Volume 5: The Hegemon of Southern Italy, Chapter 85: The Battle of the Anleen Hills (Part 4)

The Peucetian warrior screamed, his body lurching forward as he lost his balance and tumbled down the hillside with a cry of terror.

Tsipet quickly rolled left on the spot, dodging the thrusting spear...

Scenes like this played out repeatedly along the Peucetian defensive line, forcing the Peucetii to involuntarily retreat, which naturally meant far fewer javelins were thrown at the Daonian soldiers.

"Seventh Battalion, well done!" someone behind Leotychides shouted in praise.

"Speed it up! Climb faster!..." Seizing the opportunity, Parmenion, the platoon leader positioned at the center of this small phalanx, urged them on loudly.

The standard bearer waved the military banner forward continuously.

Watching the peltasts fight so valiantly alone, Leotychides and his comrades were not about to lag behind. Coordinating with each other, they struggled upward. The thirty-meter height was soon beneath their feet. The peltasts had already withdrawn to the flanks of the small phalanx, leaving only the enemy before them.

"HADES!!!" The soldiers shouted the name of the alliance's patron deity, raised their round shields, and charged forward...

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Triphyas and Tudeples' forces arrived at the predetermined position on the right flank. Normally, they would have needed considerable time to reorganize their ranks before launching an attack, but with the Daonian army already engaged, the stimulus spurred them to hasten their pace.

Since there were no enemies ahead, both Triphyas and Tudeples, without prior agreement, mixed their light infantry into the phalanx to increase its overall depth, and began climbing the hill in a somewhat scattered formation.

The empty, gentle slope of over twenty meters was easy to ascend, and they intended to attack the enemy's flank, thereby deciding the battle's outcome.

But just as they stepped onto the hillside with confidence and ease, a large number of enemies suddenly appeared at the summit.

Messapian cavalry! Triphyas felt a jolt of alarm, but quickly steadied himself: Though the Messapian cavalry were formidable, this was not flat ground—there was not enough room for them to maneuver. Could they really dare to face heavy infantry head-on?!

The Heraclea-Metapontum allied forces continued their ascent.

The cavalry atop the slope began hurling short javelins.

As the Greeks raised their shields in defense, many began shouting in alarm: "Cavalry! Messapian cavalry behind us!!"

The soldiers heard only the thunder of hooves behind them as a large force of Messapian cavalry came around from the distance through a mountain path and started throwing javelins at the rear ranks of the Greek soldiers climbing the hill.

Caught off guard by this sudden attack, the Heraclea-Metapontum allied forces fell into some confusion.

In fact, it was not only Messapian cavalry that appeared here but also Peucetian cavalry—thirteen hundred riders in total. Meanwhile, the cavalry on the summit began gently patting their horses' heads, leaning down to whisper something to their beloved steeds, their eyes filled with deep reluctance. Soon, their expressions hardened with determination.

"LYCAON!!!" The Peucetian cavalry raised their hands and shouted.

"LYCAON!!!" The Messapian cavalry responded in succession. King Lycaon had dared to mock the supreme Greek god Zeus and was turned into a wolf, but most of his descendants considered him a hero. Before every battle, they shouted his name to boost morale. The Messapians, influenced by Hellenization, had gradually abandoned this tradition, but now they revived it.

The cavalry on the summit wrapped their arms tightly around their horses' necks, clamped their legs hard against the horses' flanks, and several hundred warhorses began galloping down the slope in loose formation, gaining speed. Occasionally, riders and horses tumbled to the ground, but it did not affect the cavalry's speed or fighting spirit.

"Raise... raise shields for defense..." Triphyas's mind went blank for a moment at the sight.

To the eyes of the Heraclea-Metapontum allied soldiers, it was like facing rows of boulders rolling down the mountain. Who could stand against that roaring kinetic energy! Just as they panicked and tried to dodge, the cavalry slammed headlong into the phalanx—instantly, horses neighed, men screamed, horses collapsed, soldiers flew, and Greek fighters fell in entire swaths, hardly anyone left standing...

The Greek phalanx collapsed in an instant.

Davos soon received a report from Tolmides: A large number of enemy cavalry had suddenly appeared on the right flank.

He immediately felt uneasy and made a decisive move: "Izam, lead your battalion to reinforce Triphyas and Tudeples' forces immediately. After repelling the enemy cavalry, continue attacking the enemy's flank!"

"Yes!" Izam had finally received his mission. Excited, he punched his right fist against his left chest, saluted Davos, then ran down the hill, through the pass, and shouted to his men: "Brothers, follow me to kill the enemy!"

Amid cheers, the soldiers of the reconnaissance battalion, clutching their smaller leather shields in their left hands and the short swords issued exclusively to them in their right, swiftly headed for the right flank.

Eumachus did not understand why these Daonians were so eager to join the fight, but he was still awed by their high morale. He silently resolved: Tarentum must avoid conflict with these combat-loving Daonians unless absolutely necessary.

