Chapter 50

Athens was surrounded. As winter crept upon us and December dawned, my Army had dug into positions around Athens and settled in for a siege. Our Trebuchets hammered the walls as days turned to nights, my siege engineers working in shifts in order to ensure a consistent level of fire from the massive siege engines. The consistent barrage ensured that not only would we be able to assault in a matter of less than a fortnight, but that the Athenian Defenders would get little rest the whole time, as they were forced to constantly fight fires from trebuchet shots coated in flaming pitch that occasionally arced over the crumbling walls.

Mind you, those flaming projectiles were only flung every so often. The City and its vast wealth, I preferred to take as intact as possible. It was the Boule that I wanted dead, not the overwhelming majority of the populace, after all. A city reduced to ashes and skeletons couldn't make me money when I was finished conquering it, you see. Therefore, I only authorized such incendiary projectiles to be launched every few hours. Enough to keep the defenders on four hours or less of sleep a night, but not anything else. In fact, after a few days of that, I halted the incendiaries altogether, giving Athens a day or so of normal bombardment before resuming the odd incendiary.

It was definitely effective. Polyarchos' Aitolian Scouts had timed the Athenian's Fire Response and it had slowed dramatically. We were running the defenders ragged all while our siege engines hammered the walls, forming breaches and widening them. After six days, we had three breaches in the walls of Athens. After nine, we had six, and reinforcements came up from the Spartan Forces in the South to bolster our own troops, having been allowed to pass into Attica by Megara, which had surrendered a while ago.

The time would soon come to assault the City and take my revenge on the Boule who thought they could simply solve the problems I presented with assassination. Before that, though I had to ready my forces and meet with my allies to plan out the assault. Both Archidamos the Fourth and Polyarchos were more than willing to defer to my judgment on the planning since doing so thus far had allowed them to reap massive victories. As we sat down in my command tent to plan, however, it seemed that the Athenians had gotten desperate enough to attempt to launch a final sortie to try and push us out of our siege positions.

We had just sat down when a massive battle cry erupted from the breaches. Prompting Archidamos to bolt upright in his seat and Polyarchos to reach for his Xiphos.

"What was that?" Demanded Archidamos.

"It sounded like the Athenians are trying a final sortie. It's nothing to be worried about, this is hardly the first time and they'll not fare any better after more deprivation." I scoffed.

"Still, should we not be prepared just in case?" Questioned Polyarchos.

"Aye, if there's one thing you can count on this effete lot of philosophers and boy-lovers to be it's sneaky. They may have some fresh tactic we haven't seen yet that they'll try." Agreed Archidamos.

"Ptolemy, what say you? Up for a bit of lead from the front?" I queried, looking over at my Son.

Ptolemy had been acting as an aide to me after Elutherae, as I had called him here from Epirus just in time to witness the Final Defeat of Athens. He'd primarily been learning military procedures and doing paperwork. Now, however, I might as well take him into a proper battle. He would have to be blooded at some point on more than just boar hunts, after all. Some might say he was too young, at just sixteen, but that was the age that Alexandros Megas had fought his first battle at, and Pyrrhus had been even younger before I had taken over his body, fighting his first battle at only thirteen.

"Of course, Father. I am sure that together, we'll see off Athens' dying gasp." Nodded Ptolemy.

"Hah! Your son has Spirit, Pyrrhus!" Laughed Archidamos.

"Indeed. I suppose it is to be expected from the Cousins on Alexandros Megas." Smirked Polyarchos.

Then together, Ptolemy, Archidamos, Polyarchos, and I made our way toward the sounds of battle, gathering our respective bodyguard troops to us as we did so. My own bodyguards were Generalists, capable of fighting both as Thorakitai and as Kataphractoi, but Archidamos' were proper Hoplites and Polyarchos' were the Peltasts that the Aitolians were so famed for. Together, we gathered a mixed force of around one-hundred-fifty troops to reinforce the front.

