Clearchus cleared his throat and all in the crowd knew the words that would follow — the formations made it obvious. No move. The Spartan Gold would wait until Leonidas attacked, relying on the knuckle-bones to decide the outcome. But conversation ceased as Clearchus spoke.
'The general Parmenion orders the cavalry forward at the charge, veering towards enemy centre.'
All eyes swung to the judge by Leonidas. The first three moves could not be changed, and much would depend on Leonidas' use of cavalry. It was unusual — though not unheard of — for a cavalry charge to be signalled at the onset.
The general Leonidas orders the javeliners and Sciritai to advance on the right.'
Now the whispers began, for Leonidas had not anticipated a cavalry attack and had issued no orders to his own horsemen.
A helot with a measuring rod moved the yellow wood horsemen forward. The judges conferred and Xenophon addressed the crowd.
'It is agreed unanimously that the speed of the charge has routed the opposing cavalry, forcing them back into the hoplite ranks. Casualties are sixty suffered by Leonidas and nine by Parmenion.'
The voice of Clearchus then rose among the clamour. 'The general Parmenion instructs the Spartans and Sciritai to merge lines and advance at a run, thirty-two deep, at the enemy's right.'
Parmenion stood stock-still, eyes locked to Leonidas who was staring horror-struck at the massed advance. Parmenion could understand how he was feeling; he was facing not one improbable plan of action — but two. No Spartan force would ever consider merging with the Sciritai, and no Greek army would ever attack the enemy's right — its strongest point. To do so meant exposing a vulnerable flank, for the shield was borne on the left arm and therefore the advancing phalanx would be open to javelins, rocks, arrows and stones.
But not here, thought Parmenion. Not today. For Leonidas' centre was wrecked by his own cavalry, and there were no peltasts or archers close enough to wreak havoc on his advancing line with missiles. He looked up, wanting to see, to remember, every change of expression on the face of his enemy; longing to see and memorize the moment when defeat first registered.
'The general Leonidas orders the rear six lines to move out and encircle the enemy.'
Parmenion was exultant but he hid his feelings, making a mask of his features, only the flaring nostrils and the quickening of his breathing betraying his excitement. Leonidas was beaten. A massed charge was bearing on his right — and he had thinned his line to only four ranks.
The helots lifted the wedges and carried them forward. There was no need for the judges to confer; every soldier in the crowd knew what must happen when a phalanx thirty-two deep struck a line of four ranks. The strength and courage of the few could not stop the weight of the charge. Leonidas was not merely beaten — he was crushed. The golden-haired Spartan stared at the soldiers, then stepped back and spoke swiftly to his judge. The man's words stunned Parmenion.
'The general Leonidas is asking the judges to countermand the second order of the general Parmenion on the grounds that it has no credibility. If such an order were given in battle, the Spartans would no doubt refuse to obey it.'
Parmenion reddened and looked to the King. Agisaleus sat back and began a conversation with the young man on his right. Xenophon called the judges to him, away from the crowd, but all could see that the argument which followed was heated.
Parmenion's heart sank as he stared down at the tiny battlefield and the wooden soldiers locked in frozen battle. Could they disqualify him? Of course they could. He gazed up at the rows of spectators. Who are you, Parmenion? he asked himself. You are a poverty-stricken half-breed. What do they care for you? This is a day for Leonidas and you have spoilt it for them.
Xenophon walked back to the sand-pit. The crowd waited for the verdict and even the King sat forward, his eyes on the Athenian.
'The challenge is an interesting one, which has split the judges. It is true that the merging of lines with the Sciritai would not be considered honourable, nor even likely.' He paused and Parmenion saw heads nod in agreement, felt the eyes of Leonidas on him. His opponent allowed himself a smile. Parmenion swallowed hard. 'However,' Xenophon continued, 'it seems to me that the question is not one of honour but of tactics and discipline. The general Parmenion, knowing the strength of his enemy and that his enemy had used this formation in his last five battles, chose an unusual course of action. I am an Athenian, but I speak with the authority of one who admires beyond all men the qualities of the Spartan army. And the question here is of discipline. The challenge stands or falls on one point: would the Spartans refuse to obey such an order? The answer is a simple one. When, in all of their glorious history, have Spartan soldiers ever failed to obey an order?' Xenophon paused once more, his eyes sweeping the ranks of the spectators and resting at last on the King. 'The move stands,' said Xenophon. 'The general Leonidas is defeated -
and, since he placed himself at the second line, is also slain. The Spartan Gold have the day. The general Parmenion is the supreme strategos.'
There was no applause, but Parmenion did not care. He swung to Hermias, who threw aside the dark cloak and rushed forward to hug his friend.
The crowd was stunned. King Agisaleus fixed Xenophon with an angry look, but the Athenian merely shrugged and turned away. Then the whispers began as old soldiers discussed the strategy. Leonidas rose and stumbled back. Gryllus moved forward behind him, offering the Cloak of Shame, but Leonidas waved it away and strode from the courtyard.
An elderly helot moved from the shadows, touching Parmenion's shoulder. 'Sir, there is a woman at the gates. She says you must come quickly.'
'A woman? What woman?' asked Parmenion.
'It is something to do with your mother, sir.'
All sense of triumph and joy fled from Parmenion. He staggered as if struck. . then ran from the courtyard.
The crowd fell silent as the young Spartan sped from the gates. Agisaleus pushed himself to his feet and moved towards Xenophon, his dark eyes angry.
'This was not supposed to happen!' hissed the King.
Xenophon nodded. 'I know, sire,' he replied, keeping his voice low, 'but then none of us expected Leonidas to perform so badly. He showed no strategic skill and treated his enemy with contempt.
But you are the King, sire. You are the foremost judge in Sparta. It is your right — should you desire it — to set aside my judgement.'
Agisaleus turned to look at the wooden soldiers lying forgotten in the sand-pit. 'No,' he said at last, 'you were correct, Xenophon. But I'll be damned if I'll present the Sword to the half-breed.
Here! You give it to him.'
Xenophon took the weapon and bowed. The King shook his head and walked away, the crowd dispersing after him. As the Athenian moved into the shade of the andron porch and sat quietly, his thoughts turning to Parmenion, his son Gryllus approached him.
'That was disgraceful, Father,' said the boy.
'Indeed it was,' agreed the general. 'Leonidas did not wear the Cloak of Shame. It was not seemly.'
'That is not what I meant — and you know it. The Spartan army would never allow mongrels like the Sciritai to merge lines. No one could have expected it. The Game should have been re-started.'
'Go away, boy,' said Xenophon, 'and try not to speak of matters of which you have little understanding.'
Gryllus stood his ground, his face reddening. 'Why do you hate me, Father?' he asked.
The words shook the Athenian. 'I do not hate you, Gryllus. I am sorry that you believe it.'
Xenophon stood and approached the boy with arms spread, ready to embrace him.