Chapter 801 Scouting of Sissilpond Ridge (Part-3)
Antonid's force of 1,100 surprise attack did manage to be quite successful, putting quite a few bodies on the ground.
The legionaries were able to maintain their formation even in the rough terrain, while organized rows of crossbowmen from behind shot volleys that softened up their target, as the calvary on the wings, though unable to charge given the short distance and rough ground, were able to use their javelins as well as their higher position on the horses to stab and hack.
All this worked to spread great panic among the Tibians, who in the still slightly foggy weather struggled to truly comprehend the situation.
But unfortunately for Antonid, they did not panic enough.
At least not enough to break rank and run.
For one, Perseus had sent among the best of his men on this scouting mission, for he trusted their intelligence gathering skills the most.
Given the importance of the upcoming battle, the king prudently decided not to take any chances.
And two, Antonid's attack really lacked that strong, decisive punch one needed.
The reason being- as they say, Mass has a quality of its own.
Sheer number was able to negate many disadvantages, like here where due to their absolute numerical superiority the Tibians were able to soak all the wounds being inflicted on them without panicking.
Their dead numbered by a significant amount in absolute numbers, but when taken in the context of the whole force, it was relatively minor- perhaps at best a 2% to 3%.
Painful but manageable.
It also did not help that Antonid's 100 crossbowmen's firing rate was abysmal, as was the nature of the crossbows, hence that withering storm of arrow fire that many might have envisioned during the surprise attack never materialized.
And without these long ranged attacks, the infantry really could hack and slash its way only through so much.
"Form up! Quick form up!"
"The enemy force is weak. They are trying to scare us."
"There are only a few hundred of them. Attack! Revenge our brothers."
Hence soon the Tibians, especially the ones in the back were granted enough breathing room to rally and as the scattered units quickly began to converge, the pressure on Antonid began to increase.
And with every Tibian who joined the fight, it became that scant bit harder for Antonid.
His only sliver of hope was that since these units were scouts, they were not as heavily armored and equipped as the traditional phalangites, in order to not restrict their movement.
But even so, once the Tibian commander managed to get his entire force into a coherent formation, the pressure on Antonid's men increased almost tenfold.
To him the enemy appeared so many and was pushing back on his army with such numbers that it felt like Antonid being drowned in the depths of the sea, the pitch black water crushing him.
His legionaries were barely able to defend against the myriad of spear thrusts and jabs that were coming from all directions, and many lines began to buckle and lose ground as casualties mounted.
And the same story unfolded on the wings so there was no hope of the cavalry charging and coming to the rescue.
They were pinned down by the Tibian's own forces and as the two sides stood in lines and exchanged spear stabs and shield bashes, even at a favorable 1 to 1 casualty raion, Antonid's cavalry due to its lower total numbers son found the losses unstainable.
It got to the point that Antonid even ordered this, "Archers! Bring yourself closer. Thicken the lines."
This referred to the fact that usually, the crossbowmen would stand a bit further back from the infantry lines.
And this was because of the nature of movement during a battle.
Any infantry formation at any point during combat was always moving, be it backward or forward, and this happened organically.
If the enemy pressed on the attack, rather than simply stand one's ground and take, it was far more prudent to simply back up and let the enemy tire itself coming to you.
And when the men eventually tired themselves out, an intense counterattack could have been launched to take the ground.
All this meant that individual infantry units tended to constantly move a lot during a fight.
Hence 'front lines' were never really a literal straight line as represented in all drawings and military doctrines.
But rather a band or layer within soldiers fought.
And all this went on to say that the constant undulation of position was quite irritating for a crossbowman standing right behind the infantry since he would also have to match their rhyme, to keep up.
All while trying to complete his long, tedious reloading procedure.
Thus the method Alexander's army came up with to mitigate this problem was to place these units around 30 m to 40 meters back, thus giving them ample space to reload their bows in peace, as well as the opportunity to look freely and aim their bows correctly.
And though 30 meters to 40 meters might sound like a lot, it really was not as individual infantry units could move literally as far as one kilometer during this back and forth pace dance very naturally.
But now, facing a real fear of the disintegration of his lines, Antonid moved these men to bolster the ranks of the infantry, thickening the lines and giving his men the feeling that they had much more backup.
And then Antonid even commanded his crossbowmen so,
"Shoot! Shoot towards where you think the enemy is."
Yes, the man was so desperate that he was asking his archers to fire even when they were so close in melee.
Antonid knew that his own men would surely take friendly fire if he did this, but at this point, the man was that desperate.
So when his second in command complained, Antonid shouted, "There are more Tibians than us. They will take more bolts than we do."
Yes, such was the desperation.
And then lastly to bolster his men's faltering morale, Antonid rode up and down his very thin lines, shouting and encouraging them with shouts as such,
"Do not falter…. you have taken their greatest city. This is nothing."
"Fight! Push them back! These peasants are no match for you."
"Men! Do not fear! Reinforcements are on the way. I can see them gathering by the foot of the hill. Just hold a few moments longer."
This last one was said in spite of Antonid seeing no such thing.
How could he, the fog was too deep.
But his morale raising speech did work to inspire the men, as they held on believing help was just around the corner.
Though even then, there were several occasions where the situation looked about to turn apocalyptic and was only stopped by Antonid's personal interference at the critical moment, as he quickly sent small groups of reinforcement from other parts of the lines to plug those temporary holes.
Antonid was a very skilled mid level officer, quite renowned among the man, which was also why he earned the right to report to directly to the highest man in the army- Menes.
And here he was showcasing them in the grandest way possible.
But still, no matter how skilled he might be, even geniuses had their limits.
And if Antonid did not get help soon, his men were going to eventually call his bluff about the reinforcements and break.
The three scouts that Antonid had sent downhill were able to make the short journey on their trotting horse relatively quickly.
And as they burst through the gates, one of them immediately started shouting at the top of their lungs to let everyone know of the fighting at the top ridge, urging them to quickly prepare to join them.
While the other two galloped full speed on their horse right towards Menes's camp, hoping to get an audience.
The black general, like many others in the camp, had just gotten up, and dressed in a light tunic when the two scouts found him the man, he was brushing his teeth outside his tent, a twig in his mouth, his mouth blackened with the ash he was using to clean himself.
There was no toothpaste after all.
The sudden appearance of these two garbed in full armor men naturally drew Menes's instant attention, but without letting him even get a single word in, the two scouts jumped off their horse and immediately began to regurgitate Antonid's predicament in as succinct a manner as possible without leaving any important details out.
And finished by saying, "General! Antonid needs help. There is an entire legion of the enemy on that ridge."
"They will break any second!"
At this information, Menes was naturally shocked, as he never thought a single scouting mission would involve fighting 5,000 men.
He even first cursed,
'Dammit! Why didn't you retreat and ask for reinforcement yourself when you were facing five times your number, Antonid? What are you doing fighting so many men all alone?'
But this was not the time to go over Antonid's decision.
Knowing each second was worth in gold, he quickly sent a contingent of 1,000 men up the ridge with the orders to climb it up as quickly as they could without tripping themselves over.
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