3.10 Hell

[date:-322|magadha,x]

To the unwitting observer, the line-up – rows as far as the eye could see, of armoured war-elephants and foot soldiers faced against phalanxes and cavalry – seemed like a war of proportions only ever heard of in the poetry of Hesoid and Homer.

The two greatest empires in the world – there was hardly any portion of the world that was not ruled by one of them – stood in line for battle, for the ultimate test of civilizations.

The eagle stood only some stadia from the elephant.

But Seleucus Nicator, the inheritor of Persia after the death of Alexander, was hardly unwitting.

He had raced his horse by the side of Alexander’s since the days of his youth – and had still done so during that landmark battle against Porus, and he had seen, for himself, the capacities of a small Indian state that covered hardly a strip of land. They had never lost nearly as many men as they had in India – and that was only to conquer some marginal territories far removed from the core base in the East that they had only recently learned about.

(“Marginal territories,” he had said once in jest, “Like, the Athens of the Indians!”)

“Brother,” Thera begged, “You are sending our men to India to die! You cannot do this … why not simply focus our efforts Westward?”

Even knowing all that she could tell him, Seleucus simply shook his head.

 “Thera … I do not know what the outcome will be in the West. Iran is all I have – and I must fight for every piece of land of mine that is threatened.”

“But you do know what the outcome will be in the East! We will lose – you know this … Why are you doing this, brother?”

“Do you remember, Thera, how King Porus sent his army to fight Alexander – fully aware, I’m sure, of his impending defeat?”

Thera nodded.

“He did so at the expense of his army, and almost at the expense of his entire country. But there was one matter of profit to him – do you know what that is?”

“That Alexander, by chance, showed him mercy and decided to appoint him as a satrap? Is that how you hope to be treated by the Indians now?”

“It destroyed our ambitions of marching further East. It showed us the might of Indian steel – we realized that if this minor chieftain of an insignificant territory could almost equal the strength of the yet-invincible Macedonian army … we truly stood no chance against the Easterners – and this, he did for the countries to his East, which he did not even rule, out of a loyalty towards his race. In this battle, I am Porus, and the Indians are the Greeks – and I must show them the might of my steel – so that even if they take our territories within India, no one of them will ever think to march towards Persia.”

“To send a message,” Thera repeated bitterly, “And how many Greek lives is that one message worth?”

“Why, to Leonidas,” Seleucus remarked, “it was worth the entire world.”

The Greek army – despite all that they had been forewarned by their commanders – had retained in their minds a much less threatening picture of the Magadhi army. For it was quite difficult for the mind to imagine numbers and countries so large – it was impossible to fathom what it meant for an army to be a “hundred times the size” of Porus’s, for a country to be as geographically vast as Iran, but with the density of Egypt.

The Indian elephantry stood like a wall before them, stretching into the horizon in both directions for.

(Out of either suicidal intent or utter insanity, the commanders ordered the Greek infantry to charge at that armoured wall.)

The stadia between them shrunk—

(He did not quite know what to expect, when the two armies collided – it was as if his mind imagined the elephants would just … stop … perhaps if he roared at them with sufficient fierceness … ?)

The elephants did not slow down.

(Nikomakhos panicked – but recalled his order, to never step backwards, an obvious order at the time, but now seemed a ridiculous death wish, only retaining its force due to the discipline that had been drilled into him – but surely the commanders had planned something that wouldn’t lead to their utter annihilation within minutes … !)

Surround the beasts! Surround them!

(It was not like the Greeks were hopelessly outmatched – any phalanx formation other than the Macedonian phalanx would surely have been immediately obliterated, but the depth of the Macedonian phalanx allowed it to stab at the beasts’ legs with an entire matrix of spears.)

The elephants were heavily armoured, even in their legs.

And they were equipped with giant tree trunks and spiked metal plates and other terror-inducing contravariances that could utterly obliterate the Greek formations if used effectively.

(And then a horrible thought struck Nikomakhos – and he so dearly wished he would just stop being struck by all these thoughts – just stop thinking in the middle of a battle and just fight his part like had been told to, he had the strength in him to endure a thousand wounds but not to live every moment of his life in the dreadful fear of death—)

There was a magnitude of difference between fighting a few scattered elephants deployed on a battlefield – which was already hard enough – and fighting an elephantry – thousands of elephants marching in formation, supporting each other and equipped with various weapons and logistical conveniences.

The first was like surrounding a fortress and scaling it.

The second … the second truly had no analog in ordinary experience. It was as if the battlefield itself had turned into a city of fortresses, all operating in some horrifyingly efficient synchrony, as if they had inexplicably found themselves inside the jaws of a Corinthian automaton that had turned evil, to be chewed up and spit out.

And the Greek commanders seemed to simply have ignored – out of lack of imaginativeness, or purely wishful thinking – this simple, obvious fact.

The archers mounted on the elephant were not aiming at them at all. They were aiming over them – at the backs of the soldiers in another phalanx.

(A horrible, freezing sensation –

NO—NO—

Denial

THEY NEEDED ARMOUR THAT FULLY COVERED THEIR BACKS—

He screamed

An arrow stuck out of his compatriot’s neck—

And another one fell—)

The formations were breaking.

The cavalry was called in urgently, to cover the phalanxes from the back with their shields – a sort of demeaning task they had never been assigned to—

(And Nikomakhos knew his life was about to end.)

