The Lost Army (39 page)

Xeno reviewed the troops, and in his gaunt cheeks, his bristly beard and reddened eyes they could read all the suffering that he saw in their faces.

He inspected them one by one, adjusting their cloaks around their shoulders and looking away from the open sores and frozen limbs, the footwear and clothing that no longer protected them from anything. Then he spoke.

‘Men, listen to me now! We have overcome countless dangers. We have routed the most powerful army in the world, we have defeated a savage, barbarous people who wanted to annihilate us, we have challenged river currents, climbed mountain passes, we escaped the clutches of two armies who both wanted us dead, but now we fight an enemy without a face and without mercy, an enemy against which our weapons are no help to us. Many of us have already fallen to this enemy and we’ve had to leave them behind without funeral rites and without the honours they deserved. We are in a hostile land under terrible conditions, but we must survive. Do you remember what Clearchus would say? “Survive, men! Survive!” This is the order I’m giving you now. The same order he gave you then.

‘There are two things above all that torment us: the cold and the light. The cold is more dangerous; we can defend ourselves from the light.

‘Never stop moving at night. When you’re out on guard, don’t stand still: stamp your feet and slap your hands on your body. Always look for a spot that’s sheltered from the wind. When you’re sleeping, loosen your shoes. I’ve seen that many of you have swollen feet. That’s a bad sign. The surgeons tell me that swelling can lead to frostbite and that can lead to death. Under other circumstances, they could try to amputate. Here that would just be pointless torture.

‘Many of you have lost your way because you’ve been blinded by the light, which is so strong here. When the clouds clear and the sunlight is intense, its reflection on the snow can impair your vision. I can see how red your eyes are. If you don’t protect them, you’ll lose your sight and then your lives. You must cover your eyes with a dark bandage, leaving only a small slit to be able to see. There’s no other way.

‘When you find shelter and can light a fire, you’re safe. Those of you who lag behind and sleep in the cold and dark will die. It’s not fair that those who protect you have to pay for it with their lives. Every day, the vanguard will switch with the rearguard and vice versa until we have a complete rotation. In this way, the probability of survival will be the same for all. One last thing: remember that as long as we stick together we have a good chance of pulling through. If we respect the rules and our code of honour we can overcome the worst difficulties. A man who saves the life of his comrade saves his own. If you only try to save yourself, you’ll die and the others will die with you. And now, men, let’s march.’

He moved his rearguard to the front of the column but he stayed behind. The rules didn’t count for him.

How long would this ordeal continue? Would spring never come? What month were we in, what day? A whole lifetime had passed since I’d left my five villages, and I’d often find myself longing for that desert dust that steals your breath and burns your throat. When we were marching I never turned round, because I didn’t want to see the men falling one after another, the animals collapsing to their knees and not getting up, the ranks thinning out so rapidly.

Xeno found no time to write but I was sure that there was not a single event, an instant of this tremendous adventure, that he had not committed to memory, as I had myself. I didn’t know where Melissa was, or what had happened to Lystra. Her time must be drawing close.

One night we were to join up with Sophos, who had gone on a scouting expedition with a group of peltasts and with the Thracians, who were used to harsh winters in their homeland and withstood the cold better than the others. When darkness had fallen, they’d taken up quarters in some villages, and four battalions were allowed to enter. Some of the men had found shelter, others were outside gathered around huge campfires. The end of the column, where I was along with Xeno and his men, was so far behind that we were surprised by nightfall in the middle of the high plain.

It was a clear, windy night. A very long night. And absolutely freezing. Millions of stars, made of ice themselves, glittered in the black sky. The milky way that crossed the sky from one side to another seemed a trail of snow raised by the wind.

The territory was bleak and barren, there were no trees or bushes and there was no place to seek refuge anywhere in sight. Xeno assembled the men and the animals, and had the soldiers search through the baggage to find some shovels. They cleared the snow from a wide area all around us, creating a kind of bank that would protect us from the biting wind. They lit a few lamps and distributed what little food there was, and a few sips of wine. Then all the animals were massed into the centre of the cleared area, with the men all around, as close as possible so no warmth would be lost. The last ones on the outside, who would serve as sentries, were wrapped in their cloaks.

That’s how we spent the night, but in the morning we found a dozen men lying stiff in the snow, their eyes pearls of ice.

We resumed our journey along a ridge of low hills, and at a certain point the group walking at the top noticed something odd: a dark area in the middle of the whiteness, ground completely free of snow. They started to shout, ‘This way! Come over this way!’ and we all made our way up the hillside. From up there we could see the big, dark clearing from which a column of steam was rising, but this new vantage point also made us aware that we were not alone. There were bands of armed natives trailing us, intent on killing and plundering anyone who fell behind. They were in groups of about fifty men, dressed in skins, armed with pikes and knives.

But all of our attention went momentarily to the scene in front of us: there was a spring of warm water there, in the middle of that ice-covered wasteland! It filled a natural pool about two cubits deep. The land all around the pool was tepid as well, and the men tumbled to the ground to soak up its warmth: dry land!

They didn’t want to leave. Xeno tried to get them back on their feet. ‘I’ll let you rest but then we’re off again.’

‘You can forget that! We’re not moving from here,’ said one of them.

‘You can kill us, but we’re not leaving,’ added another.

‘You’re mad! There’s nothing here, besides a little heat. What do you think would happen if you stayed? You can decide whether you’d prefer to starve to death or have those fellows over there chop you to pieces. It’s your choice.’

