Warhorn

by J Glenn Bauer

  “I will just take the bastard with us when we storm the place.” Caros had finally raged.

  The following day, Caros rose near noon, eyes filled with crust and breath like a barrel of sour wine. He staggered into the blinding light and heat of a late summer afternoon and dipped his head into the leather satchel hung there to wash in. His stomach roiled and his head hurt, but these things mattered little to him on this morning. Late in the night and after much wine, he had resolved his feelings and emotions and now planned to hasten this siege to destroy the city and save Ilimic. Calling for food he ducked back into the tent and dressed for battle. A short while later a young boy arrived with a bowl of cheese, olives and figs. A large pitcher of fresh milk accompanied the meal and Caros ate and drank it all while standing before his tent, staring at the last hurdle to his love.

  CHAPTER 26

  ONCE AGAIN, THE ARMY was in position before the walls of Sagunt. The men digging the trench below the walls reported huge cracks occurring through the wall as they undermined the foundations. They could do no more without becoming crushed when the wall fell. Now they pulled back from the walls, leaving only the two rams to batter the already thrice-reinforced city gates. The Saguntines had worked furiously to throw up palisades directly in the mouths of the two gates, so that when these did finally give way, Hannibal would be confronted by yet more defences.

  Caros strode forward and glared at the wall as though willing it to fall. Even the defenders on that section knew it was going to collapse soon, but still they remained in their places. An ambitious warrior shot an arrow that struck the dirt paces short of where Caros stood. “Why the hell will it not fall?” He cursed.

  Behind him, Hannibal’s army stood ready to sweep through the breach the moment the wall fell. They had stood to the moment the diggers had reported the cracks opening. Now the wall had seemed to heal itself.

  Neugen approached him with concern featuring strongly in his face. “Caros, you’ll be struck down standing out here. The wall will fall soon enough.”

  Caros swore under his breath, but seeing there was nothing more he could do, turned back to their lines with Neugen. Still his thoughts were a jumble of ideas on how to knock down the wall. He was considering the prospect of taking the rams to the weakened portion. The command guards suddenly stood taller before the lines. Caros was just deciding he would need to remind them not to put on airs like that for him when he sensed Neugen next to him falter. Caros turned just as the ground trembled. A rumble of falling rock, brick and timber followed by a billowing cloud of dust swept across the no man’s land beneath the wall. The dust rolled over Caros and Neugen and then over the ranks of Bastetani, Libyans and Africans. The wall was breached and judging by the amount of dust, the breach was no small one. He caught Neugen’s eye and the two warriors stared for a moment at one another with unspoken thoughts. They both knew their roles in the coming battle. Neugen would lead the Bastetani and Caros would search for the place Ilimic was held and release her.

  From the walls of the castro, Abarca watched the gathered army beyond the second wall. Reports had reached him advising that the second wall was undermined and would soon fall. Berenger stood beside him and stared hard at the wall that still teemed with defenders. They were ordered to remain in place till the last moment.

  “Commander, will you lead our warriors in the coming battle?”

  Berenger dragged his eyes from the wall to stare at Abarca. “When the wall falls, Hannibal’s men will be all over the city by nightfall. What exactly do you expect me to do?”

  Abarca smiled tightly. “They burned the outer city because we made them pay for every doorway and alley. We can do so again. The walls of the buildings down there are stronger; we can fight them from the roofs again. I agree they will gain the city, but then they will face the castro. We can sue for terms and they will agree if we make them pay a high enough price down there.”

  Berenger looked back at the city below. There was some truth in Abarca’s words, but if he went to lead that battle it would only be until he found the opportunity to escape the city. He had no intention of dying here for the Greek merchants and the twisted priest or his lunatic sister. He had seen their rites performed every night for the past month, each more gruesome than the last. A woman, usually just a girl, was taken from the slave pit below the shrine to Catubodua. The mob of warriors and town’s people bayed for the blood sacrifice to receive the aid of the goddess. It was there that the Priestess performed the sacrifice while her deviant brother pranced in the blood that leaked from every slice made and pooled on the altar’s stairs.

