The Wandering King: Book 3 Begun

phalanx

 

Those that have been enjoying The Wandering King series will be happy to hear that I’ve started work on book 3.  I used the year’s hiatus to work on a contemporary novel.  After spending 5 years immersed in the ancient world, I needed to spend some time writing about today’s world.

The subtitle for book 3 hasn’t been selected yet.  If you’d like to weigh in on the subtitle or suggest one of your own, feel free to do so in the comments section.  Here are a couple that I’m mulling over…

  • Glorious Fall the Valiant
  • Black Hulled Ships
  • Perils of War
  • Land of Brave Men
  • The Sworn Band
  • Victory or Death

The lines “glorious fall the valiant” and “land of brave men,” come from the Spartan poet Tyrtaeus.  “Black hulled ships,” comes from Homer.  The “perils of war” comes from Thucydides.  “Sworn band” is a translation of the Spartan smallest military unit, the enomotia.  A variation for the subtitle could be “Sworn Band Leader,” which was an enomotarch, which is comparable to the modern title of lieutenant.

Where Book 3 is Going

In book 1, Summer, Harvest, War, you journeyed with Euryanax south to Libya and north to Corinth and Delphi.  In book 2, With This Shield, you followed him west to Italy and Sicily.

In book 3, you’ll venture east with our hero to Thrace, Scythia and Asia Minor (modern Turkey) where he’ll take part in a 6-year struggle called the Ionian Revolt.  Though not written about in any novels that I’m aware of, the Ionian Revolt is covered in Herodotus.  It was a revolt by the Greek cities in Asia Minor against the High King Darius of Persia, and is seen as the precursor to the more famous Persian War.a82f442a443b716d8ffa57bc15e88771

Before Eury goes east, he has some unfinished business to take care of at home in Sparta.  When we last left him, he was marching away from Athens with the Spartan army after they had just ousted the Athenian tyrant Hippias.  His uncle Leonidas had put him in charge of a handful of young Athenian boys, who we are told are hostages, but King Cleomenes wants to disguise this fact by having Eury train them in the agoge.

Book 3 opens with us learning that Eury has been given the responsibility of training a group of young boys from all over Hellas.  Cleomenes has expanded upon his original idea, and offered to teach the sons of his allies in Boeotia, Arcadia and Macedon the Spartan way of war.  Like many of the innovative things Cleomenes did in history, this is not a popular idea among his fellow, conservative Spartans.

Among Eury’s students are some young, historical personages, such as Alexandros son of King Amnytas (Alexander the Great’s great-great-great grandfather), Alcibiades of the Alcaemonids (grandfather of his famous namesake), and Leontiades, the future Theban commander at the Battle of Thermopylae.  Several others are based on minor characters mentioned by Herodotus in The Histories, some of whom, like Attaginus, end up allied with the Persians during the Persian War.

Eury’s cousin and chief rival and antagonist, Pausanias, is also training a ‘herd’ of boys, the salamanders.  As they have a 8-year head start on Eury’s ‘turtles,’ Pausanias’ salamanders are  a lean, mean pack of wolves, whose main goal in life is to kill Eury’s charges, of which they’ve already done away with 3 at the start of the story.

How Eury manages to help the turtles survive the agoge and one of Sparta’s most brutal rites of passage, the Festival of Artemis Orthia, make up the first two chapters of book 3, which I am working on now.

Diversion to Athens

If you’ll recall from book 2, after the Spartans overthrew the Athenian tyrant Hippias they left one of their puppets, a rich nobleman named Isagoras in charge.  Isagoras promptly exiled ‘the father of democracy’ Cleisthenes from Athens.  If you’ve read Herodotus, you know that Cleisthenes eventually returns and “took the common people into his party” enabling him to oust Isagoras.

Although I admire the Spartans, one of the things that is not so admirable about them is their aversion to democracy.  In defense of the Spartans, philosophers like Aristotle and Plato were not exactly keen on the Athenians version of ‘pure’ democracy either.  Many during the age (particularly wealthy landowners) viewed it as ‘rule by the unwashed, uneducated rabble.’  Cleomenes attempted to interfere in Athenian politics, where he wanted to get rid of Cleisthenes and reinstate Isagoras.

As the Athenian democracy survived, you can probably guess that Cleomenes’ plans backfire on him.  Once the Peloponnesian League and his co-King Demaratus learned what he was up to, they walked out on him.  Cleomenes had cleverly planned to have Sparta, Thebes and Chalcis attack Athens from three sides, but once the Spartans left with Demaratus, the Athenians rallied and beat the Thebans and men of Chalcis in two separate battles.

What role will Eury play in all of this?  You’ll see.

Reunited with Miltiades

Hopefully I’m not giving away too much of the story  by saying Euryanax is forced to leave Sparta.  When Eury does, he returns young Cimon to his father Miltiades, who as we learned at the end of book 2 was returning to the Thracian Chersonese to reclaim his lands there.

Why did I introduce Miltiades in book 2?  Readers familiar with Greek history will recognize him as the key strategos of the Athenian forces at the famous Battle of Marathon.  If there is a book 4 in the series, it’ll cover Marathon, where Miltiades has his historic day in sun.

For purposes of book 3, Herodotus also records that Miltiades was involved in some adventures prior to Marathon.  He captured the islands of Lemnos, Imbros and Tenedos in the Aegean Sea, taking them away from the Persian Empire.  Miltiades also has a part to play in …

The Ionian Revolt

hoplite3The last thing I’ll say about book 3 is that the same way that Eury was reunited with Theokles during the Battle at Phalerum in book 2, his friend will reappear in time for the Ionian Revolt’s famous Battle of Lade.  There will be some surprises regarding Theo and his mistress Stesilaus, so I’ll close here before I give anyway any spoilers.

