The Non-History of Mauretania: A Europa Barbarorum AAR

[MisterFred]

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania/TitlePic.jpg
by Stenu Turditanikum

[Ch.1]

It wasn't until the second major battle fought by the Army of Mauretania that I began to seriously contemplate the future of my people. The creation of the army itself could have been a footnote in history. Might still be a footnote in history. Fifteen years earlier, war had broken out between the Lusotann and Carthage.

Carthage had made the first move, sending a large army north out of Mastia that pretended to advance on Arsea, when in reality their plan was to assault Baikor from the north. It almost worked, but bandits fleeing from a force broken by the Carthaginians warned the Lusotann chiefs in Baikor in time for them to call in reinforcements from nearby Sucum-Mugi. The Lusotann in general were experiencing a rare moment of prosperity, enjoying the returns from considerable mining investments. The Lusotann found just enough cash to hire a contingent of allied Iberi spearmen. A group of Massiliotes was also convinced to join in the city's defense in return for concessions in the tin trade.

I knew much of this even then because the Lusotann had hired my cousin to help begin their mining industry. Later, Lusotann sub-chiefs told me of the desperate days of fighting in the streets of Baikor. Hasdrubal had put together a thoroughly professional force and thoroughly loyal force of Liby-Phoenician infantry and Cavalry supplemented by a few Lybians, all of whom fought in the style of the Hellenes. At least six divisions of infantry and four wings of cavalry surrounded the city and constructed four great battering rams. The Lusotann fought back with little more than a hail of javelins. What few armored units they had would engage the Liby-Phoenicians while ambushers and raw levies poured out of nowhere to throw point-blank at exposed backs. A legend began that the Lusotann gods ensured every javelin thrown found its mark in four days of ugly street fighting. Even so, a veteran of the battle told me a few Liby-Phoenicians had fought all the way to the city center before the last of the chiefs' bodyguard cavalry sallied all the way out of the city to strike Hasdrubal's personal bodyguards from behind, through the gaps in the city wall made by the Carthaginians themselves.

Given the fierceness of the fighting in Baikor, what's remarkable is how swiftly the rest of the war in Iberia went. Bereft of Hasdrubal's leadership, the Carthaginian nobles in Mastia spend every dime they had raising troops. But in their haste, they were taken by Greek agents, who promised a vast phalanx and sailed away leaving the Carthaginians with a host of the poorest Greeks and Phoenicians in Iberia. Only a few Iberi tiribes - and all small tribes at that - were foolish enough to side with the Carthaginians. The first great slaughter of the Carthaginian reserves occurred outside of Baikor.

The Lusotann caught the Caraginians trying to rush over the mountains from Mastia before the exhausted city could be relieved, and the lusotann's hastily levied light spearmen, caetrannan, and the ubiquitous ambushers shocked the chiefs by being far more professional than the militias and hordes of akontistai fielded by the Phoenicians. A decisive victory by the Lusotann embolded them and increased the local Cartaginian panic. The Lusotann army marched right past Baikor, and chased the fleeing Helleno-Phoenician host over the mountains and met a far larger army outside Mastia.

But this army was no better equipped. The Lusotann loosed every javelin they had, and then closed for more. The bodyguards slew fleeing men at will while the Carthaginian force seemed to only have three shields for every hundred men. To this day they say the crabs on the coast by Mastia still have a taste for human flesh. After a brutal sack, the city would resist the Lusotann no more.

Gader was also doomed. The Spartan Xanthippus had been sent by Carthage west in order to keep him out of the city's politics, and he took most of the professional African troops with him. Siga, a Phoenician colony on the outskirts of Maure territory, meekly acknowledge Carthage's dominion, and Xanthippus used this base to cut a bloody path across the Mauretanian coast. With their hoped-for reinforcements across the sea, and mindful of the atrocities at Mastia, Gader essentially surrendered at the approach of the Lusotann army. [The garrison was so small, auto-calc lost me only 30 men.] To no avail. The Iberians butchered the inhabitants anyway, killing the Greek and Phoenician men and male children in the city and proceeded to set fire to most of the town, including the market, granary, temple, and government buildings. Phoenician power was literally exterminated in Iberia, and I doubted they'd want to go back.

I was not a popular man at the time. From my father Bodin's holdings in the foothills of the Atlas mountains I had convinced the mining towns and herdsmen not to answere the general muster issued by Lixus as Xanthippus closed in. Even many of the local men considered my actions treasonous, and I was forced to go into hiding. But without organization, little gets done. So the hillmen did not go to war. We had no counter for the Phoenician cavalry in those days, before we learned to merge our raiding parties into a single fist capable of fighting on a battlefield.

Lixus fell quickly and the Cartaginians were merciful to the non-combatants, although they slaughtered the army to a man. Local opinion of me went up a notch as most of the hotheads realized I'd saved them from a similar fate. Xanthippus installed Phoenician administrators in Lixus and marched south in orderly Spartan fashion to Sala, intending to finish his conquest of the Maure of the Atlantic. I took the opportunity to buy up or simply assume control of land owned by Maure who had died resisting Xanthippus. It was a busy time for me. Most of my authority had come from my father, Bodin. I was born when he was already elderly, the first child from his second wife. But also the first son. I was doted on, taught to manage the family businesses, and was running things in my father's name when he was killed by, of all things, a rockslide near a cavern where we liked to gather large snails for village feasts.

But then the hill lands looked to me for leadership again, for no one had risen to challenge my prominent position when the last thing anyone expected happened. The Lusotann invaded. Sailing out of sight of Carthaginian galleys posted at the Pillars of Hercules, a leaky, creaking barbarian fleet landed next to Lixus' city walls, disgorged a Lusotann army, and they promptly laid siege. Apparently expecting a longer war with Carthage, the Lusotann had issued a general muster and raised large numbers of Northern Skirmishers with the promise of loot and plunder. Failing to have enemies in Iberia to fight, and fearing of expanding elsewhere because of the Romans (who were at that time wooing the Greek coastal cities with offers of 'protection'), the Lusotann sailed south with their army, two younger sons of Latronus who were seeking lands, a fat boatload of Phoenician coins taken from Mastia and Gader, and Latronus himself, their aging high chief, who was looking for one last glorious campaign.

Xanthippus knew how to march though, and abandoned his siege of Sala, returning in time to relieve Lixus. The Lusotann, for their part, hired the few Maure bands who had fled into the northern mountains after their earlier defeat at the hands of Xanthippus. Now they got their revenge. They held the weak Lusotann left, otherwise manned with too few veterans. They held until the Lusotann chieftains rode around the battle into the Carthaginian rear and broke the Carthaginian forces pushing back the northern iberian skirmishers. Still, the veterans and Maure were wavering under the vigor of the assault of Xanthippus' Spartans themseleves until a tide of Lusotann javelins from commoner and noble alike craished into the Spartans' backs.

Now the Lusotann held Lixus. But Maure are not Phoenicians - while hardly poor, we didn't have the riches the Lusotann had come for. To our relief they peacefully "liberated" the city without looting and set up a pupped government under Ti Sagun. With Lusotann funding, Sagun organized the Maure for war. But the Lusotann chief was old and impatient, and his sons needed lands not owned by Maure "allies." They marched east after little more than a year, which is a short time to reorganize a broken country. Once more I held the hillfolk and upriver country back. If the Lusotann wanted to play at war, let them. I didn't want to be there when they faced the full weight of the anti-Barcid wrath at the invasion of an Africa they regarded as theirs and theirs alone.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania/Sagun.jpg

Hiring eastern Maure along the way, the Lusotann had nearly 16,000 Maure allies [population totals multiplied by a factor of 20, so this is 4 full strength 200-man units] marching with nearly 20,000 Lusotann, most of whom were Northern Iberians. As they marched along the coast, the finest Carthaginian elites were marching west along the inland route behind the coastal range, intent on reconquering and punishing Lixus.

Which I thought was no good at all. I had businesses and holdings in the area, clients who could be ruined by a foraging, vengeful army. So I hired two teenagers to tell the Carthaginians about the Lusotann heading east along the coast. They did their bit, and picked up a few coins from the Carthaginians as well, and the advancing army turned back. The Lusotann were delyaed by a large reserve army of Numidians, opportunists hoping to find land in the chaos in Mauretania [Akontistai], and a smattering of inferior African mercenaries hired by the ever-cautious Carhaginian pay-masters in Siga. Without proper leadership, this reserve army was slaughtered wholesale by the Lusotann, in particular their Maure allies, who tore into the Numidian infantry. The Maure knew why the reserve army was preparing to march east. It was a stunning blow for the Carthaginians in Siga, who watched the Lusotann army gather outsided their walls with something approaching horror.

But they needn't have feared. The minor Carthaginian family member leading Carthage's own troops attacked the Lusotann force from behind, trapping them along the coast. Carthage had spared no expense in seeking to regain control of Lixus. Three elite divsions of African pikemen, and a division of mercenary greek pikemen centered their line. Their right flank was held by a unit of Sacred Band infantry, their left by solid Libyans. Numidian archers and skirmishers protected the slower troops.

