A few moments after they finished eating Nikas bellowed, “Get your arses up and moving men! We have a long march ahead of us, and it would be a damn shame if you sluggards had to spend the day running in circles around the Thema as it marched, because you held us all up!”
The men of the 2nd Kentarchia hurried through their packing process. Athos and Baltazar kicked the sandy soil onto their fire. With water scarce, they used dirt to starve the fires of oxygen instead of water to extinguish the flames. They then separated the tent back into separate tent halves. Each placed a tent half into their packs. Finally, each man took a tent pole and tied it to the top of their pack using the drawstring.
Within minutes, along with the rest of their unit, they were standing at attention. White and gray smoke billowed from the recently extinguished fires. The Cornu sounded again, and the 2nd Aleppo began marching down the main street of the camp. Next, the 8th Mesopotamian filed out Kentarchia by Kentarchia. Finally, it was the turn of the 5th Parthica. The cavalry seemed to have disappeared already. Odd, Athos thought.
Athos was extremely tired of eating dust. With roughly eight thousand soldiers in front of him, the dust cloud being generated seemed like a mini sandstorm. Silence seemed to be the order of the day as no one wanted to eat more of the dust than necessary by opening their mouth to talk. Athos kept wondering what had happened to the cavalry.
The sun had reached its zenith and begun its downward journey. Dust was sticking to almost every bit of Athos’ exposed skin. Sweat poured out of his pores hour after dusty hour, and the dust would stick to any wet spots on his skin. As he looked around, he saw that the members of his Kentarchia looked more like ghosts than people. They began descending into a deep valley. As they reached the bottom, he felt a faint vibration in the soil beneath him. “What’s that?” He asked out loud while trying not to choke on the mouthful of dust he ate as a consequence of opening his mouth.
The officers ordered a halt and used their hands to form a cup around their ears. All were silent as they listened. The vibrations, Athos felt, slowly intensified. Baltazar asked out loud, “What is the source of the vibration?”
Constan answered him, “There is only one thing that makes a vibration like this, cavalry.”
Damon chimed in, “No worries then, it must be our cavalry returning.”
Constan replied, “Maybe.”
After a few more moments the officers started bellowing orders. “Form battle lines. Prepare to repulse enemy cavalry!” Nikas yelled. It took a few seconds for Nikas’ statement to sink in. Athos spoke out, “Enemy cavalry? What?”
Constan yelled at Athos, “Pull ye head out of your arse!”
The units of the Syrian Thema quickly broke from their column of six marching formation and began forming battle lines. The men assigned to the task of distributing armor ran back to the carts that followed each Kentarchia. They passed out the armor bags to each owner. Athos and Baltazar tried to don their armor quickly, but it was too late. As they started to work on Athos’ breastplate, the vibration became a very audible rumble.
They stopped working on Athos’ breastplate and took up their weapons. As they did, so cavalry poured over the top of the hill in front of them at a gallop. The cavalry was dressed in full plate mail from head to toe. Athos thought, How can they stand to wear all that in this heat? They must feel like they are baking in an oven in this sun. Each rider carried a lance in his right hand and a large metal kite-shaped shield in his left. The lances had a purple ribbon tied around the tip.
Moments later Athos heard more cavalry coming from the left. He turned to look. “Saints be praised!” he exclaimed, “They’re are ours!”
“Shut your trap!” Nikas screamed. “Spears and shields men!” As one, every other man planted his spear to brace for the charge. The odd men held their shield aloft to protect both the spearman and themselves.
A bead of sweat slowly slid down Athos’ forehead as he gazed upon the heavy cavalry charging toward them. There were at least a thousand of them. Athos stole a glance to his left. Their own light cavalry was still a fair distance away riding down the valley toward them. Athos said, “They aren’t going to get here in time.”