The important thing to know is that book 3 is begun and I am excited to be working on it.  Don’t want to promise a completion date as that just adds the pressure of a deadline.  Will only say that it took three years to write book 1 and two years to complete book 2.  It’ll take a few years to deliver the story to you, but for me, this is the fun part.  Just like you, I’m curious to see what happens next to our hero, Euryanax.

The Spirit of the Ancient Olympics

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After reading about all of the pollution, doping and dangers of the Zika virus at the Rio Olympics, plus hearing about the endemic corruption rife in the International Olympic Committee (IOC), I can’t help but feel nostalgic about the simplicity of the ancient Greek Olympics.

Origins of the Olympics

While the Greeks attributed the origins of the Olympics to myths about Herakles, Pelops and Zeus, no one really knows how or why the ancient Olympics began.  As the Greeks used athletic competitions in conjunction with many of their festivals, it seems safe to assume that its origins were probably religious.

In Homer’s Iliad, after the death of Patroclus and Hector, both the Greeks and the Trojans included athletic competitions among the funeral celebrations.   In the case of Hector, the two warring sides even agreed to a truce while the games took place.  It seems the games were meant to honor the dead and were no doubt a long-standing tradition even in the time of the Trojan War (c. 1184 B.C.).

The games were held every 4 years outside the Greek city of Elis in a valley called Olympia.  Evidence of the game’s religious importance, is that Olympia was named after the highest mountain in Greece, Mt. Olympus, which was thought to be the home of the gods.

The games were dedicated to the king of the gods, Zeus.  Within the Temple of Zeus at Olympia stood a 43 foot tall statue of Zeus made out of gold and ivory.  The statue was sculpted by Phidias in 445 B.C. and was one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World.  Phidias also sculpted the statue of Athena that was inside another ancient wonder, the Parthenon at Athens.

In the 6th century B.C., the Greeks also instituted pan-Hellenic games at Delphi, Corinth and the Nemea River, but the Olympics continued to preserve its prominence as the pre-eminent celebration.  One of the interesting features of the Pythian Games in Delphi, were that they also included competitions for poetry, music and theater.

Date of the First & Last Olympics

The traditional date of the first Olympics is 776 B.C.   The games were so important to the Greeks they used 776 B.C. as their ‘year 1’ and measured time from that date.  For example, a person might mark their date of birth by saying, “I was born in the second year of the 23rd Olympiad.”

When the Roman Emperor Theodosius imposed Christianity as the state religion of the Roman Empire in 393 A.D., he put an end to the Olympic Games as they were viewed as honoring a pagan religion.

The Olympic Truce

Though we think of Greece as a country, in ancient times it consisted of hundreds of city-states who were constantly at war with one another.

One of the important aspects of the ancient games was that a universal truce existed across the Greek world during the games to allow athletes and spectators to travel safely to Olympia.  This ceasefire extended across Greece and its colonies located in Asia Minor, on the Black Sea, Africa, Italy, Sicily and Spain.

History records only one instance of this truce ever being violated, and even that case was contested.

Some interesting facts about the Olympics:

  • Average attendance was in the range of 20,000 to 40,000.
  • The use of the death penalty was suspended throughout Greece during the games.
  • Only free men who spoke Greek could compete in the games.
  • Women were not allowed to compete or attend.
  • There were no team sports, only individual events.

The Olympic Festival and Events

Athletes had to arrive at Olympia one month before the games for training.  Before the games began, they swore an oath that they would abide by the rules and that they had been in training for at least ten months.  While this is nothing compared to the training undergone by modern athletes, it meant that only the well-to-do could afford to compete.

The original Olympics lasted only one day, and consisted of only one event, the stadion or stade (from which we get the word ‘stadium’),  a sprint the length of the track, roughly 700 feet.

The diaulos, or two-stade race was introduced in 724 B.C.  It consisted of a single lap of the track, approximately 1,300 feet.

The original Olympic Games consisted entirely of track and field events.  A third foot race, the dolichos, was introduced in 720 B.C.  The length of the race was 18-24 laps or about 3 miles.  The runners began and finished in the stadium, but the course wound its way through the Olympic grounds.

As more events were added the Olympics were expanded to five days.  Two of the five days were spent conducting religious rituals.  The first day was devoted to swearing oaths and conducting sacrifices, and the last day to crowning the victors with an olive wreath and holding a great feast at which 100 bulls were sacrificed.

The last running event added to the Olympics (520 B.C.) was the hoplitodromos or hoplite race.  Runners ran either a stade or diaulos in full or partial armor, carrying a shield, helmet and greaves weighing roughly 50 pounds.  In a vase painting depicting the event, runners are shown leaping over fallen shields that runners dropped.

The 26 mile marathon was NOT an ancient Greek Olympic event.  The event was added when the modern Olympics were introduced in Athens in 1896.

Over the years, boxing, wrestling and pankration were added.  Initially soft leather was wrapped around boxers fingers, but over time this was changed to hard leather and sometimes metal was used.  Boxers fought on open ground.  These fights had no rounds or rest periods.  There were no rules against hitting a man when he was down.

A wrestler had to throw his opponent to the ground 3 times to win.  There were no weight classes, so heavier wrestlers had an advantage.61406c74cb

Pankration was a brutal combination of boxing and wrestling with very few rules.  It was not uncommon to break an opponent’s fingers or twist their ankles from their sockets. The bout ended when one pankrationist surrendered or died.  If a contestant died, he was declared the winner, post mortem.

The pentathlon consisted of wrestling the stadion, long jump, javelin thrown and discus throw.

At the conclusion of each event, a herald announced the name of the winner.  A judge placed a palm leaf in his hands while spectators applauded and threw flowers.  A ribbon of red wool was tied around his head and hands as a sign of victory.

