Chapter 2 continues

     So it was, Officer Sparta rode on and on, mile after mile, in the saddle, harsh winds blowing in a gale force down Mt. Parnon. Only through her determined will, and super-human strength, Sparta, astride her faithful steed Saxet, made it to the main road of the sleeping city; which was covered in a fresh blanket of snow, late that night as the citizens all nestled down in their warm homes in front of the hearth in the glow of the fire, still unknowing, completely unaware of the tragedy which had befallen their brave king. At long last Officer Sparta arrived at the palace, in an exhausted heap, Saxet collapsing to his knees breathing hard, Sparta took a tumble knocked to the ground before the great doors, where the stunned guards lifted up the bloodied corpse of their king. An uproar of voices echoed up from the city streets for when the charioteers stopped, resting their teams of horses at the garrison, informing the remaining Captains of the Army stationed just outside the city, the news traveled like a wildfire. Sparta, weighed down by her heavy armor and weapons, removed her helmet tossing it in anger at the ground, here she suddenly felt a severe pain in her leg as she knelt for a moment, a loud ringing in her ears, her body utterly numb, then Officer Sparta realized she had a serious gash above her right knee as she struggled to stand. There before her eyes her loyal horse, Saxet, let out loud gasps of hot breaths, against the freezing ice and wind. Sparta stood in great discomfort as she commanded her steed to rise, using her last bit of strength to assist Saxet in doing so, quickly Sparta let him lose of the burden of his saddle and reins, calling for the stable hands to take charge as she limped towards the guards.
     Here the Captain of the Palace Guard, Brittas, ran out into the cold dark night bearing a flaming torch and his old eyes were sore afraid for he saw the dead body of his lord and master being carried off, then out upon the snow covered ground he found young Sparta, half dead, and freezing, soaked in the blood of her father, mingled with her own. "Princess Sparta!" he cried out against the blowing north wind.
     Here Sparta turned, moving slowly towards the tall, broad shouldered man she knew since childhood, whereupon she threw her arms around his neck for support, falling into arms shivering like a frightened animal crying out with a loud voice "Oh Brittas! My father is no more! Never again shall I see his sweet smile, or hear his laughter, nor see his face alight with joy!" Sparta wept burying her head on his shoulder.
     "There, there, my dearest girl, you have done well to bring your father home, let that be a small bit of warmth to seal deep in your heart forever." Captain Brittas encouraged her doing his best to comfort her with his strength and love, though his heart was devastated by this tragic turn of affairs. "Yet you, yourself, are wounded and must be attended to by the physicians, come let me help lead you inside, to warmth and comfort, where you shall have a nice hot bath and wash away the gore of war."
     "Brittas, I fear I cannot move, for my heart is truly broken, my bones are frozen, my mind is in a haze, as if I have been overcome by a poisonous wine. An unholy vintage, procured in blood, of which I have been found by the gods most worthy to drink."
    "One day, Dear Sparta, you will find peace," he reassured her "Yet until that day, you must come inside and be tended to, for today you are a Princess, tomorrow you shall be Queen." here he ushered her forth into the warmth inside the walls of the palace, supporting her every step as the task of walking was almost impossible, her muscles tight and aching with every movement or each step she tried to take.
     "Lead me to the bedside of my father, Brittas, I pray thee, I must to be there to watch over him."
     Captain Brittas paused turning her in the opposite direction of the King's bedchamber. "I am afraid you shall not be permitted to take part in the death ceremony, the Holy Rites of Sanctification." he said in a low calm voice much to her disdain "No one but the priests shall pass." here a terrible look of furious anger swept over her face with a bitterness old Brittas had never seen as she spoke in a loud voice.
     "I have come to my family's home, the Royal Palace, bearing the body of my father, the most highly exalted King, who has given his life out of Unity, Loyalty, Respect and Honor to his Country and her people. Yet, even-still, I, as his Royal Daughter, Rightful Heiress to the Ancient Thrones of Laconian and Themiscyra, shall not pass!?" she said with much indignation.
     Here a passing priest ran to the calamity of her plaintiff voice, explaining to Sparta that she was yet still soaked in blood, unclean, not worthy for the ancient ceremony for the dead.
     "If I am unclean and not worthy.., as you say, then let me return to the fighting once again."
     "No.., you must NOT return to the field of battle, until you have been purified, anointed and wear the crown" Captain Brittas exclaimed. "You, yourself, must be cleansed and purified for the coronation ceremony which will come to pass at the first light of dawn.
     "My brother Prince Therakles still remains fighting." she countered.
     "He is being recalled from battle, presently."
     "Then I shall retire to the military barracks, and await the returning troops of my division and the Generals commands." Sparta swayed her speech coming in short breaths
     "Oh no, you most loyal and noble warrior, you are the Royal Daughter of King Vyales and Queen Thera, no longer will you keep company with the troops, you shall return to live in the palace, for this night your entire world, and way of living, will change forever, it shall soon be you who gives the orders. You shall be given the Ritual Purification baths, to be cleansed and anointed with oils, you will be draped in gold and jewels, many presents shall your people bring, you shall be dressed like a Noble Queen.Tomorrow, in the first light of morning you are to be brought before the altar of Zeus, alongside your brother, you both shall be crowned, together, before all the people. So you will no longer be required to sleep in the military barracks with your fellow officers of your division. No.You must take up residence here to take control over the Reign of your father, upholding the policies King Vyakles has been able, with great courage, to maintain. So now, away with you, let the priests perform their sacred tasks as you, yourself, must prepare your heart and mind for the monarchy. Use the anger and rage brewing inside you as a force of energy, a useful source, you can focus into leading this Great Nation through these troubling times. For you, Dear Sparta, have the strength and courage of a lion, let there be only Death and Misery to those who oppose you. Now come hither, let the maidens of the house entreat you with a warm bath, you must eat and drink of the living water, you must rest. Tomorrow shall find you with many decisions to be made, as you shall be engaged by the Council of War all day. Go here with Traverios." he paused beckoning to the young Royal Physician.
     "I have now only heard! Princess Sparta, come let me cleanse and tend to your wounds."
     "I am in great pain Traverios, my head spins, my sight grows dim." she said nearly fainting, here the tall and able bodied physician swept her up into his strong arms telling her in a soothing voice "I will wash away the blood and sweat from your body, and give you medicines to ease your pain. We shall easy your misery, for you have been blessed by the Fates with the Supreme Honor to Rule by the hand of Destiny." here Sparta closed her eyes and for the first time that long, misery filled, day she finally felt safe.

