Lazica Theme (3): The Georgian Commander's Last Stand
"Our casualties are mounting."
The East Roman forces were holding out far better than expected. Watching this, Ioannis began to grow anxious. If their losses swelled too much, it would be impossible to hold off the Empire's reinforcements.
"Don't worry too much, my lord. They'll break soon enough."
"It's just their final stand."
Ioannis nodded, forcing a calm facade at his aides' words. He turned his gaze back to the enemy, resolving to focus on shattering them.
"What's done is done. No turning back now."
All he could do was concentrate on the present. Crushing the foe completely before their own losses grew further was the best course.
Ioannis let out a long breath and beckoned his squire with a gesture.
"I'm heading into the fray myself. Prepare my armor and horse."
His aides stared in shock. With their commander about to lead from the front, they had no choice but to panic.
"Please, stay calm, my lord."
"He's right. The enemy will crumble soon—no need for you to go out there."
"No. I have to lead personally to minimize our losses."
Despite their pleas, Ioannis insisted on joining the fight. No amount of dissuasion could break his stubborn will.
Truth be told, at his advanced age, Ioannis had no real need to throw himself into battle. But he knew exactly how it would look to the troops: their commander drawing steel and charging at the vanguard.
When soldiers thrashed on the knife's edge between life and death, they often imagined their leaders barking orders from the safety of the rear. But if the supreme commander plunged into the melee himself? Their hearts would change in an instant.
In battle, morale was everything. To Ioannis, any risk that bolstered his men's resolve—and helped reap enemy lives—was trivial.
"Jurab! Giorgi! You take the left and right flanks."
At his command, the aides mounted up and rode off to assume control of their assigned wings.
With his subordinates dispatched, Ioannis reached the center. His arrival sent the Georgian troops' spirits soaring skyward.
"It's Lord Ioannis! He's here!"
"Georgia's Sword—Lord Ioannis!"
"The East Romans are done for!"
Seeing this, Ioannis drew his blade and pointed it at the foe.
"Charge!"
He surged forward, the Georgian soldiers following in his wake.
"Out of my way!"
With every flash of his sword, East Roman soldiers crumpled. Wherever Ioannis carved a path, Georgians swarmed in from the sides, cutting down the enemy.
The East Roman lines began to disintegrate. Victory was all but assured.
Then a man blocked Ioannis's path—the young general from earlier that morning. Ioannis smiled and leveled his sword at him.
"We meet again, young wolf."
Greek words from Ioannis's lips. Asakios glared back in reply.
"I haven't forgotten the humiliation from this morning's clash."
"Good. Don't forget it. Youth isn't infinite—learn from it, and you'll find a better path."
"Teaching me now, are you?"
Ioannis threw back his head and laughed, nodding.
"Living so long as a cleric has drilled some bad habits into me."
"Too much talk."
Asakios lunged, sword raised. Ioannis had no intention of standing idle; he squeezed his horse's belly with his thighs. The warhorse reared up, front hooves slamming toward Asakios's head.
Asakios tilted aside at the last instant, dodging with minimal motion before thrusting his blade into the horse's neck.
"Neighhh!"
The beast thrashed in agony, hurling Ioannis from the saddle. He hit the mud face-first, covered in filth but otherwise unharmed. Growling low, he fixed Asakios with a glare.
"You've humiliated me, young wolf."
"I aimed for your neck at first, but spared you some mercy for your age. Shouldn't you be grateful instead of whining about humiliation?"
Ioannis ground his teeth at Asakios's swagger. But he spotted the trap instantly and fell back.
"Trying to bait me, pin me here? You think I'll fall for that?"
Asakios said nothing, just glared.
"Taking the insult and running without reprisal? All Georgians are cowards like you."
"Cowards? If we are, then you're idiots surrounded by cowards, waiting to die."
Ioannis remained unshaken by the taunts. Asakios grew frantic instead.
Spotting the shift, Ioannis turned the provocation back on him.
"I know your shallow ploy—stall until reinforcements arrive. But before they do, you'll all die right here."
He gestured rearward with his sword. Asakios followed his gaze.
"Arghhh!"
"M-mercy!"
By now, Georgian forces were hammering the East Roman center. While Asakios dueled Ioannis, the Georgian left and right had hammered the flanks relentlessly.
The East Roman army was collapsing. Asakios could only grit his teeth.
"I'll take your head with me in death!"
"You think I'll die easily?"
As their blades met, screams erupted from the rear. Ioannis whipped around in alarm, trying to assess the chaos behind.
Mysterious troops had appeared. The unidentified enemy tore into the Georgian rear with ferocious intensity, sending them into panicked flight.
"Help!"
"Cavalry burst out from behind!"
Cavalry. The word stunned Ioannis. Dawn had broken, but visibility was still poor in the early light—too soon for East Roman forces to arrive in force. Yet enemies had materialized in their rear. He couldn't help but reel.
"How could they be here already..."
Asakios seized the opening, swinging for Ioannis's neck.
"Eyes off the enemy!"
Ioannis twisted to counter, but his aged body lagged behind his desperate will. His throat opened to Asakios's blade.
Asakios bellowed triumphantly over the fallen commander.
"The enemy general is dead! I, Asakios, have slain General Ioannis!"
The Georgians faltered at his cry. They didn't understand the East Roman tongue, but the corpse at his feet told the tale all too clearly: Ioannis.
The first to spot it fled in terror.
"Eek!"
"R-run!"
Commanderless, the Georgian army broke and routed. The East Romans, moments from annihilation, rallied and gave chase.
"Lord Asakios slew their general!"
"The Georgians are fleeing! Pursue!"
"Time for vengeance!"
Elated, the East Roman soldiers pursued with fiery zeal.
"Gah!"
Georgian survivors fled toward their camp, dodging East Romans. But death awaited there too.
"T-Turks!"
"Why are the Turks here?!"
Georgia's long wars with the Khazars had taught every soldier the terror of Turkic horsemen. To infantry, they were reapers—impossible to escape when they loosed arrows from horseback.
"Damn it... I-I can't... I'm running!"
"I want to live too!"
"Don't run!"
"I'll kill every deserter! Hold your posts!"
Unable to reach camp, soldiers chose flight. Aides drew swords to block them, but fear ruled the men—it fell on deaf ears.
"Die by blade or hoof—same difference!"
"It's still dawn—hide in the woods, and we live!"
The soldiers outnumbered the aides. They couldn't stem the tide, and the unit shattered.
The Turkic cavalry pounced like hunters, picking off stragglers with leisurely arrow fire.
Instinct told the Georgians escape was futile. Some held fast, awaiting orders from aides.
"Damn it... Spearmen to the front! No matter how swift the Turkic horse, a solid formation can hold them—and we survive!"
Giorgi, one of Ioannis's aides commanding the right flank, now shouldered leadership of the entire army after his lord's death. Turkic cavalry's sudden arrival tested him, but he'd fought Khazars before.
To counter horse, you needed cover. None handy in open battle, so he'd use bodies: spearmen to blunt charges, archers to counter.
As spearmen formed up, a horseman in unfamiliar garb—a Norman helmet—charged with a guttural roar.
"Raaarghhh!"
His spear struck like lightning. Giorgi had no time to react before it impaled and flung him aside.
The man ripped off his helmet and bellowed.
"Surrender! Spare your lives at least."
The abrupt slaughter left spearmen dropping weapons even before forming ranks.
"W-we surrender."
"Mercy, please."
The Georgians yielded. The long, brutal war between East Rome and Georgia in Trebizond reached its end.