Later events such as horse-racing and chariot-racing were added.  As very few people in Greece could afford a horse, it was confined to the wealthy.

Jockeys did not have stirrups on their saddle.  Individual riders did 6 laps (4.5 miles) of the race track.  There were separate races for full-grown horses and foals.

There were 2-horse and 4-horse chariot races, and a 12 lap race (9 mile) between carts drawn by a team of 2 mules.

The first woman ever to win an Olympic event, in 396 B.C. and again 392 B.C., was a Spartan named Cynisca, who won the 4-horse chariot race.  Although Cynisca did not drive the chariot and was probably not even present to watch, she owned the chariot, and the winner of the event was the owner, not the driver.

The official ceremony for all of the victors took place on the last day of the games in the Temple of Zeus.  A herald announced the name of each winner, his father and his city.  Then a judge placed a crown made of an olive branch on the winner’s head.  The olive branch was considered significant, because it was believed the olive trees at Olympia had been planted by the hero Herakles.

Victors were welcomed back to their home cities as heroes.  They could expect banquets in their honor, exemption from paying taxes, statutes erected in their honor and poems written about their exploits.  The real prize for athletes was eternal fame.

Penalties for Rule Breakers

Rules were rarely broken.  When they were, penalties included fines, flogging and exclusion from future games.  Fines were paid to the Temple of Zeus.  If the offender could not afford the fine, the city he represented was excluded from the next games.

Rule breakers had their names inscribed on the bases of statues of Zeus that led to the stadium called ‘Zanes.’  They were a reminder to future visitors about the identity of rule-breakers and a warning to all.

While Ryan Lochte did not cheat or break any rules at the last Olympics, I can’t help but think that his bad behavior goes against the spirit of the ancient Olympics.  Rather being flogged or having his name inscribed on a statue, he’ll lose his advertising endorsements, which I suppose is the modern equivalent of being fined.

While I still enjoy watching the Olympics, I can’t help but think that something has been lost over the ages.  Yes, there is still the athletic competition.  Just not the same spirit.

The Magic of Words

Richard Powell (1908-1999) is one of my favorite authors. PowellHe grew up in Philadelphia, started as a newspaper reporter, then went into advertising, before becoming a popular novelist in the 1950s and 60s.  He also taught creative writing at Syracuse University.

Powell’s most famous novel was The Philadelphian.  In 1959 it was turned into a movie, “The Young Philadelphians,” starring Paul Newman.  My favorite was his last book, Whom the Gods Would Destroy (1970) about the Trojan War epic.  If you like ancient history, it’s a classic, not only for the story, but for Powell’s brilliant writing style.

PhiladelphianOver the years I’ve hunted down and read all 20 of Powell’s novels.  When I was teaching high school English I was delighted to learn that he also wrote several magazine articles for The Writer magazine. Reprinted below is my favorite among his articles.  It provides some nice advice for novices and pros alike…


The Magic of Words
Richard Powell
The Writer (October 1967)

Of course it will never come true, but I keep having this dream in which the President of the United States sends a message to Congress demanding civil rights for words.  In it, he points out how badly words are abused, and calls attention to the fact that our language is a national resource that is being mistreated even more than our rivers and air.  It is only a dream, however, and I do not look for the War on Poverty to be extended to the spoken and written word.

The trouble is that the poverty pockets in this case are too hard to get at, because they are not in city slums or Appalachia, but inside people’s heads.  People are willing to use their brains on many difficult problems—avoiding income taxes, beating the horses, sneaking an extra coffee break—but apparently most of them couldn’t care less about the problem of how to use words clearly and dramatically.  Among these people are scientists, educators, lawyers, government officials, doctors, businessmen and housewives.

Is it possible that there are also writers among them?  Yes, friends, there are writers among them.

Impact

Let us skip the problem of writers who do not know how to use words clearly.  Nobody can help them, and perhaps the published writers among them do not even want to be helped, because a murky style of writing may sometimes win critical acclaim.  Let us, instead, take up the problem of writers who use words clearly, but with no more impact than that of a wet dishrag dropped on the floor.  There are many such writers.  They may do a fine job of plotting and characterization, but they handle words like a cook ladling out alphabet soup: the first collection of letters that comes out of the pot goes into the dish.  Here is an example of alphabet-soup writing:

  • I got up this morning as happy as a lark and, as usual, ate breakfast like a horse.  I sat at my desk and worked like a mule all day and ended dog-tired.

I have given you a lot of information about my day, have I not?  I have also given it clearly.  But how many people would be interested in hearing about my zoological day?  I have used words that bored you stiff and were as dull as dishwater, including the expressions I used in this sentence.  I have used old, worn-out groupings of words.  I have used words in a lazy, thoughtless way, picking up expressions once new and shiny, but now so overworked that they have no power to hook reader attention.  The sad thing about this is that there is a magic in words when they are used with a touch of imagination.  What I should have done, if I wanted anybody to pay attention to a very ordinary collection of facts, was to call on the magic of words.  Perhaps I might have written:

  • When I got up this morning I felt like the bubbles in champagne, and breakfast tasted as if I were just coming off a diet.  I spent the day beating a typewriter ribbon to rags, and ended up as tired as the clichés I was trying not to use.

Now I have dressed my dull facts in bright clothes, and so people might pay attention, I have thrown out my collection of zoological clichés and developed some new expressions.  A cliché is an expression that, when it was new, sketched a vivid picture for people.  The first man who used the expression ‘dog-tired’ no doubt impressed his audience; they would have pictured how a dog looks when he is panting and his tongue hangs out and he flops down.  But, with use, the term dog-tired lost its force.  Nobody who reads or hears it for the tenth or hundredth or thousandth time gets a vivid picture from it.  It has become a cliché.  It is now merely a crutch for lame brains; it is a mental sleeping pill.  It is a way to avoid thinking.  There is no word magic in a cliché.

