Hermogenes stared at the general. Then said, very seriously, “If any other general had come up with it, they probably would. But-it’s Belisarius’ plan. That’s what makes the difference.”
Again, the skeptical eye.
“You underestimate your reputation, general. Badly.”
Belisarius began to say that the scheme wasn’t actually his. He had taken it from Julius Caesar, who had used hidden troops in a fortified camp in one of his many battles against the Gauls. But before he could utter more than two words, he fell silent. One of the sentries at the wall was shouting. A genuine alert, now, not a false act.
Belisarius raced to the wall and peered over. Hermogenes joined him an instant later.
The Persians were advancing.
Belisarius studied the Mede formation intently. It was impressive, even-potentially-terrifying. As Persian armies always were.
An old thought caused a little quirk to come to the general’s lips.
I’m always amazed at the way modern Greek scholars and courtiers don’t live in the real world. Their image of Persian armies is fixed a thousand years ago, in the ancient times. When a small number of disciplined and armored Greek and Macedonian hoplites could always scatter the lightly-armed Persian mobs of Xerxes and Darius. The glorious phalanx of the Hellenes against the motley hordes of despotic Asia.
Let them see this, and gape, and tremble.
Many modern Greeks, of course, knew the truth. But they were of a different class than the Greeks who wrote the books and the laws, and collected the taxes, and lorded it over their great estates.
Persia had changed, over the centuries. More, even, than Rome. A class of tough, land-vested nobility had arisen. They were the real power in Persia, now, when all was said and done. True, they paid homage to the Sassanid emperors, and served them, as they had the Parthians who preceded them. But it was a conditional homage and a proud service. The conditions and the pride stemmed from one simple fact. The Persian aristocracy had invented modern heavy cavalry, and they were still better at it than any people on the face of the earth. The Roman cataphracts were, in all essential respects, simply attempts to copy the Persian noble cavalry.
The Persians were now close enough for the details of their formation to be made out.
Unlike Roman armies, which used infantry as the stolid center of their formations-as an anchor for the battle, even if they weren’t much use in the battle itself-the Persians scorned infantry almost entirely. True, there were ten thousand foot soldiers in the advancing Mede army. But Persian infantry were a ragged, scraggly lot: modern Persian foot soldiers were probably even worse than the rabble which had been broken by the hoplites at Marathon and Issus centuries earlier. Miserable peasant levies, completely unarmored except for hide shields; armed only with javelins and light spears; consigned to the flanks; assigned the simple duties of butchering wounded enemies and serving as a buffer against charging foes. Armed cattle, basically.
Belisarius dismissed them with a glance. The general’s attention was riveted on the cavalry advancing at the center of the Persian army. His experienced eye immediately sorted order out of the mass.
The heart of the Persian cavalry were the heavily armored noble lancers, riding huge war horses bred on the Persian plateau. Each nobleman, in turn, brought to battle a small retinue of more lightly armored horse archers. The horse archers would start the battle, and would fight closely alongside the heavy lancers. When the lancers made charges, the mounted archers would act as a screen to keep off enemy cavalry and suppress enemy archers, while the lancers shattered their foe.
It was a ferocious, well-disciplined military machine. No Roman army had won a major battle in the open field against Persia in over a century.
But Belisarius was filled with confidence.
Today, I’m going to do it.
He began to turn away from the wall. Before leaving, however, he stopped a moment and gazed at Hermogenes. The infantry chiliarch grinned.
“Relax, General. You just take care of the cavalry. The infantry will do its job.”
Once back on his horse, Belisarius cantered over to the right wing of his army. The right was in the hands of the Army of Lebanon’s cavalry commanders. Belisarius intended to take his position there at the beginning of the battle. Although the Army of Lebanon had accepted his leadership, he knew that they would quickly slip the leash if he was not there to keep a tight grip on it. The one thing that could ruin his plans was a rash, unplanned cavalry charge. Which, in his experience, cavalry was always prone to do.
That’s another thing I like about infantry. When a man has to charge on his own two legs, he tends to think it over first. Less tiring.
Seeing him approach, the cavalry chiliarchs rode to meet him.
“Soon, now,” announced Eutyches.
Belisarius nodded.
“As soon as-” A blaring cornicen cut him off. Belisarius turned in his saddle just in time to see the first missiles hurled from the four scorpions and two onagers which he had positioned behind the fortified camp. Phocas had gauged the range and given the command for the artillery fire.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a scowl on the face of Pharas.
Belisarius understood the meaning of that expression. Like most modern Roman commanders, Pharas had no use for artillery in a field battle.
But Belisarius forebore comment. He had learned, from experience, that it was a futile argument.
They just don’t understand. Sure, the damned things are a pain to haul around. Sure, they don’t really inflict that many casualties. But they do two invaluable things. First, they break up the cohesion of the enemy’s ranks. An alert soldier, even a heavily armored horseman, can usually dodge a great big scorpion dart or a huge stone thrown by an onager-as long as he isn’t hemmed in by closely packed ranks. So, the enemy starts spreading out. Second- and most important-it’s utterly infuriating to a warrior to be bombarded when he’s too far away to retaliate. So he charges closer. Which is just what I want. Strategic offense; tactical defense. There’s the whole secret in a nutshell.
The two chiliarchs were already galloping toward the front line. Belisarius followed. He needed to be able to watch the progress of the battle, and had already decided he would do it from the right. The hill would have been a perfect vantage point, of course, but he would have been much too isolated from the right wing of his army. Which represented both his heaviest force and his least reliable.
By the time he reached the front line, the Persians had already begun their charge. He saw at once that the enemy had begun the charge much too soon. Even the huge Persian horses couldn’t charge any great distance before becoming exhausted.
And so, once again, the artillery did the trick.
Still, the Persians weren’t Goths. Once Goths began a cavalry charge, they always tried to carry it through. The Medes, sophisticated and civilized for all their noble pride, were much too canny not to suspect a trap.
So, once they got within bow range, the Persian heavy cavalry reined in and let their horses breathe. The lighter mounted archers continued forward, firing their bows.
Pharas didn’t wait for Belisarius’ command. He ordered the Roman horse archers forward. The Huns galloped out onto the battleground, firing their own bows. Within moments, a swirling archery duel was underway.
Between Persian and Hun mounted archers, the contest was unequal. The Persians, as always, fired their bows as rapidly as did the Huns-much more rapidly than Roman cataphracts or regular infantry. But the Persians were better armored, and that extra armor counted for much against the relatively weak bows being used by both sides.
Soon enough, the Huns began falling back. The Persian horse archers did not attempt to charge in pursuit. They were no fools, and knew full well that Huns surpassed everyone in the art of turning a retreat into a sudden counterattack. So they simply satisfied themselves with a disciplined, orderly advance. Firing volley after volley as they came.
Pharas began to grumble, but Belisarius cut him off. Quickly. As he had expected, the chiliarch had already forgotten the battle plan.
“Splendid,” announced Belisarius. “The Huns have already succeeded in fixing the entire left wing of the enemy.”
“They’re advancing on us!” exclaimed Pharas.
