End Chapter 1

 

     Ambassador Veritan waited to speak as he could clearly recognize the king's thoughts were lost back in time, to the days of Thera and the breeding campaigns of Themiscyra and the untimely death of his beloved nephew. War was almost reached between the two great  nations over the matter, however, King Sunder's  greed for payment in gold superseded his need for revenge over his love and loss of that fine young General, dead by the hands of Commander Thera sole heir to the Royal House of Themiscyra. "Alas..," the great king wept "the time has come..," he bowed his head in silence.
     "We await your command my King!"  came the cries of his frantic learned council.
     "Ambassador Veritan," the king said in a soft low voice barely audible. "Ride out at once for Sparta plead our case to the newly crowned young King and Queen.., the children of Thera." he cleared his throat having trouble speaking the Dead Queen's name. Then he raised his head stating calmly "Gentlemen.., send your prayers to the god's that those two will have the honor and wisdom to entreat our sacred cause in the defence of our ancient homeland." here a furious look of anger came over his face as he reminded them all "For if all Thrace falls into the hands of that butcher king., then what army can stop him from taking the Peloponnese and ruling the world as we know it?"
     So it came to pass King Sunder ordered the shield of Thrax removed from the palace and taken to a safe place of hiding. Thereby placing a great strain upon the king's soul as the shield had been mounted there in its place of honor for decades upon decades as far back as anyone could remember. To see it hauled away in the dark of night was like a dagger to his heart. The bronze shield was not just an ancient relic of their glorious hero founder Thrax son of Ares but was also a talisman of security and protection. All the people grew sore afraid that all the charm and luck of the fates and furies had just been carted off and stored along with the sacred shield as it was taken from the palace.
      "Veritan." the king beckoned him closer a panic rising in his voice "Take your scribe.., your notari., go at once! Sign any treat as my proxy, any treaty of alliance they so prescribe. Any cost! There is no price I will not pay to SAVE THIS NATION!" here he reached out squeezing tightly the wise ambassadors hands as he spoke. "Sway the young hearts and minds of the Spartans , use your golden tongue and silver threads of speech , weave for us a cloak of salvation with your words and pearls of wisdom."
     Noting the desperation in the beleaguered monarch Veritan said in a firm loud voice as clear as crystal. "I pledge my allegiance and honor to you and this great nation I will do everything within my power of persuasion to bring the Greeks to our defense. Pray now it is not too late."
     With his heart aching and his pulse racing King Sunder collapsed back upon his throne staring up and back at the empty, waste of space, where the shield of Thrax once hung, the king felt a sharp pain in his side and his head pounded the veins swelling throbbing with blood. Yet, although he was gathered together with a crowded roomful of of his nervous anxious countrymen, he felt utterly and completely all alone. The vast mountains of gold and silver amassed at the treasuries of the temples; which decades of his reign had brought forth home to Thrace, would now prove of little comfort for him. For soon it all would be carted off to Sparta, or barring their help, all would be forfeited over to Phillip to pay for a king's ransom to buy HIS OWN safety and freedom.., if only Phillip would listen to reason.., if not he feared he too might perchance meet the fate of his kinsmen, with his skin flayed from his body.., perhaps Philip will turn me into a saddle like he has been rumored to have done to the brave General Laterras of Illyria. Many thoughts raced through his mind, such as this, as he sat there in shell shocked silence, the once warm and bright great hall of his throne room now felt as cold and desolate as a tomb.
     So out of his aged palace he crept to the ancient temple of Ares to pray before the altar upon his knees prostrating himself before the god of all his hopes and beliefs. The noble king lighting his candles, burning the strong sickly- sweet incense, preparing his offerings of sacrifice. Praying for the fate of his beloved kingdom by the Black Sea; which now lay in the hands and at the feet of two, 24 year old, neophyte regents of the Laconian Throne, King Therakles and Queen Sparta. "Oh Ares take pity upon me!"                                                                                     