  He thought of the woman his Captain had persuaded him to sell to the temple. He wondered if she had also met her fate there on the bloody alter. He felt weak with horror at what he had done. It had seemed a small thing to sell her at the time. He shook his head, unused to the feeling. Perhaps there was time for atonement? “I’ll do it.” He answered Abarca finally. “I’ll do this thing, but know this Strategos. This is my last act in defence of Sagunt. I shall not return here.” Berenger turned away even as in the distance the wall lurched and toppled.

  The warriors defending the wall cried out in terror as they felt it lurch just once under their feet. Many ran to escape down the stairs and others seeing they had no time flung themselves as far as they could from the fast crumbling structure. The wall then folded and broke apart, shattering and falling to pieces in a roiling storm of dust and screams. Hundreds of men perished in moments as they were crushed under the wall, while hundreds more were horribly injured with crushed limbs and torsos, or buried and trapped under the rubble. In moments the stalemate ended and the final phase of the siege descended on Sagunt. Already the warhorns of Hannibal’s army were sounding. The sounds were reminiscent of the long keening of hungry wolves preparing to hunt. Then came the roar of an army that suddenly sees the enemy. The Saguntine men, women and children paled and trembled. They had done all they could to forestall this day, even to following the high priestess’ invocations as she offered the goddess the blood of maids.

  The warriors converged in the streets and on the roofs to fight this last battle. They would sell their lives dearly and die with honour and they knew their women would make the final sacrifices of their children and themselves rather than be taken.

  Caros spun about and issued the command to advance. Turning to Neugen he finally allowed a brief smile. “Well my friend, this is it.”

  The two men clasped their right arms firmly and shook. “To battle then! Let the swine pay for every woman and child murdered and for Ilimic. Do me a favor Caros, try not getting yourself speared?” Behind them the great army advanced towards the walls.

  “I don’t intend dying my friend, but should Endovex call for my spirit this day, I expect you will still tell jokes at my expense.” The friends laughed.

  “I hope Aksel keeps himself safe.” Neugen muttered.

  Caros nodded in agreement as the advance ranks arrived behind them. Caros turned and smiled at his front ranks. He raised his shining falcata and in one deafening roar, the entire Bastetani contingent of their three thousand best warriors roared.

  “Claw of the Lion!”

  Neugen grinned and while Caros turned red, it was not what he’d expected them to shout. Reluctantly he smiled in acceptance, if his men wanted to follow a hero, so be it. Sweeping his blade forward, the Bastetani plunged towards the dust, rubble and defenders. They swept through the choking cloud and raced over the shattered rock and brick. Resistance was offered by only small pitiful bands of warriors who had somehow survived the collapsing wall. The Bastetani mercilessly hacked them down.

  From his vantage point, Hannibal watched his army surge forward. To his left the Bastetani surged towards the collapsed wall. Beside them were the Masulians, on foot and led by the minor chief Aksel. His center column consisted of Liby-phonecians who would scale that part of the wall not yet fallen. Likewise, the column to the right, led by the African contingent, carri
ed ladders and was racing to scale the wall at their front.

  The defenders would have surged towards the breach, reducing their numbers on those parts of the wall still standing. They would soon realise their blunder. Between his columns he had positioned the archers and slingers who now let loose their missiles in waves at any defender rash enough to peer over the parapets.

  Beside him Maharbal hissed in anticipation as the ranks of Bastetani disappeared into the dust cloud, following Caros. He turned to Hannibal. “I believe the Bastetani warriors will need all their strength today to remain at his side.”

  “He refused to ask me for aid, thinking I would not learn of the girl. It makes me respect him even more, but I fear for him. The battlefield is not the place to be distracted by personal agendas.”

