The river Halys at Guleshir - when Croesus crossed the river it meant war with Cyrus

 

By Theseustoo

Sandanis looked troubled as, seated on his horse in the centre of the front rank of Croesus’ massed forces, he surveyed the enemy’s ranks. Cyrus had arrived the previous evening under cover of the new moon; and had occupied the same position above the city, to observe it prior to attacking, as Croesus himself had done only a few days earlier. This however, did not surprise Harpagus in the least; for the low hill was the only piece of high ground in the broad and otherwise level plain which surrounded the small coastal city of Sinope on the landward side.

But the incredible speed with which he had mustered his forces and arrived even before winter had properly set in, had surprised both him and Croesus, neither of whom had been expecting to have to face Cyrus until the following spring, when their allies would be there to support them. As soon as the huge dust-cloud which indicated the position of Cyrus’ army was spotted Croesus immediately responded with a show of force by having his army parade in battle formation between Cyrus’ army and the city, demonstrating his willingness, if not his readiness, to defend his newly-seized Syrian territory.

The Persian horde, however, was also much bigger than Sandanis had imagined it would be; the momentum this revolution against Median suzerainty had gained was quite staggering, he thought. His spies had reported to him that Cyrus had given all of the cities he’d passed through an opportunity to levy a troop of volunteers to join his ranks and swell the size of his Persian army or else face subjection and enslavement. Many of these were the previously Median-dominated states and had joyfully welcomed Cyrus, seeing in him their liberator from the cruelty and oppression of the tyrant Astyages. Seeing now a potential threat rising from Lydia, such states had joined him willingly; and even eagerly; and had quickly supplied Cyrus with all the men, equipment and supplies he had requested for this expedition.

The few city-states who chose to resist the Persian horde soon realized the futility of their actions when they found themselves besieged by Cyrus’ vastly overwhelming forces. Faced with such overwhelming odds, even those city-states who resisted him; mostly those who were still tributaries to the Assyrians in Babylon; very soon capitulated. Individually they were just far too small to do more than put up token resistance anyway; and Cyrus had moved so swiftly against them that they had no time to coordinate their efforts. Those cities which still obstinately persisted in their resistance were quickly and thoroughly defeated; then their walls were torn down and reduced to rubble; and their inhabitants reduced to slavery.

Sandanis had not counted on this surprising willingness of the other states to join Cyrus’ cause; and he was especially surprised by the almost complete lack of resistance to his imperial claims and ambitions. Croesus’ advisors had also informed him that there was a prophecy which concerned Cyrus in an obscure century-old Hebrew text, the Book of Isaiah, which they said, named Cyrus as the Anointed One. In the light of recent events, however, he thought this could safely be ignored; Croesus, he firmly believed, was the true ‘Anointed One’; the true ‘Son of Heaven’…

But it troubled Sandanis somewhat that so many states had so willingly joined Cyrus’ cause. This Cyrus it seemed, was at the very least a man of charisma; and apparently very popular among his own people, as well as the people of many other nations. This spoke well of Cyrus’ character, he thought, grimly realising that it would make him a formidable enemy too. His master, Croesus, he now realized, was just about to commit himself irrevocably to an extremely bold and very dangerous course of action.

Was it possible that it had been a mistake to pick a fight with this fledgling Persian Empire in the first place? He could not help but wonder; and yet, thought Sandanis, at this point we could still retreat to Sardis without having to face Cyrus; although he realized that it would represent an embarrassing loss of face for Croesus to so easily relinquish a recently captured city. Even so, the general thought, at this moment it could still be done without any other serious losses; and they could always return in spring with their allies. With this in mind Sandanis turned to Croesus,

“Your majesty,” Sandanis said gravely, “before we commit ourselves irrevocably to this war, it is my duty to remind you that you are about to make war against men who wear leather trousers; who have all their other garments of leather; who do not feed on what they like, but on whatever they can get from a soil that is sterile and unkindly; who do not indulge in wine, but drink only water; who possess no figs nor anything else that is good to eat…”

Croesus appeared not to understand what Sandanis was getting at; he regarded his general quizzically; did he really think Croesus was such a coward as to retreat so easily at the first sight of the enemy? The puzzled frown with which Croesus now sternly regarded his general silently demanded further elucidation from the now embarrassed Sandanis, who coughed, a little nervously, and then continued quickly,

“So, if you conquer them, what can you get from them, seeing that they have nothing at all? But if they conquer you, consider how many precious things you will lose: and if they once get a taste of our pleasant things, they will keep such a hold of them that we shall never be able to make them loosen their grasp. For my part, I thank the gods that they have not put it into the hearts of the Persians to invade Lydia…”

Croesus was used to circumspection in his general; and he knew that Sandanis was not normally one to question his king. However, it is true, Croesus thought as he regarded the Persian host on the hill, that Cyrus’ army is much larger than either of us anticipated; and they have somehow managed to march them here much sooner than we expected; but he had never seen Sandanis quite so reluctant to fight.

Croesus knew from long experience that his general was anything but a coward; indeed, had he not been so confident of the gods’ goodwill himself, even he might have considered a cautious retreat to be the better course of action; at least until the spring, when their forces would be augmented by their allies. But now he knew for certain, he told himself, that the gods are on our side; and this is perhaps simply the first test he faced on his path to demi-godhood; after all, heroic feats, he reasoned, were always demanded of demi-gods.

And, he thought to himself to steady his nerves a little, that elusive goddess Fortune, though often fickle, usually favours the brave! In any case he was determined not to turn tail and flee like a whipped dog or a cringing coward, just because an unknown and hitherto untested enemy had suddenly put on an unexpected turn of speed. Yet he also knew that to allow himself to look weak by retreating, before even putting the enemy’s army to the test, could also be to invite disaster by starting to sow the seeds of a suspicion of cowardice among his own men; he must engage the enemy, he thought grimly.

“Thank you for your concern, Sandanis,” Croesus coolly replied, “but I assure you it is quite unnecessary; the gods are on our side in this battle; the oracle at Delphi said my kingdom will last forever; we cannot lose! As soon as we have won here we shall march on Media and Persia.”

Then, turning to address his other officers and the rest of the host in general, he grimly declaimed, in his loudest voice: “Now, gentlemen, you all have your orders; let each man do his own part nobly and you will all be rewarded with positions of honour in my new domain.” Then, turning to the trumpeter at his elbow, he ordered, “Trumpeter, sound the advance!”

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