I don’t want to pretend that, when I developed some new expressions to replace the zoological clichés, I simply made a flourish and pulled them out of a hat.  In the first place, I wouldn’t pull them out of a hat, because that’s another cliché, perhaps invented soon after the first magician pulled the first rabbit out of the first hat.  New expressions do not come easily to me; my brain is lazy, too, and approaches the idea of work like a teenager asked to do the dishes.  But I have learned that if I play the harsh parent with my brain, it will go to work, even though grudgingly.  It took me an hour to work out those new expressions, and if I had spent two hours on them they would undoubtedly be better.  I don’t advise writers to spend an hour on every sentence they write, because they might never finish a story or article.  But, when you need to grab attention, you must spend time and thought on the job.

It is not difficult for a person of normal intelligence to write in a colorful and dramatic way.  One summer, several years ago, I taught a writing course at Syracuse University.  Included in the homework I assigned were some problems in colorful writing.  I explained to my students that one method of colorful writing is to describe Item A in terms of Item B: for example, describe a mountain as if it were a living creature.  (It could be an old lion crouched in the distance, or a vulture hovering over the valley.)  None of my students were professional writers, and none had previously known any tricks of colorful writing.  But, when given a method of doing it, they produced such examples as these:

  1. (Describe a young girl, at her first dance, in terms of another type of living thing.)  “Jane sat in the small gilt chair beside the dance floor, thin, angular, unmoving, eyes carefully blank, legs straight out before her like knobby stems.  She seemed as much a fixture as the potted palms.”
  2. (Describe a society matron in terms of another type of living things.)  Mrs. Cheyney was, he thought, like a faded rose, even to her hands with their thorns of fingernails.
  3. (And the same.)  “Mrs. Culpepper looked for her name in the society column, easer as a St. Bernard sniffing at a hydrant.”

 This is good writing.  It is professional.  Anybody who can do this on demand could have a successful career in some form of writing.  The trick of describing one thing in terms of another is much used by good writers.  Carl Sandburg wrote a complete poem by using this trick merely one time.  The poem contains six lines and twenty-one words, and has been reprinted in many anthologies of American poetry.  It is titled “The Fog,” and Sandburg describes the fog as if it were a cat.

Some years ago, in writing a story, I wanted to describe gulls flying, and I wrote of them in terms of ice skaters:  “Gulls figure-skating against the sky.”  This happens to stick in my memory because Reader’s Digest used my words on its “Picturesque Speech” page and paid me ten dollars, the first of many delightful checks from the magazine and Reader’s Digest Condensed Book Club.  While writing this article I wanted to see if I had exhausted the ways of describing gulls in terms of something else, and I came up with these descriptions:

  • The gulls went tobogganing down the snowy clouds.
  • The gulls did a waltz in the ballroom of the sky.
  • High up, a gull wheeled and curved, writing a message against the blue paper of the air.

This experiment seems to hint that there may be as many ways of describing gulls in flight as there are gulls.

Mood and atmosphere

When does a writer use such colorful expressions?  Always?  No.  That might be like a steady diet of fruitcake.  Colorful writing is used to create a needed effect – perhaps of mood or atmosphere or character – and when the effect has been achieved, it is a waste of time to do it over and over.  Nor should colorful writing be used merely to show off.  It must contribute to achieving the writer’s purpose in his piece of fiction or article or poem or speech or whatever.  I would not use colorful words to describe the ringing of a telephone, unless I needed to create a certain mood; if the mood had already been crated, I would simply say that the telephone rang, and then get on to more vital things.  But if the call was going to be important and I had to get the reader in the right mood for it, I might write:

  • I reached for the ringing telephone as if getting my first lesson in snake charming.
  • The telephone bell echoed in my head like a dentist’s drill.
  • The telephone bell made a little apologetic murmur.
  • The telephone jingled pleasantly, like an old hurdy-gurdy.

Each of these sentences contributes to the establishment of a different mood or atmosphere.  They could not be used interchangeably.

The same method, of course, can be used in describing people.  In my latest novel, Don Quixote, U.S.A., I wanted to describe my hero’s physical appearance, and at the same time create a mood and tell something of his character.  This called for colorful writing and for the expenditure of several hours of mental sweat to produce two sentences. As I say, these things do not come easily to me; getting them out of my head is often like trying to shake the last dime out of a piggy bank.  After four hours, I had these two sentences:

  • Mine is not the grim, strong face of the typical Goodpasture.  Such a face is spare and angular, as if welded from steel plowshares, whereas my features look as if they had been hastily whittled out of balsa wood.

In those two sentences, I provided a good deal of information about my hero’s physical appearance, the family from which he came, and his character.  I doubt that it would have been interesting to readers if I had merely written:  “All of my family have strong, grim faces, but mine is rather weak and nondescript.”

Another way to write colorful language is to exaggerate to achieve an effect.  It is not very striking merely to write that somebody is thin.  If you want to create a dramatic effect, use exaggeration.  Draw a word picture of how that person is.  For example:

  • She was so thin she could have taken a bath in a fountain pen.
  • He was so thin he could have lurked behind a needle.
  • He as so thin he could have crawled through a pencil sharpener… and with a pencil in his pocket, too.

Effective parts of speech

In trying to make magic with words, it is wise to beware of the adjective.  Nouns are good words to use in sentences.  They are like bones, providing the needed skeleton.  Verbs are good words.  They are the muscles, providing the action.  But adjectives are in most cases merely the clothing or ornaments of a sentence, and it is easy to overdress a sentence.  Let me quote the beginning of a famous speech, and count the adjectives in it:

Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears.
I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him.
The evil that men do lives after them,
The good is oft interred with their bones.
So let it be with Caesar.