Chapter 2 begins

     "The King has fallen!" came harried shouts down the line of fighting. Sparta turned her head, soaked in the blood of her enemies, sitting atop her war horse slashing with the her sword into the endless horde of Macedonian soldiers who, when they heard the news from the battle field that King Vyakles had been cut down, intensified their aggression. So it was with great force, fueled by the insatiable lust for blood on both sides, the pitch of battle grew into vicious brutality. During the fevered intensity of warfare the King of Macedon's troops, with their deadly sarissa, forced Sparta to divert her steed, Saxet, in a tight turn against battle formation."Follow me!" Sparta cried out to her comrades in arms, who turned post haste along with her in the new plan of attack. Sparta drove her black steed, Saxet, with such unstoppable momentum, a thunderous surge of power, the Macedonians were unprepared for, nor could they push back or resist, as the Royal Daughter of the King urged her mount closer to the body of her father. This is where Sparta's heart stopped for a moment as an icy wave filled her veins, and for a brief few seconds, time appeared to stand still, as she moved through space, the raging battle moving in slow motion as the screams of the horses and dying men came to her numb ears in a low rumble as if she were listening from underwater.
     "Father!" Sparta shouted out galloping off through a line of forty enemy soldiers, putting her own life at risk, yet she was well trained, skilled at the Art of War and deadly with her sharpened cyphos as she cut down all those who opposed her amid the bloodshed of her anger and rage. Transforming herself into the personification of desolation and decimation, that fateful day, there in the chaos; which soon erupted thereafter whence her father, the King of Sparta, was slain, along with those thousands, upon thousands, of Souls, from each side, who were dispatched from the Land of the Living, fighting with honor and glory. All while Cavalry Officer Sparta drove her war horse, Saxet, and those troops committed to her noble cause, in a maelstrom of thunder, proceeding forth with the speed of eagles, through bitter weather, as they slammed into the bodies of the enemy with great force, thirty fellow officers stampeding their war horses behind her, hell bent on the destruction of their foes, the fatal blows of the hooves coming down hard, crunching bones and skulls, blood and brains into the cold hard earth; which ran in deep dark waves of scarlet and crimson. Slashing and stabbing Sparta called out "We must protect his body!DO NOT LET OUR NOBLE KING BE DELIVERED INTO THE HANDS OF OUR ENEMY!"
     Here General Scotia ordered 100 of her charioteers to drive into the front line from the north. Commanding her troops "We will come upon them like an all consuming fire! Our chariots a whirlwind of destruction. Then we shall all look upon the carcasses of those who have transgressed against us!"
       So it came to pass, in a clash of violence and chaos, the Macedon's were utterly crushed by the thundering hooves of the war horses, run down under the wheels of the war machines, the archers of the Themiscyran Division letting out volleys of arrows to blot out the sun. The weapons offered against the finely crafted chariots were weak and ineffective, the sarissa were found to snap in half, leaving the foreign soldiers to fight with their short swords and small shields in close combat. The momentum of the battle shifted leaving the Army of Thebes and the Macedonians outnumbered, and losing ground quickly, whereupon many of Phillips troops became frightened and confused amid the fog of war; which crept into their spirits. So it was hundreds turned and ran trying to flee to the mountainside where they might find shelter and safety, to hide away from the destruction. However, the 4000 support troops yet to be engaged in battle rode off after each and everyone of the enemies, those cowards who would flee from the field of war, in shame. The Athenians and Spartans made sure, good and well, that they all died with arrows and stab wounds in their backs before the winter sun went down that day.

