The Queen of Sparta (25 page)

Two Roman legions, the Third and the Fourth – each four thousand strong – marched out of Rome. The Third Legion was nicknamed the
Sublician
after the bridge in Rome where a generation before, a handful of its soldiers under the command of a legendary officer, Horatius, tried to check the advance of forces of the invading Etruscan warlord, Laris Pu-ra’senna. The Fourth Legion was called the
Caelian
after one of Rome’s seven hills. Ironically, this was where Etruscan settlers had made their home. Now the descendants of these immigrants were marching out to defend Rome against the compatriots of their fathers.

On the way, the Romans were joined, near Cremera, by two
Alae
– or brigades – of allied Latin infantry – each roughly the same size as a Roman legion. The Romans always demanded that their allies sent an equivalent force of troops whenever they went to war and the Latins invariably complied. But what Sherzada had not been expecting was the squadron of Lucanian cavalry which also arrived at Cremera. Lucanians were by far the best cavalrymen in all Italy, but they were very far from their homelands in the south. He wondered what business they had this far north. Marcus Fabius, Sherzada soon learnt, had hired them as mercenaries. A large force of retainers from Cremera loyal only to the Fabian clan – effectively, their private militia – also appeared. Many of them were relatives of those killed by Telumnas in cold blood. They were spoiling for revenge. Still, he did not know the significance of these new arrivals until they reached the battlefield at Fidenae.

That night the senior centurion of the Third Legion, a Plebian by the name of Publius Decius, came to see Marcus Fabius in his tent with a complaint. Sherzada was there, along with Fabius and some of the other officers – Patricians all – to plan the battle ahead. Decius was a thin little man with facial features not unlike those of a rodent; and that, together with his unusually squeaky voice, earned him the nickname
Mus
or Mouse. But Mus was respected among the rank and file to be a courageous man and competent leader. The complaint that Mus brought with him was that the legionaries had been issued with defective spears.

As part of Rome’s obsession with innovation, a new type of spear had been experimented with. It was supposed to have a powerful sharp iron head and an elongated metal neck to ensure deeper penetration. The Etruscans were famous for their shield wall; a formation very similar to the Greek phalanx which was practically impossible to breach or dislodge. The spear had been designed to pierce right through their shields, rendering them useless. If there were no shields, there could not be a shield wall; so ran the logic.

What seemed like a very good idea did not quite work in practice. Publius Decius Mus said that though the spearhead was strong enough to pierce the shield, the long neck could not aid any further penetration as it tended to bend under pressure. To prove his point, Mus asked Sherzada to hold up a shield while he tried to punch one of the defective spears through it.

For a small man he had considerable strength and thrust the spear into the shield Sherzada was holding. He was right. While the spearhead lodged itself firmly into the shield, the neck of the spear bent, making further penetration impossible.

Leaving Sherzada holding a shield with an awkward spear hanging down from it, Mus turned to the Consul, Marcus Fabius, and said, “Sir, with respect, the men cannot be expected to face the enemy with a weapon like this. If you want them to fight tomorrow, you will have to give them something better.”

Mus did not wait for an answer. He saluted Marcus and smartly turning about face, marched out of the tent. While he struggled to remove the bent spear from the shield, Sherzada overheard some of the officers whispering to each other.

“See, I told you. The Plebians will come up with any excuse not to fight,” said one officer.

“All the soldiers have been issued with swords. If the spears don’t work they can always use those,” said another.

“I bet, if we ask them to use their swords, they will tell us that they won’t work either. The Plebians have no intention of fighting the enemy tomorrow, unless we give in to their demands and those of their demagogues back in Rome.”

Even though Sherzada tried to make the point that Mus was right about the spear being defective, it seemed that the Patricians had made up their minds.

In the morning, as the sun rose, the Roman legionaries formed up on the parade ground in the stockade, awaiting orders for battle. Instead, Marcus Fabius ordered them to lay down their swords, shields and spears. He said that new equipment would soon be issued to the soldiers. They did as they were told and the equipment was collected by the officers and taken outside.