Chapter 1 continues

        "Our infantry division set out to meet the Macedonians on the field of battle at the southern gate. The Illyrians amassed their army to the north, in hopes of surrounding Phillip encircling his hosts thereby facilitating a crushing defeat.., however." a word most hated by messengers,  he continued "Phillip, being crafty, split his forces in twain and creating 2 fighting forces moved quickly against us, their phalanx armed with shield and sarissa and the fire-raisers.., our soldiers fought bravely but when our allies, the Illyrians, saw all hope was lost for victory.., they made a hasty retreat and left our men to fend for themselves..,  all was lost. Our soldiers, vastly outnumbered, fought all night under the light of the moon, it was a massacre. The Barbarian King showing no mercy and giving no quarter, he was heard to shout that our soldiers were not even fit to save and sell as slaves, a further insult."
     "May Hades curse his name!" King Sunder remarked balling his fist tight clenching his teeth sitting on the edge of seat listening intently.
     "Once the walls were breached Philip's army seized the gold and silver mines, the peasants were shipped off to the slave market and the city burned to the ground." the king's messenger bowed his head the worst of the story remaining untold.
     "And our oligarchs? Our elite men? My Princes.., my sons and daughters?" he said with a deep heavy sigh. "How much in ransom does Phillip require to release my family to the freedom of my palace walls"
     Here now the face of the exhausted young man grew a whiter shade of pale as he cast his gaze upon his toes  the fiery brightness of joy in his eyes deeply diminished and he could not bare to look his beloved monarch in the face.
     "What of my sons and daughters?" again the king's voice grew loud as thunder in anger not knowing the fates of his dear children.
     "There shall be no demand for ransom to save them, my King.., for so it was, Phillip ordered all of the noble men and women to be brought out to the center of the city. There, they were all, men and women, stripped naked in the marketplace. Where all the peasants were forced to watch the horror, as their masters and mistresses were skinned alive, their skins taken and draped over the city walls like bloody scarlet banners raised in Phillips honor. The bodies were then hacked into little pieces, whereupon a huge bonfire the chunks of flesh were thrown to burn as a votive offering to Ares." here bitter tears were wept by the traumatized young man of 17 for never had he witnessed such horrors. " I was the only one allowed to live as a witness, so I might return here now and tell you of what has transpired.., and to bring you all a dire warning."
     Here all gathered about the king shook in their souls, eyes wide, hearts racing, blood rushing pulsating in their ears. It seemed as if all this was just some terrible shared dream, so deep was the shock of the news of his story, time stood still. It took a moment before the king could react or register in his mind the words he had just heard.Then react he did as he wailed "This is madness! Brutal! Barbarian!" his anger was surpassed by bitter sadness and he moaned then began to weep openly in front of his noble lords, collapsing back into his throne covering his face with his hands. Bitterly he wept like a wounded animal his golden crown of laurel leaves slipping of his bald head whereupon it fell to the marble floor cracking in three pieces broken, broken as the kings mighty heart.
     "Sire, you must call for more allies at once to assist in our defense, as Phillip plans to take our capital city! For his next spoil of war he has set his mind upon.., is the ancient shield of Thrax we keep here in the palace!" Thrax founder of Thrace, son of the God of War, Ares. His ancient shield a national treasure throughout all of Greece hanging presently on the wall behind the throne of King Sunder.
     "Whom shall we call upon?" "Athens will take weeks to send forth her hosts!" "Thebes is in a treaty of friendship with Phillip!" "The Illyrains have shown themselves to be cowards on the field of battle!" "What are we to do?" " Our Army has been utterly crushed leaving 3000 here to defend us!" many shouts came up from his war councilors
     "My Lord!" came a calm still voice in the midst of  the turmoil "Perhaps it is time we reach out to the new King and Queen of Sparta, perhaps the bad blood between our two nations has had time to dry." he gave a sympathetic smile. "King Therakles and Queen Sparta, the children of Thera might be more sympathetic to our cause." Ambassador Veritan the aged Thracian said giving a slight bow of his head.
    "Sparta? the king said in a whisper as tense as wire, tears in his eyes as he suddenly recalled with vivid memory the face of Thera of Themiscyra and the old pains in his heart struck out again like stabbing knives of burning fire

Chapter 1 begins

                                                                          

                                                                                                                                                                          ''What news from the field of battle? the Thracian King roared from his throne, his grey eyes bulging, face red, veins throbbing in his neck and sides of his temples a furrowed worried look etched upon his wrinkled brow.

