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World on Fire
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Spoils of Olympus II:
World on Fire
Christian Kachel
© Christian Kachel 2016
Christian Kachel has asserted his rights under the Copyright, Design and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the author of this work.
First published in 2016 by Endeavour Press Ltd.
This edition published in 2018 by Endeavour Media Ltd.
Table of Contents
Summary of Spoils of Olympus I: By the Sword
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
CHAPTER 36
CHAPTER 37
CHAPTER 38
CHAPTER 39
CHAPTER 40
CHAPTER 41
CHAPTER 42
CHAPTER 43
CAST OF CHARACTERS
Summary of Spoils of Olympus I: By the Sword
We are introduced to protagonist Andrikos, his childhood friends, and his family living in the Ionian town of Ilandra. Andrikos and his band of capricious mates are loosely affiliated with their city’s criminal underbelly and he soon finds himself involved in an illicit scheme that threatens his life and the safety of his family. Andrikos is forced to disclose his predicament to his uncle, Argos, who agrees to help him fight Ilandra’s criminal elements. The repercussions of the bloody resolution necessitates his prolonged departure from his home and begins his journey to join the Royal Army of the Macedonian Empire.
Andrikos meets new comrades and experiences brutal tactics employed on new army recruits along their way to joining the Royal Army. His early time in the army coincides with the first civil war between Alexander’s succeeding generals and he now finds himself a part of an army under the leadership of General Eumenes of Cardia. While tending to wounds received in battle, Andrikos meets an impressive officer of his army’s battle staff named Vettias who recruits him to a secret mission on behalf of their general.
Andrikos is exposed to a shadowy underworld he could have never imagined and discovers the man who has enlisted his help is actually an operative of a secret society known as The King’s Hand – a group whose members have sworn an oath to protect the heirs of Alexander the Great and ensure their rightful place on the throne of the Macedon. General Eumenes sends Andrikos and Vettias on a clandestine mission to wrest control of the Royal Army away from Antipater and Antigonus and empower Queen Adea at the coming Triparadeisus Summit. Along the way, Vettias recruits the assistance of a beautiful courtesan named Mara who agrees to help them in return for her escape from a life of bondage.
To Vettias’ vexation, Andrikos and Mara become lovers. Vettias and Andrikos’ efforts at Triparadeisus are foiled by the existence of another secret organization, led by Orontes, a former agent of The King’s Hand bent on the annihilation of Alexander’s surviving family. Orontes’ actions compel Vettias and Andrikos to abort their mission and leave Mara in the custody of an enemy army captain serving in the legendary fighting force known as the Silver Shields.
Vettias and Andrikos’ failure spells disaster for their army as a massive enemy Greek force, led by General Antigonus, marches to meet them in open combat. Their army is defeated in a gruesome battle enabled by the treachery of their foes and its survivors must take shelter in an impregnable mountain fortress while under siege. We leave our protagonist with his remaining army on the brink at Fortress Nora. Vettias and Andrikos are given orders to embark on a new clandestine mission to Pella, the capital of Macedon, which could change the fortunes of their army and possibly change the course of history.
CHAPTER 1
Who is the more righteous? The stoic farmer who dutifully tends his fields while the world burns? Or the man who brings merciless violence to the enemies of peace? Is the common criminal an equal villain to the agent who kills on behalf of a cause greater than himself? I’ve answered these questions and made peace with their consequences. As I mounted my horse alongside Vettias, my mentor in the dark arts, I would need to draw on the fortitude these answers provided more than ever.
We were but two men traveling west – but we were bringing the vengeance of a thousand suns with us. The traitor Orontes had bested Vettias at the Triparadeisus Summit where the usurpers of Alexander’s dynasty divided the world between them. Antigonus The One-Eyed, now the Royal General of Asia, had defeated our army through treachery orchestrated by Orontes – banishing its shattered remnants to the impenetrable mountain citadel at Nora in Cappadocia. We were to be ambassadors of Hades, sent by our master, General Eumenes, the rightful Protector of the two Kings, on a mission to right these past transgressions.
The man I rode with was different from the man left for dead at the hands of Orontes the previous year. I now rode with a man consumed with hatred toward the enemies of Alexander’s dynasty who viewed Orontes as the singular personification of his animus. We were beginning our journey to Pella, the heart of Macedon and epicenter of power for our enemies, to prove there would be no safe haven for heretics to Alexander’s legacy. Death was Vettias’ errand and not even the Gods of Olympus could spare our victims from his murderous wake. As we rode out of Fortress Nora, the thick, protective gate closed behind us – sending out two instruments of vengeance onto an unwitting world.
It was under these malignant pretenses that we traveled to the Greek mainland – to the birthplace of my ancestors who crossed the Aegean Sea many generations ago to colonize the Ionian coastline. Each step brought us nearer to the Macedonian heartland and further from Mara, who by now was in the Far East under the possession of Hyllos, Battle Captain for the infamous Macedonian Silver Shields. Our success could reverse our army’s condemnation, put control of Alexander’s heirs back within the King’s Hand and, most importantly, hasten my reunion with the woman I loved.