Once outside the stockade, Fabius had the gates of the stockade barred from the outside, thus imprisoning the entire – now disarmed – rank and file of the two Roman legions, comprising entirely of the Plebian class. From behind the gate, the soldiers shouted out their entreaties. They pleaded that they wanted nothing more than to fight for Rome. They said while they had concerns about the spears, it did not mean that they did not want to fight the Etruscans. They even swore by their gods that they would fight until victory or death. Publius Decius Mus in particular vowed to sacrifice his life, if he were given a chance to win the day.

Finally, a young military tribune from the Fourth Legion, Aulus Antonius, stepped forward and demanded that the Fourth Legion be released. He said the
Caelians
had fought loyally for Rome and with distinction in every battle. He vouched for their discipline and courage. But Marcus Fabius Vibullanus remained unmoved. Throwing down his weapons, Antonius insisted that he too be incarcerated with his men.

“You are a coward just like the rest of them,” said Marcus. “I will deal with you later.”

As Aulus Antonius was taken away to the stockade, he fixed his gaze on Sherzada. It was a reproachful look, demanding that he do something. Sherzada had befriended Antonius during the march and knew he was a man of principle. And his look made Sherzada feel guilty. His act was neither that of cowardice or treachery; it was one of courage, equal to any other on the field of battle.

Marcus Fabius, however, did not see it that way. Like the other Patrician officers he was convinced that the Plebs were bent on political agitation; to cause trouble, as they had done in every previous campaign. “Better to lock them up right now than risk having to deal with them in front of the enemy,” Marcus said.

Thus a large part of the Roman army was incarcerated by their fellow Romans and their own allies as the enemy looked on.

“Had I been on the Etruscan side,” thought Sherzada, “nothing would have been exhilarating and assuring of victory than such a sight.” In any case, the Etruscans already outnumbered the Roman-led force by three to one.

So when the battle began, the Etruscans had no problem dislodging the Roman-led army, or at least the part of it not imprisoned, from the steep hill on which it was deployed. Marcus Fabius did not see this as anything more than a temporary setback and immediately launched an attack to retake the hill. In spite of the fierce attack, the Romans and their allies were repulsed with heavy casualties. The Etruscan shield wall remained undented. Among those who fell was Marcus’ brother Quintus; the other serving Consul Gnaeus Manlius; as well as Gavius Hostilius, commander of the Roman cavalry. Marcus Fabius told Sherzada to take the latter’s place. And, yet again, Marcus ordered his men to take back the hill. But his Lucanian and the Latin allies had had enough. They said that charging up a hill to face an enemy several times their number was suicide. They simply refused to attack.

It was at that point Sherzada asked Marcus to allow the Plebs to fight.

“Are you out of your mind?” he said.

“You have no choice, Marcus,” said Sherzada, “and by the way, I think that defective spear might well be the key to our victory.”

“You really have lost your mind, haven’t you?”

“It is you who have lost your mind. Your brother lies dead along with some of your best commanders. So will you and I if we continue this course of action. This battle is as good as lost; unless we let the Plebs fight. If we don’t, there will be nothing between this Etruscan army and Rome.”

“Let them out,” spat Fabius. Then he turned to Sherzada. “What did you say about the defective spear being the key to our victory?”

The Plebs were freed and given back their arms. But they refused to serve under the command of those who had interred them. The Third Legion wanted Decius Mus to lead them, and the Fourth, Aulus Antonius. And so it was decided. Sherzada went over to both of them and suggested what might win the battle for them.

“You mean you want us to attack the Etruscan shield wall with those useless spears?” asked a shocked Mus.

Marcus formed up the two Latin infantry
Alae
and his militiamen once again and led them up the steep hill against the Etruscan shield wall. The attack failed and his force fell back in panic. The Etruscans, sensing victory, chased after them down the hill. The wall of shields began to lose a little cohesion as they ran down.

As the Etruscan warriors came crashing down the hill, the two Roman legions charged their left flank from concealed positions with the war-cry
Victoria aut mors
– ‘victory or death’. The Etruscan left turned to meet the new threat. The Romans, instead of charging with their spears, hurled them at the Etruscan shields, which surprised the Etruscans no end. The spears, piercing the metallic boss, harmlessly transfixed themselves into their shields. The long twisted necks of the spears became bent, and the shafts began to hang down from the front of the Etruscan shields. They became heavy and awkward to carry. The Etruscans tried to remove the spears in vain as the Romans rapidly began to close in on them. The Etruscan warriors were struggling to keep their shields up when Mus’ men attacked them with their swords. Their Etruscan shields, being pulled down by the spear shaft, became useless. Unable to use their shields, the Etruscans’ shield wall began to crumble under the weight of the Roman onslaught.

