Antica's Lion (5)
I stood on the ramparts with grim resolve, but the enemy was no different. Shapur had come up with an unexpected tactic to avoid repeating the failures of the previous battle.
Dudududu!
A thunderous rumble shook the ground as countless cavalry charged forward with war cries. My eyes widened at the sight.
Cavalry in the vanguard?
Of course, the enemy horsemen had no intention of ramming their mounts into the walls. Drags were tied to their horses' tails, designed to kick up sand and dust.
Whooooosh!
As the massive cavalry charge thundered on, an enormous dust cloud billowed up. In an instant, the thick haze blotted out the view.
Are they trying to mess with our catapults and archers' firing timing with that?
It was a cunning ploy. This would delay our first volley of catapult stones and arrows. Simple, yet it showed they'd put real thought into minimizing casualties.
I raised my hand and bellowed,
"Prepare the catapults!"
"Catapults ready!"
The centurions relayed the order. As the soldiers hurriedly loaded stones, I clenched my fist. Cold sweat slicked my palm.
In this case, we might only get one good catapult shot before they close in.
That meant the enemy would reach the walls with their formation largely intact.
"Range fifty! Enemy cavalry approaching archery range!"
"Archers, hold fire until ordered!"
I commanded the archers to stand down. Shooting down the dust-raising cavalry now would gain us nothing.
And besides, cavalry weren't a direct threat to the siege. Wasting arrows on them would be foolish.
Through gaps in the dust cloud the enemy had stirred, I spotted faint banners shifting. Our attacks needed to focus on their infantry, and even that wasn't enough.
"Catapults ready! Range one hundred!"
"Range one hundred! Prepare to fire!"
The decurions adjusted the catapults' range.
Soon, war cries echoed from within the dust cloud.
"Waaaaah!"
"Fire!"
"Loose!"
Kreeeek! Thung!
The catapults unleashed their stones in unison, hurtling into the opaque dust cloud.
"Kyaaak!"
Dull thuds and screams erupted with each impact. The catapults were effective, no doubt.
But without seeing our own men get hit, the soldiers' morale held steadier.
Ersian troops burst through the dust cloud, surging toward the walls.
"Prepare to fire!"
The centurions had the archers nock arrows. As they drew, I dropped my hand.
"Fire!"
Pyuuu! Pyut!
The Ersian infantry raised pre-issued shields to block the arrows. Previously, they'd countered our wall archers, but this time, they skipped even that.
They crashed forward like a wave, aiming to scale the walls in one go. The Ersian army had opted for a simple, streamlined siege strategy that avoided unnecessary chaos.
They're definitely faster.
The enemy infantry endured our fire and pressed on to the walls. This time, not just ladders—they fired giant crossbows with grappling hooks attached.
The moment I saw those hooks, I realized they planned to climb the ropes.
"Don't try to cut the hooks! Slash the ropes with your swords!"
I roared at the soldiers.
Within minutes of latching onto the walls, the Ersians had hundreds of ladders and ropes in place.
We poured oil and thrust spears, but ladders and ropes multiplied too quickly.
The enemy advanced in orderly waves, spaced just right—their siege pace twice as fast as yesterday's rabble.
These are the Ersian king's personal guard.
I could tell from their movements. Training level, siege savvy—it was on another plane from the first waves.
Soon, the first Ersians crested the walls.
"Glory to Emperor Shapur!"
A few Ersian warriors climbed up waving their unit banner. I drew my sword at the sight.
"Antica has the empire's eagles!"
I charged the banner-bearing warrior, bellowing.
"Protect the governor!"
My Praetorian Guards rushed to flank my cloak.
Claaang!
My blade clashed with a gleaming bald warrior's. He matched my height but was far bulkier.
I felt myself shoved back a step on impact.
In that case.
I pivoted, redirecting his force forward. He lurched, exposing his side.
I shoved his blade down, then swung in an arc for his neck.
Taaang!
But he was battle-hardened. He twisted, blocking with his shield. I leaped back, dodging his counter.
He recovered on one knee, glaring.
"Heh. Empire commander? You'll make a fine gift for His Majesty."
He regripped his sword.
I spat and leveled my blade horizontally at him.
Quick on his feet. But what about this?
As I closed in, he raised his sword vertically to cleave me. In that instant, I slung my cloak off one shoulder.
Whoosh!
The black Praetorian cloak billowed into his face. He slashed it blindly—but I was already gone.
I dropped low, circled right, and thrust into his side.
"Urk."