How many adjectives in those opening lines of Mark Anthony’s speech?  Shakespeare didn’t use any.

So in trying to put magic into your words, don’t think that piling up adjectives will do the job.  One well-chosen adjective may be perfect, like a diamond ring on the hand of a pretty woman.  Too many adjectives may be like too many diamond rings; not only does the display seem crude, but also it may hide the fact that the woman has lovely fingers.

Words should be a source of never-ending mystery and delight to any writer.  All of us should be forever curious about how words were invented and evolved and what they used to mean and what they mean now.  Another term for a cliché is a hackneyed expression.  Think a moment about the word “hackneyed.”  Do you know how it originated?  Well, back in the days of horses and carriages, a horse that was kept for hire was called a hackney.  Such animals were overworked, and were often tired and slow and thin.  Somebody started applying the term to phrases that were also tired and slow and thin: hackneyed phrases.  When first used, the term was colorful and called up a picture in the reader’s mind.  But how good a picture does it evoke now?

Are you the sort of writer who can look up a word in the dictionary without ever being lured into looking up others?  Can you run across such words as “boycott” without digging out the sad tale of Captain Charles Cunningham Boycott?  Can you hear the term “halcyon days” without discovering the pleasant old Greek myth from which it come?  If you are not fascinated by words, I feel sorry for you, because you must find the use of them a dull and tiring job.  To make magic with words, a writer must know what they mean.  And, if he hopes to use words in a new and colorful way, he must be able to recognize the old drag ways in which they have been used.

Words are like Cinderella:  sad little drudges, wearing rags and dirtied by soot.  It is in the power of writers to play Fairy Godmother, and make those drudges into shining creatures.  Words can sing and dance, growl and roar, tiptoe and march.  They will do all these things for any writer who is willing to wave the magic wand of his imagination over them.

A Storm of Spears

Storm SpearsWriting a historical novel takes an enormous amount of research.

In the first book in The Wandering King series, Summer, Harvest, War, I included a suggested reading list in the back.  I am indebted to many of the authors listed, particularly the ancient writers Herodotus, Pausanias and Homer for my source material.

The second novel in the series, With This Shield, owes a debt of gratitude to an Aussie named Dr. Christopher Matthew and his book A Storm of Spears: Understanding the Greek Hoplite at War.  Matthew’s work provided the basis for how my Spartan characters fought in the phalanx.

In chapter two of With This Shield, “The Art of War,” when Portheus and Theokles are teaching the men of Croton how to fight with shield and spear, I relied heavily on Matthew’s research.

A New Spin on an Old Fighting Style

Classical scholars have been battling for generations over how the ancient Greek hoplites engaged in combat. Matthew does an incredible job of analyzing hoplites’ weaponry, armor, stance, spacing and attack methods to provide fresh insights on the debate and provide some startling new conclusions.

For instance, he questions whether or not the phalanx attacked at a run or a walk.  At the Battle of Marathon, Herodotus claims the Athenians ran a mile before hitting the Persian line.  Was this even possible?  Matthew provides convincing evidence that the phalanx was more effective when it attacked at a much slower pace as it enabled them to move in a close order.  Attacking in a tight mass, shoulder to shoulder, allowed them to bring more spears to bear on the enemy.

As soon as a wall of hoplites begin running, they naturally spread out.  So it becomes impossible for a phalanx to charge at a run in close formation.  All of which makes a great deal of sense.

He also provides new insights as to why the phalanx could be arrayed anywhere from four to twelve ranks deep.  The accepted view was that the deeper the formation, the heavier the weight of the charge.  The hoplites in the rear ranks, pushed the men in the front ranks forward, resulting in a mighty crash of shield against shield and a rugby-like scrum.

Matthew refutes this belief.  He states that since the phalanx did not attack at a run there was no deafening collision, no scrum.  So there was no need for the men in the rear ranks to push against the men in front of them.  Instead, the depth of the phalanx merely meant that the men who fell in the front ranks were replaced by the men behind them.  The deeper the phalanx, the more replacements you had during the battle.

Instead of the battle involving a lot of pushing and shoving, Matthew claims the hoplites maintained their orderly rows, kept an arm’s length away from the opposing shieldwall, and calmly attacked one another with their spears.  All of which is an entirely new viewpoint.

Are Matthew’s Findings the Gospel on Hoplite Warfare?

Matthew examines the ancient sources, along with what recent scholarship has written, then tests these theories by using Greek hoplite re-enactors to find out how things actually worked.  When providing his conclusions, he is not afraid to contradict well-respected historians like Victor Davis Hanson and others.

What Matthew taught me, was how hoplites stood together, how they held their shields, how they moved forward and the various methods in which they could have wielded their spears.  All of which found its way into the pages of With This Shield.

As much as I admire Matthew’s new approach to hoplite warfare, I find it hard to buy into all of his conclusions.

He provides his findings from a scientific, almost sterile laboratory analysis. Real soldiers hardly perform under such conditions. Sure, it might make sense for the phalanx to walk toward the enemy, but that takes out the human element.  Soldiers are not laboratory mice.  If you’re being pelted by arrows and sling stones, you may very well be forced to run to avoid catching an arrow in the throat.

The primary assertion that Matthew makes, that I question, is how hoplites wielded their spear.  Greek art shows them using three primary attacks:  the overhead thrust, underarm thrust and underhand attack.  According to the author, by studying these various attack methods using re-enactors, he claims it would have been impossible for the ancient infantryman to hold his spear aloft over his head for long periods of time.  They simply would tire faster.  Matthew shows that the underarm thrust actually has a longer effective kill range.

