(no subject)
Fic: The Battle of Sardinia Sea
Rating: PG 13
Characters: Etruria, Hellass, Carthage
Warnings: Violence
Summary: The Greek colony of Alalia has ruffled feathers and caused an alliance to be struck.
541 BCE - Tarchnal, Etruria
Etruria rarely allows her home in Tarchnal to be used for any purpose other than living, but for this debate, she has made the exception. The leaders from her twelve cities needed room far away from the delegates of Carthage to discuss their proposal.
It is one that she herself is unsure of. Etruria has been fond of Phoenicia since she was young and his cousin, Carthage, has proven to be a strong trade partner. All the same, it seems unthinkable to ally herself against Hellas. Hellas, who has given her so much culture and so many ideas. Hellas who has been there since the early days of her civilization.
But then there is the reality of the matter. As the representative from Caere says, Hellas has been expanding too much. Colonizing - truly colonizing - in Etruscan territory and attacking their trading ships. Etruria has gnored it for too long, and that their monetary losses are unacceptable. Such inaction might encourage Hellas to step foot on the mainland of Etruria, giving the entire nation an unwanted war.
He’s simply repeating Carthage’s arguments, of course, but they sound better in the words of her people.
After another hour’s debate, Etruria steps out of her home with a decision. Carthage himself stands opposite the door - at a respectful distance, least he eavesdrop - and looks to her.
“Well?”
“You’ve our friendship and our support, Carthage,” Etruria says. “And our military.”
Carthage smiles.
---
540 BCE The Greek Colony of Alalia
Hellas doesn’t need one of her soldiers to come find her and inform her that there is a battle on the horizon. She can tell by the red sky and the black sails on the horizon.
If they are Carthage’s or Etruria’s ships well, it matters not. She will defend her land all the same.
---
540 BCE, the waters of Corsica, Disputed Territory
Carthage knows very well that this is the kind of warfare Etruria prefers. She had told him in early discussions of their alliance that this is the kind of fighting she excels at - although for once this preference does not reflect her people’s own fine abilities as soldiers. It’s one of the reasons he went to her for assistance - it was far, far too easy to get her on his side.
“Captain!” he yells, not taking his eyes from the horizon. “Do we have a count on Hellas’ ships?”
“Not yet, sir!” the captain calls back. “There are still some coming in.”
“Very well.”
---
540 BCE, the waters of Corsica, Disputed Territory
“Have we no more ships, then?”
Hellas stands on the deck of one of her penteconters, swaying warily in the water. It is only one of sixty - a fine fleet for trade and fending off raids, but not meant for large battles.
“No, ma’am,” her naval general replies. “We’ll have to rely solely on strategy, especially with the odds the gods have dealt us.”
“How much have the gods seen it fit to curse us then?”
“We believe they’ve at least one hundred, perhaps one hundred and fifty ships to our sixty.”
A curse indeed. Hellas has fought Carthage enough to know that he favours brute force and large numbers. But this? This is too much, even for him. “Are they all penteconters?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Very well,” Hellas says. “We wait for them to be the aggressors.”
---
540 BCE, the waters of Corsica, Disputed Territory
Etruria’s boats bobs peacefully in the water, waiting for the command to be given. Much of her is unsure about being present for this battle, but there had been an implication from both the Etruscan League and from Carthage that to be absent would be a sin of sorts. So she stands at the bow, looking across the water at Hellas’ fleet. They look ready enough, and she pauses to brush a stand of brown hair from her face. It isn’t done up today - simply tied back so that the wind’s direction will not obscure her vision.
She knows exactly how this battle will end, of course. It’s simply a matter of putting it into action.
From the boat across from hers, someone yells her name. She turns to look at Carthage and almost laughs. He is dressed in deep purple robes - those fit for a king, in the world view of both herself and Hellas - and they contrast with his dark skin.
“You dress as if we’ve all ready won, my friend!” she calls back to him.
“Haven’t we?” he says in reply, a smile on his face. “I do question wearing blue on this day though. Let us hope you do not go over board and become lost amongst the ocean in such colours!”
They both laugh, then take long, sobering breaths.
“You ready then?” Carthage asks.
“On your command.”
In a moment, her ship lurches forward, propelling the fleet towards Hellas’ defenses.
---
540 BCE, the waters of Corsica, Disputed Territory
Hellas swims from the sinking ship as quickly as she can, leaving her own people behind. As the ships sink, they create whirlpools, and she refuses to allow Carthage and Etruria the satisfaction of drowning her.
