At that moment, the Lucanians had already come into Davos's line of sight.
"Carry out the defensive deployment we trained for immediately!" Davos promptly issued orders to each company commander.
The company commanders began directing their men into their designated positions in an orderly fashion:
"First Heavy Infantry Company, follow me up the wooden wall on the east side of the north gate!"
"Second Heavy Infantry Company, brothers, follow me up the wooden wall on the north side of the south gate!"
"Third Heavy Infantry Company, brothers, come with me to the training ground! Move it, damn it!"
"First Light Infantry Company archers, platoon leaders will take you up to the various watchtowers on the south side!"
...
Soon, the soldiers were all in position, leaving only the routed troops surrounded by the guard unit.
"How many are there?" Davos urgently asked Philistos, who had just gone over to calm them.
"A lot! Nearly four hundred, mostly freemen, and more than half are unarmed," Philistos said.
"Mesis!" Davos shouted loudly.
Mesis hurried over.
"How many javelins do we have left?"
"Five hundred and twenty-six. They were rush-ordered from Thurii's blacksmiths over the past two days. All the money we made in the market went into making these weapons..." Mesis complained.
Davos didn't have the heart to listen to his grumbling right now. He said to Philistos, "Give each of them one javelin, then assign a few to each platoon so they can join the defense as well!"
"Understood!" Philistos walked toward the routed men.
But Mesis stood still.
Davos understood his hesitation and immediately said, "We'll collect the javelins after they're used. Besides, aren't the Lucanians bringing us weapons?"
That immediately brought a smile to Mesis's face. He promptly ordered the slaves to fetch weapons from the baggage camp, trusting Davos enough not to worry about the possibility that the mercenaries might fail to repel the enemy and the camp might be overrun.
The mercenaries stood behind the wooden wall without any concern either. They calmly watched the enemy surging toward the camp like a tidal wave, even taking the time to educate the new recruits.
"Now, do you think building such a complex camp was necessary?" Matonis asked with a smile.
"Absolutely necessary!" Kteippos said excitedly. "I just hope these native barbarians get a proper taste of the traps I dug!"
The mercenaries leaned against the wooden wall, catching their breath and conserving the energy they'd spent earlier, while eagerly preparing to watch the show. As for Heilos's Fifth Heavy Infantry Company, since they hadn't fought earlier, they now wished the enemy would charge straight at them so they could join the melee.
After the Pyxous warriors separated from the Grumentum troops, they immediately continued their pursuit eastward.
Grenatus ran at the front. The mercenary camp had already come into view, and he roared, "Charge in! Kill them all!"
The warriors shouted back in fury, their fatigue seeming to dissolve in the clamor as they surged forward even faster.
"Company Commander, the Lucanians are less than two hundred meters from the camp!" the archer squad leader on the watchtower called down to Alpuens on the ground.
"Remind me when they're at one hundred meters!" Alpuens replied, then turned to the slingers behind him and ordered, "Get ready!"
Because the walkway behind the wooden wall was too narrow for the slingers to operate effectively, they had moved down to the base of the wall. Now, one by one, they silently pulled egg-sized stones from the leather pouches at their waists and placed them into the pouch of their slings.
One hundred meters!
The soldiers on the wooden wall stared intently ahead. When they saw several Lucanians step into that zone, they couldn't help but cheer.
Grenatus had no idea what the Greeks in the camp were shouting about. He instinctively raised his round shield. During the pursuit, many warriors had discarded their shields, finding them too heavy and slow, but he had kept his.
"Greeks, soon you won't be able to make a sound," he muttered viciously. As his right foot stepped forward, a sudden sharp pain shot through him.
"A trap!" Startled, he instinctively pulled his foot back, but the pain intensified, making it nearly impossible to speak. Looking down, he saw a large chunk of flesh torn from his right calf, bleeding profusely. Pushing aside the wild grass for a closer look, he spotted a thirty-centimeter-long iron spike, sharp at the tip and barbed, buried diagonally in the soil. He yanked hard, but it wouldn't come out. Digging through the packed earth, he saw that the spike's base was tightly welded to a wooden block embedded deep in the ground. No wonder it had torn his flesh so savagely.