His mouth gaped; he crumpled to his knees. I planted my boot on his shoulder and yanked my sword free.
Thud.
"You look seasoned, but I've staked my life on the line for over fifteen years, kid."
I spun my blade and charged the Ersian banner-bearer. He thrust the standard like a spear.
Slow!
I hurled my sword into his chest.
"Gah!"
He screamed and toppled.
I snatched the Ersian banner and hurled it down from the walls.
"Hold your positions! Show these Ersians how solid the empire's walls are!"
I drew a spare sword and beheaded a fresh climber.
The enemy came endlessly, like the Hydra of myth. No matter how many I felled, more scaled the walls. Blood filled my mouth; I paused to catch my breath.
"Governor! Golden Tower has fallen!"
A Praetorian behind me reported.
I turned, frowning. The Golden Tower—one of our key symbolic strongpoints—now flew the Ersian king's banner.
We'll crumble one by one now.
I faced reality. If Golden Tower fell, the rest would follow soon.
Ersians assaulted everywhere. Our defense wouldn't last minutes.
Then Rikius swept in, cloak billowing.
"Governor! It's ready as ordered."
"Damn good timing."
At least we wouldn't go quietly.
"What now?"
"Sound the retreat. Pull the men off the walls!"
"Yes, sir!"
"Signal the trumpeters!"
The horns blared; our exhausted troops turned and fled.
The Ersians cheered at our retreat.
"Uwaaaah!"
"Long live Emperor Shapur!"
They waved weapons and banners atop the walls, celebrating. Seizing the ramparts usually meant victory. Their joy was understandable.
Soon, they winched open the gates.
As the enemy gloated, I told Rikius,
"Teach them crossing Antica's walls comes at a steep price."
"Yes, sir. Collapse the supports!"
Soldiers below yanked ropes tied to the struts.
Pre-weakened by axes, the supports snapped.
Craaaack!
The wall shuddered as underground braces gave way.
Like an earthquake, the structure quaked. The triumphant Ersians atop it paled in confusion.
Then.
Kwaaaang!
The wall sank meters with a roar, crushing down.
"Aaaah!"
The twenty-meter drop flung Ersians everywhere. They screamed on impact.
Chunks toppled, smashing more.
Thousands perished in the catastrophe.
Survivors froze in shock. Who'd imagine Antica's mighty walls collapsing at the moment of capture?
Probably no one.
Seeing them stunned, I mounted my warhorse and drew my sword.
Our survivors— a thousand legionaries from Antica and Egypt, all cavalry—awaited orders. I'd maximized punch by mounting the weary.
Hundreds of remaining slaves backed us.
I faced them and roared,
"Eagles of the empire! Today we fought with honor. We stood at Antica, gave our all for the empire, and fulfilled our duty with resolve.
Let all men remember it so. Glory to the empire! Honor to the legion! Pride in our hearts!"
"Long live Imperator Ain!"
"Legion! Charge!"
"Victory for the empire!"
"Waaaaah!"
I led from the front, spurring toward the breach.
Dudududu!
We thundered at the dazed Ersians beyond the rubble.
"B-block the empire dogs!"
An Ersian officer yelled, but shock paralyzed his men.
Slaaash!
I beheaded him mid-gallop.
We trampled disorganized Ersians and wounded, surging through.
"They're barely a handful! Stop them!"
The dust from the collapse hid our numbers.
Terror-struck, they scattered.
"Trample them! Ravage! Today we die for the empire!"
I roared like a lion, leading the assault.
"Long live the emperor!"
Rikius burst through the dust first. As we poured out, the Ersian command—still clueless—jolted.
Banners fluttered frantically around their king.
We crushed infantry in a straight charge.
I dodged a brave Ersian's spear-thrust and severed his head.
Desperate, they loosed arrows. A hail from thousands of archers unhorsed dozens.
I bellowed nonstop to ignore our thinning ranks.
One hundred meters!
Down to two hundred riders, I closed near enough to see Shapur's face.
The great king Shapur!
The hero who'd crushed our Eastern Army and assaulted Antica lost composure before our desperate charge.
I saw him shout as arrows pierced my shoulder.
Shapur—if only I could take his head. Our blood would redeem the East and end this war in victory!
"Today, the empire's eagle Ain salutes you from the brink of death!"
I roared lion-like, slashing foes. But our charge faltered.
Dodging arrows, more pierced my shoulder. My horse screamed, reared, then toppled sideways.
The world blackened as I lost consciousness.
(To be continued)