  “His men will fight to the death beside him if needs be and it was a wise move to place the Masulian contingent beside the Bastetani. The two forces seem to work well together.”

  “The troops follow the example of their leaders and everyone can see Caros and Aksel are close friends.”

  The two Generals watched as the army struck the walls, throwing ladders up and scaling them wherever the wall still stood. The cloud of dust was settling and a breach of about a single stadion in width could now be seen, wider than Hannibal had even dared to hope. It was only fitting that Caros lead his Bastetani through the breach brought about by his plan.

  Over the rubble and onto the street, the Bastetani poured. Their war cries augmented by the clamour of their warhorns. Before them appeared the first signs of cohesive resistance. Saguntine warriors had formed a shield wall and were steadily advancing towards the breach and the incoming Bastetani. Behind Caros the Bastetani adopted the plan that Caros insisted they use when they next found themselves attacking a breach. Archers immediately swarmed to high points along walls and roofs, their ranks bolstered by warriors assigned to protect them from counter attacks.

  In the streets below, the Bastetani cleared every building from top to bottom, as they drove forward. While this slowed up their advance, they were relatively secure from surprise attacks in their rear. The archers sent a hail of arrows at the oncoming shield wall while the warriors hurled their javelins. Under this cover Caros led his front rank into the fight. He drove his shield hard against a wide-eyed, screeching warrior and forced the man to stagger back a step. Then he deftly hooked the man’s shield rim with his own and pulled it aside while thrusting his sword into the warrior’s exposed armpit. The falcata sliced through the muscle and severed the artery there with a spray of blood. The warrior screamed and sank defeated to the street where he was torn apart as the Bastetani broke apart the shield wall and overran the defenders.

  Caros spied more defenders gathering down every street. He checked the rooftops and was heartened to see Bastetani warriors and archers occupying those positions. To his left he heard shrill ululations and the clash of blades and shields. The Masulians were into the fight now as well.

  “Right fellows, keep close and get the shields up. We’ve got our men on the roofs so the bastards won’t be raining rocks on us this time!”

  “They are coming at us from three sides though Caros.” Neugen observed.

  Caros did not want his men held up defending their small gain into the inner city. His instincts screamed to attack them relentlessly and by doing so, keep them from staging any counter-attack. Privately he wanted to cut his way through to where the deserter told him Ilimic had been taken. His face contorted into a mask of fury at the thought, but first he had a duty to his men.

  “Neugen I want the breach held at all costs so get a dependable Captain to hold it with five hundred men including archers. If the enemy counter-attack, it’ll be from the right.”

  “No problem. Which way we going?”

  “I want you to take a thousand men up to the left and keep in contact with Aksel’s Masulians.”

  “They’ll make slow going, they are lightly armoured and the Saguntines have everything down to greaves.”

  It was an observation Caros had also made. The Saguntine warriors were well equipped, the city had clearly prepared for war. “That’s why I want you to keep an eye on them. We cannot afford to be encircled like the Libyans were.”

  “You are going right up the middle aren’t you?” Neugen stared at Caros, knowledge of his friend’s thoughts showing in his eyes.

  Caros smiled thinly. “Straight up the middle.”

  The shield wall moved slowly forward up the winding street, allowing their archers to keep pace on the roofs above. At a crossroad before them, another hastily contrived barricade of furniture, gates and loose timber had been thrown together. Caros heard yells from above them as the archers shot a volley at some unseen defenders. Pounding footfalls echoed from the roofs and then the clash of arms. Moments later an injured warrior toppled from the roof and struck the cobblestones hard, his legs twisted unnaturally beneath his body. An archer, one of theirs, Caros thought. Abruptly the fight above ended and a voice called the all clear to them in Bastetani.

  Caros ordered his shield wall forward. “Faster now. Charge!”

