Volume 6: The Meeting of Two Heroes, Chapter 85: A Camp Uproar

“They all acknowledge the strength of the Daonian Army Corps, but precisely because we are strong, they want us to hold the center and connect the two flanks, so that they can launch their attacks with confidence.” Philistos looked at the two men and said candidly, “I held the same view as you earlier, but… I’m also worried that the center and the other flank, formed by the three city-state armies of Trina, Scylletium, and Croton—which are not under a unified command—might be defeated before we can break through the enemy in front of us… If they are beaten, the whole situation could devolve into a melee, and the Syracusan cavalry would then have a chance to exploit that… On the other hand, if we hold the center, we can control the pace of our attacks and defenses, spot vulnerabilities on the flanks at any time, and provide timely reinforcements…”

“That would turn it into a contest of defense and attrition between us and the Syracusans—the battle could drag on for a very long time!” Epithenis, a former peltast, disliked this kind of fighting.

“Defense and endurance—isn’t that exactly what our Corps’ heavy infantry excels at!” Drakos, on the other hand, seemed full of confidence. “Even if we deploy the Corps in the center, I believe we can still punch through the enemy’s center!”

“Since you’ve already worked out a battle plan in the meeting, why bother asking for our opinions! Just give us orders and let us carry them out!” Epithenis’s words carried resentment.

“That was only a rough plan discussed preliminarily.” Philistos said honestly and with emotion, “I need your experience and wisdom to refine this battle plan and give us more chances to win. This is for Daonia!”

Epithenis and Drax exchanged a glance, then moved closer to Philistos…

…

After two days of effort, the Samnite—Hirpini people had expanded their camp, tightly encircling the city of Potentia, except for the south side, where the Basento River flowed. The Hirpini Great Chief Veroni merely had a few simple watchtowers built on the opposite bank to observe movements inside the city. With the pontoon bridge already burned, he was not worried that the Potentians would cross the river and flee—if they abandoned their strong citadel and chose to escape across the river, that would actually be what he hoped for.

Yet Veroni, who fantasized that the river could prevent the Potentians from escaping, did not know that someone was swimming across it in the dead of night…

Half an hour later, the leader responsible for guarding the city, Valer, came to the Great Chief’s mansion.

Puamot was hardly able to sleep soundly. Upon hearing that Valer sought an audience, he thought the Potentians had made some major move outside the city. He immediately received Valer in the hall and listened as the leader reported excitedly: “A messenger from Daonia requests an audience!”

“Printors, Company Commander of the Daonian Mountain Reconnaissance Battalion, pays respects to Great Chief Puamot!” When the dripping-wet Printors saluted Puamot, the Great Chief asked anxiously, “Lord Davos is in Poseidonia… in Poseidonia… how… how is it going?!”

“This morning, Lord Davos led the First, Second, and Third Army Corps to annihilate the Samnite reinforcements and the garrison!” Printors replied curtly.

“Excellent! This is truly excellent!!” Puamot could hardly contain his excitement and asked eagerly, “Can Lord Davos march his army to Potentia tomorrow?”

Printors did not answer directly. Instead, he took a waterproof leather tube from around his neck, pulled out a scroll, and said, “This is a letter Lord Davos instructed me to deliver to you, Great Chief.”

Puamot quickly took it, unrolled it, and read it. His expression turned grave. “Hurry, summon Pollet!”

Pollet, who had been cooped up in the rear courtyard all day and feeling restless, learned the news of the Daonian army’s great victory over the Samnites at Poseidonia. After reading Davos’s secret letter, his reaction was different from Puamot’s— he was already eager for action. “Lord Davos wants us to cooperate with your Mountain Scout Unit tonight to disrupt the enemy camp, in preparation for the arrival of the main army tomorrow!”

Printors, however, remained calm, his eyes gleaming. “Before coming up the hill, I took a special look at the Samnite camp. The constant influx of routed soldiers has thrown the camp into considerable chaos, and half of my brothers have slipped inside disguised as stragglers… Now, I have an even better idea!”

The Hirpini had prepared everything needed for the siege, waiting only for the relief force sent to Poseidonia to return so they could cleanly devour the fish trapped in the net that was Potentia.

That night, Veroni went to sleep early and peacefully.

“Father! Father!!…” Gaelni suddenly burst into the tent, waking him.

“What’s wrong?” Veroni opened his bleary eyes and looked dazedly at his son standing before him. Then he heard him say in panic: “Something terrible has happened! The reinforcements we sent to Poseidonia have been… annihilated by the Daonians!!”