Chigi_vaseOverhead Spears really Javelins?

In making his argument that the Greeks did not use the overhead thrust with their spears, he claims that all of the ancient pottery showing ancient warriors holding their spears aloft – are not spears at all – but javelins.  They are not thrusting spears, aiming at their opponent’s throat, instead they are throwing javelins.  I find this hard to swallow.

The famous Chigi Vase (shown here), depicts hoplites holding their spears aloft, using them to strike downward at the enemy.  Are they wielding spears or throwing javelins?  According the Matthew they’re throwing javelins.  Is he right?  You be the judge.

It might make more sense for hoplites to attack using the underarm thrust.  They might have a longer kill range, but do humans ever behave in an entirely logical fashion?

The Spartans trained constantly.  What if they didn’t tire so easily?  What if using the overhead thrust to go for the enemy’s throat was a more effective way of killing your opponent?  What if the overhead thrust – because it was so difficult – brought kudos upon the soldier?  What if using the underarm thrust was for amateurs and the overhead thrust was for professionals like the Spartans?  This is the approach I choose to use in With This Shield.

Conclusions

The ancient sources do not comment on these issues, so we are left to try to figure out on our own how hoplites really fought.  I admire Matthew’s ability to take a step back from the accepted assumptions, and look at hoplites from a fresh new perspective that is based on experiments with live re-enactors.

However, they are re-enactors, not real soldiers engaged in battlefield conditions. When you really come down to it, we’ll never fully understand the ancient mind or how the ancient soldier fought. Though I imagine Matthew’s book will provide plenty of discussion for classical scholars for years to come.

With This Shield: Historical Characters

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Of the 60 men and women in With This Shield’s character listing, more than 40 are based on real people from ancient Greek history.  Below you will find some additional information on 15 of these historical figures.  Am also including the pronunciation of their name, as readers have told me they find this helpful.

SPOILER ALERT:  Though the data below will not give away the plot of With This Shield, in some cases it will tell you what became of the character in history.  I’ve been careful to leave out events covered in the next book in the series, so it does not give away too much information.

Aeschylus (S-kuh-lus)

While only a teenager in With This Shield, Aeschylus will grow up to be one of the most famous dramatic playwrights in Greek literature.  Twenty years later, he and his two brothers, Cynegeirus and Ameinias, would take part in the Battle of Marathon (490 B.C.).

Of Aeschylus’ 90 plays, only 7 survive.  One of his earliest works, The Persians, is based on his experiences in the naval Battle of Salamis (479 B.C.).  It is unique among the Greek tragic plays in that it describes a recent historical event.

Aristides (ah-ris-TĪDE-ēz)

In The Histories, Herodotus describes Aristides as the “best and most honorable man in Athens.”  In later years he was called “Aristides the Just.”

His life is recorded by the Greek author Plutarch in his book The Lives of Noble Greeks and Romans.  Plutarch states that Aristides and Themistocles were friends when they were young, but they had a falling out because “…both were in love with Stesilaus…”

My favorite story about Aristides occurred when he was older. The Athenians were voting on who to ostracize (the ‘winner’ being exiled for 10 years).  An illiterate voter who did not recognize Aristides approached him and asked him to write the name of Aristides on the ballot.  When the statesman asked the man if Aristides had ever wronged him, the man said, “No, I do not even know him, but it irritates me to hear everyone call him ‘the Just’.”  Honest to the end, Aristides wrote his own name on the ballot and was exiled.

Callicrates (kal-ē-KRAT-ēz)

Callicrates is only mentioned once by Herodotus, who says he was the most handsome man in the Greek army.  Thirty years after the events described in With This Shield, he would die at the Battle of Plataea (479 B.C.) while the Greeks were waiting for the Persians to charge and an arrow struck him in the eye.

Herodotus wrote:  “Having been carried to the rear, as he lay dying, Callicrates said he was  happy to die for Hellas, but it grieved him that he did not get a chance to prove his bravery, that he did no acts of valor worthy of the spirit he had in him to perform great deeds.”

Callimachus (kal-ah-MOCK-us)

Twenty years after the events described in With This Shield, Herodotus lists Callimachus as the polemarch (commanding officer) at the Battle of Marathon.  Callimachus led the Athenian right wing and was killed after the Persians were routed and the Greeks were chasing them to their ships.

In Athens, it was customary for the father of the bravest man killed in the battle to give the public funeral oration over the dead.  Callimachus’ father and the father of Aeschylus (whose brother Cynegeirus was also slain) argued over whose son was the bravest.  Callimachus’ father won.

Years later the Athenians erected a statue on the acropolis next to the Parthenon in his honor, called “The Nike of Callimachus” (the Victory of Callimachus).

Cimon (SĪ-mon)

Miltiades’ youngest son would go on to become one of the most famous statesmen and generals in Athenian history.  My depiction of Cimon is based on what we know from Herodotus and Plutarch, who claim he was a great supporter of the Spartans.  In later life he wore his hair long in the Spartan style, and named his first son, Lacedaemonius, after the Spartan homeland, Lacedaemonia.

After the Greco-Persian Wars, when the Greeks formed the Delian League to prevent future Persian incursions (the League would become the precursor to the Athenian Empire), Cimon was named as its principal commander.  Cimon led most of the League’s military operations from 475-463 BC.  During that period, he and Aristides drove the Spartans under Pausanias out of Byzantium (later called Constantinople and today called Istanbul).

His most famous military victory came at the Battle of Eurymedon River (466 B.C.), when he captured or destroyed over 200 Persian warships.

