Volume 3: The First Croton War, Chapter 43 Surprise Attack (Part 3)

This time, following Melanthius out to battle, Kolebus hadn’t expected things to go so smoothly. Taking Thurii had been easy, and he’d managed to grab plenty of spoils. No wonder people called Melanthius the darling of the goddess of luck. And he’d also heard that the Croton city council was planning to send settlers to the Sybaris Plain. So he started scheming: after returning to Croton, he’d sell off his loot, save up enough to first marry a wife, then join Croton’s colonist expedition. The land on the Sybaris Plain was flatter and more expansive than Croton’s own Crathis Plain—surely he could get himself a decent plot.

That night, Kolebus was dreaming sweet dreams when pain jolted him awake. Opening his eyes, he saw his tent mates scrambling out like a stirred-up hornet’s nest, and he, sleeping by the entrance, had already been trampled a few times.

“Watch it!” he yelled angrily.

“Enemy attack! Get out and fight!” a comrade shouted as he dashed out.

“Enemy attack? What enemy?” Kolebus was still dazed.

Then screams came one after another, snapping him alert. He pushed himself up with both hands, barely standing. He’d drunk plenty of wine the night before, undiluted, and its potency clung to him. His head was foggy, his body unsteady, nearly sending him sprawling. No time to put on armor. He grabbed a spear from the ground and staggered out of the tent. Through bleary eyes, he saw heavy infantry, fully armored and formed into a tight line, advancing fast toward them. Two of his comrades charged forward with their spears and were stabbed down in no time. That smooth coordination, that clean, practiced killing—it shook Kolebus fully awake. Terror flooded him. He dropped his spear, turned, and ran.

“Run! Get out of here!” With a strong will to survive, Kolebus ran while checking the sun’s position in the sky. He decided to flee east, toward Castron.

He hadn’t gone far when he saw people running toward him, shouting in panic: “Enemy! Run! …”

Enemies to the east too?! Kolebus panicked and just followed the flow.

Next, he ran around like a headless fly, while more and more people crowded around him. Pack animals were charging and colliding too, injuring many, but no matter how he ran, he couldn’t escape.

By now, even in his frantic mind, Kolebus understood: they were surrounded, and the circle was getting tighter…

…

Davos’s legion headquarters was positioned behind the Second Battalion, between the Clytemnestra camp and Castron. Thirty guards stood ready, their attention mostly on the east. Platoon leader Martius raised the legion banner. Davos listened intently as Laedes reported the latest updates from his cavalry squadron.

“First Battalion has begun the attack!”

“Second Battalion has begun the attack!”

“Third Battalion has begun the attack!”

“Seventh Battalion and the Lucanian Battalion have begun the attack!”

“First Battalion broke through; the enemy offered no resistance!”

“Second Battalion’s advance is smooth!”

“First Battalion has passed the baggage area and is continuing forward!”

“So fast?!” Davos was surprised. “How did they manage it?”

Laedes answered from the side: “Around the baggage area were Thurian freemen and slaves who had sided with Croton. As soon as they saw our attack, they all fled. Capus and his men bypassed that area directly, leaving one platoon to slowly clear it while the rest continued on.”

“Mm, Capus made the right choice!” Davos nodded approvingly.

Just then, another cavalryman reported: “Second Battalion has shifted into two ranks!”

“First Battalion has shifted into two ranks!”

“Legion Commander, our attack is going very smoothly. The encirclement is shrinking fast!” Asiastes was beaming.

“Yes, smoother than I expected!” Davos exhaled, easing his tension, and asked Laedes: “Still no movement from Castron?”

“None.”

“Looks like the enemy is slow to sense danger and slow to react. Alpuens won’t get a fight this time.” Davos felt relaxed enough to joke: “When that wrestling champion wakes up, he’ll sure be puzzled: ‘Where did my army go?’”

Everyone around laughed.

In truth, Davos’s judgment was off. The sentries in Castron had noticed something odd about the Croton camp. Though the camp was about three miles from Castron, separated by woods and a river—so that even from the city walls you couldn’t see its outline—the loud cacophony of screams and shouts from ten thousand soldiers could still be heard faintly by the guards.

So a sentry reported the anomaly to his captain. The captain thought: The Croton camp should be safe! The Bruttians to the west are blocked by mountains and can’t get through. Thurii to the north has been burned, and the Trionto River protects it anyway. Crimissa to the south has already sided with Croton. And Castron covers the northeast. There couldn’t possibly be enemies attacking Croton right now. Were those arrogant Crotonians just having another wild party at dawn?

