Athene's Prophecy (Gaius Claudius Scaevola Trilogy) (38 page)

In the light of a three-quarter moon these men now advanced carefully on foot towards the baggage camp. The Parthians were keeping a poor watch, most of it directed at the Roman camp, and the auxiliaries reached the baggage camp unobserved. There appeared to be only three guards, and these were close together, and engaged in some sort of conversation. The auxiliaries quietly dispatched the three guards. Then the easily found water containers were punctured and the horses were untethered. The auxiliaries then advanced to the nearest fire, and lit torches. A signal was sent to the few left behind to quietly bring their own horses up.

What fires that could be lit were lit amongst the baggage, then the Parthian fodder was put to the torch and the horses released. As the fires started, the raiders mounted the spare horses brought up from the rear, grabbed torches, rode into the camp and lit whatever further fires they could, then turned and, using the torches, made sure the enemy horses were in full flight.

As the alarm was raised, the cavalry from the oasis attacked. With the Parthians running hither and thither, half asleep, unprepared, for it was common knowledge that Romans did not attack at night, they were easy prey for the cavalry. Many tents were put on fire and up to a hundred Parthians fell to the lances before any organized defence could begin. Then, as the Parthians began to gather arms and form small lines, the Roman cavalry rode around them, slashing with their swords and riding through to attack another group from the rear. Then, when the Parthians finally became organized, the cavalry noisily rode back to their camp. Less obviously, the first small detachment rode quietly and apparently unnoticed back towards the desert.

From Gaius' point of view, the raid was a huge success. The enemy had sustained significant casualties, much of their cavalry had been neutralized, and they were now forced to fight their way to water. Any attempt to send for help should be intercepted by the desert squad.

At dawn, Gaius surveyed the field. The Parthians were gradually assembling into formations. The Roman camp was buzzing. Food was prepared, the soldiers were checking equipment, and although everything seemed disorganized Gaius knew that very little time would pass between the Centurion's command and the forming of battle lines.

The order for battle was set. The archers were divided equally and placed at the centres of the two hillocks, the largest centuries, each with about ninety men, were placed two per hillock, three centuries defended behind the sides of the hillocks, while the cavalry was kept to the rear with the remaining men and auxiliaries, split into three 'centuries', as reserves. The ballistae he had were set up at positions where their huge arrows would tear into forces on the narrow flat ground between the hills should the enemy attempt to come through there. A catapult was mounted on the top of each hillock, where huge piles of suitable rocks were assembled. Signallers were in place. Gaius first rode around each century, ensuring that each Centurion now had a clear idea of how he intended to fight this battle, and what would be required of them then he rode to the top of the right hand hill to survey the scene.

Much of the morning passed while little happened. The Parthians drew up in formation over a mile away, but then did nothing. They stood there, as if challenging the Romans to advance. The sun became hotter and hotter, and the flies became more irritating. Some Parthian insults could be discerned over the distance. Gaius issued his first order. In turn, two thirds of his men could rest in shade specially erected.

A small group of Parthian cavalry rode towards the Romans, suggesting that the Romans surrender, and when there was no favourable response, they began hurling insults. Gaius had anticipated this. The soldiers at the top of the hillocks stood tall, and began pouring water over themselves from large jugs. They had the luxury of being able to cool off; they had the luxury of plenty of water.

Gaius sent the message for the Parthians to lay down their arms and surrender. The Parthians would become Roman prisoners, but at least they would drink. If they surrendered now, or any time before one Roman soldier was killed, he promised to spare their lives.

It was noon when the standoff ended. It was clear to the Parthians that the Romans were quite happy to sit tight, and it was equally clear that water was in short supply. Time did not favour the Parthians. When the Parthians began to assemble what was left of their cavalry, Gaius decided to ride back to the reserves. He realized that where he was placing himself was the weakest part of this deployment. If he wanted to see, he had to stay on top of a hill, but then he also had to hope the Parthians did not try to outflank the other hill. If he wanted to properly control the reserves, he had to be at the rear, with them. He had to hope that his men on the hills would inform him of the enemy's deployment.