"Treacherous Greeks!" Grenatus cursed, tearing a strip of linen from his clothing to wrap his wounded leg. Using his spear as a crutch, he pushed himself upright and, gritting through the pain, shouted, "Watch out! There are iron hooks on the ground!"
His warning came too late. Many warriors stumbled and fell, crying out in agony. On the wooden wall, the mercenaries cheered loudly at the sound of the enemy's screams. "The flesh hooks are working! Another one down!"
The veterans smugly told the new recruits that this was Commander Davos's masterstroke, inspiring even more awe of Davos among the newcomers. In truth, it was a standard feature of Roman camp construction from Davos's past life, something he'd learned on military history forums. This trap didn't seem deadly, but foot injuries in the age of cold weapons were enough to render a soldier combat-ineffective.
When the following Lucanian warriors saw this carnage, they became much more cautious. They bent down, carefully searching through the wild grass and scattered rocks, moving forward slowly to avoid the dreaded traps. But then the mercenaries' ranged attack struck. Although the slingers couldn't see the enemy directly, the archers on the watchtowers observed and directed, and with the sheer number of Pyxous warriors, accuracy wasn't too bad. Dodging the flying stones made it impossible to keep an eye on the ground, so the Pyxous warriors either got hit by stones or stabbed by the iron hooks...
After advancing dozens of meters with great difficulty, they encountered an even more terrifying trap—what the mercenaries called "tombstones." It was a pit about one and a half meters deep, with sharpened wooden stakes planted at the bottom and concealed by loose soil. If someone stepped on it carelessly, gravity would drive the pointed stakes straight through their foot...
By the time the great leader of Pyxous, Sicinag, arrived, he saw countless warriors lying on the ground clutching their feet, their cries of pain unceasing. The other warriors stood a hundred meters from the enemy camp, faces filled with fear, hesitating to advance...
"What's going on?! Why aren't you attacking?!" Sicinag asked angrily, his heart aching at the sight of so many fallen tribesmen.
"Father." Grenatus limped over, using his spear as a crutch, and said in anguish, "Those despicable Greeks set many traps outside the camp. Many of our brave warriors are wounded. We can't even get close to their camp."
"Brave?! With this cowardly behavior, you dare call yourselves brave?!" Sicinag's scolding made those around him lower their heads in shame.
Looking at his most valued son, covered in wounds and looking bedraggled, his usual spirited demeanor replaced by exhaustion and dejection, Sicinag felt even more pain. His tone softened a little: "How are your injuries?"
"Just flesh wounds. I'm fine," Grenatus forced himself to say. "But... our tribesmen have too many casualties... We can't... we can't keep attacking..."
Sicinag nodded slightly. Staring at the mercenary camp not far away, and recalling the casualties these mercenaries had inflicted on his warriors, a surge of hatred welled up in him. "Let the Bruttians go in!"
After the Greek army had retreated in disarray, the warriors of Vegium were not as driven by revenge as the Pyxous men, so they hadn't pursued quickly. They arrived at the same time as Sicinag and had witnessed the sorry state of the Pyxous warriors. But being under someone else's command, they had no choice but to submit. Sedorum, the great leader of Vegium, accepted Sicinag's order, but requested to borrow the round shields from the Pyxous warriors.
Sicinag agreed.
The Pyxous men ordered the Vegium men around arrogantly, which bred resentment among them. They held their breath, determined to prove themselves better than those Pyxous weaklings. Learning from the Pyxous men's mistakes, they avoided the grassy areas and advanced only along the moderately wide, flat path in front of the enemy camp. Carrying their round shields, they held them tightly to protect their heads, formed a long line, and moved forward cautiously...
Camp Defense