Cleisthenes (KLĪS-thenes)

Cleisthenes was the grandson of the tyrant of the Greek city of Sicyon (also named Cleisthenes).  Among his more famous descendants in the Alcmaeonid clan were the Athenian statesman Pericles (builder of the Parthenon) and the orator, statesman and general Alcibiades.

Cleisthenes is remembered in history as the ‘father of democracy.’  While some people consider his reformation of the Athenian constitution giving equal voting rights to all citizens a benevolent act, more than likely he did it to break the hold of the wealthy plains tribes, the Pedieis, over Athens, giving each of the tribes a level playing field.

Cleisthenes called his reforms “isonomia” (equality under the law).  It wasn’t until later they would become known as “demokratia” (rule by the people).

Cleomenes (KLE-ah-men-ēz)

Even though Cleomenes reigned for 30 years, during which time he was the key player in Spartan politics, and he accomplished numerous, slick diplomatic maneuvers, Herodotus does not paint a flattering picture of him.  He accuses him of being unscrupulous, a drunk and insane.  Historians tend to believe that whoever Herodotus spoke to in Sparta to gather information about Cleomenes, was probably among his worst enemies.

Cylon (SĪGH-on)

What we know about Cylon comes from the Syrian neoplatonist philosopher Iamblichus, who wrote in his book, The Life of Pythagoras:

“Cylon was a leading citizen of Croton with all of the advantages of noble birth, fame and riches; but otherwise he was a difficult, violent and tyrannical man who eagerly desired to participate in the Pythagorean way of life.  He approached Pythagoras, but was rejected because of his character.  Unaccustomed to rejection, Cylon vowed to seek revenge and destroy Pythagoras and his followers.”

The story in With This Shield about the alliance between Cylon and Ninon, who used phony, forged documents, to discredit Pythagoras and inspire the populace to burn down Milo’s house are found in Iamblichus.  Whether there is any truth to the story, or if it was part of an oral tradition, is hard to say as Iamblichus wrote 700 years after Pythagoras’ death.

Elpinice (L-pin- ēz)

The daughter of Miltiades, Elpinice, is known from Plutarch’s Life of Pericles, where she appears twice.  On both occasions she confronts and rebukes Pericles regarding his political actions.

After the events described in With This Shield, she became the lover of the painter Polygnotus who used her likeness in a painting of Trojan women on a stoa in the Athenian agora.  Later, the richest man in Athens, Callias, fell in love with her.  At the time, her brother Cimon owed the Athenian state a large sum of money and he married her to Callias to pay off the family’s debts.

Gorgo (GORE-gō)

Euryanax’s cousin Gorgo is among the few women mentioned by Herodotus in The Histories.  She is notable for being the daughter of a Spartan king, the wife of a Spartan king and the mother of a Spartan king.

Though little is known about her childhood, like other Spartan girls from a noble family, she would have exercised daily, been well educated, could read and write, and do mathematics.  She also would have learned how to drive a chariot and taken part in Sparta’s many festivals, which included dancing and singing in a chorus.

Gorgo is presented by Herodotus and Plutarch as an extremely wise, well-respected woman, who offered sage advice on several occasions.  Her most famous remark came when an Athenian woman asked her, “Why are you Spartan woman the only ones who can rule over men?”  To which Gorgo replied:  “Because we are the only women to give birth to real men.”

Miltiades (mil-TĪE-ah-dēz)

Miltiades is among the more famous Athenians appearing in With This Shield.  Will resist talking about his most well-known exploits, which will be detailed in the third book in the series.

Miltiades’ family, the Philaids, claimed descent from the Trojan War hero Ajax the Great.  Miltiades’ father won the Olympic Games three times for chariot racing, making him so popular it inspired the jealousy of Athens’ tyrant Hippias, who had him murdered.

Miltiades’ uncle, known as Miltiades the Elder, established an Athenian colony in the Thracian Chersonese (today known as the Gallipoli peninsula) where he set himself up as a tyrant.  When Miltiades the Elder died the tyranny passed to Miltiades’ brother Stesagoras, and after his death, to Miltiades.  Miltiades cemented good relations with the Thracian tribes in the area by marrying Hegesiplye, the daughter of the Thracian King Olorus.

The Greek historian Thucydides, author of The History of the Peloponnesian War, was a Philaid.  His father was named Olorus.  Whether it was the same Olorus related by marriage to Miltiades, is unknown.

Othryades (oh-THRAY-dēz)

As noted in the first two books of The Wandering King, Othryades was famous in Sparta as the lone survivor of the Battle of Champions (540 B.C.) between 300 Spartans and 300 Argives.

According to Herodotus, after the battle Othryades was so upset that his companions had all been killed, he committed suicide.  My apologies to Herodotus for letting Othryades live.

The image at the top of this post is a photograph of a sculpture done in 1779 by the French artist Sergel, titled “Othryades the Spartan Dying.”  It is on display in the Louvre Museum in Paris.

Stesilaus (STES-ah-lāy-us)

The “beautiful and brilliant” Stesilaus from the island of Keos is mentioned in Plutarch’s Lives as the cause of the lifelong enmity between the two Athenian statesmen Aristides and Themistocles.

Like Othryades, I’ve taken some creative license with Stesilaus by turning “him” into a “her.”  It’s not that I’m anti-gay.  Not in the slightest.  I just did not think the story would read as well if two of my characters were fighting over a beautiful young boy.  That said, it’s important to realize the role homosexuality played in ancient Greece.

Says Plutarch of Aristides and Themistocles, “They were both in love with Stesilaus of Keos, the most beautiful and brilliant of youths; whom they both cherished so passionately, that not even after the boy’s beauty had faded did they lay aside their rivalry.”