It was a desperate battle. Half of the Maure lured the Sacred Band away from the flanks. Soon after, the other half broke the Greek phalanx. The Lusotann swarmed around the elite African phalanx, ignoring Numidian attempts to stop them. Javelins pounded into the backs of the phalanx while the young sons of Latronus and a few veterans trapped the Carthaginian general and killed him. But still the pikes held. So did the Sacred Band, which stood back to back after being outmaneuvered and shrugged off every attempt to break them. The African phalanx stood up to the javelins, but began to waver when surrounded by every last Maure and Iberian left, under attack by spear and sword.

Latronus himself, still spitting fire at sixty-five, led his picked men into the back of each 'elite' phalanx in turn - and stayed hard on the attack until they broke and died to a man. But the Sacred Band refused to die, a few Numidians had yet to flee the field, and Captain Whatshisname from Siga had sallied out, and finally reached the battle with his light city guard and Sardinian mercenaries. The bows of the Sardinians were telling, and the few remaining Northern Iberians fled. Even the Latronus' sons abandoned him. The old warlord himself died on a Sardinian spear after breaking a unit of Sigan militia. The Maure were the last to flee the field.

No one from either army would cross the river west - I made sure of that. Enough men had been organized to watch the fords, and I had no desire to see Lusotann or Carthaginians in what I was already staring to think of as my territory.

Technically a victory for the Carthaginians, the first battle of Siga crushed any attempt to re-invade Maure lands in the near future. For the Lusotann, the battle was an utter disaster. Iberian troops in Africa were utterly wiped out. Their high chief had died in battle, and his two younger sons, including the chosen Lusotann heir, had died ingloriously, attempting to flee the battlefield. The Lusotann avoided political chaos by turning to the eldest son of Latronus, Ambron Lusotanakum. But there was a reason he had been passed over as heir. Ambron was dumb, and he was a religious fanatic. Some called him reverent, others hugely supersitious. To make things worse, he was fascinated by outsiders, a drunkard, and the people loved him. Part of him was a Talented Leader. But most of all, he was a worshiper of the Bandue, spirits of the land.

At first Ambron looked to the Hellenes to fill his lust for the strange and exciting. He led and army to Arsea and sat outside the city for two and a half years, finally agreeing to let them keep their status as a Hellenic Free City - as long as they surrendered and allied themselves to the Lusotann. [The AI didn't sally and the Greek type IV government building wasn't damaged so I kept it. Weird, eh?] But in the end, the Hellenes are no more than normal men who like to read overly much and tell off-color body hair jokes. So Ambron looked to the Bandue spirits that talked to him in his head, and to other seers and delusional people like himself. And he dreamed of the holiest place in the Bandue's fantasy land, an emerald isle hidden in the ocean to the north.

As the other Lusotann nobles tried to protect the treasury from the massive ship-building program Ambron began, they also had to deal with a new neighbor. Rome had been trying to convince the Greek city states to fall under her protection ever since she assumed control of Massilia. Not long after Arsae was forced to ally with the Lusotann, a large Roman garrison was sitting in Emporion, "protecting" its inhabitants. As you might imagine, the Lusotann had forgotten all about "Mauretania" - their own creation. But Ti Sagun, governor of Lixus, had not. He was a true leader, at once a poet and a capable bureaucrat. Even as the Latronus was heading east to his doom, Sagun was mobilizing Lixus on a scale never before seen by my people. The entire population was militarized, new weapons foundries were, well, founded, and Sagun funded it all by installing "trusty" Maure customs officials in Gader and Mastia in order to "help" the struggling Lusotann ruling class.

[MisterFred]

[I started a new campaign and chose Lusotann because I was tired of breaking mass phalanx armies. The settings were put to VH/M and I went at it. Early results were mixed, as I easily took Tyde and Sucum-Mirga, but failed to take Baikor with my remaining men. Once I made it out of bankruptcy, I raised a new army, went bankrupt again, and took Baikor and the two northern towns. Pretty much straight economic development after that until Carthage attacked. I had absolutely no plans to do an AAR (hadn't ever done one actually) until the disaster outside of Siga where I lost three family members to those #($&#(& phalanxes and having nowhere to retreat :). When I realized the new traits my faction leader had and looked at the Lusotann goals, I decided an invasion of Ireland was an absolute must! The problem is, the Romans were already besieging Emporon - they took Liguria quickly, started west, and never looked back, so what do I do with my mobilization of Mauretania under type IV governments? Well in any rational world, the Lusotann would stop giving a crap about their client kingdom and shut down the war against the Carthaginians.

And then suddenly I didn't want to play Lusotann any more. I wanted to play Mauretania. And that was a cool enough idea (and mostly likely, a short and brutal enough adventure) that I figured it would make a good AAR. I hope you agree. I also apologize for the shortage of images.

As I say, this isn't exactly planned. To this point in the story its pretty much a normal game except that I generally play with fog of war off since I like to watch the AI on the other side of the map. In this one my east is craaaazy! Heavy fighting on all fronts (well the Palahva are peaceful with Bactria and the Saka... so far... but everything else is a free-for-all scrum), Pyhrros actually HELD Pella (omg wtf) and the Arverni have held Galatia several times. Oh, and Carthage is holding Kyrene... peacefully! I'll include a known world map next chapter when my screenshots catch up to my story.]

[Ghaust the Moor]

Great start so far. I am really intrested to see where this is going. Non-factional AARs are always fun in my opinion. I'm in fact starting a new one now. Please continue this if it please you and don't let lack of comments get you down. Now, as is my custom, I present you with this balloon :balloon2: For starting an AAR that features a Non-Factional force ie. Mauritania. Good luck with this AAR and I shall be watching....always :evil:

[MisterFred]

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania/TitlePic.jpg
by Stenu Turditanikum

[Ch.2]

I still didn't believe this new Lusotann client state would last long, but Ti Sagun believed in "Mauretania" with every ounce of his being. It's easier to do that when the failure of your idea will probably mean your execution, I suppose. Sagun believed the Carthaginians would be coming, and this time it would be with fire and rape, regardless of whether the people had been behind the Lusotann puppet state. He put his capable and darkly humorous lieutenant, Abulos, in charge of Lixus and personally stormed Sala, ending that city's neutral withdrawal from northern Maure politics. And then Sagun did it again. He militarized every able-bodied man in the city and the coastal plain, creating the largest army this part of the world had ever seen.

And the Carthaginians did come, just as Sagun had predicted. They came with little pillage by the coastal route. Their surprisingly peaceful march was in part a result of my covert efforts to provide sufficient supplies to their army as long as the Carthaginians paid for grain rather than stole it. While Sagun was mobilizing to the south, Lixus' new stone walls were surrounded and besieged. The Carthaginians, knowing the Lusotann were absent, had brought a balanced force of respectable strength, the sort of force they had been using to subdue African nations for years. Led by a minor family member, there was a range of Numidian troops, professionals from Carthage fighting in the Hellenic manner, a few Maure from around Siga, and even a few Garamantines from deep in the interior. And Sagun came up from Sala with the entire Army of Mauretania, and utterly crushed them. Fighting for their homes, with the advantage in numbers and morale, and with Sagun's bodyguard employing anti-cavalry tactics learned from the Lusotann chiefs, the Army of Mauretania won a smashing victory outside of Lixus.

And then something even more unexpected happened. Sagun called me to Lixus, talked with me for days about the Lusotann, Rome, whether this Bandue-infested Eire really existed, about the Greek and Lusotann invasion of the Baleares from Arsea, and especially about the Carthaginians. he admitted he was master of the Maure Atlantic coast but had no skill in the hills or in marching armies into foreign lands. And then he took me to the walls of Lixus and we looked down on the Army of Mauretania and he asked me to lead it east. To conquer Siga and points beyond. He offered me money, titles, and land, and his Lusotann lackey - yes, technically it was supposed to be the other way around - promised the Lusotann would back everything Sagun said.

So I agreed.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania/Stenu.jpg https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania/LibyanGeneral.jpg

As I took control of the army, I began to realize why Sagun had trusted me enough to give me command. He had little choice. The organizational demands were staggering. Officers had to know you, and I was a fellow member of the nobility. Quarrels had to be settled. I had led the hill country long enough to know how to be a judge. Money had to be managed... vast amounts of money, even in just supporting the largely unprofessional ranks of the army. And it had to be fed. Always fed. It is difficult to comprehend what a great huge locust an army is. If you've ever heard an army marching, it is the great sound of thousands of cows, pigs, goats, and sheep mooing, grunting, squealing, pulling grain wagons, and being slaughtered by the army's butchers. I had many clients who were herdsmen... and there was no doubt I was going to have to press them for a large part of their stock just to maintain the Army of Mauretania as it ate its way east. I was the natural choice to lead the army, but I suspect Sagun was not happy with that fact. We made remarkably good time, taking the inland route half way to Siga before heading to the sea to go around the larger coastal range. I worked day and night to provide the army with everything they needed to, well, keep walking. It was hard to imagine anyone else making the journey as quickly.

