Our Legionaries were facing the last pocketsof infantry, most of whom had formed up in a small shield wall,similar to our orbis but more compact. Grabbing spears fromthe dead if they did not have theirs, the collection of pointssticking out of each of these makeshift defensive formations was ahodgepodge of spears of varying lengths and types, and I saw thatsome of them had even grabbed some of our javelins that had landedin the soft earth on either side of the roadway. The grass that hadbeen growing in lush swaths a few paces from the edge of the rutsthat marked the roadway was now trampled down, slick with the bloodfrom both sides. Bodies were heaped in small piles, and I couldbegin to track the progress of the pursuit by the sight of piles ofbodies of varying sizes where men had been cut down. It might seemstrange, but in a rout of this nature, one is actually better offseparating from one’s comrades, because single men fleeing are lesstempting targets for horsemen than small groups, particularly sinceour cavalrymen were intent on shattering all chances of a rally.Although it never happened to me, I could see how it would be hardto do something like that in a time of sheer terror and panic, thenatural reaction being to cling to your fellow warriors forprotection and comfort. Surveying the field, I saw that one groupof Thracian infantry had managed to get a bit of separation fromthe pursuit, long enough to become a bit better organized. OtherThracians in the vicinity, seeing this, scrambled to join them.Most of them did not make it, being run down by a whooping trooper,swinging their sword in the same manner one cuts summer hay, theblade flashing down on the base of the man’s neck. However, a fairnumber Thracian infantry and cavalrymen who had lost their mountsone way or another had managed to make it to this group. This mobhad now become large enough that it was no longer an easy targetfor the cavalry. Slowly, steadily, these Thracians began to movetoward the stream, clearly planning on using that as an obstacle toblock pursuit from at least the cavalry. The woods on the oppositeside would have been a better choice, since cavalry cannot operateeffectively in such terrain, the fighting style of the Legions notsuited for it either, but the stream was closer. I grimaced at thesight, knowing that we would have to get organized, with at leasttwo Centuries to take care of this remnant of the Thracianforce.
Meanwhile, Libo and the cavalry had lost allcohesion and order, and were now simply composed of small groups ofmen. Because they were native horsemen, from Gaul mostly, they werenotoriously hard to control in situations like this, although theRoman part of our force was not acting much better. I caught sightof Scribonius, who was trailing behind Scipio as he promised, theyoung Tribune holding his sword aloft, the black plumes of hishelmet whipping behind him. Scipio was in hot pursuit of whatlooked like the last group of Thracian cavalry, and since he wasbetter mounted than either Scribonius or the rest of the Evocati,who seemed to be following him, he had pulled away by severallengths. That was a bit worrying, but I was confident thatScribonius would live up to his word to keep the boy safe. Iunderstood how the boy felt; once the initial shock of seeing hisfirst battle wore off, and his blade tasted blood for the firsttime, he would feel like there was liquid fire coursing through hisveins, and he would live life as he had never lived before. Again,it might seem strange to say that for a warrior, battle is themoment when he feels the most alive and, in fact, enjoys his lifemore than at any other moment, but it is the truth. Battle is anintoxicant just as much as wine, and young Scipio had just takenhis first sip from the cup, and I was not one to begrudge him theexperience by sounding the recall at that moment. Besides, whilethe Thracian army was defeated, it was not completely shattered anddestroyed, and that had been my original intention. I wanted toleave no remnant of a force large enough to cause us any mischiefin our rear when we continued to Serdica. With my initial scan ofthe battlefield telling me that we had accomplished most of what wehad set out to do, I also knew from bitter experience that manymore men had fled the field than it would first appear. Those woodsposed a particular problem, because they were fairly extensive,providing good cover and concealment for the men who were luckyenough to make it. Even now, some of the Cohorts of the second linehad tried to cut off that line of retreat from the remainingThracians, some of whom had begun to throw down their weapons insurrender, their arms held out, begging for mercy. There was