As we arrived, the fighting was unexpectedly fierce. Athenian Hoplites with their shields painted with the Gorgoneion fought with Spear and Xiphos, trying desperately to break through the siege lines. In one place, they were getting dangerously close to doing so as well. A phalanx of Athenian Hoplites had crashed into a section of the siege lines being held by Aitolian Peltasts in their light armor, with their light shields and light equipment. The Aitolians fought back, refusing to break, but they were close to being overrun.

"Look! There!" Called out Archidamos.

"I see them! That's where we need to head!" Confirmed Polyarchos.

"Right. Ptolemy, stick close to me. Whatever happens, remember your training and don't break ranks, understand?" I asked my son.

"I understand, Father. Let's get them!" Nodded Ptolemy.

And like that, our mixed force, with the trio of bodyguard units, rushed forth to bolster the flagging Aitolian Defenders. It began with a hail of steel-tipped javelins from Polyarchos' Bodyguards that arced high into the air and came down amongst the Athenians like Thunderbolts from Zeus' own hand, scything down several of the middle ranks. Next, Archidamos' Bodyguard with their distinctive brass-coated shields and steel scale thorax and dory slammed into the Athenians, pinning them in place between themselves and the flagging Aitolians. Finally, my own Thorakitai arced around to the rear, enveloping the Athenians before they could begin to sort themselves out enough to withdraw.

My own dory punched through the linothorax of an Athenian Hoplite before he could move his shield to block and he went down, taking my spear with him. His comrade moved to fill the gap only for me to plant my boot into his shield, the sudden push knocking him back and allowing me to draw my falcata, hacking down through the wooden haft of his Dory, shearing it in half before cutting out his throat. To my right, Ptolemy's own spear managed to punch through the iron mail thorax of an Athenian and spear him through the shoulder, pinning him against the ground where he was trampled to death by his comrade.

Inwardly, I winced, as that was not a pleasant sight for a first kill. I had little time to gawk, however, as Ptolemy, shaken by his first kill, hunkered down behind his shield and was being pushed back by one of the Athenians. I moved to his aid, parrying the Athenian's spear strike on my shield and nudging my son with my shoulder. He looked up and I nodded at him before turning back to the fighting. That seemed to do the trick, as while I parried the Athenian's spear strike with my Shield, Ptolemy let out a shout and drew his own falcata, hacking away at the Athenian's head and knocking off his iron helm from the force of the blow. Ptolemy then smashed his own shield into the Athenian's throat, breaking his windpipe and sending him down to the ground.

My son was pushing aside the horrors to do his duty, but I could tell he was going to be sick after this was all over with. That was good, a King shouldn't take lives so easily without some form of revulsion. Ptolemy managing to shove that response aside to do his duty spoke well of him. As we continued to fight, I felt pride in my son well up inside me once again. He'd be a fine ruler when I was dead and buried, I think.

Ptolemy and I killed two more Athenians, one apiece, before the flagging Aitolians Rallied with cries of 'The Kings!' and 'Strategos!' as they spotted that Archidamos, Polyarchos, and I were fighting alongside them. That renewed assault, combined with our own attack and the Athenian's fatigue turned this from a losing fight to a victory. The Athenians, the force of their charge spent, began throwing down their weapons in surrender. As this happened, the other Athenian Forces began to withdraw, routing back toward their city. Very few of them made it, with most who hadn't been killed or surrendered during their attempted sortie being cut down by my Kataphractoi, Spartan Companion Cavalry, or Aitolian Tarantine-Style Light Cavalry.

As the battle in the camps died down and the last of the Athenians made their way back behind the dubious safety of their breached walls, Archidamos came up to me. His steel scale thorax was covered in a slick of blood running down the front. He nodded to me and I returned the gesture, motioning to the front of his armor.

"Oh, this? It's not mine. Caught an Athenian in the jugular and he toppled into me as he bled out." Mused Archidamos.

"I think we've bled the Athenians enough." I insisted.

"I agree." Concurred Polyarchos as he made his way over, wiping the blade of his Falcata with a cloth.

"Aye, they're at the precipice. A short, sharp shock will push them down the cliffside." Nodded Archidamos.

"Then if we're all in agreement, we'll assault the city tomorrow at noon. The Aitolians will take the breaches to the North, Sparta the ones to the south, and Epirus the ones to the west. Athens will fall tomorrow, friends and we will be the ones to push it." I nodded.

