Volume 6: The Meeting of Two Heroes, Chapter 81: The Battle of Poseidonia (Part 2)

Because the Samnites attacking from the north were the most numerous, Alexis had concentrated the ballistae and most of the light infantry on that side.

When Torek temporarily withdrew his forces, the seven thousand Caudini warriors on the south side, under Quintuk’s command, had already begun scaling the earthen wall.

The First and Second Battalions were responsible for defending this side. Even the battle-hungry Lizaru, seeing the dense, surging mass of men below the wall and in the ditch, felt his scalp crawl.

“Don’t panic! Wait until you see them clearly before stabbing! No matter how many enemies there are, they can’t get up!…” Litoru walked back and forth behind the soldiers, shield and spear in hand, observing the enemy situation while shouting encouragement.

“Watch out, battalion commander!” The guards behind him suddenly cried out in alarm.

Out of the corner of his eye, Lizaru caught a dark figure ignoring the soldiers’ stabs, leaping down from the top of a long ladder and charging straight at him.

It happened so fast he had no time to thrust his spear. Instead, he quickly dropped his shield and spear, barely had time to draw his short sword from his belt, and was tackled to the ground.

Pinned beneath the enemy, limbs entangled, in that cramped space he struggled to push his short sword forward but hit something hard and couldn’t drive it into the man’s chest.

Then the dark figure’s powerful hands pressed down hard on his eyes. Lizaru felt his eyes ache and swell. In that life-or-death moment, he didn’t panic. He flipped his right wrist, pressing the short sword tight against that hard object, and thrust upward with all his strength.

The dark figure let out a muffled groan and fell backward as the short sword pierced through his jaw.

Lizaru shoved him off and scrambled to his feet.

The soldiers who had rushed over impaled the struggling enemy with their spears.

Lizaru shook his slightly dizzy head, rubbed his sore eyes, squinted, and saw: the man wore a silver-white breastplate and silver-white greaves on his legs.

As far as Lizaru knew, Samnite warriors came in roughly four types: light infantry armed with javelins or spears, without any armor; infantry carrying only a long spear, a long shield, javelins, a helmet, but no body armor; medium infantry with a long shield, long spear, helmet, and a yellow-bronze cuirass; and heavy infantry with a crested helmet adorned with colorful feathers, silver armor, and greaves. This last type was not common among the Samnites and held a high status within their tribes.

Lizaru studied the dead man closely, bent down to pull out his short sword, and shook it vigorously to fling off the blood. Thinking back on what had just happened, he felt a chill: if he’d still been wearing his old gear and using that curved kopis—a sword better for slashing—he’d have had a hard time in that desperate melee, swinging it up to cut the enemy’s neck, and his own eyes would have been gouged out.

Lizaru decided to keep his sword in his right hand and his shield in his left, and stood where he was, looking forward.

By now, most of the soldiers on the wall had stopped thrusting downward, because enemies were constantly climbing over the top, forcing them to raise their long shields and shove outward to deflect the spear points, while knocking the enemy back into the ditch. Once an enemy lost his balance, spears and short swords would stab through the gaps in the shields.

Behind the soldiers locked in mortal combat was a second line, ready to replace them at any moment, and also tasked with surrounding and killing any enemies who broke through…

…

For years, the Samnites had only raided the lands of Campania, rarely assaulting fortified cities. They lacked experience in siege warfare, so Torek, who had never commanded so many warriors, had been full of ambition to annihilate the completely surrounded camp. He never expected that this tiny camp would give his army such a setback—just that single wall of fire had cost several hundred Pentri warriors their lives. Resentment and anger festered in his heart. After pulling back to reorganize his assault force and waiting for the flames to weaken, he sounded the war horn again.

The Samnite warriors charged forward with vengeance in their hearts, while the light infantry, stripped to the waist, followed behind. They had taken off their short tunics, wrapped large handfuls of earth in them, and carried javelins in one hand and the earth bundles in the other, ready to rescue any tribesmen who caught fire.

When the Samnites attacking the northern side of the camp, enduring a constant barrage of stones, arrows, and javelins, jumped back into the ditch, set up their long ladders, and climbed up over the bodies of their fallen comrades, the Daonian soldiers on the defensive never again threw down oil jars.

Torek, who was under the protection of his guards and urgently urging his men forward, nearly tripped over the earth bundles that the light infantry had placed in front of the ditch. A flash of inspiration struck him, and he shouted: “Throw the earth bundles into the ditch! Quick, throw the earth bundles into the ditch!…”

Led by their great chief, the light infantry, who had been hurling javelins into the camp, braved the rain of arrows and quickly threw bundle after bundle into the ditch… Soon they had filled in several pathways across the ditch. Seeing this, the Samnites grew even more excited and kept adding more bundles, trying to build them up to the same height as the wall.