Out of habit, he sent a few cavalrymen to check anyway. But they were ambushed in the woods by Alpuens’ archers, who concentrated fire and wiped them all out.

As the encirclement tightened further, some companies were forced to form three ranks because the attack lines were too dense, while the besieged Crotonian army grew more and more crowded as space shrank.

Melanthius and the other senior officers had been invited into the city for feasting and revelry and hadn’t returned yet, but the company commanders were still there. When the officers sleeping in the center of the camp realized something was wrong, they began struggling to get their men into armor and weapons—most were drunk—and prepare to fight. But the Amendolara force attacked too fast. Deserters were running everywhere, throwing the hastily organized units into chaos. Yet now, as the shrinking space prevented the deserters from scattering, the company commanders with their brightly plumed helmets became rallying points.

“We’re surrounded! Our only way out is east! Charge east! …” The company commanders shouted in unison, drawing attention. They led the men to rush toward the sun, and the Amendolara army faced the toughest test since the surprise attack.

Drakos saw the dark mass of enemies surging toward him, but he wasn’t panicked at all. The Second Battalion had encountered this before. Last time, they had held off the fierce Lucanian assault on their food supplies. After months of training, they were even more confident about stopping these enemies, most of whom wore no armor, had incomplete weapons, and some were even naked.

“Order: hold defense here!” Drakos commanded the drummers—each battalion had five, used not only to relay orders but also to adjust the soldiers’ marching pace and keep formation, while boosting morale.

The rhythmic drums sounded. Company standard-bearers waved their flags. In fact, platoon leaders had already judged the situation and ordered the men to halt and prepare for defense.

The Crotonian charge came like a series of huge waves—mighty but scattered. The Second Battalion’s defense was like an iron wall—thin but tough.

The forces collided. One side had been attacking continuously and was exhausted; the other had been fleeing from the start and was weary. One side was fully armed, the other had incomplete equipment. One side had fewer men, the other more. In close-quarters combat, the outcome was obvious. But at this critical moment, the Crotonians finally showed their courage: those without weapons rammed with their bodies or kicked; if a spear pierced them, they grabbed it with both hands and held on…

For a time, the Second Battalion was locked in bitter fighting.

Davos received the news immediately and ordered: “Speed up the attack for the other battalions, and call on the enemy to surrender!”

At the same time, he told Laedes to summon Alpuens and his light infantry back to assist the Second Battalion, while he himself led the guard unit to the front.

When the legion banner appeared behind the Second Battalion’s line, and the bronze statue of Hades shone golden in the dawn light high above, the struggling soldiers of the Second Battalion felt their morale soar.

“Drakos, can you hold?” Davos deliberately asked loudly, catching the Second Battalion commander directing from the rear.

“Legion Commander, we’ll push them back soon!” Drakos gritted his teeth, turned to the drummers, and roared: “Beat the attack drums! We must attack!”

Under the commander’s gaze and the sound of the war drums, the soldiers roused themselves. Though their line was only three ranks deep—thin compared to the enemy—they launched a counterattack. They slammed their round shields forward, stabbed their spears into any gap, and when an enemy grabbed a spear, they pulled out their swords and slashed. Usually, Greek infantry battles were frustratingly slow—the dull clang of shield against shield, the ringing of spears on armor, the screech of swords clashing—fighting for ages without taking down an opponent. But now, every swing, every thrust, every slash drew a pained grunt from an enemy, the tearing sound of metal piercing flesh, and trails of blood beads from the swords…

The Second Battalion’s fierce counterattack stopped the enemy’s charge, and the courage of these Crotonians—most without armor and even without weapons—quickly faded before the iron wall.

The light infantry, arriving quickly, launched arrows and sling stones at the rear of the Crotonian assault line, preventing their follow-up forces from keeping up and forming a united front.

The final weight thrown onto the scales of war came from the ferocious attacks of the other three battalions. The encirclement shrank sharply. The Crotonian army in the center was nearly packed body to body, turning around difficult, let alone breaking out.

Nearly ten thousand men were tightly surrounded in a circle less than a mile across. Arrows and stones rained down without cease. Cries of “Surrender and you won’t be killed” resounded from all sides. Men kept falling with screams. Fear and terror spread rapidly through the enemy ranks…

The freemen and slaves were the first to kneel and surrender.

Then came the soldiers from Scylletium, Crimissa, and Castron.

Finally, the exhausted Crotonians lowered their proud heads…