I met a second Carthaginian army as we approached the coast from the interior road, of a similar construction as that which had recently invaded and penetrated all the way to Lixus, although this one was spear-headed by some elite Liby-Phoenician infantry, marked by their heavy armor and helmet plumes. I used the same swarming and javelin tactics as Sagun had employed outside of Lixus, and utterly crushed them.

Victory is a heady feeling. Maure are new to large-scale set piece battles, and it feels like the gods themselves are empowering you when you win. The troops themselves are infected by the same feeling. As the enemy approaches you see only their great mass of men, and little of your own lines. A sense of hopelessness can be difficult to avoid... especially when recent history has seen men just like you annihilated by men quite like them in a place near this one. But when you win... when you step over your mangled and torn foe, when you watch them run from the field, see the terror in their eyes and your own fear drives you to chase them down, hunt them, just to make sure they don't turn back and do everything you've been dreading for months since you joined the army... new men are forged. Warriors. Veterans. No longer are you a simple village boy... now you are one of those men that change the world.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania/MaureInfantryUnitCard.jpg
https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania/FinishUnitDescrTXT.jpg
[these stats and the libyan general stats are both from units with two chevrons and no equipment upgrades]

The high of victory... and victory far from these men's homes, where they are the aggressor, was so strong I had to to restrain the ardor of the troops when we took Siga. In the aftermath of the victory on the coast, the army had marched so swiftly and with so much purpose we reached Siga before the Carthaginians thought it was possible. The city was being organized as the staging ground for a larger Carthaginian effort, and a unit of elite African pikeman held the town alongside the ordinary Sardinian and Numidian garrison. I had on my side, numbers, the advantage in supplies, and a vast advantage in morale. But I had few scouts. Local Maure had guided us as we moved east past lands where I had personal influence, but the coast beyond Siga was an unknown quantity. Did the pikes we saw over the wooden palisade have friends marching closely even now.

The safest course of action seemed obvious: take Siga by storm and occupy it. With a significant Maure population within the walls, even Maure who had become used to living under Carthaginian dominion, we could rest in a friendly city and begin civil administration and the development of a proper scouting screen for the army. I ordered three wooden rams to be constructed. Some Garamantines of the interior I had hired along our march were surprisingly helpful in this regard. I'd employed the mercenaries in part to be sure they didn't raid my lands while I was away... given their experience with simple siege equipment my suspicions that the Garamantines were broken men from Carthage's armies seem to have been confirmed. But if they didn't know which end of a javelin to hold, they had a small shield, and could push the ram and absorb a few Sardinian arrows that would otherwise hit a Maure warrior.

The men carefully followed my battle plan, and most of the defenders were killed at range, with a javelin or two marking their corpses. Even the phalanx fell in this fashion, although it took some time to bait it out of position and move their shields out of the way. With casualties at a minimum, and the Army of Mauretania once more victorious, our attention turned to administration. Karbalos, a supervisor of miners who throught of himself as cultured because of his association with Helenic traders, was installed as governor. A member of Sigun's team in Lixus, I assumed he would be well-suited to the job, although I personally disliked him. This had more to do with his insistence that I provide horses for an honor guard much like mine than any real question of his ability, so in the end we worked well together.

In fact between the two of us, I was perhaps less capable as we organized the countryside around Siga. Although I had enough contacts among the rural Maure - and they had enough contacts among the non-Maure natives - to ensure a smooth administration, military matters were a different problem. After resupplying the army and replacing casualties with Maure from Siga happy to be out from under Carthaginian governorship, I moved the army east, both to ease the food pressure on the land around Siga and to watch for the Carthaginian response. Local rumor held that the famous Carthaginian general Milkpilles was advancing from the interior, rather than along the coast from Carthage. Milkpilles was the terror of Garam, Numidia, and all the other formerly independent tribes. A staunch anti-Barcid, his response to any hint of discontent at being conquered was brutal reprisal. Although a lot of local rumor may have been based on hatred of how effective militarily he had been. He was, without exception, Carthage strongest possible response to African opposition.

I advanced confidently to meet him. There seemed little the Army of Mauretania couldn't face, and a victory over his army in the interior, near the very lands he had brought under Carthaginian control, could potentially cause a widespread revolt against the Carthaginians in the interior and even among the Numidians. That is I marched confidently until Milkpilles advanced with exceptional speed from the interior and off the coastal range. Expecting to meet him on the other side of those mountains, I was suddenly faced with a hard choice. Continue advancing, and meet Milkpilles on what was effectively neutral ground, or risk lowering the moral of my army by turning and running for Siga, where the advantages were in my favor. As Milkpilles' clear intention was Siga, and every scout brought back reports of another fearful element of his army, including eight elephants, my mind was made for me.
https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania/MilkMainUnitCard.jpg
https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania/MilkElephantUnitCard.jpg
[Even though the Carthaginian heir is also in the army, Milkpilles was the general, which I thought was notable.]

The Army of Mauretania marched for Siga the next day, our rear scouts reporting the sun's glint off of shiny shields and polished spear-points. I pulled Siga's garrison into my army
https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania/ArmyofMauretaniaUnitCards1.jpg

and directed Karbalos to continue to raise fresh levies. Pulling back all the way to the coast, I wanted to give as much time as possible to the incorporation of the new men.
https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania/SigaUnitCards.jpg

Milkpilles, if he advanced on my army, would be slowed by raiding parties issuing forth from the city and I could plan my response. If he stopped to construct siege engines, I could again choose my avenue of attack and relieve the city.

But Milkpilles had other, more direct plans. The morning after my army completed our camp next to the ocean, frantic messengers galloped from Siga screaming of elephants at the walls, tearing them apart. Milkpilles had ignored my plans, marched right to the city, and looked like he intended to keep on going. I rushed to get the men out of bed, onto the field, and marching south to save the city.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania/SigaBATsummary.jpg
[I really did not expect that.]

It was as I rode south, willing my nervous men on faster that I pondered what this battle meant for the future of my people. This was to be the second important battle fought by this Army of Mauretania, the second in which a loss meant disaster. The first had been under Sigun, outside the new stone walls of Lixus. It established as fact Sagun's militaristic mobilization of Atlantic Maure. A loss there would probably have meant the occupation of Lixus and Sala by Carthage. A loss now, after so much death and the depopulation of the cities would mean the end of Sagun's rule as a Lusotann client, and possibly the end of urban existence for my people. A victory would mean... well, now, there was a question...

[Ghaust the Moor]

Dang. Your effeciant XD

[MisterFred]

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania/TitlePic.jpg
by Stenu Turditanikum

[Ch.3]

Two of my best-armed units were sent into the city by the gates closest to us. The army itself would make better time marching through the open land to the east of the city. Our tactics remained simple, especially as I had little time to plan a detailed strategy. By some miracle, we were within sight of the Carthaginian host when their elephants finally breached the wall. The great mass of the army approached the Carthaginian host in a line perpendicular to the southern wall. The few Numidians we had recruited since taking Siga added weight to the line at the top of the hill outside of the city. I positioned myself there as well, ready to counter any movement by the Carthaginian cavalry. I could see Karbalos, or at least his honor guard, making a daring sally at the sight of our approach, issuing from a gate little more than a javelin's throw from the elephants themselves, and the infantry approaching the breach.

As the elite of the Carthaginian infantry rushed the breach, or at least some sort of troop wearing plumes, it was difficult to tell at this distance, the Carthaginian cavalry charged the southern end of our advancing line at the top of the hill. I sucked in my breath as I noted no less than three bodyguard contingents, as well as a full unit of Liby-Phoenician professionals. The Numidians fighting for us disintegrated almost immediately, those that weren't instantly killed running away in terror. My Maure, brave souls, charged the enemy after releasing a wave of javelins. Although they were spared the brunt of the charge, the dead bodies of the Numidians before them must have been a difficult sight.

I spurred my mount to a gallop as I swung around to southernmost edge of our line, prepaing to charge Milkpilles' bodyguard myself, my flag bearer ordering our flank to follow. The screams of horses deafened the crash of our charge, and we fought spear to spear with the enemy, blood splattering everywhere. I thought I caught sight of who must have been Milkpilles himself, trying to turn his mount away from murderous javelins released by more Maure surging up the hill when...

Ow. PAIN. An arrow shaft pierced my left shoulder. Something tore when I turned to look over the same shoulder and my vision flashed white for only a second. Struggling through the pain I could see Sardinians. Running Sardinians. At me. Running Sardinians poking spears at my horse, which is screaming and turning south to run into the trees. My world has shrunk to my shoulder, and for the moment, the horse seems to have the right idea.

[Milkpilles' army approaching Siga from the south.]
https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania/SiqaCarthArmy.jpg


An excerpt from Thucydorus of Leontini's [I]The History of Africa, Book 9.

Students of military and political matters alike, not that the two can truly be serparated, should take note of the second battle of Siga. The Maure horde, as I have demonstrated, had pressed the Phoenicians as far as this coastal town, in fact exceeding the temporary gains of the combined Iberi and Maure barbarians only five years previously. Yet despite the barbarians' brief control of the city, the inadequate size of the interior garrison in the face of civil revolt, and the reasonably large Phoenician population within Siga, there was no help for Milkpilles' army from the citizenry.

