Volume 6: The Meeting of Two Heroes, Chapter 95: The Battle of the Ramato River (Part 4)

Ephialtes quickly withdrew his short sword and hid his body behind the long shield, dodging the spear thrusts and short sword slashes from the enemy front and rear ranks. At the same time, his teammate on the right, seizing the moment when the enemy fell, pressed forward to stand shoulder to shoulder with him, fighting side by side while further shattering the shield wall of the enemy’s front line.

In that blink of an eye, Ephialtes had wounded two men.

In close-quarters combat, the combination of the Daonian Army Corps infantry's long shield and short sword proved far more dangerous than the Syracusan heavy infantry’s round shield and short sword. After all, the Greek short sword had a slight curve, making it better suited for slashing than thrusting, and the round shield offered less comprehensive body protection than the long shield. The Syracusans had to stay extremely focused, because the sharp blade would occasionally stab through the gaps between shields, and a moment’s carelessness could lead to injury.

…

On the left wing of the allied forces, the Croton citizen soldiers, famed throughout Greece for wrestling and boxing, continued to unleash their狂暴 strength.

Although Phoebidas had thickened the Syracusan right wing’s formation, he could not increase the number of soldiers under his command. Thus, under pressure from the Crotonians, the Syracusan right wing was slowly retreating as a whole, causing the formation’s arc to grow more and more curved.

Yet Phoebidas, following Spartan tradition, stood in the front rank of the phalanx fighting the enemy. Even though he sensed something was amiss, he could not break formation to make adjustments and change the situation on the battlefield. He could only hope that the mercenary cavalry would faithfully execute the pre-battle plan. In fact, the Syracusan mercenary cavalry had already begun to act.

Faced with such a thrilling battle, the more warlike Numidian and Celtic cavalry were already eager to join the fray.

Achilita let out a whistle, and about two thousand Numidian cavalry followed him as they spurred their horses forward.

As they galloped, they gradually formed a long, thin column, sweeping quickly past the outer flank of the allied cavalry. They let out strange war cries and hurled javelins at the allied cavalry.

The allied light infantry immediately shot arrows at the enemy cavalry.

Because the Numidian cavalry charged forward in a single-file oblique line, their formation loose and moving fast, not many fell from their horses struck by arrows. Meanwhile, quite a few allied cavalrymen were hit by the javelins.

The allied cavalry began to grow restless. Sobecus repeatedly called for them to stay calm.

When Achilita led the Numidian cavalry in a wide circle, turning back out of the dust and smoke for another round of javelin throwing, many allied cavalrymen could no longer hold back and charged straight forward.

Once they took the lead, the other cavalry also rushed forward.

Sobecus could not stop them at all. Although he was the temporary commander of the allied cavalry, the Daonian cavalry did not make up the majority of the entire allied cavalry—there were only five hundred of them. Moreover, in the minds of the Greeks, cavalry was a privilege of the nobility, a stage for displaying personal bravery. Their organization had always been loose, so why would they obey Sobecus’s commands?

Soon Sobecus found that the only ones still standing in place were the Daonian cavalry and the nearly four thousand allied light infantry.

When Achilita saw the allied cavalry charging forward, a smile appeared on his face.

He skillfully handled the reins, turning his charging horse sharply to gallop diagonally forward, then veering east and accelerating to retreat. Because he was at the head of the column, the Numidian cavalry behind could clearly see his movements and immediately followed suit. The entire Numidian cavalry turned and fled east.

The allied cavalry thought the enemy was routing and urged their horses to give chase.

Sobecus fell into a dilemma: should he pursue or stay behind?

A few hundred meters away, through the dust and mist, there seemed to be enemy cavalry still observing. But Sobecus, as the allied cavalry commander, felt that if he did not act together with the cavalry of other city-states, it would disgrace the magnanimity of Daonia as the hegemon of Southern Italy and cast suspicion that he had idly watched the allied cavalry fail without coming to their rescue.

Sobecus thought it over and over again, then painfully made his decision. First, he gave instructions to the light infantry commander, telling him to keep an eye on the remaining enemy cavalry opposite. Then he led the five hundred Daonian cavalry in the direction the allied cavalry had pursued.

Not long after the Daonian cavalry left, the allied light infantry heard the thunder of hooves, accompanied by a terrifying roar, as if thousands of drumsticks were pounding a great drum. The entire ground trembled.

“Release arrows! Release arrows!!…” The allied light infantry commander, his soul nearly fleeing his body, shouted anxiously.

The light infantry had never seen cavalry charge at them from the dust and mist at such high speed, in such dense, broad frontage, recklessly and over such uneven ground. That pursuit of extreme speed and disregard for life and death frightened them so much that their hands and feet went weak. They hastily shot their arrows and then turned to flee.

The Celtic cavalry, active in the Po River valley of northern Italy, cut like a sharp broadsword straight into the loose ranks of the allied light infantry.

