Re: [RS2.1]Kingdom of Ionia
Chapter I
… Excavations around what many other academics have concluded to being the walls of Ephesus unveiled a shocking discovery: that an extensive siege system had been built around it and several bitter battles had been fought beneath it in relative quick succession. The regions around the walls show considerable amount of man-made activity suggestive of an actual attempt at either mounting or simply destroying the walls of Ephesus.
The walls around Ephesus, at their height, would have measured nearly thirty-five feet in height and nearly twelve feet wide. Siege engines of the day would have taken months to tear through the walls by brute force. One must wonder what methods the attackers would have chosen. To make for even more frustrating research, the scant archeological evidence does not provide clear indication as to who were the attackers and who were the defenders.
The presence of metal barbs and arrowheads pointing away from the walls—both inside and outside—clearly indicate that the defenders within had fought back against the invaders. Though the weapons found have proven to be useful in constructing a rudimentary knowledge of what has occurred, the paltry numbers seem to suggest that either the Ephesians behind the walls were so outnumbered that they recycled the armor and metal of the dead to re-equip themselves following the siege or that the battle was minor, a small skirmish compared to other engagements during this particular time period.
Excerpt from “Forgotten History of the Ionian Coast” by C. Krieger Ph.D and J. Connelly Ph.D
The Coward King's Triumph
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Dawn gave birth to a morning made red from the dust of the marching Greeks. The sun dimmed to a small red orb dangling precipitously over distant plains. Upon the walls of Ephesos, the Coward King stood against the parapet, his purple cloak bordered with threads of gold enveloping him and barely brushing against the stony surface of the high walls. He was sleep-deprived, having stayed up endless nights listening to the dull thudding noise of the Greek axes as they hammered away at the forests surrounding Ephesos to construct their engines. Adjusting his aged cuirass, the single piece of armor left to him by his father, the Coward King sighed at the sight. His men could hardly be described as adequately armed, and his army existed only on paper. The standards under which each attaché marched under were woefully depleted from the half-year siege. The Greeks were approaching with their siege engines—a ram, a tower, and a single sap point from which their men labored like moles to undermine the walls. The dust swirled around the creaking siege tower that wobbled as it rolled towards the walls and for a brief moment, the Coward King prayed that the tower would topple on its own.
His fingers brushed against the crack in his cuirass—the place that mutinous legionnaires had pierced his father’s side—and he whispered. "It was only a matter of time before they came. Really, I had been prepared for the worst."
"Sire?" Asked one of his personal retainers, unaware of the thoughts turning within the Coward King’s mind.
The Coward King shook his head at the black figures approaching Ephesos. "Nothing."
He descended from the walls, and many defenders said that the Coward King had abandoned the walls before the enemy ever approached them. They said that, and they were right. But they were also wrong. The Coward King did not abandon the walls. He simply left them to fewer men. Instead, he gathered the Army of Ephesos beneath the Great Temple of Artemis. And it was there that he spoke.
"I have been called many things in my life, but only two truly stand out to me. King and Coward. A title of shame alongside one of prestige. But I am not here to tell you of the faults that befall me. I ask you now, to look around. Do you see the Greek temples that lie above the Persian ones? Do you see the Egyptian obelisks that tower above the Greek shrines? Do you see the Roman banners atop the towers? These are yours, be you Greek, Persian, Roman, Khaldian, or Jewish. Do you see the children that have lined the streets, the women with their eyes red from weeping, and your fathers who are too old to bear arms on their families’ behalf? These too, are yours. Your homes are here, your livelihoods are here. To preserve what is yours, you must be prepared to fight to defend it. You give ground here, and you forfeit everything you hold dear.
Even a coward can understand that.
Fight with me. Fight for your homes. That is all I ask of you."
The Coward King's speech roused some men. Its message echoed from brevity. But most of the men felt less at ease after their king had spoken to them. Nevertheless, they shuffled to their posts. Upon the walls, a handful of archers lit a fire upon the crumbling stone and mortar. Dipping their arrows into the flames, they aimed at wheels of the siege towers, already halting here and there from the uneven grounds. A single man held the bright red flag—a signal to the rest of Ephesos that the wall remained intact.
Arrows whistled with hissing flames and drove themselves deep into the soft wood of the siege tower. The men who stood on the walls had spent their lives hunting in the forests around Ephesos and knew the consistency of the wood of the trees that grew there. Their aim, perfected by years of intercepting gliding birds and prancing rabbits, sent the arrows to their targets. A few even picked away at the Greeks pushing the tower.
Smoke sprouted from the seams of the tower, and the bindings around it soon caught aflame. There was no choice for the Greeks pushing the tower. They attempted to put out the flames with jars of prepared water, but the Roman archers shifted their aim and directed their missile at the Greeks attempting to put out the fire. Soon, flames engulfed the tower and belched black smoke to the heavens. Men tumbled from the tower, aflame and screaming. The Greeks scattered like ants from a disturbed hill, turning their backs to the Romans who fired until their quivers became empty. Arrows sprouted like weeds before the Eastern wall.