The next ship over has a rope ladder flung over the side, where other soldiers are swimming towards.
She is not losing this land. She is not.
---
540 BCE, the waters of Corsica, Disputed Territory
It is the middle of the afternoon and at that time, Carthage signals a retreat. Hellas can hardly believe it, but she sees Carthage himself give the order. Oh, it isn’t easy to tell Carthage apart from his countrymen, but the mop of messy black hair on his head and hazel eyes are the give away, and she can see the smile on his face as the combined fleet withdraws.
She knows it’s a stratagem, but cares not. Not now. She lets herself bask in victory for a brief moment, then turns to give orders. With the number of ships still remaining, there will be another attack, and this time it will be on land.
---
540 BCE Alalia, Etruria
Carthage and Etruria wait on the docks of Alalia next to a penteconter that has survived the day’s battle. Both wear swords on their hips and satisfied faces. Hellas stands opposite of them, cursing and promising destruction.
“You cannot retreat and expect me to accept terms!” she bellows. “Nor accept that you’re taking my countrymen and using them and slaves!”
Etruria shrugs. “Be as that may, you don’t have the strength to repel another attack. From our estimates you lost at least thirty eight out of your sixty ships and reinforcements couldn’t arrive in time if we decided to attack again.”
“And we’ll give you the point that you devastated our fleet,” Carthage continues. Hellas cringes. She hates how her language sounds on Carthage’s tongue - too rough, too unsophisticated, inelegant. Like he is. Barbarian. “Why, for your numbers, it was impressive. But Etruria’s just to the east, and with my colonies in Sardinia well...we could have a quarter of Carthage’s navy on your door step by dawn and all of Etruria the day after.”
Hellas bristles and look from Carthage to Etruria. There’s no hint of apology in Etruria’s grey eyes, and Hellas finds herself wondering how much Carthage had to twist her arm into this battle to begin with. “Then I’ve the luck of Cadmus today.”
“Quite,” Etruria says, letting the reference sail over Carthage’s head. “Which means you’ll also listen to what we want, if you wish to prevent another attack.”
Their negotiation continues long into the night, punctuated every so often by near fights, screams of insults and once, the sound of Etruria falling into the water.
By dawn, Hellas agrees to leave, taking her colony with her.
---
539 BCE - Alalia, Etruria
Carthage disembarks from one of the merchant vessels that makes daily trips between Alalia and the larger island he controls just to the south. It has been a year since he and Etruria won the port from Hellas and still he cannot believe the changes.
In the end, it is hers. It’s built like her cities, but many of the residents are his people.
Etruria waits at the end of the dock. Even she looks different - her hair is back to it’s intricate styling rather than a simple ponytail - and her dress is of a deep sea green. They hug once Carthage approaches.
“What a difference a year makes, huh?” she asks, squeezing him tightly.
“Aye,” Carthage replies, squeezing back. “Fewer raids on both our ships and a far more secure sea route between here and the mainland.”
Etruria lets go first, then laughs. “Her people are complaining, of course.”
“I almost feel like I owe you an apology,” Carthage says.
“Don’t,” Etruria says. “Anyway, there’s a good wine merchant near by --”
“--Yours or mine?”
“--Yours,” Etruria says, “And then a good place for bread - mine, before you ask - that should make for a suitable enough commemorative meal.”
“Lead on then,” Carthage says.
They walk in perfect step with each other towards the wine merchant’s store, smiling and laughing as they catch the other up in their affairs of state. Eventually, their hands find each other’s, and there is no other emotion between them other than pure trust and understanding - the foundation of any alliance.
Fin
Notes
-The Battle of Alalia wasn't a big deal for Greece, but it was for the Etruscan-Carthage alliance. This was the first time it saw battle, and the fact it took territory from Greece and proceeded to share it without incident is a big deal.
-Carthage and Etruria had MANY trade agreements well up to the Punic Wars (where Etruria sided with Rome) - often deciding who could trade where etc. They were fairly good about sharing the market with one another, and there's a good amount of archeological evidence of trade between them as well, although not much. Both nation were more concerned with the bottom line.
-The exact date of the battle is unknown, it's supposedly between 540 and 535 BCE.
-The other thing is that sources contradict that if all of the Etruscan League was involved with the fight or only Caere. For my purposes, I decided to go with the whole Etruscan League.
-Alalia is on modern Corsica. Carthage controlled Sardinia until the Punic Wars.
