The Pillars of Herakles: A Novel of Belisarius (The Last of the Romans Book 4) by William Havelock

Author:William Havelock [Havelock, William]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Havelock Books
Published: 2023-05-15T16:00:00+00:00

Peripeteia

Theudis was true to his word. Septem had its three days and three nights of relative peace, its sole disruption the burgeoning Visigoth army that severed all trade or communication by land. On the fourth day, as the sun rose heavily into the cloud-streaked skies above Septem, that peace was definitively shattered.

The Visigoths did not advance suddenly, nor with any urgency. Neither did my army, which carefully watched each movement of Theudis’ chieftains for any sign of guile or unforeseen stratagems. Some, too, kept a discerning eye toward Mount Abyla, spying upon the movements inside its citadel as Theudesgel’s survivors formed at the top of the mountain. Beyond observing, there was little else that could be done to prepare for the simultaneous attacks, with the only lingering uncertainty being the hour the attack would commence.

“Theudis’ army will strike first, then Theudesgel once the bulk of our forces are occupied by the besiegers,” I told Xerxes and Liberius in Persian. “The most important challenge we have is to keep Theudesgel penned along the mountain’s slope, holding the palisade. If that breaks, even a dozen Visigoths could wreak havoc throughout the city and erode our defense.”

“It will be done, Varus,” Xerxes swore. “Your men have prepared well, and your decision to trust them in their labors is admirable.”

Liberius grinned. “Don’t congratulate Varus yet. It will make his head swell until it can no longer fit inside his helmet!”

“Thank you both.” I nodded. “It will be hard fighting, but I have every confidence we will prevail.”

Crude horns boomed from the interior, the sound both eerily similar to my own advance upon Septem’s walls weeks prior and utterly divergent in its harsh and wavering tone. Thousands of Visigoths emerged from their earthen trenches, forming a tidy shield wall adorned with painted hawks as well as a half dozen other sigils from Theudis’ more prominent chieftains. As others had noted, only a few archers fell behind the ranks of spearmen, and there was no cavalry to speak of.

There was, however, a well-hewn siege ram, a carved stump capped with an unpolished iron spike that protruded an arm’s length from the log’s edge. Likewise, the Goths retained at least two dozen siege ladders—more than enough to assault Septem’s land walls at all major towers and battlements simultaneously. None of this was surprising; indeed, my men had drilled for a chaotic, all-out assault that intended to overwhelm Septem’s defenses in a single blow.

What happened next was entirely unforeseen.

Draped in polished black iron, Theudis seemed to shine in the cloud-veiled sunlight, with only his face exposed to the air as his gray-streaked hair waved in the breeze. As we watched, the Visigoth king raised a hand to fix the iron circlet on his head, lifting the low-sitting crown from his temple and placing it more comfortably above his hairline. Beside the king, I spotted Agila and a half dozen other Gothic chieftains, their bodies similarly encased in expensive scales that signaled considerable wealth amongst the Gothic ranks. The

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