The Golden Hope: A Story of the Time of King Alexander the Great

by Robert H. Fuller

Never had Chares seen Alexander so confidently at ease as when he rode along the line in his bright armor, his white plumes nodding as he looked to see that all was in readiness. His eye was clear and his brow was untroubled in the face of those tremendous odds, although he knew that his fate depended upon the issue of that day. He took his place beside Clitus on the extreme right wing of the army, with the squadrons of Glaucias behind him.

There was a stir in the Persian host, and the terrible scythed chariots, drawn by horses that were lashed to madness, bounded forward across the interval that separated the two armies. At the same time the elephants began to move, and the Persian centre advanced to the attack.

Chares had hardly time to note this movement before the Bactrian and Scythian cavalry under Bessus swept down upon the Companions. Alexander ordered Mœnidas and the Greek mercenary cavalry to meet the charge. The Greeks galloped bravely to oppose the onset, but the rush of the Bactrians scattered them like chaff. The Pœonian cavalry under Aristo was then sent forward with better success. The wild troops of Bessus were curbed and forced back for a space, and Chares could see the bull-necked viceroy raging among them in a frantic endeavor to make them stand. Finding all his efforts in vain, he ordered the main body of the Bactrian cavalry, fourteen thousand in all, to charge. They left their place in the left of the Persian line and thundered down upon the Pœonians like an avalanche.

Not until then did Alexander turn his face to the impatient Companions. He raised his hand as a signal to make ready. Each man gathered his bridle reins more firmly, and tightened his grasp on his spear. A page scurried back to Aretes, who had been posted in the rear of the main line as a protection to the flank, telling him to charge with his splendid lancers. Then the Companions rushed forward, with Alexander at their head, and with their plumes fluttering like foam on the crest of a wave.

Squadron by squadron, they tore into the enemy's lines, while Scyth and Bactrian went down before them. Swift and deadly as a falcon, Aretes swooped upon Bessus' flank, throwing it into confusion. But the viceroy refused to yield, and the stubborn righting continued.

Meantime the dreaded scythe-bearing chariots had neared the phalanx, which it was their task to break. The soldiers clashed their spear butts against their shields with a clangor that frightened many of the horses beyond control. The light-footed skirmishers in advance of the line shot their arrows into the sides of the animals, or risked their lives to sever the traces of their harness. Some of the horses wheeled and galloped back into the Persian horde. Others were killed upon the sarissas that pierced their necks. A few of the chariots reached the line, that opened hastily to let them through, and both horses and charioteers were slain at leisure in the rear.

The elephants, from which the Great King had hoped so much, proved as useless as the chariots. Bewildered in the clamor raised by the phalanx, and maddened by the wounds inflicted upon them by the archers, they rushed about the field, trumpeting wildly, and trampling the Persians in their search for escape. Darius saw them, and his brow clouded.

With the first stride of his horse when the Companions charged, Chares felt his heart leap and the glow of joy in battle warm his veins. Misgiving and foreboding fell from him. He struck with mighty blows, spurring his horse forward into the Bactrian ranks until he could go no further. When his squadron fell back to give place to another, he refused to follow it, but remained there, fighting until the fresh troop in its charge surrounded him and bore him forward. Even when the Bactrians began to give way, and Alexander, leaving them to Aretes, directed the trumpeters to draw off the Companions, the Theban would not go. The young king, who happened to be near, spoke to him sharply.

"Obey orders!" he said. "You shall have your fill of fighting."

Chares reluctantly complied. His eyes were bloodshot and his face flushed like that of a drunken man. To ease the throbbing of his temples, he loosed his helmet and threw it upon the ground.