  Leading from the center of the front rank, he leaped at the waist high barricade, braced a sandalled foot on it and launched into the grim defenders behind. Spears thrust at him, but he batted these away and slashed and hacked with his blade. He feinted for the defender to his left and swung his sword instead at the warrior to his right. The feint worked and he scored a slash across the man’s knee. A spearhead clanged off his cuirass and another blade pounded into his shield. He kicked furiously at his attackers and jabbed his own vicious blade at a warrior’s face. He seemed surrounded by the enemy for long heartbeats and could do little more than keep them at bay. However one of the Saguntines turned his attention for a second to ward off a blow by a Bastetani warrior and Caros quickly seized the chance to stab his blade into the man’s side.

  A hairy-knuckled hand suddenly gripped the rim of his shield and pulled it down, exposing Caros to a plunging sword. He twisted violently to avoid being skewered and found himself spinning his attacker into a press of the enemy. The collision knocked them off balance and Caros used the momentum to slash and hack two of them before turning his attention to the heavyset warrior gripping his shield. Caros hacked at his own shield with his blade and sliced off two of the warrior’s fingers. With a curse the warrior released the shield and danced back. Caros lunged into the warrior and plunged his blade into the man’s groin and sawed it deep into his body. The barricade was taken.

  “Hold! Hold!” Caros shouted breathlessly as his men started after retreating Saguntines. “Wait for the archers damn it! Hold!”

  His men paused and fell back, chastened. He found himself struggling to pull his falcata from the body of the warrior he’d just slain. “Aarg!” He screamed in frustration and twisted the blade, his left foot holding the dying man’s body still. The blade tore free and the warrior grunted and coughed up blood. Caros stared in horror at the scene. The man’s tear-filled eyes locked on his fallen sword and his hand clawed for the weapon. Caros kicked the sword across the cobbles towards the man who clasped it with a grateful look at Caros. He coughed a river of dark blood from his mouth and expired with a liquid sigh. Caros wiped drool and blood from his face. He bent forward, elbows locked into his knees, catching his breath and suppressing the urge to throw up.

  The Bastetani were tearing down the barricade and throwing pieces aside to clear the street. An arrow struck a length of timber as a warrior lifted it. His comrades laughed as he cursed and dropped the timber. Shamefaced, he too laughed. So easily men become inured to war and death, Caros thought, even as another arrow rattled off the stones at his feet, almost unnoticed by the labouring warriors. Regaining his senses and breath Caros hollered. “Archers sort those bastards out!”

  A young archer peered over the side of the nearest building, “Sorry Commander! Out of arrows! More are being fetched to us.”

  “Make it quick a
nd don’t let that happen again.”

  “Yes Commander.” Flushing with embarrassment, the archer disappeared.

  His men strove to please him he noticed and any reprimand was taken hard. Something he’d need to address in the future with them.

  “Leave the barricade, take some water. We’re not going anywhere till the arrows arrive.”

  Gratefully his men sank against the cover of the adobe and stone buildings. Caros sent a runner to the rear. He could no longer hold off. They had fought their way, street by street, into the heart of the city and from the latest messages he knew Aksel’s men were at their limit. Neugen had sent a runner to Caros just before the assault on the barricade, advising Caros to hold and consolidate or he would be in danger of pulling away from Neugen and Aksel. His men would hold here. Libyans were now also coming through the breach. They could come forward and relieve the Bastetani who had broken more shield walls today than most warriors did in a lifetime.

  A Bastetani warrior, arms bulging with muscles, came up the street leading the bound deserter. Throwing the trembling man to the street before Caros, the Bastetani warrior grinned. “He couldn’t wait, pissed himself with excitement and all.”

  Caros stared at the deserter. Time to learn where this place was that Ilimic had been taken to. “Do you recognise this place?” He asked brusquely.

  The deserter glanced about, blinked sweat out of his eyes, looked again and nodded. “Yes, I know it. I can lead you to the house.”

  “He’s a deserter, a coward Commander. He’ll lead us into an ambush. He’d sell his mother for another day of his miserable life.” The huge warrior muttered grimly.