The Daonian soldiers constantly stabbed at the bundles with their spears, trying to thwart the enemy’s plan.

Samnite warriors poured in a steady stream over the makeshift “ramps” of earth bundles, attempting to seize the wall top.

Shields clashed against shields, spears met spears, and fierce hand-to-hand combat erupted.

“Legion Commander! General Latignes (the Elean commanding general) is asking for reinforcements!” The adjutant rushed to the northern side of the camp and reported to Alexis, who was anxiously watching the battle situation.

“They can’t hold out that quickly?” Alexis frowned. He had assigned the Elean forces and half a heavy infantry battalion—about two thousand men—to defend the southern side of the camp. The Samnites coming out of Poseidonia shouldn’t be too numerous, so their defense shouldn’t be too strained.

“The Eleans don’t understand Samnite tactics. Many of them have been hit by javelins, and they seem… intimidated by the Samnites’ momentum!” the adjutant explained.

“Allied troops are really…” Alexis cut himself off, swallowing back the words “unreliable.” This wasn’t the time to say anything that would break unity.

“Detach four hundred men from the light-armored infantry battalion to assist the southern camp!” The Daonian Military Code emphasized in its operational principles that unit commanders, when possible, should retain a reserve for emergencies. Alexis had therefore kept the light-armored infantry battalion as his reserve, and now it was time to use them.

No sooner had he spoken than a loud crash came from the front, along with shouts of alarm: “The wall has collapsed!!!…”

Alexis was horrified. He saw: that section of the northern wall where it met the enemy’s earthen-bundle ramp had collapsed under the weight of the fierce fighting and trampling by both sides’ soldiers. A cloud of dust rose…

When the dust cleared, a gap roughly four men wide was exposed in the earthen wall. Samnites were pouring through the gap, and the soldiers were desperately trying to block them…

The battle had reached its most critical moment!

“Edet! Pull out one company to reinforce the south! All other light-armored infantry companies—immediately push the enemy back!” Alexis pointed at the fiercely contested area ahead and gave the order sternly to the eager light-armored infantry battalion commander.

“Brothers, it’s finally our turn!” Edet turned and shouted excitedly to his men.

“HOOAH!!!” The spirited light-armored infantry roared in unison. The shout slightly eased the tension in Alexis’s heart.

He said solemnly to his adjutant: “Take two hundred light-armored infantry and go reinforce the south immediately! I have no reserve left, so no matter what, you must hold the southern wall! If Latignes doesn’t know how to command, then you take command!”

“Understood, Legion Commander!” The adjutant saluted gravely, turned, and left.

Now Alexis began to anxiously await Davos’s reinforcements to arrive soon…

In fact, on a small hill a mile east of the Daonian Third Army Corps camp, Davos, Tolmides, and a group of guards were surveying the battlefield: nearly thirty thousand Samnites were pressing the small camp from all four sides—east, west, south, and north. The tiny camp was like a battered boat, in constant danger of being swallowed by the surging waves…

Tolmides couldn’t help but remark: “The Third Corps is fighting tenaciously, able to hold out for so long!”

“Yes, it hasn’t been easy!” Davos nodded approvingly, then emphasized: “But they are not fighting alone! Have all units reached their designated positions?”

“Yes, Supreme Commander!” Herald Tolmides saluted and reported excitedly: “The First Army Corps has reached about a mile and a half northeast of the camp. The Second Army Corps has reached about a mile southeast of the camp. Laedes’ cavalry has blocked the road leading north to the mountains. Izam’s scout battalion and the army from Laüs are heading toward Poseidonia, preparing to cut off the enemy’s retreat back to the city!…”

In fact, standing on this small hill, one could roughly see the movements of each unit. They didn’t blow bronze trumpets or shout; instead, they silently and rapidly stretched their lines laterally to surround the enemy on the periphery of the camp, while continuously advancing toward the camp…

“Since everything is arranged, we just quietly await the news of victory.” Davos spoke casually, then sat down leisurely on a rock to watch the battle.

The Samnites wounded in the attack, unwilling to become burdens to their tribesmen or risk being trampled under the surging tide of their own advancing men, did their utmost to retreat to the rear. But those who fortunate enough to make it back discovered their luck had run out, because behind them, countless soldiers in black helmets and black armor had suddenly appeared, advancing rapidly toward them like an boundless black tide roaring in.