The initial attack was a cavalry charge, directed at the gap between the two hillocks. As the earthworks slowed the horses down, the archers and the legionary slings clinically cut riders down. As more of the cavalry charged into the gap, the passage became congested, and at this point the
ballistae
let fly. The huge bolts soared through the air, to crash into the concentration of horsemen. Then as those at the front began to realize that too few of them could emerge from the pass at any given time to force the issue, they turned and tried to retreat. As the leaders were trying to return, the rear was still charging forwards, and the bodies began to pile up in the centre as more and more giant arrows broke bone after bone.

Gradually the situation became clear, and what little was left of the cavalry began a general retreat. Gaius ordered the auxiliaries to go forward, recover what arrows they could, particularly those suitable for the
ballistae,
and also save uninjured horses. As the more badly injured horses were put out of their misery, moans from the remaining Parthians filled the air, and the flies could be seen gathering on the more badly injured. There was nothing that could be done for these men; his own forces needed to be ready to fight, and any impediment to the Parthian's progress had to stay there.

An hour later the Parthian infantry began to advance. The major column was clearly advancing towards the left hillock, with a minor column intent on forcing the issue to the left of that hill. Gaius signalled for one of the centuries defending the right side of the right hillock to advance towards the left hill and join those on the top, then he sent half his cavalry around through the gap on the extreme right.

Before this day, Gaius had no real idea of what war involved. He had had boyhood visions of glory; the reality, he soon found, was that it was a bloody mess. As the left flank of the advancing Parthians reached level with the base of the hillock, all they could see were the Roman archers on the hill to their left, and the remains of the cavalry charge. Horses were still twitching, men were groaning in the heat, men who were in pain, who knew they would die, and had to suffer while they were doing it. The advancing flank halted, unsure of what to do. They could hardly charge over their comrades, but the hillock climb would be congested. As they stood, a hail of arrows descended. The small shields offered some protection, but most men protected their face, and thus left their stomachs exposed. Some shields carried up to three arrows, but many of the men collapsed, groaning, desperately trying to tear the arrow out.

The centre charged the hillock. They were running at the bottom, but by the time they had reached within thirty meters of the top, their charge had reduced to a walk. It was then the horn blew, and about a hundred and fifty pilii were launched. As the Parthians stared at this wall of javelins, and took what protection they could, the second volley was launched. Then, as the Parthians hid behind what cover their shields would give, the heavy crunching of Roman boots could be heard. The pilii tore into bodies, or pinned into shields where they bent, leaving a cumbersome and heavy object stuck at an awkward angle. A shield with such a pilum in it was almost useless, as it was impossible to wield quickly as the weight of the javelin had to be moved, and unless the shield was held high, the far end of the pilum would catch in the ground.

Then, as the second volley had landed, and those Parthians who were uninjured regained their feet, a wall of locked shields thrust into them. The Roman soldiers leaned forward on their shields, the weight of shield and man causing the Parthians to slip backwards, with some tripping and falling down the hill. As they slipped, the stabbing gladii tore into their stomachs, and as the wounded fell their skulls were trampled by the hob-nailed caligae as line after line of stabbing Romans walked over them. Then, as those in front began to fall back, they fell into their own men pushing forward. Although having overwhelming numerical superiority, the close fighting cancelled that advantage, and the sheer weight of men pouring downhill meant that the Parthians could not find the room they needed. Occasionally a wounded Parthian managed to fall with no pressure behind, which invariably lead to Roman soldiers falling forward, and becoming exposed, now to be cut down from the side. Parthian spears also entered between shields, killing or wounding Romans. The cries of pain of the wounded from both sides rose, and cries of pain began coming from the rear of the Parthian troops where the steady rain of
ballistae
bolts were taking their toll. Still the Parthians from the rear tried to advance, still the wounded piled up on the side of the hillock. The sun beat hotter, the flies buzzed more densely, the groans became more desperate. The charge began to falter.