     "Sparta!" her brother, Therakles exclaimed grabbing her hand as he and 5 other soldiers slung the body of their dead king upon her mounts saddle. The lifeless body of Vyakles, her beloved father, draped across her legs as she used all her strength to keep him from falling down to the cold hard ground stained in vast streaks of scarlet and crimson, as she was escorted by six chariots from the Themiscyran Division their brave archers keeping up a deadly volley against the pursuing enemy troops. As Officer Sparta proceeded south, back towards her native land, tears streaming down her cheeks, she was quite unable to shake this shock though she was well trained in the Art of War, her mind was unable to comprehend, nor conceive, what had transpired that fatal day never knowing the ill will of the Fates; whom had conspired against her, her nation and her family. Sparta tried to breath as she prayed this was all just a terrible nightmare of a dream. Yet the smell of blood, sweat and death, the lifeless body of her father across her lap, the throbbing in her head, the pain in her stomach, was all too real. So she drew up all her courage and committed herself to the mission of hurrying the corpse of her father King Vyakles back to the palace where the Priests of the Temple of Hades would anoint his body for his sacred, restful death and everlasting entombment. Sparta felt a pain in her heart where Despair and Misery curled up together in close company, and she knew, alas forever more, no longer would her father be there to bind up the pieces of her broken heart with Love and Protection. Her soul sank deep into sadness that Winter's day as the cold snows blew in upon the north winds streaming off the mountain as she hurried forth, her body ached, the frigid air biting deep into her lungs, chilling her flesh to the bone, and she was sore unaccustomed to fighting in Wintertime. She was exhausted and many thougts raced through her mind as she rode at the speed of eagles, as her brother remained fighting on the plain of war. Yet not once did she realize that with the death of her father the responsibility of running the Empire and Nation would fall squarely upon the shoulders of her and her brother, for they would be the new face of the Ancient Monarchy. Officer Sparta, Royal Daughter of the House of Themiscyra, along side her beloved twin brother, Captain Therakles Legitimate Heir to the Spartan Throne, would soon be crowned as the new Queen and King of Sparta, to rule jointly as the Supreme Commanders of the Imperial Armies and Navies and they would soon pose a new threat to the region.