"Aye, may Ares smile on us." Affirmed Archidamos.

"Tyche and the Fates too. I doubt Athens will be our death except by chance, after all." Smirked Polyarchos.

Just then, I heard the noise of puking off to my right. Ptolemy, my son who had just slain his first men in his first battle, could push aside his rising gorge no longer and was busily emptying the half-digested contents of his dinner out onto the muddy ground.

"Excuse me. I must see to my son." I intoned.

And the rest of the evening was spent with me consoling my son about his first battle and first kills. He had taken it hard but understood the necessity of war. He'd do fine when I was gone. All the same, I would keep him back to manage the reserves tomorrow. You had to ease into things when it came to war and combat or you'd break.

And I loved my son too much to break him. . .

XXXX

Amynomachus of the Boule was worried. Their assassins had clearly failed and now Athens herself was on the eve of a sack. He'd of course called a meeting of the Epicurean Faction of the Boule to attempt to decide on a course of action. The Stoic Party had, of course, called their own meeting, with Chremonides himself leading a last, major, sally out of the City to attempt to break the Enemy Siege Lines. He'd failed, returning to the City with a wound that was already beginning to fester.

Now, the chief members of the Epicurean Faction of the Athenian Boule were gathered in an antechamber of the Court of the Areopagus to try and sort things out. Amynomachus as the heir of Epicurus, Telecles the Current Eponymous Archon of Athens, Lachares, the former Strategos and noted Demegogue, and Orias the previous Eponymous Archon of Athens. Really, it was Lachares who had called them together, since he was the power behind the past several Eponymous Archons, or Chief Magistrates of Athens, and thus, the de facto head of the Epicurean Faction.

Amynomachus suppressed a wince at that thought. Of course, the Epicurean Faction that was currently in power was called that, but that didn't make the bulk of the Faction followers of Epicurus. Indeed, many of the most influential members of their faction held no philosophical stance outside of what could best benefit themselves and their business interests. Those interests had aligned with the more hawkish stoics at the start of the War, allowing Chremonides to wage the war he wanted, as Epirote and Epirote Allies dominating trade was no good for Athens' Merchants, of which Lachares, Telecles, and Orias controlled no small number of.

"It is official, I have just heard from the Physic. Chremonides will not outlive the War he started. It seems that after he was wounded, he fell to the ground during the slaughter and filth got into his wound. The Physic cannot save him and is doubtful that even the pastes and poultices of Epirus would be able to keep him from the Styx." Informed Lachares.

"So what is our course now?" Questioned Telecles.

"Isn't it obvious? We have to make peace now before the City is assaulted!" Hissed Orias.

"Is that the wisdom of the former Chief Magistrate? I think it's too late for that, not after we paid assassins to attempt to kill Pyrrhus in his sleep." Scoffed Amynomachus.

"Is that so? Did not the assassins fail? Surely Pyrrhus can see that such is only to be expected in times of war?" Queried Orias.

"What do you think?" Deadpanned Lachares.

"Lachares and Amynomachus are correct. That time is past, if it was ever an option to begin with." Intoned Telecles.

"Which brings us back to the original question, what now?" Asked Amynomachus.

"I don't know about you, but were I Pyrrhus King, I would seek revenge for such a personal attack. He may be looking to purge the Boule of any who might have ordered such an attack." Theorized Lachares.

"Surely not?" Questioned Orias.

"I think that is exactly what he will do. I would think that being present on the Areopagus at any point in the near future might be hazardous to one's health." Insisted Telecles.

"Then what I propose is this. When Pyrrhus attacks the City, we dress as slaves or metics and attempt to escape notice. When travel becomes available again, we attempt to flee the city." Hedged Lachares.

"I have some coin tucked away for emergencies. I presume the rest of you do as well?" Queried Telecles.

"Indeed. With the Citizenry as rambunctious as it tends to be at times, that's only prudent." Nodded Orias.

"I don't have such caches. I'll need to search my Home for traveling funds." Sighed Amynomachus.