“No casting spears, or shooting arrows! Brace for the charge!” Nikas yelled, trying to make his voice heard over the tremendous noise created by the charging cavalry. As one the line of heavy cavalry lowered their lances. Athos looked at one of the riders as he held his spear. That rider has his lance aimed for my head. The heavy cavalry drew closer and closer. Three hundred feet, two hundred and fifty, and then two hundred feet. Athos dug his spear into the ground and braced for the impact of the cavalry.
“Steady men. If you remember your training some of you may survive,” Nikas yelled as he rode his horse to the rear of the Kentarchia.
Athos started visibly shaking but continued to hold his spear firmly in place. Off to his right, someone vomited into the sand. Athos felt his bladder loosening. No! God, please let me have the strength not to piss myself right before my death!
The heavy cavalry charged onward. As they reached the one hundred and fifty-foot mark, the ground itself began to shake as if it were an earthquake. Athos focused on the grains of sand being tossed up by the rider whose lance came closer and closer to its destination at the back of Athos’ skull. One hundred and twenty-five feet, one hundred and fifteen feet. As the riders reached one hundred feet in front of them, they broke left and right in perfect formation.
Nikas yelled, his voice was just loud enough to cut through the tremendous noise, “Men of the 2nd Kentarchia do not engage the cavalry. They are Kataphractoi from the Imperial Tagmata.”
At this Constan started giggling. “You lads looked like frightened pups! I am proud of ye though, none of ye pissed yourselves!” Athos blushed at this last statement.
Athos stood and watched in awe as the Kataphractoi of the Tagmata executed their maneuver with great precision. Half of the charging cavalry broke left, and the other half broke right. The right side of the line broke left, and the left half of the line broke right. This had the effect of creating two lines of cavalry that rode past each other, in front of the Syrian Thema at about one hundred feet. When the cavalry had reached the edge of the Syrian Thematic formation, they turned to their right and left back toward the hill. The result being that the two lines of cavalry broke toward the hilltop that was behind them as they rode. The formation resembled a rain drop wide, and circular at its base but thin and straight at its top, as the two lines came back together. The Kataphractoi rode two abreast in tight formation as they disappeared over the horizon.
At the same time, the Syrian Thema light cavalry arrived on the left flank of the Thema’s formation. Seeing that the threat had disappeared, they pulled hard on their reins. The officers came together in front of the formation. After several minutes of discussion, they re-formed.
Following their headlong charge to come to the rescue of their infantry brothers and sudden stop, their lines were disorganized and ragged. The light cavalry split into two groups, five hundred placed themselves on the left flank of the Thema and five hundred on the right. From this position, they could resume light cavalry’s traditional role vis-à-vis Roman infantry, as a screening force to protect the flanks from sudden attack.
Once the cavalry was in place, the Kentarchia commanders yelled in unison, “Forward march.” The men of the Syrian Thema began marching as one in their battle lines toward the hill that lead out of the valley. Athos stole glances to his left and his right. We look magnificent.
The sound of their sandaled feet slapping against the ground in unison created a rhythmic, clop, clop, clop noise. The rhythmic noise, lulled Athos from his present reality back to the events of his final day in Damascus. “God, please return me to Athea soon,” Athos was able to say this prayer out loud and no one could hear him. The sound of a voice speaking at normal volume was easily cloaked by the noise being made by the Thema on the march.
Th
e thoughts of that wonderful night put a smile on his face as he marched up the hill. Constan happened to look over at that moment and saw Athos with a grin on his face. Constan rolled his eyes at Athos and muttered, “Lads.” While shaking his head and went back to looking straight ahead.
As they crested the hill, Athos was greeted with a sight that made the spectacle of the Syrian Thema on the march pale in comparison. Before him, laid out in perfect battle formation, was the men of the Imperial Tagmata. The Imperial Tagmata was composed of three bodies of infantry, each roughly nine thousand strong each. They formed three boxes approximately one thousand men wide with nine total ranks of Skutatoi deep.
To the rear of the Skutatoi were roughly one thousand Toxatoi archers behind each square. The gap between the squares was roughly one hundred feet. This provided some flexibility to the infantry and also provided a lane for the Kataphractoi to use. On each flank was roughly one thousand light cavalry. Behind the infantry and Toxatoi formations were the command group and the one thousand Kataphractoi. Each one of them a tiny metal fortress unto themselves. The entire formation was roughly, thirty thousand strong.