The lack of such an action, or even the show of an attempt to support Milkpilles by citizens hoping to come to prominence as a result of a Carthaginian victory, exposes some of the weaknesses in the otherwise remarkably efficient policy Carthage employs to control other Phoenician colonies. A governor, almost always Carthaginian, not just Phoenician, is put in place to direct the city overall, in addition to mass numbers of harbor officials, clerks, and other personnel which ensures, with little exception, strict obedience to trade edicts issued by Carthage, as well as the prompt payment of duties and assessments. Moreover, in a failed attempt to turn local Phoenicians into Carthaginians, despite the state's own active separation of the two populations within government, some governors insist on changing the dates and customs of local festivals and sacrifices to match that of Carthage. Although in other respects their administration is generally benign, these two policies, one necessary, one not, reduce the patriotism of the local Phoenician population. A necessarily less capable barbarian government is actually preferred by many of the less-educated and learned populace, as it is not efficient enough to impose unwanted restrictions and regulations.

Turning back to the battle itself, strategists may be surprised to hear that both armies split their forces, choosing to emphasize neither the battle outside the walls nor the battle around the breach in the city's walls. The garrison, surprisingly well-led by the green but enthusiastic magistrate Karbalos, had succeeded in throwing the elephants back from the walls with the skilled use of javelins natural to the Maure people. This forced Milkpilles to properly support his elephants with covering fire, which delay allowed Stenu's forces to engage the Carthaginians before they significantly penetrated the city. Strategists reviewing the actions of the two armies might argue that this split of their forces by both generals, to the point where the combatants nearly engaged in two separate battles was arguably a mistake by both armies, but in actual fact this result is understandable for reasons I shall soon reveal.

Before I continue with the battle itself, however, allow me to take us up and look down on the situation from the point of view of the hawk as it were. The dispositions of the two armies at the start of the battle were as follows: Milkpilles deployed nearly 40,000 infantry, which was a mix of Carthaginian professionals, allied tribes, and mercenaries, in the usual Carthaginian fashion. He also employed an usually strong cavalry wing, nearly 7,800 horse, almost all of which were of a heavy type from Carthage itself, the allied tribal nobility having been depopulated by Milkpilles himself during the previous decade. And of course, he had eight elephants. However, these were of the smaller African type common to Carthaginian armies, and as they take several casualties in the breach of the city wall, the beasts played surprisingly little role in the actual fighting. Milkpilles stationed the bulk of his cavalry outside the city, where it could do the most good, on the high ground overlooking the battle. His elite Carthaginian troops, the best of his Greek mercenaries, his Iberian troops, and the allied Garamantines were sent to force the city. The Numidian allies, the professional infantry, the Sardinians, and the weaker Greek allies aligned themselves to face the relieving barbarian force, with the stronger troops and the Sardinians supporting the cavalry, the weaker sections of the line stretching north to the city wall.
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For their part, the barbarian horde is estimated to have numbered 56,000, the bulk of whom were Maure tribesmen, but also 13,000 allied African tribesmen or mercenaries. The native horse, fighting as chiefs or sworn men to the two Maure leaders, numbered only 4,500. The infantry was stretched in a typically disorganized barbarian front from the city walls up the top of the hill south of town, with half the cavalry on the left wing and the other half still within the city. Siga also held a scant few thousand infantry as a garrison.
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Readers should begin to understand the dramatic changes occuring in African warfare prompted by the creation of the Maure government by Ti Sagun. The escalation of warfare demanded more men, and while this battle involves only slightly more combatants than the previous confict at Siga which I have already related to you, I am compelled to point out again that this current conflict did not include a foreign invasion of Africa from Iberia. In fact, before this time all the most famous battles on this continent were a result of the invasion of Africa by outside powers, as occured in earlier wars between Syracuse and Carthage and the Lusotann and Carthage. The second battle of Siga marks the first time an all-African conflict involved such a dedication of resources. Even the infamous Mercenary War involved fewer men, or at least smaller bodies of men spread out over a larger area.

Returning to the event at hand, Milkpilles, having made himself familiar with the tactics of the Maure, set a clever trap for the inexperienced barbarian leader, Stenu. Opening the battle on top of the hill by charging with most of his cavalry, Milkpilles drew the Maure commander into an attempt to protect his lines. Milkpilles, however, had brought up infantry behind the screening line of his cavalry, in a fashion which prevented the Maure from observing the maneuver. Surprised by the assault of the Sardinian infantry and the unexpected ardor of the Carthaginian cavalry, the Maure cavalry around Stenu, and in fact the barbarian leader himself, routed utterly. Milkpilles himself, in addition to many of Carthage's finest cavalry commited to the trap, also perished in the open stages of the battle, trapped by the javelins and swords of the on-rushing barbarian main force, which was advancing at considerable speed.

At this same time, lesser Carthaginian nobility had been appointed command of the various forces fielded by that great city, and Karbalos, the Maure garrison commander charged his own cavalry outside of the city in an attempt to route the northern edge of the Carthaginian line by means of a spirited charge into their rear. With the opening action taking place far from the rest of the battle, and hidden as well by elevation and natural vegetation, and there was the curious occurence that the leaders of both armies had either fled or died on the field of battle, and yet few men in either army actually noticed, and in fact continued fighting with all the determination and valor suitable to a confict of such immense importance. Nevertheless, the reader can begin to understand how easily the rest of the battle disintegrated into chaos and a remarkable degree of viciousness and brutality.

The most notable figure left on the battlefield was in fact Karbalos, an administrator and governor who had been early forced to plead with Stenu for an honor guard to mainatain his standing in the city. He proceeded, in that surprising way unknown men sometimes do, to shine with valor and ability on this day. Although, given that we know him to be a barbarian wise enough to take the effort to make himself familiar with Hellenic culture through contact with traders and diplomats in Siga, one should hardly be surprised that he proved exceptional. [Cultured.] In any case, his charge out of the city into the rear of the weaker Carthaginian forces was wholly successful, although we might also marvel at the valor of the barbarian garrison, who remained to face the elite of the Carthaginian army even as their leader abandoned the city.

Nevertheless, trapped between the charging Maure main force and the reckless advance of Karbalos, who many said looked possessed by the spirits of Hades that day, the weaker section of the Carthaginian line retreated in haste towards the rest of their compatriots, or even broke all together. Karbalos, even then not knowing of Stenu's cowardly flight, immediately set about directing and organizing the Maure horde near the city walls. The vast majority of the infantry he sent rushing into the city, hoping to stem the inexorable advance of the toughest Carthaginian troops and Greek mercenaries. Only those men too distant to arrive in a timely fashion were sent to charge up the hill into the other battle developing on the field. Karbalos himself, tireless and determined, was wise enough to charge south as well, as any educated commander knows cavalry is of greater use in an open field than within a city. Nevertheless we must give credit to the barbarian for flexibility and awareness given he was technically in command of the garrison. Thus we can see how the battle, at first a nearly orderly affair, quickly devolved into two disorganized masses of combat, which style of conflict, I must insist, favors the barbarian warrior over the civilized soldier.

While the battle on top of the hill was truly one to shake even the most determined veteran, we should turn our attention now to the battle within the city where the fighting was, although one hesitates to acknowledge such a thing is possible, even fiercer and more savage than that which was going on outside the city walls. The Maure were desperately trying to contain the advance of the Carthginians, whom they rightly feared would massacre the inhabitants and possibly set fire to the town.

For their part, the Carthaginians were enthusiastically following the last orders given to them by the late Milkpilles and surging through the gap in the walls created by the elephants. An elite unit of Liby-Phoenicians led the way, advancing in a manner reminiscent of the oldest hoplite tactics, in relatively open order and choosing between spear or blade as circumstances demanded. Although many Carthaginian experts criticized the arming of such a unit as obsolete, more suitable to the First Persian War of ancient history than modern conflict, it should be noted that the success of the Liby-Phoenicians against the Maure warriors speaks to the continuing viability of such tactics against barbarian opponents. participants of the battle claim the unit killed as many as five times their own number of barbarians, without the benefit of a flanking force.

Even as the Carthaginian army poured through the breach in the wall, Maure warriors organized on the field by Karbalos also poured into the city through the southern gate, providing enough fresh bodies to stem the tide of the Carthaginian advance. A Greek mercenary phalangite who survived the battle, although we won't venture to ask what unmanly trick he resorted to in order to ensure his survival, recalled looking to his right as he waited to move into the city and seeing a similar line of Maure charging into the city in identical fashion, just outside of throwing range. The maneuvers of the army so mimicked each other that one can nearly imagine Karbalos directing the reinforcing Maure to copy the Carthaginian movement.

Unable to dent the heavily armored front of the Carthaginian force, the Maure within the city nevertheless managed to hold out until their countrymen gained the advantage outside the walls. Eventually the Carthaginians, bereft of capable leadership, failed to support their failing infantry on top of the hill, and allowed their cavalry to be entangled by the Maure center as it charged up the slope. Karbalos must be given much of the credit. Unflagging, he must have nearly worked some of his horses to death as he swung all the way around the fight to hit the Carthaginian infantry from the south, before pulling back and charging again at the Carthaginian noble horse in a classic use of light horse free to work havoc on a battlefield. And, even more than his heroics, when the test finally comes, the morale of men fighting for the chance of pay and plunder fails before the morale of those fighting for their very existence, for their families, and for the hopes of their entire people.