The flags rose. The enemy siege tower has fallen.
Fresh arrows were brought up from the base of the walls, and attention was diverted to the ram that lumbered towards the Porta Orientalis. Its topside was covered with wet leather and was impervious to simple flaming arrows. Tensions rose up as the supply of arrows dwindled. The ram’s head came closer and closer. Only when the order to prepare the oil did a single man realize a new tactic. Rushing past the shirtless sentries who sweated over the hot cauldrons, he took a jar and dipped it into the bubbling oil, incurring angry burns as the oil splashed against his arm. The oil was mixed with tar and the arrows were coated with the mixture. Now, set aflame once more, these arrows continued to burn as they struck the ram.
To the men who waited anxiously behind the walls, the happy news finally arrived from the Porta Orientalis: the enemy ram was abandoned. The two vermilion banners of Ephesos fluttered in the morning breeze, echoing the color of the eastern sky.
The entire Army waited in anticipation from the other defenders, a sign that the enemy sieging capacity has been repelled. But the third banner never rose, and their hearts sank. The Greek sappers continued their work unmolested.
The walls came down with a great crash heard around the city. Decimus' own bowel cramped uncomfortably. He closed his eyes, hoping to calm his nerves. But he could already hear the footsteps of the Greek soldiers who now poured through the breached walls.
Children atop the Great Temple spot the approaching horsemen. Some cried for their mothers. Others looked on, not knowing the danger. Still others called out to them, thinking it an elaborate game. All the while, the hooves clopped steadily against the ground.
Unable to wait, Decimus ordered his men to charge the enemy by the foot of the temple. Bitter fighting broke out, and the streets soon ran slick with blood.
An uproar went up, and news that the enemy commander had fallen was spread across the city.
But for no particular reason, as the men fought beneath the Great Temple, the Coward King rode with his personal cavalry away from the fighting, seemingly towards the Porta Orientalis. Men despaired, imagining that their king had abandoned them. But the sound of children atop the Temple, the sun's white rays glistening against the pristine marble of the city inspired them, and they continued fighting.
But the Coward King had not abandoned his kingdom, though he easily could have. Instead, he rode around the temple until he found himself at the rear of the enemy. A single charge would win the day.
A great victory against the Eastern Greeks. A much-needed victory.
But even this victory would be short-lived. For within the month, a second Greek army had marched to the walls of Ephesos once more. Worse, reports came from north that the fortress of Boreapolis had fallen and the citadel now occupied by the Greeks.
Court Politics
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By spring, a letter arrived to Ephesos, despite the Greek siege, bearing the seal of the citadel at Colophon. Rumors immediately flew across the Kingdom, whispers of a new Pilgrim Army that has newly arrived to the Hallowed Land grew. Intrigued, the Coward King called all of his Legates from across their citadels to gather in Ephesos. Under the cover of night, they snuck into the city and convened at the Court of Sulpicius Camerinus the next morning.
Servilius Teucer, the Legate of Ephesos, stood.
"We cannot trust this letter. It may well be a Greek trap. If they deceive us into believing that help will come from Colophon, then we may be provoked into sallying forth from the city. We would be annihilated. I say burn this!"
"You truly are a servant to the Coward King, aren't you?" Maximinus Pulcher, the Legate of Lebedos said. "You would dare to remain behind the walls, letting the enemy approach closer and closer, than to meet them head on? We have defeated them before, and we can do it again. That is the will of the gods!"
He was met with enthusiastic cries of assent from others, most notably, Corvenus Glabrio, Legate of Smyrna. This worried Decimus. Smyrna's garrison kept the Greeks from descending from the north. He did not want the War Party of his Court to gain the upper hand. There were not enough men at arms to cobble together any measurable defense force in Ephesos. The victory from the last siege came not from offense but defense. An active war would be suicidal. He held up his hand, calling for silence from his Court.
"Our position is precarious, far too precarious to risk an all out engagement against the enemy. Even if there is hope that the citadel of Colophon, destroyed a year earlier, had been rebuilt and a new army raised, we cannot risk ourselves now."
"You coward, we can destroy the enemy. We cannot simply remain here, year after year. We will never replenish our numbers lost! Your course will lead to our deaths." Pulcher bellowed.
"I am still King of Ephesos, and you, Pulcher, are still my legate. You will bow to my wishes."
"Or what? You'll sally forth from Ephesos and attack me at Lebedos?"
"I warn you now, Pulcher, stay your tongue."
"The Coward King does not wish to fight. I say we abandon him. What say you?" Pulcher looked around the room. At first, no one stepped forward. But then, one person spoke up.
"I stand with Pulcher. We sally out at once."
It was Glabrio. After he spoke, the other Legates declared their consent, and Decimus' heart sank. These men would bring an end to the Kingdom. But he had no choice. King he may be, it was a title that he could not back without his Legates.
"So be it. Assemble the Army."
And what did it all take? Decimus thought. Ah yes, the hope of reinforcements at the destroyed citadel of Colophon.
