Racing Against Time (Part 2)

The Persians had originally prepared to defend against the mercenaries' attack, but gradually realized that the mercenaries were sprinting straight for the adjacent peak. Alarmed, they understood their mistake and hastily regrouped, rushing toward the neighboring summit...

At this point, Tissaphernes’s main force had already drawn close to the mountain pass, while the mercenaries formed up near its entrance. The baggage camp and the wounded were gathered in the rear, dangerously close to the ridge now held by the Persians. If the Persians on that height had loosed their arrows at full force, they could just reach the edge of the mercenary battle line. But at this moment, both the Persians and Xenophon's troops were racing toward the summit from two different directions...

...

“Raise shields!”

“Slingers, ready!”

“Archers, prepare!”

The leaders, faces grim, shouted orders to their units. Ahead of the mercenary formation, the Persians surged forward like a tide while slowly spreading their ranks...

“Hurry! Hurry! Brothers, hold on—you’re racing for your survival! Give an extra push now, and it will make our march easier later, sparing us many troublesome battles!” Xenophon urged his men as he led the climb up the mountain.

By the time they reached the hillside, the soldiers felt their muscles ache, their breath come short, and their pace slacken. But when they saw the Persians on the slope of the adjacent peak doing the same, a sense of urgency drove them not to relent.

Though the Persians were closer to the crest, the slope on their side was steep, unlike the gentler incline the mercenaries had taken from the rear.

In this “mountain race” between the two armies, the Greeks had the last laugh. They reached the summit first and, ignoring their fatigue, immediately hurled javelins and stones at the climbing Persians.

The Persians turned and fled, even abandoning their original positions, and ran all the way to the foot of the mountain...

Tissaphernes’s ranged assault continued unabated. Despite his own mounting casualties, he gave no order to withdraw, putting heavy pressure on the mercenaries. Just as they were struggling to hold on, a scout cavalryman rode up to report: Xenophon had sent word—they had seized the ridge and driven off the Persians!

“Withdraw!” Cheirisophus breathed a sigh of relief.

And so the mercenaries began an orderly retreat...

The Persian army pressed close.

When the mercenaries had all withdrawn into the mountain pass and the pursuing Persians entered the range of Xenophon’s troops, they were struck by a hail of stones and javelins falling from the summit above. Only then did they sound the retreat...

After clearing the mountain pass, the mercenaries entered a plain dotted with many villages. They set up camp, tended to the wounded, and replenished their supplies extensively, as the guides all said that the Dukeya mountains lay ahead. For this reason, the leaders convened an important meeting.

“We Greeks resist Persia, and the Dukeyans also resist Persia. According to the guides, the Persians once sent a force of about one hundred thousand to attack Dukeya, only to suffer a crushing defeat. Since both we and the Dukeyans have enmity with Persia, we should be able to get along peacefully. Besides, we are merely passing through to Armenia and will not harm the Dukeyans in any way. If we send envoys to express our peaceful intentions, surely they will accept!” Xenophon spoke confidently, growing more self-assured after his recent experiences.

“Peaceful relations? Easy to say!” Timasion sneered. He was somewhat irked by Xenophon’s boldness. Both Davos and Xenophon were young and exceptionally capable, their sharpness drawing jealousy and slight resentment from older mercenaries like Cleanho and Timasion. “A force of ten thousand men marching into their territory—and an army that has repeatedly defeated the Persians—how could the Dukeyans not be tense?! How could they not be afraid?! I don’t buy it! Oh... you say we’re just passing through Dukeya, but what if we suddenly attacked their villages and settlements? The cost would be too great. Would the Dukeyans take that risk? Let me remind you, the Dukeyans are fierce and savage—even Persia, with its vast territory surrounding them, is afraid. How could they possibly agree to the demands of strangers who have come from a thousand miles away?!”

No sooner had Timasion finished than Cleanho chimed in: “A few days ago, my men captured some Dukeyan slaves belonging to the Persians. After questioning them, we learned that ‘Dukeyans’ is merely the Persian name for the mountain dwellers of this region. In reality, the Dukeya mountains contain many tribes and different peoples. They often fight and kill each other over tribal interests, and some tribes are sworn enemies. The problem now is this: even if we gain permission from one tribe, after crossing a few mountains we might be attacked by another. If we have to negotiate tribe by tribe, the delay will be too long and we will run out of food. Remember, the Dukeya mountains are barren land, lacking provisions!”

“Then we’ll just have to force our way through!” Hieronymus, who rarely spoke, now said in a firm tone. “Once we enter Dukeya, we won’t attack first. But if anyone dares to attack us, we’ll give them a lesson!”

“And who knows who’ll be giving the lesson!” Xanthiparis said grimly. “The Persians holding that ridge already gave us plenty of trouble, and that was just a few hills! Once we enter Dukeya, it’s mountains all around. Most of us are heavy infantry, and we have a lot of baggage. Marching will be hard enough, let alone fighting. The Dukeyans know the terrain well and have been climbing mountains since childhood—that’s their skill. We’ll have to rely on guides. The mountain paths are narrow; our column will be stretched out in a long line. The Dukeyans can pop up anywhere to ambush us, and we’ll have no way to deal with them...” Xanthiparis’s words plunged everyone into silence.

Xenophon seized the moment: “So we still need to negotiate with the Dukeyans?”

No one answered him. All eyes turned to Cheirisophus.

Cheirisophus, however, looked at Davos, who had remained silent in the corner, and asked, “Commander Davos, what is your view?”

Davos smiled faintly and spoke slowly: “After listening to everyone, I see two main opinions. First, negotiate with the Dukeyans—safe, but time-consuming, and they might refuse. Second, force our way through—quick, but costly in casualties. So why not combine both into one solution?”

Combine them into one solution? The leaders exchanged puzzled glances. Even Cheirisophus was confused.

Philistos, standing nearby, was secretly amused. In fact, the officers of Davos’s camp had discussed this matter the previous night. When Davos laid out his plan, they were stunned by its novelty but had to admit it had a good chance of working. Now, facing the other leaders, Philistos felt a certain superiority.

In unison, they asked, “How do we combine them?”

“Find one tribe and cooperate with them—let them clear the way for us!” Davos’s words struck like a thunderbolt.

The leaders were dumbfounded.

Xenophon was the first to react: “Davos, you mean... use Dukeyans to fight Dukeyans? Is that possible?”

“Profit—with profit, anything is possible,” Davos affirmed.

During the three days the mercenaries camped, Persian cavalry appeared repeatedly, attacking isolated soldiers, stealing livestock, and even attempting to burn the villages.

After discussion, the leaders concluded that Tissaphernes was doing everything in his power to prevent the mercenaries from entering Dukeya, even scorching the Persian king’s own territory and people. To stop him from committing even more outrageous acts, the army had to enter Dukeya ahead of schedule.

So on the fourth morning, the mercenaries struck camp and marched north.

From a distance, Tissaphernes watched the long dragon-like column of Greek mercenaries gradually disappear into the shadow of the mountains...