It was true that while he had vast wealth, much of it was tied up in various ventures, a pottery works, a vineyard, olive groves, and so on. Amynomachus had not yet gotten into the habit of keeping caches of coin lying around in case of trouble. He was young, after all, and only recently elected to the Boule as it became clear that he was the main heir of the Late Epicurus.

"Take my advice, plunder from your businesses. At this point, the Drachmae will go to Epirus, the Aitolians, or worse, Sparta, if you don't use it to escape." Cautioned Lachares.

"That's all well and good, but where do we escape to?" Asked Orias.

"Not East. The Seleucids are allies of Pyrrhus." Frowned Amynomachus.

"Indeed, not North or South for similar reasons." Concurred Telecles.

"Then perhaps West to Rome? Or further afield to Masillia? They are often begging for immigrants to help spread the light of Hellenism on the barbaric shores of Gaul, after all." Offered Lachares.

"It seems the likeliest bet. I would be wary of Rome, however. The Romans are none too fond of we Greeks at the moment." Warned Amynomachus.

"Masillia, then." Nodded Orias.

"It just so happens that I have a cousin who sits on the Masillian Council as one of the Six-hundred Timouchoi. We might get seats ourselves if we play this right." Added Telecles.

And so their course was set. They would assume the guise of metics, use hidden caches of drachmae, and when the situation allowed for travel again, leave the City for Massilia. It would be a difficult journey, but it would have to be borne to save their skins. Amynomachus was resigned to the trip almost as soon as the idea was floated. They would have to make their preparations soon, tonight, if possible. After all, it was likely the city would be assaulted tomorrow. If they weren't prepared by that point, they would likely be caught up in whatever Purge that Pyrrhus had in store for the Boule.

And compared to such a death, Amynomachus would undertake such hasty preparations for a long and arduous journey gladly. He and his compatriots were not the only ones to flee. Orias let word filter to those who had knowledge of the Assassination Plot, and fully a third of the Epicurean Faction took the advice, a full tenth of the Boule. The others, unreachable as they had retired for the evening or were prepared to throw themselves on the Mercy of Pyrrhus of Epirus, would have to sink or swim on their own. Amynomachus certainly wasn't prepared to count himself among their number.

No, he would, for once, do the sensible thing and stick to the plan, for all the good it would do him. . .

XXXX

As noon dawned the following day, my forces prepared to assault the City of Athens. Funnily enough, just before we were set to assault the City, a group of messengers under a banner of parley approached our camp. They were being led by a man in armor who I did not recognize. I called a halt to our assault, though I doubted whatever they would say now would stay my hand for long, but I could afford to hear them out. It wasn't as if Athens was going anywhere.

"Hail Pyrrhus, King of Epirus. Hail Polyarchos, Strategos of Aitolia, Hail Archidamos, King of Sparta. We come before you in the hopes that our actions may spare Athens, the shining jewel of democracy, a sack at the hands of your victorious armies." Bowed the leader.

His followers bowed as well, all garbed in linothorax, though none quite as senior as the leader. Many of them were no older than Amynomachus or Timocrates had been. That wasn't the case for their leader, who clearly was a man of experience. I could tell from the way he carried himself even if he wasn't clearly well into middle-age already.

"You think groveling will impress us?" Demanded Archidamos.

"Archidamos, peace. Let us at least hear them out before we reject their proposal out of hand." Smirked Polyarchos.

"Hold, friends. Let us hear what Athens' dying words are. Mayhaps they might have something to say that will even spare them a harsh death blow for something easier." I insisted.

"My thanks, Pyrrhus King." Offered the Leader, still on one knee.

"Rise. Tell me, who are you who comes to treat with us? I do not recognize your face and would know the name of the man with whom I will be bargaining if such is to be your fate." I questioned.

"I am Diotimos of Euonymon, former Eponymous Archon, Former Strategos, and current sitting member of the Boule for the Deme of Eunymeia. I had the privilege of being a member of Chremonides' Stoic Faction in the Boule." Answered the Leader.

"I see. I know of you only by reputation, I'm afraid. I daresay had you been Strategos, this war would not have been quite so easy." I praised.