Kingmaker
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Disembarking from the ships that ferried his men, Numerius Aebutius Drusus sighed as he took in his surroundings. The roads were mere dirt paths beaten into the ground by the endless herds of sheep and cattle that milled about. There seemed to be little to activity in the port, and every language he heard sounded different from one another. There was no trace of Greek, written or spoken, anywhere in the port. He watched his men gather and strode away. It would be several hours before they are ready to depart for Ephesos. The cool early spring air kissed his brows and he removed his helmet. The lack of activity shocked him. He had remembered his father bringing exotic spices and perfumes from the East, proclaiming that they had come from Ephesos, but his keen nose could not pick out the distinctive aromas. Instead, the only scent he detected were that of poverty, starvation, and desolation. A few barges rocked gently in the harbor while the fishermen who manned them dredged through their nets for a few tiny flopping fish. Covering his nose, he walked deeper into the harbor, hoping to find someone, anyone, to tell him that this was not the entrance to the Holy Kingdom.
He spotted a shepherd with his herd and asked. "Old man, is this the road to Ephesos?"
The man nodded but shied away from Aebutius Drusus’ nodding plume. He felt his heart sink at the realization. Turning dejectedly back to his army, he realized that Ephesos must be just as battered, just as dilapidated as this harbor. He looked at their eager faces and realized that he must lie to them. But a few words of deceit, what does that matter in the pursuit of absolution?
"Men, brothers all, look about you now. This is the doorway into that Holy Kingdom, the Kingdom of Ionia. Our forefathers had created this kingdom in pursuit of the shades of those ancient Heroes from Troy. But our forefathers are gone, their relics left to ruination and pillage and plunder. The Greeks seek to destroy all that we have worked for, and you can see it here now inside this harbor. But we are the sons of Mars, the proud inheritors of the legacy of Dardanus. We will rebuild this Kingdom to its days of glory! We will reclaim those lost lands that our ancestors have bled for. Soon we will set foot within Ephesos. We will gaze upon all the wonders that had previously only been imagined. The spirits of Heroes lie behind those walls. Spirits that now search for their descendants. When we enter, make them proud!"
Not a bad lie. Aebutius Drusus followed the beaten path towards Ephesos and found himself not staring at the great gates but at an abandoned citadel. The inscription at the base of a broken statue read: COLOPHON. He chose to rest his men here overnight while he composed a letter to be sent to the Court at Ephesos.
They departed at first light. But as they approached Ephesos, the roads became even far more unkempt and turned over. Twice they marched through patches of grass, guiding themselves only by the sun that galloped in the sky. Aebutius Drusus felt uneasy. He can hear whispers amongst his men, whispers of lies about the Holy Kingdom .He ignored them and rode forth with his army until they came within sight of Ephesos. His heart picked up slightly, the city showed the tell-tale signs of a siege, and all perhaps would be well should they continue on. As they came closer, Aebutius Drusus saw that a Greek army had amassed and encamped itself at the base of the walls. Aebutius Drusus could already see the breaches made in the ancient walls. Pity rose up in his heart and he spurred his army forward to meet the enemy.
The Greeks, realizing their precarious position, chose to abandon their siege and instead flee back east.
Within the Court of Ephesos, pandemonium reigned. Legates shouted above one another, sometimes drawing swords and pointing it across the hall. Their own men at arms, their own accompanying riders, and their own retainers all flew into the argument. Words were hardly heard and anarchy threatened to descend. Loudest amongst them were the two men who had been at each others’ throats when the first news of Aebutius Drusus reached their ears: Pulcher and Teucer.
"This man had been sent by the gods. He relieved the siege without so much a loss of a man!" Pulcher said.
"Yes, Pulcher, but he also did not kill a man either. The Greeks simply pulled back when they realize that they would have been trapped between two armies." Teucer said.
"That isn't the point, now is it, Teucer?"
"Then enlighten us."
"This army that has come. It is a sign. New pilgrims are coming once more. We have reinforcements. The tactics of the Coward King are no longer justified. We need not his leadership."
"You speak of treason, in these very halls. Stay your tongue lest you find yourself at the end of my sword."
"Treason, Teucer? Is it treason to speak of defense of our homes? Is it treason to fight against the aggressors and invaders?"
"It is treason to defy the King."
"A Coward King who refuses to fight unless the fight comes to him. A coward king without support!"
The arguments shot back and forth between Teucer and Pulcher. The entire Court became so caught up in it that none had noticed Numerius Aebutius Drusus, the hero who relieved the siege, entering until he cleared his throat and announced his presence.
"I wish to see the King of Ephesos."
Decimus acknowledged the boy. "Come forward."
Aebutius Drusus bowed before Decimus. "I pledge my men at arms at your disposal, King of Ephesos. I pledge their fealty and mine for the defense of this Kingdom and for the absolution of my sins."
Teucer looked on smugly at Pulcher. "Well, it would seem that our King does have support after all."
I like the intro and will be following this
