Justinian Read Free Page B

– just when it seemed that nothing could prevent the
Numerus Euphratensis
from being overwhelmed and smashed to bloody pulp – in a twinkling blur of movement the three ranks of Romans suddenly transformed themselves into several long files with wide avenues between. Each column bristled with outward-pointing pikes.
    Elephants, like horses, are motivated by self-preservation. Unwilling to face those screens of wicked blades, they thundered down the escape routes provided by the corridors between the files, and out into the empty gorge beyond. Archers, positioned on the canyon’s lips or on ledges in its walls, now loosed off a deadly sleet of shafts – skewering the mahouts in their turrets, thus annulling any attempt to reverse the elephants’ headlong charge. To make sure they kept moving, groups of soldiers followed, shouting and banging pots and pans from the field kitchen. Returning, as an extra precaution they sowed the ground with caltrops * in accordance with orders from the
vicarius
(orders which the
vicarius
had, however, refrained from divulging to his commanding officer).
    Once more the Persian trumpets sounded. The
cataphractarii
formed up and began to trot forward – a glittering wall of iron, the bodies of both men and horses invisible beneath carapaces of armour. The huge steeds werecovered in trappers of scale or chain mail, their chests and faces further protected by moulded plates. Their riders’ limbs were encased in laminated bands, their bodies by articulated plates, while their globular or cylindrical helmets – stippled with holes to permit breathing and vision – gave them an unhuman appearance. The trot changed to a canter, the canter to a gallop, and down swung a row of lances, presenting a terrifying sight to the waiting Romans. For a second time that day, it seemed impossible that they could avoid being swept to destruction.
    Then, at a signal from Roderic, Victor again blew his whistle; the
campidoctores
bellowed orders and the Romans thrust forward those long, long pikes, butt-spikes firmly anchored in the ground, to form an impenetrable thicket of points.
    A charge by massed cataphracts should have proved irresistible. Protected by stout armour, both horses and riders were invulnerable to spears, and the massive weight of a cataphract formation was virtually guaranteed to smash through any line of infantry rash enough to stand against it. However, borrowing a tactic employed with tremendous success by Alexander in his Persian campaigns – the phalanx – the Romans had hit upon the one stratagem that could provide an effective counter.
    Like a wave breaking against a cliff face, the cataphracts crashed against the wall of pikes – a wall in which the weapon of every man in the triple line was brought to bear. The Roman infantry, each soldier gripping his pike-shaft several yards behind the point of impact, experienced a collective jarring shock, but to their enormous relief (not unmixed with surprise) their ranks held firm. If presented as separated units, the pikes would have shattered, but opposed to the enemy as a solid mass, their effect was to diffuse the force of impact by spreading it over a wide area. Again and again the cataphracts re-formed, to hurl themselves against the hedge of blades – to no avail. At last a trumpet blew recall and the cataphracts withdrew to make way for the Persian infantry.
    Where heavy shock troops had proved unable to break the Roman front, it was hardly likely that foot-soldiers – lightly armed, whose only protection was a wicker shield – would fare better. And so it proved. Constricted by the narrow gorge, they were unable to bring their overwhelming numbers to bear. Pushed forward by the momentum of those behind, the foremost ranks perished on the pikes to form a growing heap of dead, over which the living were forced to clamber. As the Persian advance began to stall, the two Roman leaders