The Lost Army (48 page)

T
HE COMMUNITIES
scattered over the valley were peaceful, more given to trade than to war, to barter rather than to battle. Some of the villages were large enough to be called cities. The passage of the army aroused more interest than fear, more curiosity than hostility.

One of the larger villages we came upon had houses of stone or wood and a market square where you could buy anything: livestock, wheat, barley, poultry and eggs, beans and vegetables. It was there that I realized that Sophos’s chest must have had a double bottom, or a secret compartment, because I saw him spending an amount of gold darics, the imperial coin which pictured Darius the Great in the act of shooting an arrow. The generals also had Persian money to spend. The army could finally buy everything it needed, and the abundant fresh food improved everyone’s conditions.

Xeno spent a lot of time at the market seeking information with the help of an interpreter who spoke Persian. He was even invited to the house of the man who governed the city. Evidently, the word was out that the empire had its eye on these foreigners. Xeno’s host spoke fluent Persian and the interpreter had no problem making himself understood. His house was spacious and had an interior garden. There were many servants and maids dressed in their local costumes.

‘We don’t often see an army of this size in the city. From your weapons and the sound of your language I’d say you’re Greek. How did you get here?’ he asked.

‘We serve the Great King. We lost our bearings during a blizzard up in the mountains and we were about to give up. Now that we’re here we need your help to return to our bases on the sea.’

The nobleman had his servants bring roasted meat and pigeon’s eggs boiled in salted water to honour his guest, and he pretended to believe the lie that Xeno had told him regarding the nature of the military mission. He said, ‘I will be happy to help you. Before evening, I will send a guide to your camp who can show you the best route to take. In exchange I’d like a small favour.’

‘Consider it done,’ replied Xeno. ‘How can I help you?’

‘The guide will tell you. I prefer to have my guests enjoy my hospitality without personally discussing such details.’

Xeno noted all the local habits and customs and returned to camp after lunch to report on his meeting. The guide arrived in the late afternoon. He was a robust man and carried himself with a certain dignity. He was dressed and outfitted for a mountain journey. He evidently assumed that the response to the governor’s request would be positive. He was received in the tent which was being used as the camp headquarters, in the presence of the generals and battalion commanders.

‘We are grateful to you for offering such invaluable help,’ Sophos began. ‘First of all we would like to know how far we are from the sea.’

‘In five days’ march, I can take you to a place from which you can see the sea. Is that what you seek?’

Neither Sophos nor the other commanders, much less Xeno, managed to hide the enormous emotion his words aroused in them. Sophos replied, ‘It certainly is. And how may we repay you?’

‘After the second day’s marching, we will enter the territory of a tribe which is hostile to us. They make continuous raids into our territory, sacking and destroying everything in their path. They are wild, fierce highlanders. You must destroy them. Burn their villages and take everything you want, even the women.’

Sophos eyed the other commanders and saw determination in their gazes. He answered simply, ‘We can do that.’

‘Then let us leave at once,’ said the guide. ‘Time saved is time gained.’

We did leave at once, even though it was late. We headed towards the northern flank of the valley where the track we’d taken on our approach to the city took a turn towards the mountains. We travelled up a long, narrow gully with a torrent at its centre, moving in a column formation, as always, with the scouts at the head accompanied by our guide and with Xeno’s mounted rearguard at the back.

The days had grown longer; we realized this the next day as we were climbing the mountain slope because the sun stayed with us, on the right side of the valley, until it set. We stopped for the night in a clearing, a sort of grassy terrace spacious enough to contain the whole army.

Xeno and the others climbed to the crest of a ridge that rose above our camp, and they could see a group of villages on another terrace. In the dim light, they could make out some campfires, where food was being cooked, and light coming from lamps as well.

‘Why don’t we attack now?’ demanded Agasias. ‘Let’s get it over with and then we can eat in peace.’

‘No,’ Sophos replied. ‘I don’t want to attack at night in the mountains. Tomorrow we’ll have breakfast before the sun rises and then we’ll attack.’

The guide approached them. ‘You have to wipe out the women and children, too,’ he said, ‘unless you want to keep some for yourself.’

‘No,’ replied Sophos. ‘That wasn’t part of the agreement. We’ll take on anyone who offers armed resistance and we’ll burn the villages. Don’t ask for more.’

Millions of stars were teeming in the sky that night. The white veil that crosses the firmament from one side to the other seemed to rise and fall as if a mysterious wind were setting it aflutter and the air was full of the perfume of unfamiliar flowers.

After dinner Sophos went up to the ridge, dressed only in his cloak, gripping his spear in his hand. Xeno joined him.

‘I can’t believe it. Four days from now we’ll see the sea,’ he said.

‘You shouldn’t believe it. Not until we’ve seen it.’

You’re right. We’ve had our share of complications.’

They stood there in silence, until Xeno spoke again. ‘What will you do when we get back?’

‘Me? Nothing. I’ll never get to Sparta.’

Xeno didn’t comment. Sophos was pronouncing his own death sentence and there was nothing that Xeno could say to counter it. They sat on the ridge for some time, looking at the villages that they would put to fire and sword the next day.

As the men were pitching camp I had discovered a spring of clear water under a big rock covered with green moss. When it had grown pitch black I went there, stripped off my clothes and slowly immersed myself in the icy water. At first it was so cold I couldn’t even catch my breath, but at last I was able to wash and purify my body and my hair in the uncontaminated waters. It was like being born into a new life, and as soon as I lay down, I plummeted into a deep sleep.

I
WAS AWAKENED
by a chorus of screams and cries of terror, and the sinister crackling of fire. I ran outside and saw that the camp was empty; only a small unit had been left behind to garrison it. I climbed up the ridge and watched our soldiers paying the price to see the sea: slaughter.