     ''My lord!" his messenger panting, dreading the telling of the terrible truth of the gruesome inhumanity and bloodshed unleashed by Phillip II and his fearsome band of warriors. He paused to catch his breath and gather his thoughts as the young man stood trembling before his king.                            "Now boy! Now tell me all of it! Tell me everything! Yes!" the king cried out slapping his loyal messenger about the face, clutching the terrified lad by his uniform shaking him with every word a little of the kings spittle landing on the pink of his cheek.

     "Yes!" he nodded meeting the old man's gaze here he opened up his mouth "Crenides has fallen, all is lost." his heart felt as if it had momentarily stopped its rapid beating and long were words of shouts and wails coming up from those gathered there in the great hall as the most dreadful news prevailed. Then a sudden wave of silence washed over the room where King Sunder had gathered his most wisest advisers and learned men. 

     "Damn your words!" here again he drew his hand back to slap the boy who recoiled in terror cowering like a dog. the king paused then with a defeated look he sat back down upon his golden throne "Were I not so old and aged I could have gone myself and fought..," his words trailed off with the many disturbing memories of glorious battles won by his hand. The ancient royal blood of Thrax flowing trough his veins began to boil, a bitter churning of bile washing over his belly. "Damn that barbarian king!" King Sunder shouted at the top of his lungs his voice not so aged as to shake the rafters of the Thracian palace that hot night in September. Tension and stress hung heavy in the air and upon the minds of the elite leaders of Thrace gathered there about their king.
     For so it was King Philip II had moved his troops to the eastern coast of the Thracian Empire upon the Black Sea.The barbarian king had wished to add the mining city of Crenides to his list of conquests. Having recently taken the Athenian territory of Ampholis, seizing the vast gold and silver mines along the river Nestor; whereupon he sold the citizens into slavery and then renamed the city in his honor. So it was the most hated Phillip set his eyes and his blood lust upon the hapless city of Crenides, and her people, unleashing his vast army and siege engines much to the horror of all those souls living there under King Sunders protection. Here the messenger began his tale.
     "The war machines surrounded the city walls, the gates shut tight, soldiers upon the walls fighting for their lives. The siege engines.., nothing like I myself have ever witnessed! Built high out of mighty timbers which were clad in sheets of armor, fire towers billowing with smoke glowing bright in the blackness of night. Mobile fire raisers they wheeled about the walls, sending large clay jars filled with sulphur, pitch and saltpeter; which they would catapult over the high walls of the doomed city. This fierce aerial bombardment.., flaming arcs coursing on their flights of death and destruction. Oh how our men fought fiercely as they invaders came over the walls like a surge of slashing swords and spears and fire. Fire.., streaking across the night sky like comets of Jupiter.., there.., on the inside our troops were assembled ready to throw open the gates and lead a last effort to defend the city, here the fire pored out like liquid. Panic quickly set in among the foot soldiers and the cavalry as their mounts scurried away in the blaze of smoke and fire.., those who were not trampled underfoot or crushed into dust under the stampede of horses hooves were coated with the scalding tar, set ablaze.., the noxious fumes from the sulphur burning their lungs." here the eyes of the horrified messenger grew distant a he relived the gruesome scene in his mind still hearing the plaintiff screams of the men and dying horses being burned alive. "I shall never forget the terror of that night." he paused "The terrible cries of the men and horses and then.., silence..., the unbearable silence.., which seemed to last an eternity." the young man cleared his throat wiping a way a stinging tear. "Then the real horrors began."