He allowed them to rest, certain that they would soon be feeling better and be willing to resume the march. He was wrong. Many of them had been on their last legs when they reached the warm pool, and now they had stripped down and were lolling in the water, in a marvellous bath that consoled them for all the suffering they’d gone through. Their hardships, the frost, were a thing of the past. Xeno knew what they were thinking and so did I. Better to die sapped of all energy by this miraculous spring, this warm womb, than to face all the pain and privation that lay ahead.

Xeno managed to threaten and cajole most of them back to their feet, but there were about thirty who remained. They had become too feeble even to walk, let alone bear up under the weight of their armour.

He gave up. ‘All right,’ he said. ‘But you were told that no one would be left behind and I intend to keep that promise. We’ll go on until we find shelter then I’ll send someone back to get you.’

I’ll never forget the sight of those lads naked as babies in their bath, in that transparent water. They watched us leave with eyes full of infinite melancholy. Xeno muttered that they seemed like the companions of Odysseus among the lotus-eaters, but I don’t know what he meant by that.

I think that it was the very air that was making us so tired. I’d never been up so high and neither had the others, but I realized that I had to breathe much more quickly than usual, and that every move cost immense effort.

We finally caught up with the army’s advance guard and Sophos came to greet us. ‘Come in! There’s plenty to eat and drink here. You can sleep inside the houses and there’s room for everyone. The people are not hostile.’

Xeno was cheered. ‘Finally, some good news! Get me some mules or horses, food, dry clothes and some fresh troops: I need to leave right away.’

I kept thinking about those boys in their steaming bath. The sun was beginning to set. The night was advancing from the north like a black veil that covered part of the sky. They maybe had an hour of life left to them. Maybe two.

Xeno got his mules and horses. He left Eurylochus and Lycius in charge then headed out with a group of peltasts and Thracian skirmishers.

T
HE YOUTHS
were still in the water, playing and splashing, but the air was getting colder by the instant. As the light dimmed, the steam became denser and turned to ice on some of the nearby bushes and a couple of dead trees, which loomed over them like skeletal creatures. The fantastic shapes formed by the ice burst into a myriad colours as they were struck by the last rays of the setting sun. The moon was still pale as it rose from behind the impassable mountain chain to observe the scene. The men’s voices penetrated the vapour, but their forms had become indistinct and blurred.

Night was upon them.

Death was upon them.

The black divinity descended from the icy peaks without leaving a trace in the immaculate snow, cleaving the wind with the cutting edge of his naked skull. He guided invisible bands of marauders who swooped down the slopes, brandishing the tools of slaughter.

The young men could see them coming but did not react. What could they do? Their end would be rapid and warm: their tepid blood would mix with the tepid water and then darkness and silence would prevail.

X
ENO APPEARED
at the top of a hill, rearing up on his horse, who neighed loudly, breathing steam from his nostrils like a dragon. Xeno unsheathed his sword and shouted, ‘Alalalai!’

And right behind him were five hundred warriors, skirmishers and assaulters, no longer hungry now, and well armed. They drew up in a fan formation over the entire arc of the slope to cut off any line of escape for the marauders. Their gallop raised white clouds of powdery snow. Enveloped in rainbow light, they bore down on their enemies. They knew those enemies well: they were the ones who waited for the cover of night to attack the stragglers, who preyed upon the desperate souls remaining alone and bewildered, who came to blows amongst themselves in the dark, howling as they fought over the spoils and the pack animals who could not get back to their feet.

The Thracians and the light infantry fought furiously and cut the enemy down, one after another, skewering them on their javelins, stabbing them with their daggers, carving them up with their long razor-edged swords.

The white expanse was stained with black and red and silence fell over all.

Xeno took no part in the combat; it wasn’t necessary. He watched from Halys’s saddle and only when it was over did he dig in his heels to urge the steed towards the centre of the snow-free valley. He jumped to the ground and neared the hot spring, from which no sound issued. He crossed the cloud of steam and appeared to his comrades who were still sitting there, dazed at what they had seen and heard.

Xeno counted them. No one was missing.

‘Get out of there! Get dressed and take up your arms. At four stadia from here there’s everything you need: shelter, food, drink and fire to warm you. You’re out of danger now.’

Those young men stared at him as if he were a miraculous apparition, then they got out of the water without a word, put on their dry clothes, took up their arms and mounted the pack animals that Xeno had brought with him.

Death could wait.

Before morning they were at the village gates.

No one had ever seen such a place. There were at least ten large villages made up of houses with stone walls and thatched roofs, but under each house was another one, dug underneath. In those underground chambers were provisions of every sort and big jugs of beer. It was light and foamy, and quite delicious. There were chickens and geese as well, asses and mules, big barns full of hay and enough houses for all the men to find shelter.

It was warm there, finally. After so much suffering our men could curl up and sleep without alarms of any sort, without the midnight screams of marauders. Xeno began writing again, describing with the utmost precision the events that had taken place. He visited the villages one by one and took notes. Generals Cleanor, Timas, Agasias and Xanthi settled into the best houses with their women, and I went to visit Melissa, who was safe and sound and back with her Cleanor.

‘Now you’re a real woman,’ I told her, ‘a person who can face any trial in life. You’ve shown courage and compassion . . .’

‘I had to,’ she replied, laughing. ‘You made me.’

‘You’re right, but I knew I was doing the right thing. And I’m still sure of it.’

‘You called me a whore.’

‘I’m sorry. I was beside myself.’

‘I never had the chance to choose my own destiny, but I do have feelings and I always have. I’m a woman just like you are.’

‘Now I know.’

‘Don’t ever offend me again or I’ll scratch your eyes out.’

‘All right.’

‘How far are we from our destination?’