It was true, Ditimos was known as a tested and veteran commander, a hero of the Independence War against Macedon. That they kept him back in Athens Proper instead of giving him a field command was a testament to how petty power politics in the Boule had made Athens somewhat less effective than it should have been in the war.

"Wait, did you say had the privilege?" Queried Polyarchos.

"I did. Chremonides is at Chiron's Dock as we speak. The Physics say he will not last the day. Apparently, he received a wound last night during the sally and then fell to the mud, where filth got into it. By the time he was seen to, the wound had turned foul." Informed Diotimos.

"Ha! Chremonides had been angling for war for years, now that he's had it, it's killed him! I'm not sure what your Philosophers would say about that, but I'd call it poetic justice!" Snorted Archidamos.

"It does rather seem like something out of a tragedy." Mused Polyarchos.

"Perhaps, or perhaps the Gods simply favor us. Either way, I should like to hear what terms you are thinking of." I demanded.

"Of course. Athens is willing to submit to Epirus under the condition that the Boule be allowed to continue in some form, even if only as a perfunctory organ. This was the agreement we had with Alexandros Megas, and that Cassander almost immediately broke by installing his own governor on Alexandros Megas' death, resulting in our war for independence." Offered Diotimos.

"And what of those members of the Boule who conspired to assassinate me in my sleep? There must be a reckoning and any members who had a hand in such foul deeds must pay for them." I asked.

"Fully a third of them are in hiding. I would offer what remains of the Stoic Faction to help arrest the others for trial." Answered Diotimos.

"What of the division of territories we agreed on?" Demanded Archidamos.

"Indeed, the Synedrion will ratify no treaty on borders aside from the ones that we agreed upon." Insisted Polyarchos.

"I am pledged before the sight of the Gods to agree. Should I agree to this proposal, the City of Athens may continue on with their Boule as wax stylus of sorts to my decrees, but her outlying territories will be forfeit." I intoned.

"Much as such a loss might pain the Boule, it would be better than the alternative, and besides, those who might object to such a thing most vociferously are either slain on the field of battle or likely to be purged in the aftermath of your victory." Shrugged Diotimos.

"And you speak for the Stoic Faction? And the defenders of the City?" I pressed.

"What is left of them? Yes, I do." Nodded Diotimos.

"Then on these conditions, I will accept Athens' Surrender." I agreed.

And just like that, the war was over. The War With Athens had ended. The Peace of Attica would be enforced, the stipulations of which limited the Boule to one-hundred-twenty members, all of the seats of which were, incidentally, filled by either members of the Stoic Faction or members I appointed. The Boule's powers would be limited to domestic affairs of the City of Athens itself, and the territories and allies of Athens would be divided up between the victorious powers, with Epirus getting Attica, Euboea, and the Islands, along with Athens Proper as a vassal, Boeotia Going to the Aitolian League, and Sparta getting Achaea and Korinthos, plus the remaining bits of Crete as a vassal.

As we settled in for the winter, the purge of the Epicurean Faction and their allies began in earnest. It would be a long and bloody ordeal, but in the end, we would round up most of the Epicurean Faction and their allies who had attempted to prolong the war and have me assassinated, including Amynomachus, the so-called heir of Epicurus. Only a handful of the Epicurean Faction managed to escape the incoming purge. Unfortunately, two of the leaders of it, Lachares and Telecles would be among the handful that escaped. I wouldn't find out until a few years later that they had gone to Massilia.

When I did, it would cause problems for me, but that was in the future. . .

XXXX

AN: All right, so here we see how things have played out. Athens has been reduced to the state of a vassal, with a Boule that has drastically been limited and is now effectively a rubber stamp, just as it had been under Alexander. Athens also lost all of its outlying territory outside of the City of Athens itself to the victorious powers, a partition that means even if it should regain its independence, it will never be any kind of actual power. And of course, there is a purge going on of Boule Members of the faction that tried to assassinate Pyrrhus.

This is, effectively, the end of the Athenian War. I'll have a map up shortly, though you'll have to bear with the hasty paint edit, as I am no good with maps otherwise. After that, we'll have more interludes from elsewhere as we see what has happened in other parts of the world during two-seventy-nine.

Stay tuned. . .