On the Parthian right flank, the Parthians had more room to swing, and with their lighter armour, they were more mobile. Although Gaius had committed more troops here, he could not cover the entire gap. Suddenly, Gaius realized his mistake. The century that he had sent to the top of the hill should have joined those at the bottom. He ordered the horn to signal the left flank of his line there to wheel back.

As the Roman line wheeled, the Parthians there felt that victory was at hand. They attacked with renewed vigour, and they began to make some inroads. Yet when a Roman fell back wounded, his place was immediately taken from a soldier standing behind, and the line remained unbroken.

Gaius felt so helpless as he watched the line fall back and up-hill. He felt he should do something, but there was nothing he could do, other than to commit the last of his
ballistae
to firing into the midst of these Parthians. He still had reserves, but it was still far from clear where these should be deployed. The reserves were the last throw of the dice, and he wanted to send those to the point that would ensure victory, but the location of that point was yet to be determined.

The line began to retreat up the hill, and the Parthians advanced, only to find this was not a retreat. Gaius now ordered the next horn signal, and the Roman line, now two thirds of the way up the hill, stopped falling back. As the retreating line halted, and began steadier thrusting, the Parthians faltered, as if those at the front were unsure of what to do. They looked to their right, and the expected Parthian cavalry was nowhere to be seen, while from their left the sounds were those of Parthian agony, not the whoops of victory. They could not see what was happening elsewhere, but they could imagine. More than one of them began looking over their shoulders.

It was at that moment that Gaius realized victory was at hand. The enemy still grossly outnumbered his forces, they were better placed than they had ever been to force victory, but they had lost the initiative and they had lost their confidence. Now was the time to send a signal to the centuries on top of the right hill, which so far had been reduced to being spectators and to deploy his cavalry.

For a while the situation seemed static. The fresh centuries marched down the hill, while the cavalry that had flanked to the right were now stationary and level with the front of the right hillock. A signal was exchanged with the infantry, and the cavalry began its charge, to strike at the rear of the Parthians. The noise, and the unexpected activity from the rear caused a pause in the Parthian advance, then a wave of uncertainty passed over them. In a final attempt to gain the initiative, the leader of the Parthians ordered his right flank to advance, in one final attempt to get behind the hillock. Gaius now ordered his remaining centuries to march towards them, while he led his remaining mounted archers before them.

This final Parthian advance now found itself caught between two forces that, while admittedly small, could not be ignored. Gaius ordered the archers to fire, and he himself let loose arrows as fast as he could fire. Some of the Parthians peeled towards the cavalry, who pulled to their left, thus widening the Parthian front. It was then the Parthians found the last Roman century driving into them, thus splitting their line. It was then that Gaius remembered his analysis of the battle of Granicus. He picked out the Parthian leader, he aimed carefully at him and let loose two arrows, and was pleased to see his target fall towards the ground. He continued riding in and out, firing, until his supply of arrows was exhausted.

Now Gaius and the cavalrymen took their longer swords, and Gaius led a seemingly tentative charge towards the outer group of Parthians being divided by his century. He managed to get in two good blows onto two Parthians before it looked as if he would be overwhelmed. He wheeled his horse, and signalled for the cavalrymen to ride away. As they seemed to retreat, almost two hundred Parthians ran after them.

After he had ridden about a hundred and fifty meters, he ordered his horsemen to wheel. Now, the Parthians who had followed were strung out into a straggling line, and his horsemen charged at them.

As he told Timothy later, in some ways the charge was less effective than he hoped, as he spent almost as much effort trying to avoid falling off his horse as striking blows, but with the extended line of Parthians he could strike, regain balance, and strike again. In almost no time at all, these Parthians realized their position was hopeless and they began to run. Some ran back to their main force, but others simply ran. Some on the hill turned around, saw their fleeing comrades, and in the absence of clear orders, began to falter.