In this way the Maure fought without regard for personal danger and, after driving away the Carthaginians outside of Siga, fell on the rear of the Carthaginian force in the city, blocking their very avenue of escape by surrounding the Carthaginians struggling to enter through the breach. Even still, the battle did not end until the Carthaginian host was completely vanquished, in a bloody struggle in which no quarter was asked, and none given. The brutality of the fighting can be seen in the casualties. Less than an eighth of the total Carthaginian strength escaped the battle outside of the city, while the Maure, victors in the battle, lost upwards of 22,000 men.

I must take a moment, despite the breathlessness of the occasion, to comment on the foolishness of both commanders. Generals today almost invariably wish to follow in the footsteps of Megas Alexandros. While such ambition, if it is matched by effort and ability, is laudable, the educated general might be better off deciding not to lead from the front, and especially not from the point of the charge, as Alexandros did so ably. Although such great feats are occasionally necessary, for mortal men to engage repeatedly in such actions is suicidal folly. Without total certainty that he has the favor of the gods, the wise general will lead safely from the rear, where the men may not love you, but will receive the greater reward of your guidance and counsel...

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[Sadly, this is the point when I thought to take a few screenshots. This is most of the hilltop battle. Although there are several more bodies to the left of the picture, they were hidden in trees. Note how close the breach in the wall is to the gate and imagine both being used by opposite forces to rush into the city. As I said, it was a chaotic and weird battle.]

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[The mass of dead from the battle within Siga proper. You can also see the results of the less populous, more free-flowing battle that took place outside the city but not on the hill.]

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[This is the farthest penetration by Carthaginian forces. Note the green bodies, the Liby-Phoenician Elite. Those bastards were the first in the door and stood strong through the entire battle. Half of them only died when the whole army group finally routed because of the mass casualties and the fact they were surrounded. You can see the dense line of Maure bodies where they held their ground against all the reinforcements I poured into the city. It was particularly annoying to see my men brutally abused by them since I think the unit is generally crap for its cost. I've never been happy when I've recruited them or ever seen the AI use them effectively before.]

[MisterFred]

[I got really lucky when I played this battle. In order to get my line into position for the main fight, I used javelins to stall the elephants. I could have just slaughtered them and forced Milkpilles to retreat without a way to breach the walls, of course, but given the archers in his army, I just couldn't live with that RP wise. So I was going to try and rout the elephants and hope they regained morale before I got myself positioned. Instead, I got lucky and bugged them out after the initial two volleys, which killed 4 of them. Maybe because I got the one that was moving in to start head-butting the wall. They milled about for awhile without routing... long enough in fact that I totally forgot about them as I lined up my army until a video of the wall being breached popped up just as my battle line was about to engage... the AI finally sorted out the elephants on its own, and set up my forces exactly where I wanted them. Although I didn't plan to get my general nearly killed in the first freaking skirmish... but the Sardinians really had been moving up through trees and I didn't notice them while I made sure Karbalos didn't get jumped as he moved out of town... I thought my cav had infantry support against his cav. Oops.]

Thanks for the encouragement Ghaust. I like the forum ability to show you views in addition to replies. It helps in the motivation. As far as my efficiency, I actually wrote out quite a bit before I first posted. Enough that I was reasonably sure I wouldn't start it and end it immediately, as so many do. Not that I'm guaranteeing I'll finish, but I'll at least get somewhere...

[Albath]

Cool! Invading Africa has always been a Lusotannan pastime when I play, and I'll like to see where this goes!

[MisterFred]

[I love the pace and feel of warfare in Africa. In my opinion it really is the 5th major tactical region in EB (the others being Western Greek Phalangite, Iranian-Baktrian Phalangite, Steppe, and Western European) the pace is fast, with a lot of units far less specialized than those found elsewhere, but who generally have a few different capabilities that make them very flexible. And the stamina on a lot of these buggers is impressive... many times against Greek-style troops I've marveled at how the Maure seem to grow in strength the longer they fight, as the Greek-style troops tire and the Maure don't... even when the Maure had to run much longer to reposition themselves a few times. Long story short, I wanted to give an overview of the rather limited unit selection in this area for those unfamiliar with African warfare, so people can better understand who does what in an army and what those units represent historically. Readers already familiar with the African regional units may find this reply boring - no storyline is involved.]

[Maure Infantry - Technically a missile unit, one of the perks of the Maure is that they carry a considerable number of javelins (I think 6) and are capable of skirmish mode. Moreover, African javelin units (like Iberians) have longer range than the peltasts, gund'i'palta and legionaries most players are familiar with. But the real strength of the unit is that they're credible sword infantry. They have the sword attack of capable medium infantry (1 less attack than Northern Gallic Swordsmen with the same lethality... better in fact than Polybian Princeps, who have 2 better attack but far less lethality). Their main drawback is a less-than-stout defense... but even its not that bad, 3 armor and 3 shield give some resistance to frontal arrows, and the 200 man unit size (huge) means they have enough bodies to take a few hits. Like many African infantry types, Maure have low mass, so they do get pushed back... but they still dish out appreciable damage while they appear to give ground and they certainly have morale enough to hold a line. Historically, they represent... well... the Maure, and potentially another tribe or two with the metallurgical ability to mass-produce swords. Aesthetically, they're darker than all other units save Nubians and Ethiopians with a reddish tinge that goes well with their bluish-grey elephant hide shields, an effect I rather like. Their shields in particular are extremely distinctive on the battlefield. They can be recruited in Lixus, Sala, and Siga, and are available as mercenaries in west and central Africa.]

[Garamantine Infantry - To new players, these seem at first almost indistinguishable from Maure Infantry, but they are generally less capable and serve very different roles on the battlefield. The Garamantine are spearmen, but they are hardly a defensive unit. In fact, they're best used primarily as flankers or late-arriving cavalry support. While the Garamantine have javelins, they have far fewer than the Maure, and are not naturally a missile unit (they have the throw javelins before charging action going on). While their attack is high (14), or at least higher than similar-costed troops, about the same as Theuroporoi or Classical Hoplites, they have terrible defense. With 0 armor and only 2 shield, the Garamantine are prime arrow fodder, and they definitely aren't strong enough - or brave enough - to hold a line. But they are fast - so they are excellent at flanking or reinforcing cav vs. cav battles. Again, low mass = no push. Aesthetically they wear rather bizarre fur capes that are showy and completely impractical, but somewhat fun looking. Orange is their color of choice, it comes from everywhere on the unit. Close-up screenshots look ridiculous, as the Garamantine hold their spears while at rest in a grip natural for an overhand thrust or javelins, but they use an underhand thrust in melee combat, appearing to strike with the butt end of the spear and flailing about dangerously behind themselves with the pointy end. Historically they represent not only the Garamantines, but other deep interior peoples and massed semi-civilized or hunter-gatherer types. They can be recruited in Tuat, Garama, Lepki, and Kirtan (but mainly Tuat and Garama, where no other melee infantry is available), and are available as mercenaries in the west and central African regions.]

[Numidian Slingers\Archers - Fairly basic units of their type, the archers are pretty capable for the west of the game map. They're essentially Persian Archers with a little less range but a much better melee attack (a club with low attack but armor piercing and respectable lethality). The slingers are pretty basic. Aestheically, Numidian troops are heavily invested in light brown, and the archers have the cute floppy-rimmed hat. Like all the other "Numidian" units, historically they can represent any non-Carthaginian African tribe fielding ranged troops - and arguably are more likely than not to be so, given Numidia's heavy reliance on cavalry in foreign wars in the EB timeframe. They can be recruited in Kirtan, Ippone, and the three Maure cities. They also appear as mercenaries in both recruitment areas, but without a super-fast respawn rate.]

[Numidian Skirmishers - Another good African javelin unit, their javelins hit harder than most other javelin types, with the African longer range. They've got a decent melee attack too, with a spear that gives them almost exactly the same offensive power as Arabian Light Infantry, and they even have a smidge more mass than most skirmishers. With decent morale, and the typical excellent stamina and fast movement found on desert types, they have a usefulness beyond their ammo. Defensively, they're pretty vulnerable. Representing African javelin troops from any tribe, not just Numidians, they can be recruiting anywhere west of Kyrene, and are available as mercenaries in both regions, but only rarely.]

[Greek-style Infantry - This and a professional navy is what makes Carthage, Carthage, and not another African tribe. Carthage can recruit Libyans (Theurophoroi), Liby-Phoenicians (Classical Hoplites), and Poeni Militia (Levy Hoplites). The comparisons aren't direct - for instance the Liby-Phoenicians fight in a much more open order than Classical Hoplites and have a little less morale, but they're similar enough that the comparisons hold. Aesthetically, these units are white and off-white with tan and rust-colored highlghts and have big shields and are equipped with a linothorax. They are not available as mercenaries, but a large number of actual Greek troops are available as mercenaries in the central African recruitment zone only.]

