Final Campaign

energy at the sight of their cavalry inflictingdamage on us, or facing our oncoming second line. It was for thisreason that I had not been excessively worried about thecounterattack by the Thracians, for their options were seriouslylimited. If they took the first and most obvious action of turningto attack the rear of our first line, they in turn exposed theirown backs to our second line, which still had yet to loose ajavelin. However, if they continued up the hill to engage thesecond line, they would be facing a fresh force with a fullcomplement of javelins, without having sufficient numbers to punchtheir way through. All in all, their attack had been a futilegesture, although my own stubbornness and Primus’ panic had made itseem like there was some hope. The day’s surprises were not over,however, because the Thracian commander chose to do neither optionthat I had foreseen. A horn blew, the Thracians turning immediatelyabout, slashing their way back down the hill to rejoin the mainbody and their comrades. My respect for the Thracian commander wentup a notch for recognizing that he was in a situation that he couldnot win. I looked over at Primus, making no attempt to hide myscorn, pleased to see him looking shamefaced at the sight of theretreating Thracians. Not saying anything, I kicked Ocelus to movedown the slope, following the second line, this time making surethat Caldus came with me. The Thracian cavalry might havewithdrawn, but the battle was not over by a long shot.

Flaminius was directing the men of the firstline that were still standing and fighting, while his SecundusPilus Prior led the men of the second line, being the highestranking. Because the first line was between them and the Thracians,they did not risk loosing the javelins, instead dropping them to goimmediately to the sword. The men of the second line had to relievethe Cohorts and Centuries of the first, another maneuver wepracticed a great deal, although it was almost impossible to do sounder battle conditions. With the first line engaging the Thracianinfantry again, the second line moved into position, each Centuryaligning behind a Century currently fighting. When each Centurionof the first line blew the whistle, the man on front would gothrough the process of disengaging, pushing off with his shieldwhile trying to land a killing blow before moving to the back ofthe line as normal. Except, in this case, he would move all the wayto the rear of the Century from the second line that was theirrelief, where their signifer was waiting. The arrival of thefresh Cohorts was enough to regain the ground that had been lost tothe Thracian cavalry, and the enemy infantry began sustainingheavier losses. Because they had no system of relief, their menstood on the front lines until they were exhausted or struck down,only giving way when they were no longer effective one way or theother. Bodies had started to pile even higher, forcing our men tostep over them as they pushed their way deeper into the enemyformation. Along with the lull in the fighting, there had been anaccompanying lull in the sounds of battle, but now the roaring dinhad restarted, our relieving men shouting their own battle cries,iron ringing against iron with renewed fury. I looked at the men ofthe first line, dismayed by the losses they had suffered, whichwere far greater than I had hoped. Only time would tell how manywere dead and how many of the wounded would recover, but themedici were working busily, knowing from experience that themore quickly they could attend to a wounded man, the better hischances of recovery. The trick is in knowing which man can be savedfor future duty and which would most likely not. At the moment, Icould not worry about these matters, but I could feel Flaminius’glare. I recognized that it would not make him feel any better thatI knew exactly what he was feeling at that moment. His hostilityand anger was justified, and I did not begrudge him in theslightest. The second line was now threatening to cause theThracian line to completely collapse. The enemy commander, seeingthis, committed his reserve force, numbering about 1500 men, andlooking as if they were composed of the bodyguards and chosen menof the tribal leaders of the three tribes facing us. This meantthat they would be the most experienced and best-equipped warriorsof all the Thracian force. My heart sank, now knowing that thecorrect command to give was to call for the Second and Seventh ofthe 8^th, meaning Gaius would have to go into the fight.However, I was determined not to repeat the same mistake of lettingmy emotions rule my decisions, so I ordered Caldus to sound thecall for the two reserve Cohorts. They arrived very quickly fromtheir spot further up the slope, and I pointed out the spot wherethe Thracian commander was sending his own reserves.

“Your job is to beat those bastards,” I toldthe 8^th’s Secundus Pilus Prior, Tiberius Caelius. Evenas I was speaking, the Thracian reserve was slashing into our line,picking a spot that seemed weak to them, or perhaps it was a randomchoice. The better-equipped, more experienced warriors again madean impression, pushing back our men a few steps, and worse,inflicting more casualties. Sending in the two Cohorts was not thesame as relieving a line; these men had to be fed into the fight tocounter the extra bodies on the Thracian side, meaning theyessentially had to push their way into the fight, in between thoseCenturies that were already engaged. Again, the two Cohorts couldnot loose javelins, so they were dropped as Caelius and Palmadirected their Centurions where they were to take their Centuries.While they moved into position, I had Caldus sound the call for thecommander of the cavalry, waiting at the top of the hill. Libo camegalloping up; I told him to bring the combined force down a bit,and make themselves ready.

“I’m not going to wait long to give thesignal,” I warned Libo. “I want to hit them while they’re stillengaged and before they start to run.”

Libo saluted, repeating the orders back tome to show