“What?!” Veroni’s drowsiness was completely shocked away. “How is that possible?! We sent over twenty thousand Pentri and Caudini warriors, and Torek and Quintuk are both experienced commanders!… Unless… unless…” He thought of a possibility, and his breathing became rapid.

“Daonian reinforcements from Thurii had already arrived at Poseidonia long ago, but they quietly lay in ambush…” Gaelni poured out to his father everything he had heard from the warriors who had escaped.

After listening to his son’s account, Veroni felt his hands and feet turn cold. He flopped back onto his bed, his mind a tangled mess.

After a moment, he suddenly raised his head and asked, “Did Torek and Quintuk escape?”

“I heard that Great Chief Torek was killed in battle; there’s no news of Quintuk…” Gaelni said dejectedly.

A wave of grief rose in Veroni’s heart, but this was not the time for sorrow. He immediately asked, “How many Pentri and Caudini warriors made it back?”

“How could we count them in the darkness? Warriors keep fleeing into the camp from several directions…” Gaelni finished, then asked anxiously, “Father, what do we do now?!”

The bad news came too suddenly; Veroni’s mind was a whirl and he couldn’t come up with any plan in that short time. Just as he was pondering with his head lowered, noise arose outside the tent, growing louder and clearer in the night.

“Our reinforcements sent to Poseidonia have been defeated!”

“Daonia’s reinforcements have arrived, a full fifty or sixty thousand men—we’re going to be surrounded!”

“Flee quickly, brothers of the Hirpini!”

“Not good!” Veroni jumped up in alarm and hurried out of the tent: What should have been a quiet night camp was now in an uproar. Soldiers, confused and half-naked, crawled out of their tents one after another, began shouting in panic along with others, and wandered aimlessly…

Veroni saw shadows of people everywhere in the camp… The Samnites had organized such a huge army for the first time, and this was their first time sustaining such a long war (counting from the time they began gathering forces). Therefore, Veroni had never experienced such a large-scale chaos before, and of course did not know what “camp panic” meant, but he instinctively sensed danger. He sternly scolded Gaelni: “When those routed soldiers fled back, you should have isolated them to avoid affecting our warriors’ morale! Now go back to your own tribe immediately, maintain order there, and keep the warriors inside their tents—no one is to come out!”

Gaelni hurried off.

Veroni urgently called his personal guards, had them light torches, and sent them to notify Lesguk, Lucini, and the other leaders, ordering them to do their utmost to restrain their men.

Only then did Veroni realize that the camp had not been well-planned when it was built. The distances between tribes were large, the tents were too densely and chaotically pitched, and the pathways between them were narrow and winding. It was fine during the day, but in the panic of night, it easily caused congestion…

He could only stay outside his tent, surrounded by several hundred personal guards, hoping that the tribal leaders would be able to exert control. He waited for the commotion in the camp to subside a little before sending his guards into the camp to restore order. He suspected that enemies had infiltrated the camp and were taking advantage of the chaos.

Meanwhile, outside the noisy Samnite camp, at the foot of the hill where the city of Potentia stood, Pollet was leading a thousand warriors, lying quietly in ambush…

“Can we attack yet?” Pollet stared at the Samnite camp so close at hand, itching with impatience, and whispered urgently to Printors beside him.

Printors, the company commander of the Mountain Reconnaissance Battalion, the man who had once cleverly taken Asperustum, was exceptionally calm. He said in a low voice, “Wait a little longer.”

“Wait? For what?!” If it weren’t for the fact that the speaker was a Daonian officer carrying Davos’s secret orders, Pollet would have acted already.

But Printors seemed not to notice the urgency and irritation in Pollet’s voice. He kept his eyes fixed on the camp ahead and said softly, “Wait for the fire to rise.”

Veroni stood inside his tent and saw that in the pitch-black camp, scattered torches had begun to light up. It seemed the tribal leaders had started to take action.

But he observed for a while and noticed that the situation was not being effectively contained.

At night, the strong mountain wind howled, not only failing to drown out the camp’s noise but also chilling his body. When he thought about going back inside to put on his wolf-fur robe, an even louder uproar erupted in the camp: “Fire! Fire!!…”

Fire! Veroni’s heart clenched. He strained his eyes to look ahead; it was still dark in front of him, but his heart sank. He turned around: far behind the tent, a patch of fire was spreading—that was exactly where the Samnites stored their grain and supplies!