Rating: PG 13
Characters: Etruria, Hellass, Carthage
Warnings: Violence
Summary: The Greek colony of Alalia has ruffled feathers and caused an alliance to be struck.
541 BCE - Tarchnal, Etruria
Etruria rarely allows her home in Tarchnal to be used for any purpose other than living, but for this debate, she has made the exception. The leaders from her twelve cities needed room far away from the delegates of Carthage to discuss their proposal.
It is one that she herself is unsure of. Etruria has been fond of Phoenicia since she was young and his cousin, Carthage, has proven to be a strong trade partner. All the same, it seems unthinkable to ally herself against Hellas. Hellas, who has given her so much culture and so many ideas. Hellas who has been there since the early days of her civilization.
But then there is the reality of the matter. As the representative from Caere says, Hellas has been expanding too much. Colonizing - truly colonizing - in Etruscan territory and attacking their trading ships. Etruria has gnored it for too long, and that their monetary losses are unacceptable. Such inaction might encourage Hellas to step foot on the mainland of Etruria, giving the entire nation an unwanted war.
He’s simply repeating Carthage’s arguments, of course, but they sound better in the words of her people.
After another hour’s debate, Etruria steps out of her home with a decision. Carthage himself stands opposite the door - at a respectful distance, least he eavesdrop - and looks to her.
“Well?”
“You’ve our friendship and our support, Carthage,” Etruria says. “And our military.”
Carthage smiles.
---
540 BCE The Greek Colony of Alalia
Hellas doesn’t need one of her soldiers to come find her and inform her that there is a battle on the horizon. She can tell by the red sky and the black sails on the horizon.
If they are Carthage’s or Etruria’s ships well, it matters not. She will defend her land all the same.
---
540 BCE, the waters of Corsica, Disputed Territory
Carthage knows very well that this is the kind of warfare Etruria prefers. She had told him in early discussions of their alliance that this is the kind of fighting she excels at - although for once this preference does not reflect her people’s own fine abilities as soldiers. It’s one of the reasons he went to her for assistance - it was far, far too easy to get her on his side.
“Captain!” he yells, not taking his eyes from the horizon. “Do we have a count on Hellas’ ships?”
“Not yet, sir!” the captain calls back. “There are still some coming in.”
“Very well.”
---
540 BCE, the waters of Corsica, Disputed Territory
“Have we no more ships, then?”
Hellas stands on the deck of one of her penteconters, swaying warily in the water. It is only one of sixty - a fine fleet for trade and fending off raids, but not meant for large battles.
“No, ma’am,” her naval general replies. “We’ll have to rely solely on strategy, especially with the odds the gods have dealt us.”
“How much have the gods seen it fit to curse us then?”
“We believe they’ve at least one hundred, perhaps one hundred and fifty ships to our sixty.”
A curse indeed. Hellas has fought Carthage enough to know that he favours brute force and large numbers. But this? This is too much, even for him. “Are they all penteconters?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Very well,” Hellas says. “We wait for them to be the aggressors.”
---
540 BCE, the waters of Corsica, Disputed Territory
Etruria’s boats bobs peacefully in the water, waiting for the command to be given. Much of her is unsure about being present for this battle, but there had been an implication from both the Etruscan League and from Carthage that to be absent would be a sin of sorts. So she stands at the bow, looking across the water at Hellas’ fleet. They look ready enough, and she pauses to brush a stand of brown hair from her face. It isn’t done up today - simply tied back so that the wind’s direction will not obscure her vision.
She knows exactly how this battle will end, of course. It’s simply a matter of putting it into action.
From the boat across from hers, someone yells her name. She turns to look at Carthage and almost laughs. He is dressed in deep purple robes - those fit for a king, in the world view of both herself and Hellas - and they contrast with his dark skin.
“You dress as if we’ve all ready won, my friend!” she calls back to him.
“Haven’t we?” he says in reply, a smile on his face. “I do question wearing blue on this day though. Let us hope you do not go over board and become lost amongst the ocean in such colours!”
They both laugh, then take long, sobering breaths.
“You ready then?” Carthage asks.
“On your command.”
In a moment, her ship lurches forward, propelling the fleet towards Hellas’ defenses.
---
540 BCE, the waters of Corsica, Disputed Territory
Hellas swims from the sinking ship as quickly as she can, leaving her own people behind. As the ships sink, they create whirlpools, and she refuses to allow Carthage and Etruria the satisfaction of drowning her.