[Carthaginian Elites - Three main units, the Liby-Phoenician Elite Infantry, a small extremely open-order hoplite unit that is well armored with a heavy shield - they can turn to armor-piercing axes in a pinch. Not super-effective. Very Green. Sacred Band - HEAVILY armored and shielded close-order hoplite spearmen and all around incredible bad-asses. Silvery-White all over. Elite African Pikemen - Carthage's elite (and only) phalanx unit. Pain in the ass... well armored so even javelins from the rear have limited effect. Capable swordsmen from the flanks too. These units are all Carthaginian homelands only.]

[Gallic, Iberian, and Italian mercenaries - a limited selection in the central recruitment district.]

[Numidian Cavalry - This comes in two flavors, noble, and the type you actually see on the battlefield. Second-to-none Javelin\Spear Cavalry with the powerful and long range African javelins. Fast, lots of stamina, and a surprisingly capable melee attack (like the famed Gallic Light Cavalry, they have an extremely high lethality). Next to no defense. They're an offensive power on the African battlefield not least because their high speed and the low mass and open order of many African infantry units means that after a charge they'll frequently continue that cool little constant-motion cavalry maneuver that is so rare in EB. They're also pretty effective against heavier cavalry, both in melee for cost and in simply running them around while throwing javelins. The regular type have next to no armor and defense aside from Cantabrian Circle, the nobles have decent armor and a sheild. Libyan Generals are essentially Numidian Nobles with one more melee attack. The nobles are recruitable in Kirtan, Adrumento, Lixus, and Siga, the regular type anywhere in the region. Again, this is because they represent cavalry from any African people, with the nobles limited to areas with respectable urban (and non-Carthaginian) populations. Tan, Tan Tan. The non-noble version recruitable as mercenaries mainly in the central African region.]

[Carthaginian Cavalry - All slower than the Numidian cavalry, the Carthaginians field three types, all based on the charge. They are the Liby-Phoenician shield-and-spear cavalry (less charge, more surviveability, red with metallic highlights with brown horse), the Carthaginian Citizen cavalry (good two-handed lance charge, but only a linothorax, brown horses with white armor), and the Sacred Band cavalry (heavy armored two-handed shock cavalry and bodyguard, black horses with polished steel and purple highlights). Carthaginian homelands and subjugation only.]

[Elephants - African Forest Elephants are my favorite of the elephant units, because they aren't as back-breakingly expensive and you get a lot of them (24 on huge and no expense for ranged infantry on platforms). Vulnerable to counterattack and especially most native African troop types. Light grey with a rider on the neck and a blanket or banner on the sides with a little palm image. Historically, they represent the smaller extinct elephant species that ranged in northern Africa before the Sahara shrunk too much to sustain them. This species was far more trainable than the bad-tempered African Bush Elephants which survive in sub-saharan Africa to this day. Given their natural range they should, frankly, be available to most factions as a regional MIC lvl 5 unit- which they are currently, but only for the Romani and Saba... Carthage can build them in a native barracks in Carthage itself with a native lvl 3 barracks, which really, doesn't make a lot of sense - the elephants would have been found farther west or south. In real life these were most heavily used by the Ptolemoi, then by Carthage, then by Rome in the civil wars, in EB you'll generally see them pop up in rebel stacks in the whole region.]

[Whew, that was a lot more detailed than expected. The keys to remember are multi-purpose troops, with low mass and light or no armor, but unmatched speed and stamina. And the best javelins in EB. Yeah, better than Iberians :).]

[MisterFred]

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by Lina Utrana Sagun, Matriarch of the Utrana clan, and wife of the High Chief of Mauretania, by the grace of Oxtraca, Ti Sagun.

[Ch.4]

Ti dearest had come up from Sala on business when I found myself entertaining Cardocca again. The two events were connected, of course. Ti had pulled himself away from his dreadfully boring work in the south, dealing with diplomats and strangers and generally convincing the more distant tribesmen that they were Maure too... which must have been hard, as it is such a naturally suspect proposition. But while he waist-deep in discussions about concessions to the south and worrying with the men about the depopulation of the cities and the increasing tendency of lower class women to insist they had a say in the running of the cities - only natural with all their men gone to war - Ti could be found.

Which is why Cardocca came with several of his Lusotann bodyguards pounding on my door yesterday morning. "Sagun! I know you are in there! Do not think that I am Saluch, who will sleep with your whores and do your bidding! You will not hold councils without me, and you will heed my orders!" I had my hired girl open the door during a pause in the yelling and pounding, so as to ensure my appearance was a decorous one.

"Cardocca, my adored friend, welcome again to my home, and the home of the illustrious Sagun, my husband." I put a touch of worry and fear into my face, so that Cardocca would know his masculine bluster was impolite and out of place, which would slow him down. Cardocca paused in confusion at seeing me ready in presentable dress and he instinctively worried about being the cause of my distress. I let the tension flow out of my features and gave him my best smile to reward Cardocca for conceding the initiative to me. "I was so happy to hear you have come to Lixus again Cardocca, it has been too long. You simply must sit and enjoy refreshments with me." I'm not very good at hanging on other people's word, making it look as if their acceptance means the world to me, its one of the few things I have trouble faking, but I gave it my best shot.

"Of course, dear Lina, I would be happy to drink with you again. But I do have urgent business with Sagun, we are looking for him."

"Oh, I see." I gave a non-committal response whose lack of concern or protest would hopefully argue for my ignorance of the matter. "Bring up some of the pear juice, darling." As the girl went off to the cellar, Cardocca instructed his men to politely search the house. They proceeded to do so, but carefully announced themselves before entering each room. Cardocca took the seat I offered him. We had last known each other a decade previously. Entranced by the culture of the Maure elite and never the most martial of Latronus' sub-chiefs, he had been the natural choice to govern Lixus when the Lusotann occupied the city less than a year after it had been conquered by the Carthaginians. While most of the other women shied away from the invaders, fearful for their virtue again, I had moved. Xanthippus had kept his men strictly in line among the noble-women and the Lusotann too, for all their wild ways, had appeared to want to use the city rather than loot it. Befriending Cardocca, I soon introduced him to my sister and encouraged her to seduce him. Through Cardocca, I ensured Ti came to the attention of Latronus as the Lusotann king prepared to march east. Ti was not the only candidate Latronus was looking at to rule this new "Mauretania," but my husband, bless him, is not only a good administrator but a zealot in love with war. It was his ardor and promises to raise a vast allied army that sealed his hold on the position.

"Tell me the most amazing thing you have heard this year." I hosted Cardocca, hoping to entrance him while Ti made it to our villa's roof and dropped into the street. This might take some time if Cardocca had posted a lookout there. The other servants had been rushing around the house looking for chamberpots to strategically empty to clear a path when a runner told us Cardocca had almost reached our home. We couldn't delay hearing his demands forever, of course, but the Maure nobility had been very worried when Saloch, Ambon's emissary to the Maure and chief representative of the Lusotann had been recalled. Ti had spent too long on his projects in the south and a unified position had yet to be decided upon.

"Milady, it maybe hard for you to imagine such a thing here in your delightful city, but the world is indeed wider than we thought. Not only has Ambron found his legendary isle of the Bandue, Ibera has received word that he thrives, having defeated a local warlord and taken a town to expand into a new city. To many of us in Iberia, this was news doubly shocking, as not only has Ambron's madness proved less mad than expected, but it becomes more and more certain he will never return to our homelands."

Cardocca wasn't telling me the whole story, of course. My contacts in Gader and Mastia told me the Lusotann leadership had been thrown into chaos. Not only were the royalists insisting funds and even perhaps a second expedition be sent to the Bandue-isle, but there was a growing discontent within the tribes and even the Lusotann themselves about the handling of Iberian matters. One of the Edetani leaders, working closely with the city of Arsae, had managed a daring invasion of the Baleares. The expedition had become stranded when the Carthaginian fleet had sunk their ships and the Romans, in an opportunistic defense of their Carthaginian allies, had declared war over the nominal Lusotann control of that "Greek" city. No one believed a word of their outrage, of course. Greek freedom in Emporion and especially Massilia had suffered at the hands of the Romans.

The girl returned with the pear juice, which gave me time to come up with an appropriately meaningless response. "Enjoy this Maure refreshment. I find cool pear juice absolutely the best answer to a warm morning, don't you? I wonder, if the Bandue land is so marvelous, what drinks might Ambron be enjoying right now? It is exciting almost just thinking about it!"

Cardocca and I spent a few minutes exchanging meaningless guesses about the true nature of the Bandue and he complimented me on my new ability with the Lusotann tongue before his men finally returned, signalling they hadn't found Ti with a slight shake of a head. The Lusotann envoy swiftly got up to go, but I intercepted him at the door, literally turning him with a slight tug on his shoulders. "Leaving so soon? But we've hardly begun to catch up!" I employed my broadest smile.