The reflection of sunlight off the Imperial Tagmata’s armor blinded each rank of the Syrian Thema in turn, as they crested the hill. The hundreds of banners identifying each individual Kentarchia whipped proudly in the breeze. The wind, blowing in from the nearby Mediterranean Sea, was tinged with humidity. For the first time in a long time, Athos took a deep breath that was not uncomfortably dry.
The young Armenian was used to the mountain forests of his home with its pervasive cool dampness. By contrast, the air of the desert flatlands was never comfortable to breathe. One got used to it in time, but breathing air tinged with humidity was something he missed, and he rejoiced at being able to take a deep breath without drying out. The air also had a tinge of what could best be described as perfume. The smell, one never notices when directly in it, that a land teeming with life makes. It was the totality of all the smells that plants, trees, grasses, and flowers make when joined together. When you spend time in a desert, and suddenly transition to a land with grasses, flowers, and trees, the very air itself smells like perfume.
The Syrian Thema marched to within one hundred feet of their Tagmata brethren. Each Kentarchia officer yelled in unison, “Halt!” As soon as the Syrian Thema halted, the Imperial Tagmata infantry in unison banged on their shields three times with their Spathas. The noise this created was beyond belief and would strike fear into any enemy facing this brave band.
As the sound of the third strike on the shields faded, they saluted the Syrian Thema. They did this by holding up their Spathas aloft in front of them with the broad side facing the Syrian Thema. The sharp edges of the blade faced left and right of the soldiers. In unison, they then pulled the sword toward them and touched their forehead with the pommel guard.
After this greeting, General Vahan rode in between the two formations and halted in the center. The general turned his horse so that his left was toward the Imperial Tagmata and his right was toward the Syrian Thema. He was joined by the commanders of the Imperial Tagmata and the Syrian Tourma. They took up positions facing him to his left and right. The Imperial Tagmata officers to his right and the Syrian Tourma officers to his left.
“Good afternoon, soldiers of Rome!” The General paused for a moment to give the men a chance to reply.
As they had been trained to do, they yelled back in unison, “Good afternoon, sir!”
“Men, today is a special day. Today marks the first time that the Imperial Tagmata has joined with a Thema since the end of the war with Persia. The blood of your fathers, brothers, friends, and yourselves has bought us years of peace. Unfortunately, that peace has come to an end. Emperor Heraclius has learned his lessons from the mistakes of past Emperors. Unlike some of his short-sighted predecessors, our wise Emperor has seen fit to continue expending treasury funds to maintain the forces arrayed before us today and many others like them throughout the Empire. In the past, in times of peace, the Emperors have cut funding to the military. Heraclius has not cut funding to the military. On the contrary, he has maintained us at a readiness level not seen since the Caesars ruled our Empire from Rome.”
The General paused and took a deep drink from his canteen before continuing, “This foresight has aided us greatly, as out of nowhere, our fine Roman lands, are beset upon by an evil most foul. This evil has risen from the pits of hell to afflict both Rome and Persia. After the thrashing we gave the Persians in the last war, they have been unable to stop the advance of the bewitched Arab Cannibals in their own lands.”
General Vahan paused for effect, and the soldiers of Rome laughed on cue, “The same does not hold true with the Roman Empire. For the first time in a long time, we will be able to meet a threat head on while still close to our borders, instead of deep in our heartland!” The men of the Imperial Tagmata and Syrian Thema roared their approval over the General’s statement. An air of excitement began to permeate the soldiers.
Athos stood silently with the rest of the Syrian Thema as General Vahan gave his speech. This guy sure likes to talk a lot. Hopefully, he is as good a general as he is an orator.
After the laughter died down General Vahan continued his speech, “Today our two Empires are at peace with each other. In fact, the good Governor Maurice of Syria, has negotiated an alliance with Persia!” The General once again paused for effect. He was met with silence, but a few brave souls uttered catcalls and hisses over this news.
