Volume 5: The Hegemon of Southern Italy, Chapter 120: Pre-Battle Reconnaissance at the Punate River

Davos had not originally intended to engage the Bruttian alliance in a decisive battle at this moment, which is why he chose to encamp here. At the same time, he believed that after the Bruttian alliance had failed in their assault on the town two days earlier, they would be more cautious. The possibility of abandoning their advantageous terrain and marching several dozen miles to challenge him seemed unlikely—yet he had not expected the enemy to actually come. Since they had come, then let it be a battle!

The forces on both sides were roughly equal. Although half of the Daonian soldiers might be fatigued from building the camp, that was no reason to avoid battle. The enemy had come out in full force, and Davos could not have wished for more. He abruptly stood up and asked, "How is the camp construction going?"

"The ditch has been dug, and we are building the earth rampart," Tolmides answered, then asked, "Do you want the soldiers to withdraw behind the ditch?"

Davos waved his hand in refusal. The Daonian Army Corps always prioritized offense. A ditch might make it harder for the enemy to attack, but it also limited their own offensive capability and dampened the soldiers' morale. He would not do it unless it was a special situation.

"Sound the bugle to assemble the troops. Then summon the two legion commanders, Capus and Drakos, as well as the cavalry battalion commander, Laedes... oh, and also call Epithenis and Tsipet," Davos ordered.

"Yes," Tolmides quickly went to deliver the orders.

"Are we going to fight a decisive battle with the Bruttians here?" Triphyas asked nervously.

"Yes. It seems the day to end the war with the Bruttians is coming early!" Davos smiled confidently. His smile infected Triphyas, who relaxed and gave a Greek military salute. "Then allow me to go and muster my soldiers first."

...

Piallen led the grand army toward the Punat River. As they crested a high slope, a wide, flat grassland spread out below. On that grassland, countless Greeks were assembling and forming ranks. From above, it looked like a disturbed anthill—a chaotic mess—which made him somewhat dismissive.

"Halt the advance! Prepare to form ranks!" he immediately ordered.

Although the Greek formation had not yet taken any shape, standing on the high slope and looking down gave him a rough impression: the Daonians' right flank was at the confluence of the Punat and Crati Rivers; to the left, the flat grassland had no terrain obstacles; behind them were the pits they had dug up in disarray.

After observing for a while, he made a decision. Since the side near the river made crossing difficult and limited room for attack and maneuver, he placed the five thousand tribal warriors forcibly conscripted from various tribes on the left wing. The center was composed of over five thousand warriors from Ambarnia and Vergae. The right wing consisted of twelve thousand warriors from Cosentia.

Clearly, he intended to use his most numerous and strongest Cosentia warriors on the right wing to secure victory.

Piallen's original plan was to take advantage of the enemy's disorganization by quickly forming ranks and attacking.

But with over twenty thousand troops from different tribes, forming ranks in a short time required a complete command system, long-term military training, and highly disciplined soldiers—conditions the Bruttians could not meet. Thus, the entire army began to slowly deploy their formation amid extreme chaos: war horns blaring, war drums pounding, men shouting, horses neighing, pushing and shoving, and noisy confusion.

At first, Piallen was rather leisurely observing the enemy's movements while waiting for his own ranks to form. But after a while, his expression turned sour.

Because the previously chaotic Daonians quickly formed into "small squares," and these countless squares swiftly moved to their fixed positions like building blocks, without interfering with each other. Soon, the Daonian formation had taken a preliminary shape.

It was a formation Piallen had never seen before. There was considerable space between the "small squares," not tightly packed. Viewed from above, it looked like pieces of green-and-white woolen blankets (since the linen cuirasses were white). Although Piallen did not know how effective such strange formations were, the speed of the Daonians' deployment made him uneasy.

He shouted to Petalus beside him, "Go urge Bogam to hurry up!"

What Piallen had initially seen as the chaotic Daonian formation was actually the moment when the soldiers of the First Army Corps were hastily climbing out of the bustling camp, helping each other don armor, and returning to their units. Now, with the formation initially deployed, Davos was also relieved of some tension.

"Commander, our right wing is still organizing and hasn't deployed yet!" Tolmides reported anxiously.

"Don't worry. The right wing includes allied troops and the Army Corps reserve—the soldiers are the most mixed." Davos, mounted on his horse, looked to the left. It was late autumn; it had not rained for over ten days, and the ground was dry. The movement of tens of thousands of soldiers had already stirred up dust so thick that not a trace of the right wing was visible.

Davos spoke quite leisurely, "The fact that Triphyas isn't rushing to form ranks but is first organizing the troops is actually reassuring to me."