"I have urgent business today. The demands of government simply cannot wait." Cardocca was frowning, but simply couldn't turn down sweet, dear Lina. "Yes, yes, you men work hard. And we ARE grateful. But promise me you WILL spend evenings with me. Tell any of my girls when you can come. I will send them to your residence every day to pester you until you relent. And Nura, my sister, she will HAVE to see you before you leave. Publically of course, her new husband is the most jealous type, but she told me herself that if she didn't get to at least see you again, she, well, she'd just DIE of sadness."

Cardocca paused to consider what to say, and finally decided to leave with a gruff "we shall see."

***

Ti dodged Cardocca most of that day and I met him that night in an empty building close to our house where Ti had decided to sleep. Cardocca had finally stopped searching for him after Ti sent a messenger claiming he'd been on a surprise inspection of the port and requested a council with Cardocca early the next afternoon. "Rumors from the lesser members of the Lusotann delegation tell me that they are going to insist on payment of tribute, monthly, and Mauretania will have to make up for "pirate" losses, but not those suffered when the Carthaginians capture ships passing by the Pillars of Hercules. Not that that's much of a problem these days. What's more, they're furious about the prosecution of the war with the Carthaginians. Not only did we embarrass them by taking Siga when they couldn't, but they're worried that the Balearic situation could spin out of control. I think they'll offer good terms to Carthage for peace - probably give Siga back to them and promise to bring most of the army over to Iberia to hold back the Romans - right now they're blindly hoping the Edetani and Greeks can hold the city walls until something can be done."

Ti nodded at my summary of the Lusotann delegation's goals. "That's what I've been hearing too. What's more, the political crisis in Iberia really is critical. The royalists have essentially lost, and the Lusotann will be leaving Ambron to his own resources in Eire, but the royalists are forcing expensive individual concessions from the rising powers to hide the split in leadership from the lesser Iberian tribes. They're broke, and they're going to be looking to us for money." Ti paused, and I could tell even by moonlight that he was very unhappy. "One of the Arsean sailors told me he saw Saluch taken aboard the Lusotann transports last evening... and a body was dumped over the side that night. Saluch was a stanch royalist, and he hated the Carthaginians. He helped me fund the Army of Mauretania with Lusotann gold. In addition to the Gader and Mastia funds, which he knew nothing about. I think that all came to a head and he was executed for treason."

I shook my head, sad to hear the news. I'd never liked Saluch, but he'd been an extremely useful tool. "Do they know about your southern push?"

"No, thank the gods. And I hope they don't find out. Precious few of our own people know the skirmishes in the south are initiated by us on purpose. I've organized the entire operation out of Sala. The coastal war is bad enough. Even if they've decided they want to pussy-foot with the Carthaginians, its at least an obvious move with benefit to the Lusotann. They'd hardly approve of an interior war by their client state of no use to them." I pursed my lips and didn't answer. In the dark, Ti probably couldn't see my frustration. His continued military expansion south made little sense to me. The far south of Mauretania had no significant cities where, as far as I could tell, all the real business of state took place. He'd taken half the troops recruited in Sala and used them to not only secure southern Atlantic Maure, but also push inland, placing garrisons at springs and oasis villages, slowly pushing into the desert itself. It was sheer folly, but Ti knew his only real influence was along the Atlantic - everything east was virtually a private kingdom of the only notable man of the interior, Stenu. Ti was trying to enlarge his power base, and dreamed of a cross-desert trade in salt and gold - a fool's dream if ever I heard one. Even I, a woman, knew that in a war with a larger power, you combine your military forces, not split them. The extra men should have gone with Stenu.

But it was too late for that argument now. "What did the nobles say?"

Ti was quiet for a few minutes, gathering his thoughts, which scared me. "They want to give in. They see the empty streets, they know all our fighting men are gone. Everyone still remembers the Lusotann conquest of Lixus, and most of them remember it as liberation from Xanthippus. They think they can 'negotiate' down the tribute by paying less and less without openly defying Oxtraca. And the general belief is that the threat of Lusotann intervention is the best defense against Carthage."

"Are they right?"

"Maybe... about the threat of a counter-invasion being a better defense than the Army of Mauretania. I've received word that Milkpilles is marching on Siga from the internior west of Numidia. Even if Stenu can defeat him, I don't know how long we can hold if Carthage sends everything they have at us. There are only so many Maure. And I think they're wrong about Cardocca. I think he's smart enough to put on just the right screws to keep the tribute as heavy as we can pay. He plans to stay... he's become an anti-royalist, and means for Mauretania to become his own fiefdom."

I pondered that for awhile. "Would the Lusotann return? If we kept up the war with Carthage and didn't pay their tribute? Would they force us to behave?"

"No." Ti snorted. "They couldn't. Not for a generation at least. The Lusotann are in chaos. Rome knocks on her gates. The smaller Iberian tribes are looking to test their rule. More importantly, they have no fleet. All their ships were sent north to Eire, and virtually all of them disappeared when the fleet turned back to return to Ibera. Pirates or a storm. If we absolutely had to, it would cost us, but we could promise the Carthaginians or friendly Phoenicians from smaller colonies safe harbor in villages near the Pillars. The current government is trying to rebuild, they'd never risk transporting an army in the face of active "Carthaginian" piracy. But most of all, dear Lina, we have our Army of Mauretania. We Maure are larger and more powerful than the force the Lusotann landed a decade ago. And in many ways, they are weaker. Although I still have my doubts about Stenu's loyalty to me."

"Did you tell the nobles this?"

Ti laughed. "The nobles are the old, the fearful, those not brave enough to serve in the east. They are losing money with the labor shortage, they want to pretend everything can go back to the way it was in their father's day. I know your heart my dear." Ti came in and hugged me, pulled me down to sit with him, cuddling me. "I know you want to see our people powerful. I know you want men like Cardocca to grovel to you. I know you want to rule something, somewhere in your own right. But we cannot oppose the nobles. Not with Cardocca here. One of them might think to offer me up as a scapegoat, and a smart one might get the others to support them and make the notion work - if I were to speak your dreams of independence. Now they are under my thumb, and if I have to pay lip service to Cardocca, well, I am fine with that. This is the right path."

Ti was trying to soften the blow. Tribute was not lip service. Giving back Siga would give away Maure land and mean eventual subjugation... even if peace reigned for a decade.

Ti nuzzled my ear and I rested against his reassuring strength. "Don't forget, my dear Lina, you are Matriarch of the Utrana. You own lands in your own name as great as mine. You are respected and feared. Let this one go."

I sighed. "Yes, my love."

***

I slept in late the next morning, having returned to my own comfortable bed. I avoided the outside until well after the midday sun, before finally bathing and breaking my fast with fish caught that very morning. Ti, if he was around, and servants must have thought I was moping, unhappy with the new political changes. It had not escaped my attention that few of the prominent ladies in the town had come to ask advice. I represented the old policies. They wanted to be important to the new. I took a long walk along the city wall, sweating like a pig, looking out at the countryside deep in thought. After supper I took another bath to wash off the sweat and grime and cool myself off. Finally, in the evening, Ti returned from council. I was still soaking, my fingers long having turned to raisins. I was snacking on raisins as well, imagining myself in the life of some horrid northern cannibal like they say live on the frozen edge of the world. My eyes fixed on Ti and I waited.

Finally he gave in and sighed. "It went as expected. I chose to be Cardocca's strongest voice in the council, listening to every proposal and stopping the objections as they came up. It was easy, as the suggested tribute was lighter than I'd feared. And by appearing to be the key man holding the dissenters in line, I should make myself necessary enough to distance myself or simply ignore any fallout from the southern campaign. Our position is secure."

I nodded.

"There's more, though. Your family's agents in Gader and Mastia have been doing more than skimming off the top of the customs reciepts. They've begun running the ports as their own business, nearly openly. Cardocca angrily accused the council in general of supporting Maure-led native gangs in both those cities. Cardocca didn't say so, but there's going to be a crackdown. You might start looking for a scapegoat if your cousins were stupid enough to get involved in something like that."

I raised my eyebrows in surprise. Even I hadn't been willing to tell Ti how far I'd encouraged my Utrana cousins to go. Giving leadership and a sense of legitimacy to local gangs that sprang up in wake of broken families and torched villiages from the Lusotann conquest had been a natural outgrowth of 'helping' the Lusotann nobility control those formerly Phoenician cities. I'd sent most of the extra funds to my uncle Karbalos in Siga to be channeled into family-owned businesses there and to help establish the administration of that territory. Ti searched my face, but I think my surprise looked genuine.

"I'm exhausted, I'm going to bed."

I nodded in acknowledgement. "I shall join you. If you are still awake when I come in, I will put you to sleep with a massage like you like."

Ti gave me a weary smile and blew me a kiss before leaving. I ducked my head one more time beneath the water and called for the girl to bring my towel.

***

The next day was taken up by a religious festival. I enjoyed the feast after the sacrifices and marveled at how few people turned out compared to before Ti became governor, although the crowd was larger than last year. The Lusotann, except those guarding Cardocca, seemed to be having a good time, although many of them were unfamiliar with the gods and spirits being worshipped. As the tables were cleaned and the crowed went to enjoy the games, I took a few hours to examine Mauretania's unofficial treasury accounts and estimated what they would be like without the official and unofficial Lusotann support we were receiving, not even figuring in a tribute. It soon became clear that there would be no Army of Mauretania if money were to be flowing out of the country instead of in.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania/DreadfulFinancials.jpg

In the evening I visited with my sister's family, while Ti busied himself with important priestly duties. My sister went to bed early, while her husband and I enjoyed considerable wine. I described in detail a new estate my family was constructing just south of Sala. The ocean kept the area cool, and the climate was perfect for the growing of flowers and grain also did well. Finally my sister's husband gave in.