The General continued once the murmurs subsided, “Now men, I know that much blood was spilled between us and Persians in the last war. It is hard to forget that, but now that we are allies against the demon spawn being belched forth from the pits of hell, we have a new opportunity! The Persians have been unable to stop the bewitched Arab Cannibals in their march northward from the Arabian Desert; however, they did provide us with an invaluable warning about this threat. While we may not like the Persians, they are at least human, and not demon spawn.”
Athos heard Constan mutter, his voice dripping with hatred, “Right you are about that, General. But as soon as all the demons are dead, I would relish the opportunity to send those bastards straight to hell on their heels.”
Athos’ mind turned back to the General, “-Now threaten Jerusalem. We will join together and march south to the Yarmouk valley. There we will be met by the soldiers of the Palestinia Thema. Once joined we will march south and do what we can to defend Jerusalem from the bewitched Arab Cannibals.”
The General was going to continue, but the sound of a rider at full gallop riding toward both formations gave him pause. Everyone along with Athos turned to look at the source of the noise. An army scout, caked in the dust of the road, rode full tilt toward General Vahan. His Arabian Stallion had lather all over his body and looked to be near death. The horse’s labored breathing could be heard in between the sounds of its hooves striking the ground.
General Vahan’s personal guard, which had been sitting behind the general, moved in front of the General to protect him in case some foul play was at work here. The scout pulled hard on the reins of his Arabian, and the horse tried to stop its gallop. Instead, it cried out in pain and collapsed under the scout. The Scout leaped off his horse and kneeled down before it. He whispered something in the horse’s ear and kissed its sweaty forehead. The horse moaned softly, obviously in a great deal of pain. The rider then drew his Spatha and slit the horse’s throat. The horse’s life blood quickly gushed from the wound. The parched earth greedily absorbed this offering. The scout quickly collected himself, straightened his uniform, and walked up to General Vahan. The scout appeared to be of Gassanid heritage.
The scout spoke directly to the general. Athos could hear the sounds of their voices but couldn’t make out what was being said. Whatever the news was, it seemed to shock the General as the expression on his face went from irritation at having been interrupted mid-speech to horror.
The conver
sation over, the scout saluted the General. One of the Vahan’s personal guard dismounted and gave up his horse to the scout. Another tossed the scout his canteen. The scout turned his mount and rode off to the south at a trot. The General paused for a minute obviously trying to collect himself and gather his thoughts together for what was about to come next.
“Grave news, men. Several of the villages South and East of Jerusalem have been destroyed. Scouts are reporting some of our people have swelled the numbers of the cannibals. I don’t know what dark magics are at work that could cause our own people to turn against us!”
The General paused for a moment, visibly shaken. He then continued, “The Jerusalem Tourma will not be joining us at Yarmouk as planned but will instead stay behind and ensure that the bewitched cannibals do not defile the Holy City. The other Palestinia Tourmas will still be meeting us in the Yarmouk Valley. We are now an army of forty thousand. Be proud men I know that once we meet these bewitched cannibals in battle, they will be no more. We will camp here for the night and then march for Yarmouk.”
This time, General Vahan ended his speech without a closing that inspired the spirit. Immediately Athos, Baltazar, Constan, and the others began talking about the news they had just heard. Caifas immediately spoke out, “My uncle’s family lives in Jerusalem. God, please keep them safe until we can protect them.” Athos remembered, from previous conversations, that Caifas’ uncle was a soldier in the Jerusalem Tourma and his family stayed with him there.
Nikas allowed the discussion to go on for several minutes while he conferred with the other Kentarchia commanders and the 5th Parthica Tourmarches Elias. Besides, to put a halt to the talking would cause the worries of the men to fester with no way to let it out. A messenger rode over to the Kentarchia commanders and spoke with them briefly. Finally, Nikas came walking back and put a stop to the discussion amongst the men.
Byzantium Infected Box Set Page 19
