“Sound the call for the rest of the cavalryto advance to contact,” I shouted to Caldus, who fortunately,reacted instantly, the first notes beginning to sound in the airbefore my command had died in the air.
Despite the two Tribunes, along with thetroopers bringing up the rear, having managed to avoid thecatastrophe ahead of them, they were now vulnerable to the hardcharging Thracians leading the pursuers. Their long swords andspears were held out in front of them as they closed with our men.Libo and the men of the rearguard had just enough time to turnabout to at least get moving back toward the charging Thracians sothat when they met, the crashing sound carried clearly above eventhe din of shouting men and screaming horses. Almost immediately,the fighting was obscured by dust, but I could just make out goutsof water splashing into the air, telling me that the fight hadextended into the shallows of the river. With our rearguardfighting for time, one of the Decurions at the front was trying toget his troopers reorganized to turn about to go help theircomrades. The Greek fire was dissipating somewhat, except therewere still pockets of the flammable jelly-like liquid burningfiercely in the roadway, making his task almost impossible. I couldsee at least three horses on the ground, thrashing about in amanner that suggested that they had broken at least one limb.Fortunately, someone had thought quickly enough to put the twocavalrymen out of their misery, and they lay smoldering where theyhad been dispatched. From my left, the guard Cohort had moved asideto allow the relieving cavalry column to go to the aid of thescouting party. However, the relieving troopers encountered thesame problem with their mounts balking at the sight and smell ofthe flames.
The sounds of their own kind screaming inagony weren’t helping matters, and I heard my voice roar out,“Somebody kill those horses! They’re panicking the others!”
I was a good distance away, so that even asstrong as my voice is, I doubted they heard me, but someoneactually did run over, and at great risk to themselves from theflailing hooves, quickly cut each beast’s throat. This seemed tohelp somewhat, yet I could see the riders still struggling tocontrol their own mounts, savagely whipping them forward throughthe smoke and flames.
“Pluto’s cock, this is a disaster,” Imuttered, and it certainly seemed that way from where I wassitting.
Feeling helpless, I tried to think ofsomething that would help relieve the pressure as I watched thefighting intensify, more men from each side making their way towardan opponent they had picked out. I wheeled Ocelus, taking thechance that some of the archers that had been watching and waitingfor just such an opportunity were too occupied watching the fightbelow. I kicked my horse to gallop up to Flavianus, still standingbehind the plutei.
Seeing me, he gave a nervous look up at thefortress, asking abruptly, “Do you want to die today, Prefect?Between you and that big beast of yours, they’re not likely tomiss.”
Ignoring him, I pointed to the scorpions onone wing of the plutei that looked like they had a betterangle to do what I wanted them to do.
“Turn those around, and open fire on thosebastards down there.”
His look of surprise came and went in aninstant, yet he did not hesitate, nodding while shouting theorders. The scorpion crews, no less surprised, were not quite asquick to move, drawing a string of curses worthy of my days asPrimus Pilus, which got them hopping. It took a few moments forthem to unstake the legs. I knew that in the excitement it waslikely they would forget where they had been placed exactly,meaning they would have to sight them in again when they turnedback on the fortress. Still, the fight below was just beginning toget organized, as the middle of the Thracian column, which Iestimated to be at least five hundred in total, were still tryingto force their way into the fighting. They presented anartilleryman’s dream target, a fat mass of horse and men, where itwas almost impossible to miss, and within close enough range thatthe bolts could do damage to multiple targets. There was no way ascorpion bolt could pass through the mass of a horse’s body, but ifone struck a man in the torso, or in the neck of the horse it wasvery likely to pass all the way through to hit someone or somethingelse. The high-pitched twang of the scorpions began, and I couldbarely distinguish the dark blur as first one bolt then anotherwent hurtling down the hill. Just like shooting uphill is tricky,so is downhill, and I was disappointed but not surprised to see thefirst two bolts go whistling over the heads of the Thracians,splashing into the river. Several heads whipped about, looking forthis new threat, the sound of the scorpion bolt being verydistinctive and scary, as I had learned during the civil war. Thefirst two scorpion crews called out to the others the informationthey needed to make the adjustments and avoid firing highthemselves, and were rewarded by their comrades’ bolts slamminginto the mass of Thracian horse. Again, the air was rent with thescreams of men and horses as the heavy wooden missiles with theirmetal tips punched into the bellies, chests, or necks of thehorses, along with the torsos of their riders. Tightly packed theway they were, the impact was not just from the bolts themselves,as the horses that had been hit went crashing into the mountsaround them. Just like the Greek fire had done to us, the scorpionscompletely disrupted the cohesion and willingness of the Thraciansto fight farther back in their column, while at the same time, ourrelieving force had arrived to slam into their front ranks. Even inthe waning light, there were brilliant flashes of silvery gold, thesetting sun catching blades chopping down or thrusting at theirtargets, followed an instant later by the sound of metal strikingmetal. In just a matter of moments, the Thracians evidentlyrecognized that they had lost their advantage, with the battleturning against them. I heard a strange-sounding horn blow a call.Immediately,
