Son of Zeus-Ammon: Throne of Darius 4 by McLaughlin Mark G

Author:McLaughlin, Mark G. [McLaughlin, Mark G.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-12-01T00:00:00+00:00

* * *

“The king calls for us!” Neoptolemos called out as he raced back down the backside of the artillery mound toward where Nicanor and the Hypaspistes stood. “General Nicanor,” he said, a bit out of breath as he came to a halt in front of the commander of the foot guards. “The king calls for us. He wants us to form a wedge – and I am to be at the point, with a ladder.”

“A ladder? Just you?” Nicanor asked.

“Well, I don't know,” the soldier replied a bit confused by the question. “He told me to get one, but I suppose if some of the others...”

“Yes, of course, Neoptolemos. Go grab a ladder, and tell the officers to have every tenth man carry one as well. The king wants us to scale the walls of Gaza, and it is about time he sent for us!”

“Sir,” Neoptolemos said just before he ran off to tell the others, “it's not just us he wants to scale the walls – he's coming with us, too.”

“Good gods!” Nicanor groaned. “Damn it! When will he realize he's a king and not a bloody guardsmen. As if getting my men into Gaza is not going to be hard enough,” he muttered, hoping no one else heard, “but now I've got to watch his royal ass as well! Guards!” he shouted, pulling his sword out of its scabbard and raising it high so all could see, “prepare to advance!” And then, two breaths later, he gave the word they were now waiting for, “advance!”

Nicanor led his men up the sandy slope that Gorgos and the miners had reinforced with stone and timber. When they reached the top, they could see the artillery crews struggling to keep up as rapid a fire as they could. They passed runners who raced down the hill, calling for more quivers of arrows and more purses of lead bullets for the Cretan archers and Rhodian slingers who, along with Philip's crews, were doing their best to force the defenders of Gaza out of their towers and back behind their walls.

Nicanor paused for moment, gave the order for his men to dress ranks, and looked intently down to the right and then back to the left, to make certain that the guards were formed up and ready.

“The guard will advance! Advance!” Nicanor said in his best and most booming parade ground voice. And forward they went, past the crews, through the bowmen and slingers, and down into what had become a man-made valley. Neoptolemos was right next to him, ladder held firmly in both hands, as they stepped over the dead and dying men of the first three waves. As the guard began its difficult ascent up the slope toward the breach in the wall, Nicanor heard more men running up behind him, the king among them.

“Steady on, Nicanor, that's the way to do it!” Alexander said as he came up next to Nicanor and the big guardsman. “Head for the middle of that breach.

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