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Several Bedouin horse archers, seeing the men separated from the main ranks, bore down on them. One leaned out from the saddle and grasped the reins of Dalassenos’ horse. Dalassenos jammed the hilt of his sword into the face of the rider. Another of the Banu Kilab took firm hold of his horse’s reins from the other side. A third pulled Dalassenos from the saddle. They set upon the unfortunate doux. They kicked him, and beat him with their fists. Both Constantine and Theophylact Dalassenos were also pulled from the saddle, but they offered much less resistance and were tied hand and foot. The sons of Dalassenos were pushed over to the baggage wagons and leather sacks placed over their heads. Both were made to sit and tied securely to the wagon wheels. Dalassenos was no longer moving. One of the Banu Kilab leaned over and with a slick, wet slicing motion, cut the throat of the doux. From where he stood, Ulf watched with a sinking heart as the body of Damian Dalassanos thrashed about on the ground. Their standard gone and their doux dead, the tide of the battle began to turn for the Roman forces.
The horsemen came upon them in a wave like a hot desert wind, with a rush of trampling feet. Somewhere in the chaos Ulf thought he heard his father’s voice to stand firm, but then all was drowned out by the shrill ki-yiing of the Bedouin. He was enveloped in thick choking dust stirred up by the horses’ feet, the clash of metal on metal, the screams of dying men, the smell of blood, coppery on the back of his tongue, making his gorge rise.
A hoarse cry rose up in the throats of the Fatimids. “The enemy of Allah is dead! The enemy of Allah is dead. May Allah be praised!” It was repeated over and over like a chant. A war cry. The heavy war drums, stretched with elephant hide, sounded deep and hollow, a steady thrum that set the rhythm of the swordplay on the plain. The gates of Apamea were opening. Now a stillness had taken over, so even at this distance they could hear the grind of the pulleys as they brought up the massive iron portcullis. The soldiers of Apamea rushed forward. First quietly. Then with a great cry, as their numbers swelled into the ranks of ibn Samsama’s soldiers. Someone had separated the head of Damian Dalassenos from his body and placed it on a spear where it waved, a grotesque battle standard over the now recaptured Fatimid baggage wagons.
from The Plague Casket
Thus was the gruesome end of Damian Dalassenoss, Doux of Antioch on July 19, 998. Apamea must have seemed like an easy victory to him. He had the numbers, though no longer the element of surprise as messengers were dispatched to the Fatimids who came to the rescue of the besieged Apameans who had been purportedly been living on dogs and cadavers as the siege dragged on.
Apamea is not a famous battle and only those who are students of the history of medieval Byzantine-occupied Syria will have ever heard of it. Damian Dalassenos learned of a fire in the city of Apamea early in June of 998. He set out to take advantage of the city and once he arrived was surprised and dismayed to discover that the Hamadid hajib Lu’lu’ al-Kabir of the Emir of Beroea (now Aleppo) had arrived before him. He must surely have attempted to treat with the Hamidid forces. They eventually left, but not before leaving supplies at the walls of Apamea for the inhabitants. Beroea was supposed to be a vassal state to the Byzantines, so al-Kabir’s actions must certainly have appeared treasonous. The Hamidids did retreat and Dalassenos set up a siege. Even once the Fatimid forces appeared, the Byzantines might have had an easy victory if ego had not gotten in the way. Al-hakim’s Bedouin forces (perhaps numbering 1,000 men by some accounts) took possession of the Byzantine baggage carts. Incensed by this, Dalassenos pursued them, accompanied by two of his sons. I have not read in any of the records I have thus far perused how many other accompanied him, as he pursued the Bedouin contingent. It was a staggeringly bad move on his part. Cut off from the rest of his men, Dalassenos found himself beset by the Bedouin tribesmen. For some reason he wore neither cuirass or helmet which made him all the more vulnerable. He was killed and his head was paraded so that all might see that the doux of Antioch had been slain. His two sons were taken captive, where they remained in Cairo as hostages for the next ten years, reportedly ransomed for six thousand dinari. The death of the doux disheartened the Byzantines and they fell back before the Fatimid forces who claimed victory for the day.
The battle was the instigation for the emperor Basil II breaking off his affairs in Bulgaria to ride with his Varangian Guard to Syria the following year, where he besieged Emesa (modern Homs, Syria) garrisoned Shaizar and burned several smaller forts. Basil spent three months in Syria personally campaigning there before he set his most trusted man Nikephoros Ouranos as doux over Antioch, replacing the unfortunate Dalassenos. He then turned his attention to Georgia where his former Kouropalatēs had just died (presumably at the hands of his angry nobles with poisoned communion wine) with the purpose of taking over the lands that the Kouropalatēs had been forced to hand over to Basil as his legatee upon the former’s death. (This was his punishment for backing the losing rebels against Basil earlier in the latter’s reign, but that is a story for another time.) Basil was able to conclude a ten year truce with the Fatimids, which gave him time to continue his ongoing wars in Bulgaria. A blip as it were on the timeline of the Byzantine Empire, the battle of Apamea was yet another marker in the ongoing turmoil that has marred the history of Syria.