The next ship over has a rope ladder flung over the side, where other soldiers are swimming towards.
She is not losing this land. She is not.
---
540 BCE, the waters of Corsica, Disputed Territory
It is the middle of the afternoon and at that time, Carthage signals a retreat. Hellas can hardly believe it, but she sees Carthage himself give the order. Oh, it isn’t easy to tell Carthage apart from his countrymen, but the mop of messy black hair on his head and hazel eyes are the give away, and she can see the smile on his face as the combined fleet withdraws.
She knows it’s a stratagem, but cares not. Not now. She lets herself bask in victory for a brief moment, then turns to give orders. With the number of ships still remaining, there will be another attack, and this time it will be on land.
---
540 BCE Alalia, Etruria
Carthage and Etruria wait on the docks of Alalia next to a penteconter that has survived the day’s battle. Both wear swords on their hips and satisfied faces. Hellas stands opposite of them, cursing and promising destruction.
“You cannot retreat and expect me to accept terms!” she bellows. “Nor accept that you’re taking my countrymen and using them and slaves!”
Etruria shrugs. “Be as that may, you don’t have the strength to repel another attack. From our estimates you lost at least thirty eight out of your sixty ships and reinforcements couldn’t arrive in time if we decided to attack again.”
“And we’ll give you the point that you devastated our fleet,” Carthage continues. Hellas cringes. She hates how her language sounds on Carthage’s tongue - too rough, too unsophisticated, inelegant. Like he is. Barbarian. “Why, for your numbers, it was impressive. But Etruria’s just to the east, and with my colonies in Sardinia well...we could have a quarter of Carthage’s navy on your door step by dawn and all of Etruria the day after.”
Hellas bristles and look from Carthage to Etruria. There’s no hint of apology in Etruria’s grey eyes, and Hellas finds herself wondering how much Carthage had to twist her arm into this battle to begin with. “Then I’ve the luck of Cadmus today.”
“Quite,” Etruria says, letting the reference sail over Carthage’s head. “Which means you’ll also listen to what we want, if you wish to prevent another attack.”
Their negotiation continues long into the night, punctuated every so often by near fights, screams of insults and once, the sound of Etruria falling into the water.
By dawn, Hellas agrees to leave, taking her colony with her.
---
539 BCE - Alalia, Etruria
Carthage disembarks from one of the merchant vessels that makes daily trips between Alalia and the larger island he controls just to the south. It has been a year since he and Etruria won the port from Hellas and still he cannot believe the changes.
In the end, it is hers. It’s built like her cities, but many of the residents are his people.
Etruria waits at the end of the dock. Even she looks different - her hair is back to it’s intricate styling rather than a simple ponytail - and her dress is of a deep sea green. They hug once Carthage approaches.
“What a difference a year makes, huh?” she asks, squeezing him tightly.
“Aye,” Carthage replies, squeezing back. “Fewer raids on both our ships and a far more secure sea route between here and the mainland.”
Etruria lets go first, then laughs. “Her people are complaining, of course.”
“I almost feel like I owe you an apology,” Carthage says.
“Don’t,” Etruria says. “Anyway, there’s a good wine merchant near by --”
“--Yours or mine?”
“--Yours,” Etruria says, “And then a good place for bread - mine, before you ask - that should make for a suitable enough commemorative meal.”
“Lead on then,” Carthage says.
They walk in perfect step with each other towards the wine merchant’s store, smiling and laughing as they catch the other up in their affairs of state. Eventually, their hands find each other’s, and there is no other emotion between them other than pure trust and understanding - the foundation of any alliance.
Fin
Notes
-The Battle of Alalia wasn't a big deal for Greece, but it was for the Etruscan-Carthage alliance. This was the first time it saw battle, and the fact it took territory from Greece and proceeded to share it without incident is a big deal.
-Carthage and Etruria had MANY trade agreements well up to the Punic Wars (where Etruria sided with Rome) - often deciding who could trade where etc. They were fairly good about sharing the market with one another, and there's a good amount of archeological evidence of trade between them as well, although not much. Both nation were more concerned with the bottom line.
-The exact date of the battle is unknown, it's supposedly between 540 and 535 BCE.
-The other thing is that sources contradict that if all of the Etruscan League was involved with the fight or only Caere. For my purposes, I decided to go with the whole Etruscan League.
-Alalia is on modern Corsica. Carthage controlled Sardinia until the Punic Wars.