Discipline was breaking.

The soldiers were screaming.

“We’ll cover you!” cried the cavalry, “Hold formations!”

But those elephants that had already broken out began to rampage openly, scattering the terrified horses—

And the Greek strategy of surrounding elephants individually had left enormous empty spaces on the battlefield for the Indian infantry and cavalry to charge in, killing the Greek horses – tossing the barely armoured Greek cavalrymen onto the open battleground, vulnerable and directionless.

(Do you now see my wisdom, Supushpa, in keeping the majority of the army in reserve? asked Vrishabhadutta, the Indian companion of Speusippos.

The commander grunted.

This new commander we are fighting … his advisor is of most feared strategic acumen in all India – we needed to learn his strategy with a test.

What do you suggest we do now, Rasobdatus?

The Indian hummed thoughtfully.

There are only four known ways to fight elephants, he said. One – through a prior set-up to sabotage the elephantry from the inside by means of treason – which we haven’t done. Two – by frightening the elephants and causing them to run out of their mahouts’ control, against the invading army itself – but this army seems much too disciplined for such strategies to work—

Get to the point faster, Rasobdatus!

Three – by using a larger elephantry against it – which we don’t have.

Rasobdatus! My men are dying! What should I do?

Avoid the elephants entirely, by going around them. The Greek army has mobility, so this will work.

But, Rasobdatus, that would be a logistical miracle—

Do it.)

At the new orders, the Greeks dropped their heavy shields and spears and split into two, running sideways (and a little backward, to compensate for the forward push of the Indian forces). The Indian commanders had ordered their forces to not attempt pursuing the Greek army but instead simply march forward at a disciplined pace – for they did not want to open up wide gaps between their elephants.

(Speusippos beamed with pride. His forces – his forces – successfully completed a close and most risky maneouvre – flanking the entire Indian army. The Indian elephantry, under orders to keep marching forward, had no systematic means of pursuing his forces any longer. His forces were only minutes away from being firmly inside Indian territory, only days away from completely cutting off Indian supply lines, only weeks away from reclaiming the territory that the Easterners had taken from them and dealing a severe blow to them, and only years away from launching an attack on the Easterners’ territory itself!

The aged Macedonian champion – a celebrated hero of so many wars that he had fought for Phillip, then Alexander, and now Seleucus – had seen the face of Seleucus, seen the resigned defeat in his eyes. But this had not deterred the old veteran from stepping up to the challenge, offering his leadership in this battle. For all those wrinkles of old age, all those scars of battle – they had not been on his spirit, his resolve, those remaining traces of that optimism that had once marked his youthful masculinity.

He had taken an expert Indian advisor who was familiar with the enemy, he had reinstated that old combination of heroism and discipline that had taken root under Alexander, done all that was possible to win this war that all seemed to think was unwinnable – inspired his soldiers, declaring: as Alexander defeated what was then the greatest empire known to us, we shall defeat the greatest empire known to us now! – for such is the spirit of the Greeks, that we rise to defeat every challenge that once appeared to be unsurmountable!

He would finally be recognized for all that he had done for the throne of Macedon, finally rewarded with more than just a dozen titles – he would accomplish, at this age, what even Alexander could not achieve – give some meaning to his life after all these years – have his own country to rule–)

And then the first bombs exploded.

Smoke.

Smoke everywhere.

Horrid, invisible, devices that exploded – like small volcanoes, but made by men – when tread on, releasing thick black fumes that would almost certainly kill any man who breathed it.

The mines were ahead, they were along the outer sides, and the elephantry on the inner side.

The Greek soldiers turned around, ready to retreat—

But the heavy Indian cavalry had rushed in to block the entrance to the trap, and was closing in.

(Speusippos cried out—

“The smoke is a feint! It is not poisonous! Do not retreat!”)

Even if they had been able to hear him, they would not have cared.

They would not have trusted the words of a lunatic commander who was willing to sacrifice his men’s lives for his fantastical dreams.

The Greeks who had been caught in the trap dropped their arms in surrender.

And those who didn’t, rushed back in a rout – pursued by the Indian cavalry that was emerging from between the legs of their elephants.

(The old champion watched in dismay, as the whole world that he had built up in his mind came crashing down – none of his dreams to reach fruition—

“Do not retreat! Stay and fight! Tell your compatriots to rush through the smoke! I beg you!”)

Not one Greek made it back to hear his words.

(NO.

I DO NOT ALLOW THIS TO HAPPEN.

THE WORLD IS MINE, AND I WILL NOT ALLOW IT TO BEHAVE THIS WAY AGAINST ME.)

Speusippos took to his steed.

“Supushpa—” Vrishabhadutta started.

“I do not know if you have betrayed me, my friend.”

(The Greek commander’s voice had gained a certain clarity – a disillusionment, or at least what he believed to be a disillusionment.)

“But I do know this – none of these traps, none of this deception, none of this cunning of the Indians, can match the will of this old Macedonian. If no one in my army wishes to follow me – to accompany me to my glory – then so be it! This Speusippos alone shall channel the might of all the gods – I alone will be the human representative of those gods who brought us this far – and will for us to go much further!”

With a guttural roar, and armed with nothing but a sword and shield – with not a single companion by his side, for Vrishabhadutta would not allow it – the old Greek champion charged against the army of the greatest empire known to the world.

He fell dead to a stray arrow to the neck.