The Rise Of An Empire In Ancient Europe-Chapter 37 - Artauzus Attacks

"Run! Quickly!" Xilos shouted, grabbing Juleios and pulling him along. Seeing their leader retreat, the soldiers immediately followed, withdrawing in haste.

The Persian cavalry, wielding their bows, pursued them again. Some among them carried Mithradates' body, while the rest pressed the attack on the Greek soldiers. This time, they were smarter, splitting into two groups and flanking Juleios's forces from both sides.

"Watch out for arrows!" Xilos yelled, motioning for the soldiers to spread out.

In the center of the group, the less experienced Juleios hesitated for a moment and was immediately tackled from behind. A sharp groan of pain followed.

"Oliver!" Juleios turned to see the twisted expression on Oliver's face. There was no time to react further before Matonis and Georgilos grabbed both of them, urging them to run in zigzags to avoid the arrows.

"Whoosh! Whoosh!" Over a dozen arrows flew through the air, followed by two screams as soldiers were struck.

At that moment, the relief team arrived. The light infantry vanguard hurled their javelins at the Persian cavalry and charged forward with their leather shields raised. The heavy infantry followed, forming a shield wall to block the incoming arrows.

Seeing this resistance, the twenty or so Persian cavalrymen decided not to press their attack. Carrying Mithradates' body, they retreated quickly.

Juleios finally had the chance to check on Oliver's condition.

Oliver, spotting Juleios, pushed Georgilos's supporting arm away. "Leader... I... I—" Before he could finish, Juleios embraced him tightly. "Brother, thank you!"

Hearing these words, Oliver, who had been gloomy for days, finally smiled. His body relaxed, but the pain quickly returned. "Ah!" he cried out.

Georgilos, fearing he had touched the wound, quickly let go.

"Hey, Oliver," Matonis teased. "Good thing you got hit in the butt. If it had been the front, who knows how loud you'd be screaming!"

"Damn you, Matonis! Think you're so brave? Let's see how you handle an arrow next time!" Oliver retorted, gingerly touching the arrow lodged in his rear.

Their banter lightened the mood among Xilos's squad.

Aside from Oliver, one soldier had been struck in the thigh, and another in the back. Fortunately, the latter had been wearing thick armor and suffered only minor injuries.

"Giorgis, take Oliver and the others to Helpus. Make sure they get proper treatment!" Juleios instructed, patting Oliver on the shoulder. "Recover quickly and come back to fight with us."

"Yes, Leader!" Oliver replied loudly.

The commanders gathered around Juleios, offering congratulations.

"An excellent ambush! We were all worried, but you pulled it off beyond expectations!"

"You've avenged Menon and the others, at least partially. The entire mercenary army owes you thanks!"

"Let's see what Timasion and the others who doubted you have to say now!"

Philesius, Antonios, Kapus, and the other captains praised Juleios, while Amintas saluted him formally. Meanwhile, the clever Asistes brought a horse for Juleios to mount.

The soldiers parted to create a clear path, chanting "Victory!" as they welcomed Juleios back to camp.

"What did you say? Juleios killed Mithradates?!" Timasion's face was a mix of disbelief and skepticism as he addressed the messenger. "This is wartime—spreading false information carries severe penalties!"

"Juleios killed Mithradates!" Xenophon exclaimed. "He came up with such a bold plan and actually pulled it off!"

"That's fantastic!" Hieronymus sighed with relief, adding grimly, "Now let's see who still dares to desert. The Persians lost Mithradates, and they'll surely vent their rage on any deserters."

Cheirisophus listened intently as Tormides described the events in detail. Although he didn't particularly like the young Juleios, he couldn't deny that this operation had been a remarkable success—perhaps even the salvation of the entire army. Cheirisophus understood that undisciplined mercenaries weren't defeated by enemy attacks; the fiercer the assault, the more united they became. It was tactics like Mithradates' prolonged harassment that could demoralize and ultimately collapse the mercenary forces.

Smiling for the first time in a while, Cheirisophus turned to Tormides and said, "Please convey my thanks to Leader Juleios for his efforts on behalf of the entire army. Also, remind him to be prepared—the enemy's retaliation may come swiftly."

"What?! Mithradates is dead?!" Arius couldn't believe his ears.

"Yes, General. His body is outside the tent," a guard confirmed.

Arius hurried out, followed closely by Artauzus and a confidant sent by Tissaphernes.

Mithradates' body had been hastily cleaned, but it was still gruesome. Four or five deep wounds covered his body, and a fist-sized hole in his neck still oozed blood.

Arius bent down to examine the body, but Artauzus exploded in rage, shouting at the returning Persian cavalry, "Who did this?! WHO?!"

"It... it was Menon's soldiers. They..." The cavalry stammered through their account of the ambush.

"You idiots! Defeated by the lackeys of that worthless Menon! You failed to protect Mithradates, so every one of you will receive thirty lashes and be reassigned to the baggage train as laborers!" Artauzus roared.

"Mercy, General! Mercy!" The cavalry fell to their knees, begging for forgiveness.

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Although Arius regretted losing these Greek-speaking cavalrymen, he made no move to counter Artauzus's decision. Instead, he ordered, "Bring me some of the escaped Greeks. I need to question them in detail."

"What's the point of questioning? Kill them all and attack the Greek barbarians already!" Artauzus snapped impatiently.

"After we captured Clearchus and the others, the mercenaries must have chosen a new leader. We need to understand their structure before making our next move," Arius reasoned.

"Fine! Ask all you want. I'm going to avenge Mithradates!" Artauzus stormed off.

Arius shrugged helplessly at Tissaphernes's confidant. Nominally the commander of Cyrus's former army, Arius often found himself undermined by the competing power held by Mithradates and Artauzus, who each commanded their own forces. Now, with Mithradates dead, Arius secretly felt relieved. Unlike the shrewd Mithradates, the impulsive Artauzus would be far easier to deal with.

Although Artauzus was impulsive, he wasn't reckless in battle. Knowing Persian infantry couldn't stand against Greek heavy infantry, he selected 200 mounted archers and 200 foot archers. Leading this agile force, he set out in pursuit of the Greek army.

By the afternoon, the massive Greek column came into view.

"Order the troops to form a wedge and advance quickly!" Artauzus commanded, his eyes gleaming with bloodlust.

The Persian forces targeted Ctesias' rear guard, which had anticipated another encounter with the Persians. Seeing the enemy's numbers were relatively small, the Greeks assumed it would be another attempt at intimidation. While cautious, they weren't overly alarmed.

But as the Persians rapidly advanced, spreading out and closing the distance to less than 100 meters, Ctesias realized something was wrong.

"Prepare to defend!" he shouted.

The words had barely left his mouth when the Persian arrows rained down. Most bounced harmlessly off the Greeks' round shields, but their dense formation and the proximity of light and heavy infantry meant several soldiers were injured—mainly the lightly armored ones.

"Spread out the formation! Heavy infantry, charge!" Ctesias ordered urgently.

Another volley of arrows struck, drawing cries of pain. The ranks began to waver, especially as the baggage train behind them descended into chaos. Guards and porters scrambled to lead panicking oxen and horses further north, trying to distance them from the fighting.

Three companies of heavy infantry raised their shields and charged forward through the rain of arrows.

The Persians immediately began to retreat.