Volume 6: The Meeting of Two Heroes, Chapter 92: The Battle of the Ramato River (Part 1)

This area was not particularly flat. The ground was uneven, dotted with small hillocks and thorny thickets everywhere. To the west lay the Lamato River, while to the north was the middle reaches of the Corace River, flowing from northwest to southeast.

It was clear that Philistos had chosen to deploy here with the Syracusan cavalry’s ferocity in mind, using the terrain to limit their effectiveness and maneuverability as much as possible. At the same time, this kind of terrain was undoubtedly more advantageous for the adaptable and agile infantry of the Daonian Army Corps.

Dionysius could certainly see how unfavorable this terrain was for his own side, but he still led his army forward.

More than a hundred thousand men from both sides gathered across this land, covering an area of a few square miles. Dense as mountains, vast as seas, they stirred up clouds of dust and a deafening clamor…

Dionysius squinted, straining to look ahead. Even though the dust and haze blocked his view, the black uniforms of the Daonian Army Corps soldiers stood out conspicuously—and they were directly opposite him.

“The Daonians are in the center!” Dionysius’s heart settled, for he too had placed his elite force of fifteen thousand men in the center. They were mercenaries from Campania and mainland Greece, men who had campaigned with him across Sicily for years. Most had been granted citizenship by him, received allotments of land, and become new citizens of Syracuse. This was the core force most loyal to him and most trustworthy.

“If that’s the case, judging by the Daonians’ past battles, their main attack will be on their left wing!” Phoebidas reminded. “I suggest we station at least twenty thousand soldiers on our right wing to block their assault!”

Dionysius did not answer immediately. He turned his head and looked to his left front.

What he saw through the dust and haze were the shadowy figures of the South Italy Allied forces still forming ranks and arraying themselves. The noise and commotion stretched beyond his line of sight…

A moment later, he gave the order: “Send all Syracusan citizen soldiers to the right wing!”

The messenger acknowledged and galloped east.

Dionysius turned to the Spartan and said in a low voice, “Phoebidas, I appoint you as the commanding general of the right wing. I hope you can lead the troops to hold off the enemy’s attack, buying time for victory. I hope you will accept!”

“It is my honor!” Phoebidas accepted gladly, showing none of the arrogant pride of “I am a Spartan, you have no right to appoint me.” To lead over twenty thousand soldiers in a battle of this scale was a first for Phoebidas, and likely the last. The temptation was too great for him to refuse.

“Also, if you encounter difficulties, you have the authority to command the Numidian and Celtic cavalry stationed on the outer flank of the right wing,” Dionysius added.

Phoebidas felt the trust placed in him. For once, he gave Dionysius a rare military salute.

“Astagoras,” Dionysius called next.

“Here!”

“Take the Sicilian city-state troops together with the Hipponion army to hold the left wing! Remember, I only need you to delay the enemy. Do not be too rash, understand?” Dionysius issued the order in a stern tone to his fierce subordinate.

“Yes, my lord!” Astagoras felt a chill of caution.

…

“Commander, the Trina troops have arrived on the battlefield. Lord Sipros told me to inform you that Trina has sent a total of 8,500 soldiers!” The herald rode up and reported to Philistos.

8,500! Philistos was shocked by the number. That meant only a few hundred soldiers were left to defend Trina itself. During yesterday’s discussion of the battle plan, Trina’s representative had said they could send at most six thousand men. Unexpectedly, today there were an extra 2,500. Then Philistos understood Trina’s intention: they were putting all their strength into this single battle!

Philistos felt greatly encouraged. He called out loudly, “Go tell Lord Arcesias to move part of the Scylletian troops originally assigned to the right wing to the left wing. Make the hammerhead thicker!”

“Yes!” One messenger turned his horse and galloped east.

“Go tell Lord Sipros that the Trina troops will be positioned next to the Daonian Army Corps on the right wing. The far edge of the phalanx must not be too far from the Lamato River, to prevent enemy cavalry from circling around to harass!”

“Yes!” Another messenger acknowledged and galloped west.

Watching the messenger disappear into the dust, Philistos gazed again at the Daonian soldiers ahead. Only by watching these well-trained legionaries skillfully form ranks and array themselves could he feel at ease and drive away his tension and restlessness.

After a moment, he suddenly felt something was amiss and said, “Go immediately to inform Legion Commanders Drakos and Epithenis to slow down the formation of their soldiers. Wait for the allied troops on both sides. Do not reveal our intentions too early!”