The men of the village were fighting with all that they had, but there were few of them left standing because the assault had taken them by surprise, before sunrise. Many lay sprawled on the ground, transfixed. Some of the women were running off with babes in their arms, seeking refuge in the forests, while others wept over the bodies of their slain husbands. The children tried to take up the arms of their fathers who had fallen fighting off an implacable enemy that had pounced out of nowhere on their sleeping village. The huts with roofs of wood and straw burned like torches, raising swirls of dense smoke and sparks to the heavens. Before long, the crackle of the flames was the only sound to be heard. The army formed ranks again, led by the guide, and one by one destroyed every village on the mountainside, leaving a wake of smoke-blackened ruins. The ravages lasted three days, and only when our guide declared himself satisfied did we move on, towards the crest of the mountain range we were crossing.

As we climbed, the snow reappeared, but only in patches, here and there. In the pastures we saw fleshy white flowers which were very beautiful and, a little higher up, carpets of purple blossoms with thin, long petals arranged in a star shape. It was a splendid sight. I saw some of the girls gathering them up and I picked one too, and put it in my hair. I hated to see them crushed under the warriors’ heavy feet.

The head of the column had nearly reached the crest, but we still lagged far behind with the pack animals. Xeno and his men were on foot, leading their horses by the reins. Finally even we women arrived at a high plain which was wide enough for two battalions to pass side by side. Towards the west it shelved gently upward.

All at once, confused shouting could be heard from the head of the column, getting louder and louder. Xeno was just a little way behind me with Lycius of Syracuse and the others of his squad. I heard him shout, ‘Mount your horses, men! The vanguard is under attack! Be quick! Move!’

In an instant they had vaulted onto their horses and were racing alongside the column, which had ground to a halt. The officers were fanning out their units so as to reach the battle line more quickly and come to the aid of their comrades. The shouts were getting even louder.

But something in that sound struck me as strange and I had a sudden realization. I ran like mad towards the front of the column.

It was a prolonged, powerful cry, like the rolling of thunder, and the closer I got the more the cry grew in intensity, till my heart felt it was about to burst.

It was a word they were shouting, one word, the same I’d heard pronounced as a hope and an invocation during the freezing nights, in the endless marches. I’d heard it in the melancholy songs that rose from the camp when the sun was dying behind the grey winter clouds.

The sea.

Yes, that’s what they were shouting, ‘The sea! The sea! The sea! The seeeeeeeaaaaa!’

My heart was pounding by the time I got to the top, panting and covered in sweat. Xeno saw me and shouted: ‘Look! It’s the sea!’

Delirium surrounded me. The warriors were beside themselves; they couldn’t stop repeating that cry. They embraced each other, they embraced their officers as if in thanks for not giving up on them. Then, brandishing their swords, they began to beat them on their shields without ever ceasing their cry, making the air tremble with the deafening roar of bronze.

For a long while they stood there dazed by that vision. The thick cloud cover that hid the foot of the great mountain chain was opening and with every passing moment, with every renewed cry from the warriors, the break was growing wider, and there before us lay an intense and splendid stretch of blue, a sparkling, translucent blue, rippling with a thousand glittering waves, edged with white foam. I’d never seen it before.

The sea.

T
HEIR ENTHUSIASM AND JOY
showed no signs of diminishing. The sight of the sea was not only the end of a nightmare, it was a vision of home. It meant familiar shores, places studded with the settlements, villages and cities that the motherland had founded on the continent.

Someone abruptly yelled something that I didn’t understand, but everyone in earshot began to gather stones. Soon the entire army and many of the girls as well were joining the soldiers in adding rocks and pebbles, each as many as he or she could carry. They found a great number of them in a depression in the ground about two or three hundred paces away, and they built up several huge mounds to mark the spots from which they’d first seen the sea. It would serve as the reminder of what they had achieved, a trophy that would stand for centuries and perhaps for millennia in memory of their victory over their enemies, over hunger, thirst, cold, wounds, illness and betrayal. It would celebrate their impossible endeavour for all time.

They were so excited that the pile of stones grew before my eyes, taking on huge dimensions. The guide, standing off to the side, said nothing. He watched with a puzzled look, not realizing what they were doing, not understanding, I believe, the meaning of such behaviour. He didn’t move, didn’t bat an eyelid, as the totally spontaneous and monumental project took shape, growing by the hour.

By dusk their task was complete. Each mound was more than twenty paces wide and about ten cubits high, rising at the rim of the clearing, looming over the steep slope that descended towards the sea. The clouds in the meantime were crowding the sky again and obscuring the sight of the boundless blue expanse. When the monument had been completed, the soldiers tossed onto it the weapons that they’d taken from their enemies, and only then did the guide react. He broke some of them in pieces and asked our men to do the same. His hate for those who had carried them must have been extreme.

It was time to reward him for having guided us to that point. He was given a horse from those the men used in common, a beautiful Persian robe and ten gold darics, a fortune and a sign of the army’s unending gratitude. But the guide had set his eyes on their rings and pointing at the soldiers’ fingers, he asked to be given those as well. Many turned them over happily. Even Melissa: I saw her take a ring off her little finger and give it to the guide, who put it in the sack with the others. Then, without saying a word, he turned on his heel and melted on horseback into the shadows of the night.

A sense of calm fell over the army then, in the silence, and an infinite sadness. The euphoria, the wild, irrepressible enthusiasm, the crazed yells, the furious raising of a symbol of their salvation, all faded, giving way to reflection and memory. They had somehow survived an undertaking that had cost continual sacrifice and struggle, a battle one thousand battles long, a war against everything and everyone. Their eyes saw the scenes that would never leave them as long as they lived: comrades fallen in battle, dying slowly amid atrocious suffering, youth maimed, wounded, doomed to wander for ever in a blind, dark world.