He pointed forward. "Look, the Bruttians on the grassy slope aren't moving either—they're probably still forming up. That gives us time to let the soldiers of the First Army Corps rest a bit and regain some strength."

Tolmides looked intently. Ahead, five hundred meters away, the dust haze was equally thick...

"Go notify Laedes," Davos ordered again. "Tell him to dispatch seven or eight cavalry platoons to harass the enemy's left, center, and right wings, delaying their deployment. At the same time, observe their responses and report back to me."

"Yes."

"Wait. Tell Laedes that I said harassment, not a hard fight. If the enemy cavalry chases them, withdraw immediately. Do not let the cavalry suffer losses!" Davos emphasized repeatedly.

"Understood, sir."

"Hey, lads, stick close!"

"Uncle, we can run faster than you even without horses."

"Little brat, you've got an itch, huh? You'll get a proper thrashing when we get back."

"Captain, you should have done that long ago!"

Solikos's cavalry platoon, amidst laughter, had already crossed the entire battlefield and reached the Punat River.

"Halt!" Solikos leveled his spear, and the entire platoon stopped.

"Dismount!"

"Why, Captain?! We haven't even reached the enemy's front lines!" the cavalrymen yelled.

"Obey orders!" Solikos shouted loudly.

Though reluctant, the cavalrymen had to comply under the influence of military discipline, but they shouted in defiance, "Captain, other platoons are already throwing javelins at the enemy. Are you trying to make us deserters?!"

"Shut up! Our platoon was ordered to harass the enemy's far left wing. We've run the longest distance, and the horses are a bit tired. Let them rest for a while to better complete the mission! I'm bringing you out, and I'll bring you back safely!"

"Alright, Captain, we'll listen. But how long do we have to wait?!"

"Until I give the order."

The cavalrymen had no choice but to pat their restless horses, observing the gray battlefield ahead. In the distance, they saw their comrades sometimes charging into the dust and sometimes galloping back... Shouts and screams reached their ears, making them itch to join.

Time passed slowly. Just as they were becoming impatient, "Mount up!" Solikos's shout was like rain after a long drought, lifting their spirits.

Fifty warhorses began to trot, gradually forming a wedge shape as they advanced.

Solikos was at the front. He raised his spear and waved it forward twice. "Speed up!"

Ahead was a thirty-meter-high grassy slope. Though not steep, they had to prevent the horses from slowing down while climbing, lest they be attacked by the enemy.

The horses galloped, hooves flying. The cavalrymen hugged the horses' necks and leaned forward to speed up their ascent.

Solikos was the first to leap onto the grassy slope. Dozens of meters away, the Bruttians were densely packed, extending outward from the Punat River bank—how far, he could not tell. One row, two rows, three rows... he could not count how deep their phalanx was in such a rush.

Solikos felt as if he were standing before the enemy formation like an ant before an elephant. An invisible, immense pressure weighed on his chest, making it hard to breathe. He took a deep breath, drew a short javelin, squeezed his horse's flanks with his thighs, and the horse accelerated again.

The cavalrymen followed closely.

Fifty meters, forty meters, thirty meters... The raised hooves fell on the cracked, dry earth, like drumsticks striking a drumhead, producing a "clop, clop" sound. Combined with the rapid charge of the cavalry platoon, it created a considerable clamor, causing disturbances among the Bruttian ranks that had just formed.

Just as the Bruttian warriors were shoving each other and shouting in alarm, Solikos threw his javelin. Dozens of javelins followed, piercing into the enemy formation. Cries of pain rang out one after another.

The Bruttians became even more chaotic. Some panicked and retreated, while others charged forward in anger...

Solikos swung his spear to the left, leading the cavalry platoon to turn sharply at a distance of over twenty meters from the enemy formation and gallop along the edge of the Bruttian line. Everywhere they passed was like a stone thrown into calm water—the ripples did not subside for some time. At the same time, the enemy's panic and confusion were clearly visible to Solikos. Judging the mission accomplished, he decisively ordered, "Turn left!"

The cavalrymen had just turned back when the Bruttian cavalry arrived, giving chase.

The Daonian light infantry came in time to support, startling several hundred Bruttian cavalry into retreat with their javelins.

Davos skillfully used the cavalry's "fire reconnaissance" to gauge the reactions of the various parts of the Bruttian formation. Through Laedes's reports, he obtained a general understanding of the Bruttians' deployment. From the way they responded to the cavalry harassment, the Bruttian left wing was the weakest, while the strongest was the right wing, which cost the Daonian cavalry over a dozen casualties, killed or wounded. Clearly, the Bruttians' thinking was consistent with Davos's: they placed the weakest troops near the river and the strongest on the outer flank, since this conformed to the principles of military tactics.