HPLN: Chapter 57

As the Battle of Antipyrgos began, it began with an exchange of missile fire. Bodkin-tipped Arrows fired from Nubian-style Longbows issued forth from our ranks, as the archers I had trained out of the Hunters that lived in the mountains of Epirus and Illyria fired the first shots. Arrows plunged down among the advancing Cyrenaicans, scything down men in their dozens. A second volley was fired after the first, as the Cyrenaicans had difficulty advancing up the slope of the escarpment over the bodies of their fallen comrades, and then a third volley. Finally, the Cyrenaicans' slow advance had brought them into Javelin range of our Peltasts, and even more projectiles, these ones larger javelins, were flung out, slaying even more enemy troops.

By the time the Cyrenaicans managed to advance far enough to get to grips with our Phalangites, Theureophoroi, and Thorakitai, they had lost hundreds of men killed and wounded to the deadly rain of projectiles we had peppered them with as they climbed the slope of the escarpment. Now, as they fought with my men in hand-to-hand combat, they had little chance of breaking our line. After all, they were tired from the climb and bled like a pig from the hail of projectiles. They still fought with everything they could muster, though, and I had to give them credit for that. Unfortunately, it wasn't enough.

Forty-five minutes into the Battle of Antipyrgos, and the first attack of the Cyrenaicans up the slope was repulsed, bouncing off our line and fleeing back down the escarpment, leaving a veritable carpet of dead and wounded men behind them as they fled. I could only smirk when I heard that, not because of the casualties the Cyrenaicans had taken in that first attack, which had to be more than a thousand men, but because I knew that we would win this then unless Magas tried something unorthodox. He wouldn't, though. He wasn't the type to do so, unlike me. Of course, fighting on the slope of the Escarpment was a fairly standard tactic. It was the second part of my plan that wasn't so orthodox.

See, I was hidden with my Kataphractoi behind the base of the escarpment, communicating with the forces up the side of the Escarpment under my son and heir, Ptolemy, via courier. We were waiting for the main attack of the enemy force, as Magas would inevitably have to realize that sending regular-sized assaults on our line wouldn't be enough, and he would have to hit us with everything to have a shot at breaking our line. Of course, such a large attack would require a high-ranking officer to be present personally in order to maintain proper command and control. Given Magas' bold personality, I was banking on him deciding to do that personally. The plan was for my Kataphractoi to ride out around the base of the hill and flank Magas and the main Cyrenaican attack when it came, effectively encircling them on the side of the escarpment.

That attack came two hours into the battle, after three failed normal-sized attacks had left more than three thousand dead and wounded Cyrenaicans behind with little to show for it. Horns sounded as Magas led his reserves into battle personally, his own steel Attic Helm was chased in silver and adorned with golden brown feathers from a Tawny Eagle, and his cloak was made from a leopard pelt. I wondered where he had gotten the helm from, but then realized that it was likely one that I had traded to the Ptolemies early on and which had then been bartered away along with Cyrenaica by Ptolemy Philadelphos after the death of his father. It and the Leopard Pelt cloak, however, certainly fit the Man's ego. He had practically demanded independence for Cyrenaica from Ptolemy Philadelphos, after all.

Regardless, Magas was leading a large attack up the slope of the Escarpment against our main line. This was exactly what we had been waiting for. As soon as his attack was partway up the slope and moving to attack our main line, I charged out from behind the base of the hill, leading my Kataphractoi in a flanking maneuver to close the trap on Magas. A shout went up from the rear ranks of the Cyrenaican Forces as my Kataphractoi charged up the escarpment toward the rear of the Cyrenaican advance. It was too late, however, and all they would achieve by reorienting to face us was to die slower, especially as another horn sounded out from our force further up the slope and Ptolemy charged our infantry downward in a pincer on Magas' force.

As we crashed into the rear of Magas' attack, I plunged my spear through the chest of an enemy Thureophoroi, steel spearhead punching through the lighter, un-reinforced linothorax the man was wearing, linen armor and flesh parting as the spear snapped in half as the enemy soldier went down. I threw my broken spear to the ground and drew my falcata, cutting out at a Libyan Spearman that was trying to thrust up at me, lopping the head off his spear with a hacking cut and slashing down at his arm, hacking through his forearm in a spurt of crimson. He went down, and I was forced to lean out of the way of a thrown javelin from an enemy Peltast even as a second enemy Peltast cut for my thigh with a large fighting knife. I couldn't get entirely out of the way in time to avoid the thigh cut completely. The Pteurges deflected some of the force of the cut, but I still took a glancing wound to my thigh that drew a line of red across the meat of my upper leg.

I hissed as that happened, hacking down at the Offending Enemy Peltast and cleaving into his shoulder with my Falcata, the leather of his tunic parting and his torso rent in half. He fell to the ground, and I was forced to parry a second thrown javelin from the first Peltast. Now, however, I was free to charge forward further, digging my heels into the flank of my horse, wincing from the pain the motion caused in my wounded thigh. My mount surged forward, carrying me toward the First Peltast, who let out a scream as he was trampled by my horse. I cut out at a Cyrenaican Hoplite whose shield bore the image of the silphium stalk of Cyrene on it. He blocked once, twice, three times with his shield, but the fourth attack was a feint, and instead, my Falcata wound up cleaving into the side of his neck, hacking his head off.

