With a masterstroke of deceit, Eumenes had eclipsed the public relations coup Peucestas achieved with his grand banquet. He pressed his advantage by charging Sibyrtius, one of Peucestas’ close allies, with secretly aiding Antigonus. Whether or not there was substance to this charge, it was clearly a shot across Peucestas’ bow. As for the other coalition satraps, who, as he knew from experience, would hate him more the higher he climbed, Eumenes devised a new measure to guard against betrayal. He asked each of them to lend him a large sum of money, amassing more than four hundred talents in all. As his creditors could well guess, this cash would be paid back only so long as they remained in his good graces, and he remained alive.

No sooner had Eumenes shored up his command than deserters from Antigonus arrived in his camp. Antigonus had left Media, they reported, and was headed south. Eumenes decided to go north to meet his foe; to wait longer would risk a splintering of the coalition or discovery that his letter was a fake. He mobilized his troops and led them into Paraetacene, today part of western Iran. The time for battle was at hand.

11.

THE BATTLE OF PARAETACENE (AUTUMN 317 B.C.)

Antigonus approached Paraetacene with almost forty thousand men, Eumenes with slightly more. It was the biggest aggregation of armed force since the battle of Gaugamela, and the biggest showdown ever between two European commanders. It was also the first time two Europeans had both brought war elephants against each other. Eumenes had 120, thanks to Eudamus, while Antigonus still had 65 of the 70 he had received at Triparadeisus, the well-traveled veterans of Alexander’s original herd.

Eumenes approached his foe with high hopes, riding the wave of support generated by his forged letter, but now, when he most needed to inspire confidence, he had fallen ill. He delayed the march for some days while he tried to rally strength, then finally handed command over to Peucestas and Antigenes so that the army could move forward. For a while he had to be carried, barely conscious, inside a covered litter in the rear of the column, while his men fretted over his condition. Antigonus, for his part, got word of Eumenes’ ailment from some scouts he had captured and made haste to seize his opportunity.

The two armies took up opposing positions in miles-long lines, only a quarter of a mile apart. They had anticipated this meeting for two years, but now that it was at hand, both sides were strangely unwilling to commence battle. Eumenes was still recovering from his illness; Antigonus, perhaps, was hoping for a fracturing of the coalition, or a defection of the Silver Shields from Eumenes’ side. More than eighty thousand men stood at arms for four days on the rugged plain, while the food supply of the region was picked clean by their foragers.

On the fifth day Antigonus sent envoys to the coalition satraps and the Shields, urging them yet again to abandon Eumenes and promising amnesty and rewards. The satraps could keep their satrapies, he said, while the Shields could choose grants of land in Asia, repatriation to Macedonia with cash bonuses, or high rank in Antigonus’ army. It was his third attempt to bribe or threaten Eumenes’ men, but it had no more success than the others. The Silver Shields repulsed the envoys and threatened to kill them. What Peucestas and his fellow satraps thought of the offer is less clear, but they stood their ground for the moment.

Eumenes, now recovering his strength, came before his troops and praised their fidelity. Antigonus, he told them, was just like the man in the fable whose daughter is wooed by a lion. The man tells the lion he fears for his daughter’s safety, so the lion pulls out its own claws and teeth to gain approval. The man then seizes his chance and clubs to death the helpless beast. “Antigonus is doing just the same thing,” Eumenes told them. “He will abide by his terms only until he gets control of your forces, and then he will punish your leaders.” “That’s right!” the troops cried.

Deserters informed Eumenes that One-eye was planning to break camp and march away in the night. They did not know his destination, but Eumenes guessed he would head for Gabene, a nearby region with plentiful food, to refresh his troops and fight from better ground. Eumenes determined he would occupy the place first and sent “deserters” of his own to stall Antigonus by telling him of an impending night attack. Antigonus believed the tale and had his troops stand under arms through the night, until his scouts reported that Eumenes had broken camp and was marching toward Gabene. Antigonus hastened after him with a flying force of cavalry, trying to close a six-hour head start.

Antigonus’ advance force caught up to Eumenes’ army around dawn. Riding up to the edge of a high ridge, they glimpsed Eumenes’ column in the plain below, and Eumenes’ soldiers likewise spotted them. Luckily for Antigonus, the men looking up from below could see only the front of the ridge and could not tell whether Antigonus’ cavalry was accompanied by the entire army. Eumenes could not take that chance; he called a halt to array for battle. This gave Antigonus time to bring up his slower-moving contingents and assemble his forces. Several hours later, after his infantry had arrived, Antigonus led his army down the ridge to join combat.

Antigonus rode in the place of honor on the extreme right of his line, with his son, Demetrius, now old enough for his first battle, beside him. On the left, at the head of a unit of light horse, rode Peithon, hoping to at last win mastery of the East. Plans called for Antigonus to mount the first charge, as right-wing cavalry had always done under Alexander. But for some reason Antigonus stopped his advance before reaching Eudamus and the coalition satraps, whose forces were opposite his. Instead, Peithon, on the left, was first to engage the enemy, dashing forward with his light horse and firing arrows and spears at the elephants surrounding Eumenes.

Eumenes, on the right wing of his own line, watched this movement with concern. His elephants might be goaded into fury if hit too often by barbs. When he sensed Peithon was getting too close, he called for his own light horse, then stationed on his left wing, to ride across the lines and attack Peithon. Peithon’s horsemen, who by now had gotten far from the protection of their allies, were driven back to the hills from which they had descended, pursued by the light cavalry of Eumenes.

Meanwhile, the center of Antigonus’ line, with its massive infantry phalanx, made contact with the infantry of Eumenes. Antigonus’ forces were attacking from higher ground and had a huge numerical edge, but as had been proved many times in the Macedonian wars, nerve, not numbers, decided infantry clashes. The Silver Shields in Eumenes’ line had fought together for decades. The young recruits they faced, for the most part, had never before been in a pitched battle. As swords and sarissasclashed, the Shields bored into their opponents and began inflicting massive casualties. Antigonus’ phalanx broke and fled toward the hills, pursued by the Shields. The tide was turned, and One-eye’s army was now in trouble.

The safe move for Antigonus, and what his advisers counseled, was retreat of all forces to the high ground, where they would be safe from further attacks. But Antigonus, watching coolly from his right wing as his left and center collapsed, spotted a gap in his opponent’s line. The light cavalry that Eumenes had shifted to meet Peithon had left a hole, and that hole had widened as Eumenes’ phalanx advanced. Antigonus charged into it with his cavalry, his son, Demetrius, close behind. They struck Eudamus’ forces sharply in the flank. The sudden blow stunned Eumenes’ army, and momentum shifted. Eumenes called back his victorious phalanx, ordering it to break off pursuit and aid Eudamus. Antigonus sent swift riders to stop his fleeing troops and get them formed up again for battle.