So ferocious was Mus’ attack that the Etruscan army’s neat lines were severely convulsed. Mus, as he had vowed, died leading that charge. His last words were
Pro gloria Romae
– ‘for the glory of Rome’, as he led his men into a breach in the Etruscan line. The Mouse fell fighting like a lion. Following up, the Fourth Legion managed to puncture the Etruscan left flank and drive deep into its ranks. As this was happening on the Etruscan left flank, Marcus attacked the Etruscan right with his Cremeran militiamen and Latin allies.

In the meantime, concealed behind the woods, Sherzada had taken the Roman and Lucanian cavalry squadrons around to the rear of the Etruscans and rode up the hill behind their lines. He had just reached the summit when the Roman legions made contact with the Etruscan left flank down below. From the top of the hill, Sherzada charged the Etruscans. As he rode down the steep hill, he aimed his lance at the weakest part of the Etruscan formation. Hundreds of Roman and Lucanian lances followed his.

The Etruscans, already in disarray, were taken by complete surprise. Even though some turned to face the onslaught of Sherzada’s cavalry, they did not stand a chance. His lance found its mark in chest of an unprepared Etruscan warrior. A moment later, he heard the clash of arms. The shield wall had now been breached. Earlier that very day, every Etruscan warrior had been assured of victory; but now everything had changed.

The momentum of Sherzada’s downhill charge drove his lance deep into the Etruscan warrior’s chest; and pierced through his back. With his lance irretrievably stuck inside the enemy’s body, Sherzada let it go. He took out his sword and started slashing through the Etruscan ranks. But the shock of the Roman attack was already reverberating through the Etruscan lines, sowing fear in even their bravest warriors. Chaos was spreading. And as panic turned to terror, the Etruscans started to flee. Those who were away from the fighting peeled off first and then little by little, other sections of the Etruscan line followed, running away as fast as they could. Their army was rapidly losing strength as more and more Etruscans fled the field. By the time those in the Etruscan front lines in the thick of the fight realized no one covering their backs, it was already too late. Their enemies were upon them and there was no escape.

The Romans were now in battle frenzy. Drunk with victory, lusting for blood, they had no room for mercy in their hearts. Rome’s legions had triumphed. The day belonged to the
Sublicians
and the
Caelians
– the heroes of the Republic. Yet Marcus knew, as did Sherzada, that they had come close to defeat that day.

As he sat on that hill near Fidenae deep in thought, Sherzada heard a familiar voice.

“Highness, these Romans should know that were it not for you, they could never have won.” It was Menander. He bowed low.

“It’s about time, Menander,” Sherzada replied, “I should stop fighting other people’s wars.”

But then it occurred to him that if Menander was here, Gorgo must have sent him. “What news of Sparta?” he asked.

Menander gave a sigh and lowered his head. “Things are not going well in Sparta, Highness. The Eurypontid faction is becoming stronger. They are being led by young Archidamus, the grandson of Leotychidas. He has always been jealous of the Agiadae and wants to ensure that his branch of the royal family becomes dominant. Archidamus is attracting all kinds of reactionaries.

“But, Highness, the reason why I have been sent to you concerns Prince Pausanias. The Prince has resigned his regency and gone off to Byzantium, where he is preparing for battle against the Athenians, and not the Persians. Queen Gorgo is worried about him. She believes he is in real danger.”

Sherzada asked him why all this had happened.

“Highness,” Meanander replied. “It all started when Prince Pausanias captured Byzantium. After that, the Athenians turned against him. They accused him of all sorts of things – above all, of taking bribes from the Persians. The Prince was recalled to Sparta to stand trial at the Gerousia. But no evidence was found against him. Still, he was very angry. He announced he was no longer a regent of Sparta and returned to Byzantium to become its ruler. But once he returned, he got into more trouble with the Athenians, who now control a large part of Thrace and many of the nearby islands. They are determined to remove him from Byzantium, one way or another. That is why the Queen is concerned.