End Chapter 1

     So it came to pass, after two days of dispatching runners relaying messages of battle coordination's back and forth between Sparta and Athens, the Siege of Thebes began 3 days after the Massacre at Thespiae. King Vyakles committed 15,000 troops who marched from the southwest across the vast farmlands in the eastern plain of  Boeotia, and Athens sent out 10,000 hoplites, from the north west. The battle formation was ordered as followed: 10,000 heavy infantry comprised of the well armed phalanx under the command of four Spartan Generals who took orders from King Vyakles whose division took up the right wing, flanking the southern and eastern gates, 8,000 foot soldiers took position at the northern and eastern gates as 3000 cavalry officers of the Themiscyran Division committed to battle along with 1000 chariots, 1000 charioteers, 2000 archers under the command of General Scotia and General Iona, with 4000 remaining support troops. Their sole mission was to destroy the allied army of Thebes and Macedon and neutralize them, seal off the seven gates of the city, starve out the population then burn the ancient city to the ground. Now this seemed quite possible to the Spartans and Athenians as they had done so many times before in the past, however, this was the dawn of a new day and what King Vyakles and his men, along with their allies in combat, encountered that day sent shock waves through the troops.
     For so it was Phillip, a skilled warrior and veteran of many harrowing battles, had developed and successfully implemented new weaponry and a lighter body armor for his troops, who fought in a much different fighting style than the Spartans and Athenians were familiar with and much unaccustomed to. These battle tactics and formations were nothing like the strategy of old. No, this morning ushered in a new style of violence and terror the world, and her brave warriors, had never seen, or ever known. Therefore Athens and Sparta faced this new threat and they faced it together. This difference between the enemy troops left King Vyakles, who fought bravely alongside his men in the front lines, at an extreme disadvantage. For the Macedonian phalanx consisted of orderly rows of 3000 men, one behind the other, all the soldiers, were armed with a new weapon, a 13-14 foot long pole with a long metal spike on the end, this was called a sarissa. The first row of five men presented their sarissa like a hedge row of spiked points aimed forward, extending out about 10 feet ahead, as the deadly points pushed towards enemy shields and skulls with incredible, irresistible force. Whereas the men waiting behind kept their sarissa pointed upwards towards the sky, like a porcupine,  waiting for their comrades to fall so they were ready to take their place. This is where the Spartans were at a disadvantage for they were armed with 6-8 foot long spears and heavy bronze armor and shields, and the Macedonians enjoyed the advantage in reach and in destiny of offered weapons, for every formation of the Spartan Phalanx could only present its spears from a depth of 2 or 3 feet. Phillips men also did not have to crush together so tightly as the Spartans did in their 'turtle' formation so the Macedonians were less exhausted in the hours long fighting. However there was one flaw in the newly designed weapon, it must be held with two hands so the Macedonians had smaller shields that were lighter in weight and had to be strapped to the left forearm, Vyakles realized this as he had a clear view from the front lines, where he always fought with his men, to lead them in battle and bloodshed. Though many had tried to persuade the king, in his old age, not to take up the front line fighting position, Vyakles did not heed the calls for safety and prudence, ignoring the hand of Providence. So it was the cries of those thousands, upon thousands, who gathered for war fought hard, or lay dying, that day, the multitude of voices rose up to shake the heavens and the earth. Vyakles was surrounded by his men who pushed him back behind the lines for a greater measure of security and protection from the new threat. Hidden back behind the wall of their heavy sturdy shields the old king moved a little to slow for fate, that terrible winters day, for had he moved just a few moments quicker he would not have felt the sharp stab of the cold metal spike deep into his neck where a major artery was severed as a warm scarlet stream of blood poured  forth from his body. Vyakles let out a cry, grabbing his throat, falling to his knees, collapsing at his son's feet. The din of war faded from his ears, along with the pain and any fears he had of death. For his life would soon be over now, and in the chaos of this final moment on earth, his last bloody battle in the land of the living, King Vyakles would, at long last, find Peace and Glory in dying, his life long Service to his Country COMPLETE. Quickly he sent up his prayers to Mercury and Hades to usher his soul up with rapidity across the river Styx to see his beloved Queen Thera so he could find shelter in her Love and Grace to partake in Thera's Royal Divinity. His death was beautiful, and it was fine, and he felt wonderful as he lay dying.Vyakles found his glory and, therefore, this Earthly King became divine. So it came to pass that the famous, and infamous, King Vyakles the 'Destroyer of Nations' fell in a heap of his own warm blood, spilling out his life, along with thousands of his loyal soldiers who lie dying by his side, that bitter cold winters day.
    "Father!" Amid the shock and horror, the fog of war crept in as Therakles screamed out in dismay "The King has fallen!" here his words were all carried away, heard by the Macedonians and Spartans, here the tide of war shifted, for hearing this blessed news the blood lust of the Macedons was multiplied and the ensuing battle to take the body of King Vyakles as a trophy of war began in pools of blood and bodies. The Spartans locked shields in protection of their crowned rulers corpse, four times the Spartans repulsed the horde, then lost control, then regained their dead king's body, but it was not until the word reached the cavalry that more help came.
     

