The Rise Of An Empire In Ancient Europe-Chapter 35 -

"The soldiers are eating. There's still time before we march," Asistes replied, setting a tray of food on the table: bread, cheese, sausage, and water.

"Quite a feast. Is this what the soldiers are eating too?" Juleios asked.

"More or less. Since a battle might occur today, they need the extra energy," Asistes explained.

Relieved, Juleios ate quickly.

Soon, the long blasts of a brass horn echoed across the camp. Juleios donned his armor carefully. In addition to his usual gear, he added a red helmet adorned with feathers—a mark of his leadership.

Outside, the soldiers were bustling with activity. Fully equipped, they dismantled their tents and delivered them to the baggage train. Officers shouted orders amidst the chaos.

"First Company! First Company, over here!"

"Second Company, line up!"

"Fourth Squad of the Fifth Company, gather here!"

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The camp buzzed with noise. Horses neighed, oxen groaned, and soldiers called out to one another as they prepared the pack animals. The organized chaos resembled a lively marketplace.

Standing at the edge of the commotion, Juleios took a deep breath. Today marks the beginning of my journey as a true leader, he thought, steeling himself for the challenges ahead.

The morning sun had just begun to rise, casting a soft glow over the camp as the soldiers prepared for the day ahead. Juleios stood at the edge of his tent, observing the bustling activity. This was the first time he would lead his troops in a march, and the weight of the responsibility was not lost on him.

Philesius approached, saluting sharply. "Leader Juleios, the entire army is ready."

Expressionless, Juleios nodded. "Let's move out."

As the troops began forming ranks, Juleios noticed their lack of urgency. The process dragged on, and it took over an hour before the first units were ready to depart. He sighed inwardly, noting the disorganized state of the army. In his past life, he had seen depictions of military precision and efficiency; this was anything but.

Lacking the authority to immediately impose drastic changes, Juleios decided to quietly observe and take note of the shortcomings. He planned to discuss potential reforms with his officers when the time was right. For now, patience was his ally.

Philesius, sensing Juleios's frustration, attempted to reassure him. "Leader, this is normal for a mercenary army. Discipline isn't as strict as in a city-state's forces."

Juleios merely nodded, though inwardly, he resolved to change that perception. "Understood. Let's keep moving."

Xilos arrived with Juleios's horse. Mounting it with surprising ease, Juleios was grateful for the muscle memory of the body he now inhabited. Thessalians were known for their equestrian skills, and it seemed he had inherited those instincts.

As the camp emptied and the troops began their march, Juleios rode alongside his officers. The slow pace of the baggage train hindered their progress, but it was a necessary burden, carrying vital supplies. Mersis was tirelessly overseeing the logistics, darting back and forth to address issues with the pack animals.

Cristoia, among the women in the baggage train, caught Juleios's eye. Her poise and elegance stood out even amidst the chaos. When she noticed his gaze, she offered a faint smile before returning to her duties. Juleios quickly looked away, focusing on the task at hand.

The march had barely begun when a commotion erupted in the rear ranks. A messenger galloped forward to report, "Leader Juleios, Mithradates and a group of Persian cavalry are circling the army, shouting for our soldiers to surrender!"

Philesius scoffed. "Typical psychological warfare. It won't work. Our men won't fall for such tricks."

Juleios wasn't so sure. "Keep an eye on the situation," he ordered. "Send messengers to report any developments immediately."

As the march continued, more reports trickled in. Mithradates's taunts were having an effect. Soldiers from other camps had already abandoned their weapons and defected to the Persians. The news sent a chill through Juleios. The cracks in the mercenary army's unity were starting to show.

"Leader, what should we do?" Asistes asked, his voice tense.

Juleios's mind raced. He knew they couldn't chase the cavalry—they lacked the speed and mobility. Yet allowing Mithradates to continue unchecked would only sow more discord.

Then, Matonis's voice broke through Juleios's thoughts. "Let me throw a javelin at them!"

Asistes snapped, "They're too far, and their horse archers have better range! Don't be foolish!"

But Juleios's eyes lit up. He turned to the messenger. "How far are the Persians when they shout?"

"About a hundred meters," the messenger replied.

Juleios quickly formulated a plan. Turning to Philesius and the others, he explained, "If we can predict where they'll stop next, we can position our javelin throwers to ambush them."

Philesius frowned. "Even if we gather the best throwers, a hundred meters is too far."

"Not if we lure them closer," Juleios countered. "They stay just out of range because they feel safe. But if we feign weakness, they'll come closer to gloat."

Philesius's expression shifted as the idea took root. "It's risky. If the timing isn't perfect..."

"It's better than doing nothing," Juleios said firmly. "We need to show them we're not defenseless."

With Philesius's reluctant approval, Juleios called for Xilos and his squad. "You've trained with javelins the longest. I need your team to execute this plan."

Xilos saluted. "We won't let you down, Leader."

Juleios explained the strategy in detail. Xilos's squad would position themselves near a vulnerable-looking section of the baggage train, concealed behind carts and supplies. When Mithradates approached, soldiers in the open would act frightened, feigning a retreat to draw the Persians closer. Once within range, Xilos's squad would strike.

As the preparations began, Juleios couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and anxiety. This would be his first time leading troops in an actual combat scenario. Success would solidify his leadership; failure could shatter the fragile trust his men had in him.

The plan was set, and all they could do now was wait for Mithradates to take the bait.

The trap was laid. Now, it was time to see if the Persians would fall for it.