****
“Have you stepped foot on the Greek mainland previously?” Vettias asked.
“No, never. Who is our contact in Pella?”
“When I first revealed the existence of The King’s Hand to you I mentioned my time spent as an aide to General Polyperchon, an original member of the order who has since returned to his native Pella. General Eumenes placed him there as an operative within Antipater’s court because of his historic ties to the European Regent. He is from an old and powerful Macedonian family and has become quite influential within Antipater’s staff. His position is no doubt imperiled now that the fiend Orontes has traveled with Antipater’s son, Cassander, back to the Macedonian capital after their short-lived tenure serving under Antigonus in Asia. Eumenes has ordered us to assist with this new development. Orontes knows Polyperchon’s true identity from his time with The King’s Hand and will do all he can, both overtly and surreptitiously, to eliminate Polyperchon from Antipater’s inner circle. Just as in Triparadeisus – our task is herculean. We were generally unsuccessful on our previous mission and we are not expected to fare much better in Pella. At worst, failure wi
ll prove to our enemies there is nowhere safe from General Eumenes’ wrath. At best, we can shape events in the capital to our army’s favor. As in Triparadeisus, the potential benefits outweigh the risks.”
I noticed Vettias spoke to me more as an equal since our army’s defeat at the hands of Antigonus, where my best mate Stephanos and I were left within an inch of our lives. We did not have the chance to converse at length since and he asked me to recount the events of the battle during our journey and was genuinely interested in my tale. He explained that in addition to Orontes’ choreographed treachery, our baggage train had been captured by Antigonus, prompting most surviving members of our army to defect to his side rather than remain with an impoverished, beaten general not of Macedon.
“You can’t blame them, however,” Vettias opined. “Our men had their entire life’s fortunes tied up in that baggage train. Some were the accumulation of over ten years of plundering the Persian Empire. Some had their whole families with them – wives, children, prostitutes and animals. These men owed no debt to General Eumenes other than the time remaining on their agreement to serve under his army. A name in a ledger book is not enough to keep a man from accepting the loss of his possessions or family, especially when to remain steadfast would cost him his life. This is why I want you to remove all doubt you and Stephanos made the right decision on that day,” Vettias transitioned – referring to our decision to conceal ourselves in the aftermath of our phalanx’s collapse rather than face certain death.
“What would better support the cause for which you have made a solemn oath: you dying honorably after the battle was already lost; or you fighting with honor and saving yourself when the only other option was certain death? Would you be on this road with me right now had you died honorably? I would have to waste valuable time training someone to the level you have already achieved. We are not Spartans, Andrikos. You and your friend Stephanos did the right thing on the day of the battle and General Eumenes himself recognizes this.”
Vettias’ counsel put me at ease but the image of Second Officer Neokles with half his face missing, pulling Stephanos from the melee and jumping into the carnage with no concern for his own safety, lingered as a counterpoint to Vettias’ conclusion. His actions differed so drastically from mine when it mattered most. Just as I was relieved that Stephanos made it out alive no matter his actions, so too was Vettias pleased to see me yet draw breath and was more than willing to rationalize our retreat.
Vettias and I traveled at a brisk pace, conversed throughout the days and bedded down in taverns and inns at night. After two weeks we arrived in Byzantium, the closest Asian city to the European mainland. The city was an ancient Greek colony straddling the narrow entrance to the Black Sea. We secured passage for the short ferry across the Hellespont where I took my first step on European soil – my ancestral homeland.
We traveled west across the Thracian coastline until we reached Vettias’ home of Amphipolis on the eastern outskirts of Macedonia. Founded by the Athenians, the city had traditionally been part of Thrace but was conquered by Alexander’s father and absorbed into Macedon proper. Vettias chose to bypass Amphipolis for fear of being recognized and, after another week, we could see the outline of Pella, seat of Greco-Macedonian power.
CHAPTER 2
Thrace and Macedon were rugged countries with little in the way of grand cities. Pella, by contrast, was a relatively new polis, built by the Macedonian King Archelaus several generations ago. It stood along Lake Loudias and was constructed in the Hippodameian style of straight, intersecting boulevards and thoroughfares – creating a neat, orderly grid with a symmetrical agora or city center.
Pella had certainly benefited from Alexander’s conquests and many of its wealthy families owned magnificent residences near the city center. The agora was ten square city blocks and lined with porticos and storefronts on all sides. The broad roads were well drained and efficient sewage systems were in place. Pella’s defensive walls were in excellent condition and its temples were lavishly adorned with gold, silver and bronze. Its royal palace sat regally atop a hill overlooking the city, yet paled in comparison to the grand Persian structures of Triparadeisus. Despite its relative prosperity, Pella was dwarfed by even mediocre cities of the former Persian Empire. Upon entering at three hours past midday, we dismounted our horses and secured two rooms away from the congested city center on a quiet and clean street near the outer walls.