Chapter 1 continues

     Now when the little children where hurried up to the palace of the king at the top of a hill overlooking the Spartan plain that cold winter's night, Vyakles was brought to his knees with all they relayed to him the absolute terror they encountered. So it came to pass, through streams of their warm tears staining their cheeks as held them in his arms, they told him all. The mind of the king became like the troubled seas, without peace or rest, churning up dark thoughts of rage, the pulse of his blood quickening in his veins as he listened in horror, along with his most trusted Generals. The call to arms was sent out by Vyakles as he ordered the Council of War to be summoned, yet before his councilors could even be called to council, in the din of this troubled year, three more reports came from cities allied with Athens and Sparta as well. Phillip had sent out his troops to destroy a few of the towns of the Peloponnese who were supported and protected by Athens and Sparta whom had become allies after the Battle of Leuctra. It was Phillip's father whom had began an alliance with Thebes to rule the Peloponnese and they were successful 20 years ago at defeating  the Spartans and the Athenians, however, due to their complete lack of knowledge and ignorance on the running and proper ruling of an empire this led them  to a state of incompetency and rampant misappropriation of money, gold and property; which led to infighting and allowed Sparta and Athens through their own peace accord to take back control of the region. Until now, when their lands were swept into chaos by Phillip the Firsts son, who was now at this very hour relaxing back in Thebes delighting in the tales his soldiers told of the blood and carnage.

     When the plans for the attack on Thebes were set the king returned to his bed to rest for one last nights sleep before he would arise and prepare for battle, and much came to his mind as he lay there, alone as usual. For after the death of his beloved wife, and Queen, Thera he had not cared to take another wife. He thought of his children the daughter and son of Thera, their beloved mother, murdered by the traitor Odessa when the twins were but five. He had raised them up to be strong and brave, like their mother. He would join his son, Tharakles and his daughter, Sparta in battle on the morrow. This would be the fifth time they would go out and fight together against the enemies of the kingdom. With Vyakles leading the Phalanx, Therakles serving under him, and Sparta serving as one of his finest officers in the cavalry. They had both made him so proud graduating from the military academy, excelling at their studies of history and languages, music and poetry a prouder father there could not be, and with this knowledge he was well pleased, but still he took no comfort as his mind was filled with gruesome imagery of the massacre at Thespiae as recanted by the only living witnesses to the atrocity. There was much on the mind of King Vyakles for he had ruled now for nearly thirty years. A young man the age 35 when he was crowned before the people, now in his late-fifties the aches and pains he suffered with in his back, his shoulders and his knees were warning signs that he himself was past his prime fighting years, he knew it was not a good idea for him to go out and make war, but go out he must, in the defense of his nation, for the sake of his people. He had prepared his soul long ago to suffer the consequence of battle in service to his country.Yet on this night, betrayed by sleep, which would not visit him, as he sent up prayers to his gods and goddesses for guidance and protection, he felt deep within his heart  that perhaps this might very well be his last chance to fight. To die on the field of battle with his sword and shield in hand was the ultimate sacrifice Vyakles could make in service to his beloved people all in the name of Unity, Loyalty, Respect and Honor. 