Themistocles (tha-MIS-tōe-clēz)

While I don’t know how many readers are familiar with Themistocles, he is among the most famous Athenian statesmen and generals of all time.  I don’t want to reveal too much about him, as his story will continue in the next book in the series.

My depiction of Themistocles in With This Shield is taken from a tidbit of information I picked up while reading Plutarch’s Life of Themistocles.  Plutarch describes the young Themistocles by saying, “The wildest colts make the best horses.”

He also says that Themistocles was thrown out of his family by his father Neocles for drinking and carousing.  Though this information about Themistocles is debated, it helped form my characterization of him as brilliant, but somewhat wild and unscrupulous.

Plutarch also says that Themistocles was among the first people in history to become a lawyer to launch a political career.

Xanthippus (zan-TIP-ē-us)

Xanthippus was a wealthy aristocrat in Athens, famous in history as the father of the statesmen Pericles, who built the Parthenon and led Athens into its golden age.

Xanthippus married a niece of Cleisthenes named Agariste (Pericles’ mother).  Although not an Alcmaeonid, he became closely linked with their family.

Like Aristides, Themistocles, Miltiades, Callimachus and Aeschylus he would fight in the Battle of Marathon.  His greatest military victory would come in the last engagement of the Greco-Persian Wars as the commander of the Athenian naval forces at the decisive Battle of Mycale (479 B.C.).

Character request?

Want to know more about a character in The Wandering King series?  Let me know, and I’ll do my best to comply.

Get your FREE copy of “With This Shield”

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As promised, I want to inform readers that The Wandering King (Book 2:  With This Shield), will be available for free from July 21 through July 25.  This applies only to the ebook available through Amazon.

While I made The Wandering King (Book 1: Summer, Harvest, War), available pretty much everywhere, one of the things I’ve learned over the past two years is that Amazon is king when it comes to book distribution.  Therefore, I’ve decided to offer book 2 through Amazon only. This allows me to take part in their Kindle Select program which makes the book available to readers enrolled in Amazon Unlimited.

While these are not exact figures, here is a rough estimate of the ebook sales book 1 has received from the following booksellers:

Amazon:  2,000+
Barnes & Noble:   20
Apple iBookstore:  10
Kobo Books: 5
Smashwords:  2
Scribd, and all others:  1

These are all ebook sales.  One of the big surprises in writing The Wandering King is that hard copies of books are slowly going the way of the CD, videocassette and the poodle skirt.  In comparison, roughly 50 paperbacks have been purchased through Amazon, 3 through Barnes & Noble and 10 at my local booksellers.

Also impacting my decision is that book 1 received 50+ reviews on Amazon, 1 review on Barnes & Noble, and no reviews on any of the other online sites.  Although I would like to place book 2 in as many outlets as possible, it just doesn’t seem worth the time and effort.

My apologies to all those who own a Nook.  If there is a bright side, CreateSpace’s Expanded Distribution has placed the paperback version of book 2 for sale at Barnes & Noble.  I am unsure whether or not they make it available on any of the other bookseller sites.

If you pickup a free copy of book 2 and enjoy what you read, would love to know about it.  Even better, post a review on Amazon.  Your comments have the power to contribute greatly to the success of the book.

Just to mention it, a paperback version is available for $15.95.  It pains me to have to offer the paperback of book 2 for $1 more than book 1, but unfortunately the additional 60 pages of text added to the price.

Most paperbacks today fall in the 13.95 to 17.95 range.  A 375-page novel costs an average of $16.95.  Book 2 is 444 pages long, so although $15.95 is high compared to the $3.99 cost of the ebook, hopefully readers still find the cost reasonable compared to other books.

It’s here! Book 2 of The Wandering King published.

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Apologies Department

I owe readers of the the first book in The Wandering King series a sincere apology.  It was a huge mistake on my part to think I would have the second book done by the end of 2014.

As you may well imagine, a book is, quite simply, finished when it is finished, nor will that conform to a set date.  Rather than rushing out an inferior story, I felt it was more important to get the job done right.

Book two, subtitled, With This Shield, is a longer than book one, Summer, Harvest, War, by two chapters.  Which I did not anticipated when I started writing back in the summer of 2013.

Book two is a more complex book.  Not that you need an engineering degree to read it, it’s just that the story line and characters are more multifaceted.  Whereas, book one was at its core, an adventure story, book two continues in the same vein, but also gets into areas of Greek philosophy, politics and religion, that I hope readers enjoy.

Too, I have also been remiss in keeping up with this blog.  When given the option of working on the book or creating a blog post, the choice was easy.  I devoted all of my free time and put all of my efforts into finishing the book.

So I hope my readers will forgive me.  The good news is:  the book is done.  It was placed on Amazon this afternoon.  By Monday, it should have been approved for sale by Amazon.  If book two is received half as well as book one, I will be immensely satisfied.

Appreciation Section

Several thank yous are in order.  A shout out to my friend and mentor, Dr. James Morris, for assisting me with the proofreading.   Though I probably gave him an ulcer by spelling many names using the Greek form when he preferred the Latin, such as Heracles for Hercules, and Asclepius for Aesculapius, I appreciate his ability to back off when needed.

Sincere thanks to Jean Cauller, at Green Eye for Design, for helping me with the book cover.

In addition to producing the cover for With This Shield, I also asked Jean to redo the cover for Summer, Harvest, War.  The primary change was to enlarge the book title, so that it’s easier to read as a thumbnail on Amazon’s website.  Jean did a great job, and will be assisting me with the paperback covers as well.

Anticipation Sector

While the book might be up for sale June 29, you might want to hold off for a few days.  My intention is to offer the book for free for 5 days.  When I do, I’ll tip people off here in my blog.

It’s my small way of attempting to repay my loyal readers and thank them for being patient with me.  Can’t wait to see how the story is received.