“Tonight we will seek out Polyperchon and obtain the state of affairs regarding Antipater. After, I will have a better idea about what is possible here and how we are to go about achieving it. We have the advantage now because even Orontes would not think us bold enough to be operating in Pella so soon after our army’s defeat. The problem is that Polyperchon’s past is known to Orontes, and Cassander is no doubt plotting Polyperchon’s removal as we speak.
“Go down and order us some food and drink.”
****
We departed at nightfall after eating a large meal, and arrived at Polyperchon’s prominent two-story estate near the Agora. I announced our presence to a servant while Vettias remained in a dark corner. We were shown in and led through the central courtyard lined with Doric columns and decorated with black and white tiles arranged in diamond patterns. Torches were alight throughout the home and we were led to a rear chamber that served as a study. The small space was dimly lit and contained numerous scrolls, tapestries, busts and an eastern carpet. Seated in an ornately carved wooden chair beside a flickering fireplace was Polyperchon, veteran of The King’s Hand. He stood up to receive his former deputy and embraced Vettias as a proud father would his son. Polyperchon was about fifteen years older than Vettias but still retained the common soldierly traits of strength and solidity well into his old age. His skin was worn yet sat tightly over his sharp, striking features. His hair was still thick and held much of its original black color. His hands were massive and looked as if they could crush a man’s head.
“Vettias, my faithful friend,” the old soldier greeted. “My most loyal of soldiers – unequaled in his steadfast resolve for the sacred oath administered to us by Alexander himself years ago; he who travels countless miles to assist me in The Hand’s most important task.”
It was revealing to see Vettias had a relationship with another in a similar way that mine was becoming with him. I made sure not to say a word or make my presence known lest I cut short a long-awaited reunion prematurely. Eventually Polyperchon’s attention fell on the young figure standing motionless in the study attempting to avoid notice.
“And who is this?” Polyperchon asked.
“Sir, allow me to introduce my apprentice, Andrikos. He has taken the oath and served The Hand well in Triparadeisus. I trust him implicitly and have chosen him to accompany me on this most important of missions.”
“Come here, son, and allow me to embrace you as a brother. I thank you for your bold choice, especially someone too young to have served with Alexander himself. You arrive during an important time,” Polyperchon concluded while turning his attention back to his apprentice. “While General Eumenes was ensconced within Perdiccas’ inner circle, he decided to embed me within Antipater’s court. I traveled back to Macedon with the ten thousand returning veterans led by General Craterus and was appointed to his staff. When we returned to Macedon it was easy to transfer this position to Antipater’s regime, since the Regent was eager to surround himself with returning Macedonian veterans to bring more legitimacy to his position within Europe.”
“It was clear from the start that his son, Cassander, posed a threat to the future of the Argeads,” Polyperchon continued. “His hatred of Alexander was palpable, despite his father and close confidants imploring him to silence his seditious beliefs. His frail physique and uninspired character was the antithesis of our God-King. He resented Alexander’s position of authority over his prestigious family. He resented Alexander’s decision to remove his father from power. He views his family as the rightful rulers of Macedo
n and will stop at nothing to ensure no Argead sits in a position of power again.”
“I’ve labored tirelessly since arriving in Antipater’s court to subtly drive a wedge between father and son which has begun to bear fruit. This rift has metastasized quickly since Cassander’s absence to briefly serve under Antigonus. I think Antipater is close to making a decree that declares me the successor to the Argead Regency. Antipater does not favor his gentle son and does not possess the same drive to keep the Regency within his family. Cassander’s unexpected return from Asia Minor complicates our affairs here, however, and he arrives with an old foe of ours.”
“Orontes,” Vettias respectfully interrupted. “He was the primary catalyst for our failure in Triparadeisus and has joined his anti-Argead cause to Cassander’s. I planned on informing you of this situation had you not uncovered it on your own.”
“He attempts to hide his little vizier from me but we are both aware of each other’s presence,” Polyperchon assured. “He’s no doubt poisoning little Cassander’s ear about me as we speak, in whatever hole he’s currently inhabiting. Orontes is too new in Macedon and I am too embedded for him to take swift action just yet, which is why I sent for you. We are now in an awkward game of wits to see who can accumulate enough power within Antipater’s inner circle to succeed him when his time comes. We will strike out at Antipater the minute I feel confident my position as Regent is secured. I will need you two to eliminate Cassander’s operatives while I further estrange him from his father.”
Polyperchon certainly had grand plans for our position in Pella. If one of our own could be made Regent and named official Protector of the Kings, General Eumenes’ fortunes in Asia would be far different. That would grant him the money, manpower and the legitimacy we so desperately needed. I wondered if such a scheme could be successful. Orontes assuredly got the better of us in Triparadeisus, but now we would be playing our dangerous game within the capital of the Macedonian Empire. Polyperchon certainly had the strategic aptitude necessary to lead such an audacious plan and I felt better about our chances knowing that both he and Vettias were working together.