     

Chapter 1 begins

     The brutal massacre began just before sunrise, that cold winters day, in the predawn light where, in the frigid air, the sounds of the Macedonian riders approach carried far off across the open plain whilst the villagers of Thespiea lie sleeping in their warm beds. Yet  soon the peace they quietly slumbered in was wholly shattered as they awoke together in a panic stirred by the echo of thundering horses hooves pounding the cold hard earth coming towards them at a quickening pace. The terrified people sprung up quickly trying to gather their children desperately hurrying to scurry away and flee from the force that they could not see, nor could they resist. All were sore afraid these marauders, murders, were coming to cut them all off from the land of the living.
     Calls came up from the rooftops from a few old men "We are here! Defenseless, women, children, the sick and the elderly! There are no Spartans stationed at the garrison!" for so it was, for this was January, Wintertime, a closed season in Greece for warring and fighting. Now was the time for the annual marriages that took place during the festival Gameon, honoring Zeus and Hera. During this time no wars were permitted between any of the city-states, this was a well respected peace agreement for generations upon generations. That was until young Phillip the Second came to the Ancient Argead throne. Now his lust for revenge and greed for more and more territory had led him to send out 200 of his fiercest cavalry officers to go on this bloody raid on the tiny village nestled at the base of Mt.Helicon, where the Spartans stabled hundreds of fine Themiscyran horses trained for war. So all, and any, shouts for mercy and pity were well ignored by the Macedonians whose response came at the end of their sharpened swords and spears as they charged into the village creating chaos as their hapless victims, those able to run, did their best to get away or hide. Those who could not escape, due to illness or infirmity, were crushed under the stampede of hooves the surging force of violence unyielding. The brutality of the northern warriors who came after their human prey in a torrent of blood, poured out in a vicious crimson tide along with those innocent peoples lives. The slashing and stabbing went on for what seemed an eternity to the small group of children, hidden in fear in the bushes watching the grisly scene, doing their best to remain silent trying not to scream. So it was their child's eyes and minds were witness to the sickness as the Macedonians, their white armor soaked in scarlet streaks of their fathers and mothers blood, slew all those they encountered, laughing in the faces of the old men and young children as they hacked off hands and limbs, then the heads began to fall. Yet the worst was saved for last when the men gathered up all the pregnant women, all 27 of them, lining them up in a row. Phillip's soldiers took turns slicing open up the bellies of each of the screaming women, wagering between them if the still living fetus was a boy or a girl. Such was the horrific atrocity that would be attributed to the hated king of Macedon Phillip II.
     Over 400 innocent men, women and children lost their lives that cold, bloody winters day, cut down by the sharpest swords, or burned alive, trapped inside as fires were set to all the buildings and structures. Only the empty stables were left standing as a haunting reminder to the Spartans of the loss of all their magnificent horses. When the frightened creatures were rounded up and herded away the remaining Macedonian warriors began mutilating the bodies of the dead; which only served to whip them up into a frenzy, as they hacked of portions of the corpses as gruesome trophies of war, for what they had just accomplished was to commit a brutal act of war, armed aggression against Sparta's friend and ally, the people of Thespiea whom had allied with Sparta since the Battle of Nemea, a friendship for forty years destroyed in one morning. For the destruction of Thespiae was Phillip's mission given to his warriors, who obeyed him blindly. To serve their king, in this most foul and detestable way, was the highest form of loyalty they could demonstrate, so of course they could claim they were, in fact, doing the correct and honorable thing. However, those little children who watched in shock and horror, hidden from sight, could plainly see all their horrific misdeeds, then when the strange invaders built a bonfire, as the sun arose far off on the horizon, what they saw made them collapse into each other's arms out of sheer terror, for their minds could not take in the gruesome scene. The triumphant cries came up from the brutal, blood soaked soldiers, as they tossed chunks of human flesh, arms, legs, heads upon the raging flames, for this they did in Phillips name and for the sake of their most favored god Ares, their lord of war, whom they worshiped and sacrificed to, all for his strength and protection.The burning of their victims bodies served as a symbolic offering, a votive token, of their love and admiration as the ashes of the innocent floated up ever higher in the heavens on a trail of black smoke there was not a cloud in the bright blue sky. So this came to pass and it was many hours later when the three little children, hidden, the only ones still alive, trembled in fear together as they slowly crept up, making sure the Macedonians had disappeared they took off in a flash, running as fast as their little legs could carry them heading south to the nearest town for they had send news of the destruction of the city, and her people, to King Vyakles, ruler of Sparta. As for the Macedonian cowards they traveled along the low foothills eastward seeking  refuge with their ally, the city of Thebes, where they welcomed with open arms.