“Yes!” Two more messengers rode forward.

“Philistos is too cautious. With the strength of our corps, there’s no need for such tricks. Just sound the attack and charge straight over!” Drakos grumbled upon receiving Philistos’s order.

But he dared not disobey a superior’s command. So he told his adjutant, “Go tell the officers to have the brothers slow down their formation. Don’t get too excited too early. Take it slow. Save all strength and spirit for the moment of the charge.”

“Understood, Legion Commander!”

“Ah, if it weren’t for Lord Philistos’s reminder, I almost forgot that! Adjutant, quickly have the brothers slow down and wait for the Trina men beside us. But honestly, getting them to speed up is easy—slowing down? How many years has it been since we drilled that? Haha…” Epithenis joked as he issued the order.

The adjutant suppressed a laugh and said, “Understood, Legion Commander!”

Across the long lines of both sides, hundreds of messenger cavalry galloped back and forth, relaying orders. Amid the noisy chaos of the ranks, officers at all levels shouted loudly. Two enormous phalanxes were slowly taking shape…

The time it took for over a hundred thousand men to form ranks was considerable. The Syracusans completed their formation a bit faster than the South Italy Allied forces, since most of their troops came from a single city-state and often fought together, unlike the South Italy Alliance, which not only came from multiple city-states but was also fighting together for the first time.

By noon, the great clamor gradually subsided, and the pervasive dust began to settle as the soldiers stood still…

The soldiers at the front of both phalanxes could now clearly see the enemy several hundred meters away. In their eyes, the dense enemy phalanxes stretched endlessly to both sides like solid steel walls…

The early winter sun at noon was not blazing, but when it shone on the soldiers’ gleaming armor and weapons, the blinding light merged into a sheet, impossible to look at directly. Only when their gaze fell on the Daonian phalanx did the distinctive, unified equipment and attire of the Daonian Corps soldiers naturally draw the eyes of the Syracusan troops—and make their hearts shudder, for black always signified ill omen.

A sea breeze blew in from the Squillace Gulf, bringing a bit of coolness to the heavily armored soldiers, drenched in sweat from the recent exertions…

Along the long lines of both sides, military banners of all sizes fluttered in the wind. The largest banner stood behind Dionysius, bearing not only the traditional Syracusan “three-legged” emblem but also Dionysius’s own name embroidered large across its fabric. In comparison, Philistos, the commander of the opposing South Italy Allied forces, was less impressive. Because of the haste of his appointment as commander of two corps, the Ministry of Military Affairs had not had time to make him a specially crafted banner or statue; he had to use the corps banner and simply attach a larger flag.

Philistos did not mind. At that moment, he was watching in surprise as the banner representing Dionysius slowly moved forward from the enemy formation. After a moment, the banner had reached the front of the line, followed closely by a general in gold helmet and gold armor.

Such splendid attire must be Dionysius himself, right? Philistos hesitated, then spurred his horse forward.

The two met in the middle of the battlefield. Dionysius sized up Philistos with a sharp gaze. Philistos met his eyes without flinching.

“You are the commander of the South Italy Allied forces?”

“You are the tyrant of Syracuse, Dionysius?”

“I am Dionysius.”

“I am the commander of the Daonian army and the supreme commander of the South Italy Allied forces, Philistos!” Under Dionysius’s silent stare, Philistos unconsciously raised his voice.

“Philistos, it seems this title of ‘supreme commander’ is not agreed upon by your subordinates,” Dionysius said, turning his head to look at both sides. A mocking smile appeared on his face, for cavalry from both east and west were swiftly riding toward them.

“In the South Italy Alliance, all city-states, great and small, are equal—unlike the Greek city-states of Sicily!” Philistos replied, his face slightly reddening, imitating the debating tone of his colleagues in the Daonian Senate.

Dionysius laughed loudly. “In battle, should not the army obey the commands of one man to ensure unified action? Your magistrate Davos should understand this clearly. Has he not told you?”

Philistos found himself no match for Dionysius in eloquence, so he simply fell silent, staring back coldly.

Dionysius wiped the smile from his face and revealed a sinister expression. “You said one thing right: the Greek city-states on Sicily are ruled by me alone. And after this battle, Magna Graecia will also be ruled by me alone!”

“We’ll find out after we fight!” Philistos replied tersely.