrying their large war-axes – the
mahasigareis
. And to them I added our neighbours to the West of the Indus: the warriors of Gandhara, the fierce Pactiyans as well as the hardy Dadicans who carried sledge hammers into battle. Needless to say, my own Royal Sakas followed me. I told these men to take up their heavy weapons and literally smash their way through the Greek lines.

First, though, we had to negotiate the stacks of bodies of the Persian dead piled up against the wall. The stench was unbearable; a macabre testament to the deadly skill of the Spartans. Still, the momentum of our attack was strong, and tactics of fighting like the Greeks in close order, using our heavy weapons to snap the Spartan spears and cleave apart their shields, carried us over the wall, pushing the Spartans back. It seemed we were beating the invincible Spartans.

Suddenly, the Spartans broke off the engagement and began to flee. Shouts of encouragement and war-cries from my men echoed across the narrow walls of the pass as we chased after them, thirsty for blood. But this was Leonidas’ ploy to lure us deep into the narrow pass, where, ironically, the Greeks, and not us, would have numerical superiority. It was also a place where the Persian archers could not see, let alone hit, their targets. So, as we reached that point, the fleeing Spartans turned and charged us. They were joined by other Greeks who fell on us without mercy. The space was so narrow that there was not enough room for us to wield our doubled-handed weapons, nor did we have any shields to protect ourselves. Many were cut down by the efficient short-swords – the
Xiphé
– of your Spartans. Thus, the Greeks forced us back to the wall.

I sent a runner back to Xerxes to request reinforcements. But none came. So I rallied my troops and led them in another charge against the Spartans. Once more we forced them to retreat, at terrible cost to ourselves. But this time we did not follow them into their killing zone. We stopped, instead, and awaited their counter-assault. It was not long before it came, but not in the manner I had expected.

First, we found ourselves subject to missile attacks – slingshots, rocks, light javelins; though no arrows. Hurling things at the enemy, rather than fighting them hand to hand, was not the Spartan way, I knew. But it was effective, inflicting casualties on those who were not so well-protected. After a while, the rain of projectiles stopped.

Then I heard a war-cry:
Messene, Hellas, Eleutheria
– ‘Messene, Greece, Liberty’ – and I saw them come. I understood, at last, that those who were attacking us were not Spartans at all. Hundreds of Messenian Helots charged us, in a disorganized mob. Some had picked up the spears, swords, and shields of fallen Greeks but most had no protection whatsoever and many were armed only with rocks and sticks. I told my men to close ranks. These Helots lacked the skill and discipline of the Spartans, but they did not want for courage. They attacked us knowing they would be cut down like corn before a scythe. And fall they did under our merciless blows.

These young Messenian slaves died for freedom, just as bravely as free-born Spartans, with honour, without hesitation, as our equals, and thus bought for themselves in death what they could never have won in life. Magnificent; glorious, but alas, it was nothing but slaughter; and I took no pleasure in it.

But the suicidal charge of the Helots gave the Spartans and their allies a pause to recover and reform. No sooner had we stopped massacring the Messenians than the Greeks were already upon us. We were in no position to resist. I was hoping that Xerxes would send us reinforcements so we could hold on to the wall. But none came. Since Xerxes was not interested in supporting us, I ordered my troops to fall back.

The Persians, however, renewed their attempt to take the wall, but well after my men had withdrawn. It seemed they did not want risk their troops to save the lives of mine. The Persians, in their turn, failed even to take wall. I was furious at their incompetence and arrogance. We had lost good men and still had nothing to show for it. Xerxes, by contrast, was delighted. He called me to his tent and congratulated me for proving that the wall could be taken and the Spartans could be pushed back. He said that in return for my impressive feat, he would give my Sakas the honor of defending the King’s tent for the rest of the battle. He was sending his Anusiya on a special mission, or so he told me. He seemed very pleased with himself. I found out later what had happened. The pass had been betrayed. A local shepherd had showed a way to other side of the Pass.

Once King Leonidas had learnt that the Persians had found a way to attack his rear, he urged all non-Spartan contingents to leave in order to preserve most of the Greek force. It was said the Mantineans were the first to leave, and then the rest followed; many reluctantly. Only the few hundred Thespieans and Thebans stayed behind to fight alongside the Spartan; as did some eighty Mycenaean Knights – men who guarded their city’s famed Lion Gate. Thus far the Greeks had been fighting from behind the wall. But as soon as most of his allies began to withdraw, Leonidas led those who remained in a mighty charge from the wall, of all places, against the Great King’s own tent – where my Sakas stood guard.