Onward we charged, deeper into the enemy formation, even as Ptolemy and the infantry squeezed the enemy from the other side. After another thirty minutes of fighting, however, I saw the leopard skin cloak and silvered steel, eagle feather-adorned helm of Magas flash out of the corner of my eye. This, I knew, was my chance. Bending down in the saddle, wincing at the pain it caused in my wounded thigh, I plucked a javelin from out of the corpse of a dead Kataphractoi that had gotten hit by the enemy, and lined up my shot on Magas. With a prayer to whatever God that the ROB might be impersonating today, I let fly. The Javelin flew through the air, flying true to strike Magas in the armpit as he raised his Xiphos in the air and bellowed out to his men to stand fast, trying to rally his force. His shouting was cut short as my Javelin punched into his armpit from the side, between the iron breastplate and backplate of his muscle cuirass.

Magas of Cyrene toppled from his horse, dead before he hit the ground. At this point, I knew we had won. However, it took another half an hour before the Cyrenaicans finally had enough, surrendering after three hours of battle. In the end, the Cyrenaican Army had lost some four thousand troops in the battle, with another six thousand wounded, roughly a quarter of their forces. The remaining thirty thousand surrendered, as Magas of Cyrene had no Children of his own. As I recalled, he would only have a daughter, had he lived, but that wouldn't happen for another ten years or so. In return, I had lost perhaps three thousand men killed and wounded, with roughly half and half being killed versus wounded. This was a crushing victory for me. Furthermore, my son and heir, Ptolemy, playing such a critical role in it was good for his reputation, and thus, good for the future of the dynasty.

As we marched on Antipyrgos the next day and began to set up siege lines, I sent out a detachment back to Cyrenaica to help take the remaining Poleis of the Pentopolis while my main force finished up in Marmarica. If all went well, we would have Cyrenaica under our control within a month, maybe a little more. As we began to besiege the city of Antipyrgos, however, I realized that the City of Antipyrgos wouldn't hold out for very long. They didn't exactly have the garrison forces to do so. Indeed, after a few days of siege, my scouts came back with a count of perhaps two thousand garrison troops, most of whom were militia or levy hoplites or militia or levy peltasts. In fact, there were only around three hundred proper soldiers left in Antipyrgos. The majority were either dead in the battle of the escarpment or held captive by my army.

After one week of siege, we began to bombard Antipyrgos with the Trebuchets we had built. That, it seemed, was too much for the defenders. After a single day of bombardment, the white flag was raised, and an envoy from Antiprygos came out to ask for terms. The terms I offered were fairly generous. Surrender, stand down their militia, and accept a garrison, and they would be allowed to remain with their lives and property intact and unmolested. Since the alternative was likely to be a lot rougher on the City, the City Fathers of Antipyrgos agreed to my terms rather easily. The siege of Antipyrgos had been successfully concluded after a mere eight days, not too shabby if I said so myself.

After two days of rest and reorganization, on the eleventh of June two-seventy-seven, I prepared to head east into Lower Egypt in an attempt to link up with Ptolemy Kerounos' forces fighting Ptolemy Philadelphos near Herakleopolis, which my scouts had reported was now the new front line, so to speak, of the Brothers' War. If we could link up with Ptolemy Kerounos and attack Ptolemy Philadelphos from the rear, we would probably be able to end this before the Summer heat really kicked in the last week of June, putting a definitive end to all campaigning because of the risk of desert fighting in the high heat of the middle of summer in North Africa.

Even doing this much was risky, of course, but it was a risk with a high reward factor attached to it if we pulled it off. If we could finish this by the time that the heat fully kicked into gear in North Africa around the twenty-fourth of June, then it would be a major feather in my cap, as well as allow us to control Cyrenaica and the main production area for the valuable trade good that was Silphium, all in a single, extended campaign season. I would spend the Summer along the Nile, before sailing back to Epirus with another victory under my belt. I was already planning my sacrifices to Ares, Poseidon, and Zeus Panhellenios as we spoke, which might have been presumptuous, given that we hadn't fully won yet, but which was definitely fitting for Pyrrhus, at least before I had bodyjacked him all those years ago.

As we prepared to advance to what I was hoping would be the final battle of the War, however, my scouts reported a party coming from the east wearing the colors of Ptolemy Philadelphos and bearing a white flag of truce. It seemed that Ptolemy Philadelphos had sent someone to parlay with me. I smirked at that, deciding to hear the envoys out, even if I had no plans to betray my allies.

I didn't know it when the scouts first reported the envoys coming our way, but this parlay would wind up being more than it seemed. . .

XXXX

AN: All right, so here we have the next chapter. Turns out, Magas being brash enough to demand full independence for Cyrenaica also means he was brash enough to lead the biggest attack on the Epirote infantry holding the escarpment personally, allowing Pyrrhus to close the trap on him with his Kataphractoi. Now Cyrenaica is as good as conquered, and a mysterious delegation from Ptolemy Philadelphos is on its way to parlay with Pyrrhus. The delegation isn't what Pyrrhus thinks, though, which is that Ptolemy Philadelphos is trying desperately to get a separate peace agreement with him. As for what exactly it is, well, you're just going to have to keep reading to find out.

There are only a few place names in this one. Antipyrgos is on the site of modern-day Tobruk in northeastern Libya, while Cyrenaica is on the coast of modern-day Northeastern Libya. Hearkleopolis is roughly fifteen kilometers or nine point three miles west of the modern city of Beni Suef in Egypt. Finally, Marmarica would be an area of land straddling the borders of Modern-day Libya and Modern-day Egypt.

At any rate, the next chapter will be an interlude from Admiral Porphyrios' POV, showing the naval attack on Ptolemais before returning to Pyrrhus' POV for the meeting with the mysterious envoys from the court of Ptolemy Philadelphos.

Stay tuned. . .