A cacophony of horse whinnies and human shouts arose. Many Celts fell from their abruptly halted horses, while the allied light infantry were either impaled by lances or sent flying by the charging horses. Most scattered in all directions to escape.

The bloodthirsty Celts did not let them off easily. They spurred their horses in pursuit, stabbing down the fleeing enemies one by one, then dismounted. Following Celtic battle custom, they cut off the heads of the stabbed soldiers and hung them on their horses…

Sobecus never imagined that the four thousand allied light infantry he had placed such high hopes on would be routed so quickly by only eight hundred Celtic cavalry. But at that moment, he had no mind to consider the fate of those light infantry left behind.

Philistos had originally chosen this battleground precisely to limit the effectiveness of the Syracusan cavalry. Now, due to the rash advance of the allied cavalry, the terrain had instead become their shackles. Slower speed and some falling from horses were not the biggest problems. The most dangerous thing was that the Numidian cavalry handled their horses far more nimbly on this terrain. They even toyed with the allied cavalry like children, deliberately riding over uneven, pitted ground, and occasionally turning back to hurl javelins at their pursuers.

Teammates hit and falling from their horses at intervals thinned out the allied cavalry’s pursuit formation and began to make them hesitant to press forward.

But when the allied cavalry slowed their pursuit, the Numidian cavalry actively closed in.

Meanwhile, Sobecus, hurrying from behind with a cooler head, noticed dust rising on both flanks of the chaotic allied cavalry pursuit formation. A sense of tension washed over him: the enemy was trying to encircle the allied cavalry!

“Have them retreat! Quickly, have them retreat!!” Sobecus immediately urged the messengers beside him.

Before the messengers could speed forward, the allied cavalry had already begun to retreat in panic.

They finally realized that, compared to these Syracusan mercenary cavalry, their own horsemanship was far inferior. If they continued the chase, they risked total annihilation.

But how could the Numidians let prey that had nearly fallen into the trap escape so easily? Even though the net had not yet been fully closed, Achilita still sounded the war horn.

The Numidian cavalry—with disheveled hair, wearing only simple cloth robes, their horses’ backs so smooth they lacked even a saddle—immediately outran the allied cavalry, converging from three directions simultaneously to encircle them.

The allied cavalry fled back in panic like birds caught in a net. Some, too terrified, fell directly from their horses and were trampled into pulp by the running steeds.

This time, the Daonian cavalry ended up at the very front of the entire retreat and pursuit column.

When Sobecus led them back to their original position, hoping that the four thousand allied light infantry left there could block the enemy’s pursuit, the sight that met their eyes shocked the Daonian cavalry: the allied light infantry, once arrayed in a wedge formation, was no more. Only corpses of men and horses lay everywhere, along with moaning wounded. Some bare-chested natives (the Celts) were rummaging through the piles of bodies, occasionally stabbing a living allied wounded soldier and even cutting off their heads…

Seeing such a gruesome scene, even the battle-hardened Daonian cavalry felt a chill in their hearts.

When the Celts saw cavalry approaching, they quickly mounted their horses, ready to intercept.

In such a critical moment, Sobecus had no time to think too much.

“Head north! Head north!…” Sobecus waved his spear and pointed forward. His only thought was to lure these terrifying barbarian cavalry away, to prevent them from causing trouble for the entire battle.

Sobecus took the lead, and the Daonian cavalry, leading the panicked allied cavalry, retreated toward the Corace River.

The upper reaches of the Corace River were neither wide nor deep. But as Sobecus urged his horse down the sloping riverbank, his mount’s front hoof suddenly slipped. Exhausted, he lacked the strength to grip the horse’s neck and was thrown to the ground by the startled animal.

“Bam!” Sobecus hit the ground hard. He immediately felt a sharp pain in his leg, so intense it nearly made him faint. Already advanced in years, he thought to himself in alarm: Damn, my leg is broken!

He pushed himself up with his hands, trying to stand, but it was futile, and the pain only intensified.

“Battalion commander! Battalion commander!…” The Daonian cavalry, seeing Sobecus fall, rushed toward him anxiously.

This change of direction immediately blocked the advance of the cavalry behind. The Daonian cavalry and the allied cavalry became tangled and crowded together on the riverbank, nearly halting the retreat of that entire area. Men shouted, horses neighed, and chaos reigned, while the enemy was rapidly closing in…

Sobecus, enduring the intense pain, shouted: “Don’t worry about me! Go! Go!! Don’t let the military banner… fall into enemy hands! That’s an order!!”

As he shouted, he sat on the ground and solemnly placed his right fist over his left chest.

Most of the Daonian cavalry, tears streaming from their eyes, returned the military salute, then turned their horses and charged into the Corace River.

Still, a small number of cavalry insisted on rushing toward him. But just then, the Numidian cavalry’s javelins came flying in. The first few cavalrymen immediately tumbled from their horses.