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sicilian campaign game in Berkshire Library, final part 4

 
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Ed Kollmer
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PostPosted: Wed Apr 11, 2012 12:49 am    Post subject: sicilian campaign game in Berkshire Library, final part 4

The day was bright and there was a whisper of a breeze from the coast. Agapelogus’s attention was to his left to the coast. He and his retinue of Carthaginian nobles viewed the field from a slight rise on the otherwise flat plain. He had chosen this plain and this very rise for its commanding overlook of the field. He knew he would command the left away from Leonidas. Leonidas was a dear and loyal friend. Let the Carthaginian Mattilcar face him. This war was not with the Spartans; both he and Leonidas were here by duty, not enmity. Soon his thoughts were brought back to the developments on the left. The young Bomilcar had followed his guidance well. The boy held promise, he mused. I will have to follow his career more closely, perhaps bring him along on another campaign.

Suddenly, the Carthaginian noble to his right anxiously blurted out: “Sir, the center is giving way. The Roman will soon be breaking through. What should we do?” The other nobles moved uneasily about.

Agapelogus turned and faced him and calmly nudged his mount forward. His face serenely viewed the battle. Like a calm in the eye of a storm, he quietly responded half murmuring, “Yes, yes… but have no fear.”

The nobles’ faces were struck with disbelief. Soon they were aghast. Did Agapelogus not see the danger, they thought. They again approached. “Sir, the danger!”

Agapelogus … tranquil as the cool evening breathe of air … merely replied, “Look to the coast.” All turned staring to the sea and there, unnoticed until now, came ships, Carthaginian ships. “Our allies, Campanians from Italy,” Agapelogus stated, unperturbed.

Marcellus still urging his legions on and anxiously eyeing the right for his Gallic cav was diverted, as Gaius anxiously reported, “Marcellus, sails on the coast!”

He whirled to the right and saw them there, ships approaching. “Are they Syracusan or Carthaginian?” he demanded.

After a long pause, the answer came, slow and despondent, “Carthaginian.”

Ever decisive, Marcellus, wheeled his horse. “Move the Gallic Lights to vex the ships and give me time.”

He raised his arms to heaven. “ Give me time, Mars. Time to bring back a legion to destroy this fleet!”

As he finished his prayer, a Greek runner raced up exhausted and fell on his knees.
Breathlessly, he cried, “Leonidas … Leonidas…… Leonidas has fallen.”

Raising his gaze to the left, he saw the Lakedaimonians slowly recoiling and withdrawing, as the far left was melting away. He turned to face the front. The Carthaginian line was folding, his legions pressing forward. Completing the circuit his stare progressed to the far right. Where were his Gallic cavalry? Now this fleet. Now he knew.

“Gaius, sound the recall.” So close, he thought, we were so close.

Snapping to the moment, he looked to the left. “Let us go and hope Leonidas is safe” as he galloped off to the left.

Amid the clash and din of combat, Xenophon urged his 10000 onward. Suddenly, the word came down the line. “Leonidas has fallen”. Blood drained from his face, blanching white. “What? He has fallen?” he stammered. Rotating to the left, he watched as the Spartiates slowly but deliberately fell back.

A messenger from the Allied Hoplites pressed forward, “Phodius, our commander, requests orders.”

Xenophon reluctantly responded, “Break off … and withdraw. Pray that Leonidas will be well.” He strained to look down the line and see anything.

The Carthaginian Nobles of Agapelogus’ retinue were stunned, as they saw the fleet beach and the Campanians start to disembark. Apagelogus sat composed and watched as the battle turned. Unexpectedly, up rode a courier from Mattilcar.

Agapelogus spun around and looked questioningly at him. “What?” he asked.

“Sir, Mattilcar reports that the Spartans are in retreat and their left is collapsing. It seems their commander , Leonidas is down.”

Benumbed, Agapelogus’s stare jerked to the right. “No,” he mouthed, “not Leonidas!”

Snapping to face the courier. “Tell Mattilcar to let the Spartans retire and retrieve their wounded.”

Whirling to another messenger, “Send a message to Marcellus. Tell him that my own physician is available if needed.” Sadly he continued, “If Leonidas dies, we all have lost something this day.”

Somberly he pivoted his mount and trotted back to the Carthaginian camp.


*Chesterton, G.K., Ballard of the White Horse
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