"Lord Davos, no matter how formidable the Messapian cavalry are, they cannot overcome Greek heavy infantry, especially in this mountainous terrain. There is no need to send additional troops to reinforce them," Eumachus could not help but advise.

"What we all know, the cavalry-expert Messapians surely know too, yet they still sent their cavalry. That is suspicious," Davos said calmly.

Finding his reasoning sound, Eumachus grew more worried.

Earlier, the herald Tolmides had consolidated the continuous reports from the messengers stationed behind the two Army Corps and each battalion, and reported to Davos: "The battalion led by Amyntas is steadily forcing the Messapian heavy infantry in the middle valley back... The First and Second Corps on the left and right flanks also hold a slight advantage in the fighting against the Peucetii, who hold the high ground. Furthermore, following your orders, the two light infantry battalions have withdrawn from the front-line engagement, combined their forces, and begun moving to the left to attack the enemy's flank (since the right flank is being handled by the Heraclea and Metapontum forces making a turning maneuver)..."

With advantage across the entire line, Davos realized the enemy had fewer troops than his own. This was the first time since he had come to Magna Graecia leading an army that he outnumbered the enemy in a pitched battle. Thus, he had the confidence to dispatch reinforcements, nipping any potential disadvantage in the bud.

Peucetian King Trellemoni never imagined the battlefield situation would be completely opposite to his plan. Not only were the Messapian heavy infantry holding the low ground in the valley being steadily pushed back, but even his proud Peucetian warriors, who held a clear geographical advantage, had failed to repel the enemy.

The battle was now in a stalemate, but judging from the actual fighting, this stalemate could not last. Trellemoni knew well that his warriors had inferior equipment and were fewer in number. Earlier, he had nearly pulled troops to reinforce the left wing just to keep the length of his line roughly equal to the enemy's, preventing a flank attack. But when geographical advantage and warrior bravery were insufficient to stop and drive back the enemy, a stalemate only favored the opponent. Now, the only good news was that the cavalry had routed the enemy on the far left.

Trellemoni hoped that after swiftly dispersing the routed enemy, they could assist the left-wing forces in defeating the enemy in front of them, thereby securing victory in the battle.

Just then, Trellemoni saw from a distance his scout cavalry reach the foot of the hill, dismount, and hurry up the slope. A sense of unease washed over him.

"Great King, over a thousand enemies have reinforced the left wing. Our cavalry are... are locked in a hard fight!"

In truth, calling it a 'hard fight' was euphemistic. In fact, the mixed Messapian-Peucetian cavalry had charged down from the summit, attacking from front and rear, and routed the Heraclea-Metapontum allied forces. But while pursuing the fleeing soldiers, the narrow mountain path became clogged with friend and foe intermingled. The cavalry's speed advantage was completely lost. The Greek soldiers, however, had lost their courage and merely fled without resistance. But when Izam's battalion bypassed the path and surrounded them from the hillsides on both sides, disaster struck the Messapian-Peucetian cavalry.

Riding on unsaddled horses, fighting at a standstill in that cramped space, the riders could not exert their full strength against the Daonians. Yet withdrawing from the congested road immediately was nearly impossible. Under the protection of their leather shields, the soldiers of the mountain reconnaissance battalion used their short swords not only to stab at men but also to wound horses. The fleeing Greek soldiers, bolstered by this aid, gradually regained their morale and joined the fight... The Messapian-Peucetian cavalry had trapped themselves in a death knell; their doom was not far off.

"What?! How can the Greeks still have troops not yet committed?!" Trellemoni stared hard at the scout. In this era, city-states did not have the habit of holding reserves; all forces were thrown into battle at once. That was why Trellemoni had dared to risk using cavalry in terrain clearly unfavorable for them. Now, his greatest hope for victory had been snuffed out.

He stepped forward a few paces and gazed at the opposite summit. Dimly visible was the towering, gleaming golden banner. He knew the enemy commander was there.

"The military genius who shook southern Italy..." Trellemoni muttered, his spirits low.

"Great King, what should we do now?" Purlo, seeing Trellemoni in a daze, quickly asked.

What to do? Retreat? At this moment, with the two armies locked in combat, a retreat would not be easy. It would only increase Peucetian casualties. I underestimated the Daonians! This newly emerged alliance army is very strong in combat. In the future, if possible, avoid fighting them... A hint of fear even welled up in Trellemoni's heart. He regretted having acted on impulse, rather than choosing to ambush the Tarentines and leaving the task of intercepting Daonian reinforcements to the Messapians...

"...Wait." After a long pause, Trellemoni uttered a single word.

Purlo was taken aback, but soon understood that Trellemoni meant to wait for the Messapians to finish off the Tarentines and come to reinforce as quickly as possible. That was placing hope in others—completely unlike Trellemoni's usual approach!

Purlo worried silently: What if the Messapians come too late!