"Very well, I am interested, but I cannot say yes without knowing more."

"You know your dear wife had a short affair with Cardocca a few years before you were married?" He smiled. "That's practically how we met. My brother was a candidate for Ti's job, as I'm sure you know. Not that I wanted him to get it, he's an idiot."

I nodded. "He does seem to spend a lot of money on silly things."

"Yes, yes. I want the estate, but I'm not sure how costly it will be. My dearest, of course, loves you at least as much as she loves me and will no doubt agree to whatever your dastardly plan is."

Men can be so blunt sometimes. They think it protects them from women's superior skills at subtlety. "I want her to seduce Cardocca again. Then I want you to discover them in a fit of rage and kill Cardocca. Also, the neighbors will need to know. You'll move to the estate immediately of course, for your own protection. Family not in the know will assume it is being used to patch up problems between you two, and no one outside the family will know it is being used as payment."

He considered. "Ti?"

"Has no idea." I expected this to seal the deal. The two men were not the best of friends.

"I don't want us to be cut out of the loop on the Gader and Mastia business."

"That's about to end. Which makes the estate revenues even more valuable."

It didn't take long for him to consider. As I said, men don't take time to go over the subtleties. "When?" This also meant agreement.

"At least a week from today. As soon as possible after that. I will be engineering functions she might need in the meantime. Parties, trips to the countryside, temple ceremonies. Also, I could use something to write on."

***

My dearest daughter Maia,

I hope I find you well...

...I know most of the family's men are off to fight in the army or serving Ti in his brave leadership of our people. I mean for you to gather the young ones, those just entering manhood, because I will need that many strong arms. Nevertheless, they must follow your instructions to the letter. The ship must be burnt and the Lusotann attacked only AFTER Cardocca is exposed for what he has done. The men watching Cardocca are too vigilant beforehand, but in the chaos after the revelations I feel must come forth our family's honor can be avenged with little danger. Make sure the young men leave for Lixus immediately, armed as new recruits. Impress upon them the importance of obedience and that their success will ensure their future within the family...

***

...I only hope this letter arrives in time, before the anti-royalists begin their attempts to assert full control. I repeat, the political situation has changed and your life is in danger! You must, for the future of our family and our people, escape Gader with everything you can. More than that, if at all possible look to loot the treasuries of temples, Lusotann nobles, and rich merchants (but not ship captains). No burnings or slaughters. Escape by ship and head to Siga, not Lixus. It is imperative that Lixus not be implicated. Karbalos will see that you remain busy around Siga.

***

Most brave and honored Stenu,

...as a result it is certain that left alone, Ti Sagun will pursue a conciliatory and subservient policy, placing blind hope in the faith of the Carthaginians to hold to a peace treaty with the Lusotann. Even if this were to be so, Siga seems a high price to pay, although I claim no great knowledge of strategy.

You have seen the treasury statements I've sent you. I'm sure you know the figures as well as I do. The cities are still depopulated. Expansion along the east coast is crucial to the prosperity of our people. Your army is crucial to the survival of our state, and both our families' fortunes. I rest all my hopes in you. I urge you, I BEG you, declare the independent state of Mauretania with yourself at its head. Make Siga your capital. I have high hopes that my family will be bringing the funds to make the declaration stick. I will force, if need be, Ti Sagun to accept your declaration, to bring all Atlantic Maure with him. We will back you. I will back you. My family will back you.

And know, if you were not already aware, that Ti has been quietly expanding our borders south and east from Sala. Southern Mauretania is all but pacified. The oases of the southeast have been fortified. A second army closes in on the Carthaginian fortress of Tuat. This is Ti's folly, but regardless, the Lusotann will not support it, and Carthage will not forgive it.

You have fought for us. You have brought us victory. Now, by all that is holy, lead us, be independent Mauretania. Save us once more.

May the gods be with you,
Lina Utrana Sagun, Matriarch of the Utrana clan, wife of the governor of Atlantic Maure, heart of the glorious realm of Mauretania, Ti Sagun.

[MisterFred]

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania/TitlePic.jpg
by Stenu Turditanikum

[Ch.5]

Independence was announced quietly. The army was told, via rumors encouraged to trickle down from officers, that the Lusotann had banned Maure traders and Maure goods from their ports as part of their peace treaty with Carthage. Sagun, nor I for that matter, had never been very explicit in acknowledging our authority had its roots in Oxtraca. A lack of fanfare preserved this fiction for the rank and file, those more politically aware could see which way the winds were blowing.

The Lusotann had done more than cut off trade with Mauretania, they had named Sagun an illegal tryant, called me an outlaw and a bandit, and declared war. I was not terribly worried. The Lusotann nobility had lost its stomach for foreign adventure. Traders rumored that they had arranged a peace with Carthage based on the return of the Baleares and Siga, but were unable to make good on the promise of either region. The declaration of war against Mauretania was less an indication of their hostile intent than a desperate attempt to preserve the peace treaty with Carthage and renew trade relations with the great city. What's more, Arsea's supplies had outlasted the resourcefullness of Rome's foragers, and the Greeks and the Edetani had defeated the Romans when they tried to strom the walls of Arsea. The defenders themselves had been decimated, and the Lusotann couldn't spare the expense to send an army to press Emporion. Conventional wisdom predicted Rome would be back in a year or two, so the Lusotann arranged a peace deal. Arsea would be independent of Roman or Lusotann control, and both could send traders and other observers to the city. Arsea took its indpendence, and extended its borders all the way out to sea and arround the Baleares as well. Lacking a war fleet and with Roman ships raiding trade out of Mastia, the Lusotann could hardly protest, and the chiefs ratified the peace treaty.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania/IndependenceWorldMap.jpg

Politics was the theme of the year in Mauretania as well. The formal, if quiet, declaration of independence was followed by the time-consuming task of organizing Siga as my capital. Karbalos was a capable governor in his own right, and he had the added benefit of a large amount of gold stamped with the faces of Lusotann chiefs. Curious Maure sailing in from Ibera had also entrusted me with a large reserver of specie. Lina Utrana Sagun, not Ti Sagun, had continued her unexpected correspondence to inform me that it was the larger part of Mauretania's treasury. Karbalos didn't seem surprised by any of this, and I chose not to look a gift horse in the mouth. Karbalos had also continued to organize the countryside around Siga, now that the army had pacified it. As he was ensuring my family got its due in the form of confiscated Carthaginian land - we let the local Maure and other tribes keep their interests - I chose not to question Karbalos or the gift of gold and silver from Lina.

I had good reason to question the policy of Ti Sagun in Atlantic Maure, however. Actually, I'd questioned his policy for some time, but only now did I have the authority to do anything about it. With the collapse of trade and the absence of most of the men, only the inland mines provided reliable resources and revenue. Ti Sagun needed to abandon his southern adventures, disband the city garrisons, and stop recruiting new troops. Eventually, the economy had to get back to normal.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania2/004-SalaLowPop.jpg


https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania2/005-LixusLowPop.jpg

Sagun had decided he was my equal partner, however, and it soon became abundantly clear to me that I had little ability to actually control events along the Atlantic. Eventually, I had to threaten mining revenue and work through Sagun's wife before a compromise was reached. Sagun would disband the garrisons, excluding the governor's bodyguard of course, but he would continue to fund his small war to the east and administer south Mauretania.

Siga itself, now the capital, was a prosperous city; the Phoenician and other non-Maure population showed no sign of resenting our administration. What's more, every sword and stout shield shipped from Lixus found a man willing to wield them. Before I knew it, the year had disappeared in the work of administration, and the cool season had arrived.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania2/006-SigaHighPop.jpg

I put a new man in charge of many of the new recruits from Siga, a local merchant who showed a promising enthusiasm for independence. Moreover, although he bored most people to tears, he was also the very image of what a man should be. Religious, but not too much so; smart, without a temper to cloud his mind; and he always acted in a proper manner. The perfect second-in-command: extremely competent and unloved by the rank-and-file. Once I was assured of his horsemanship, I allowed him to lead a second unit of cavalry.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania/Tarkun.jpg

Tarkun suggested we advance immediately. The Carthaginians, who usually follow a fairly orthodox Greek strategy, would be reorganizing their army during the cool season. We could ensure the war continued on their territory if we marched immediately. This closely paralleled my thinking. Although there was more work to be done organizing the land east of Siga, Karbalos could take care of this. Moreover, we'd neared the extent of our ability to arm new men and between recruitment and funds for the rebuilding of Atlantic Maure, the gift of gold sent by Lina' agents was already largely depleted. In the Autumn of [237BC], the Army of Mauretania marched east once again, following the coastal roads.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania/TheAdvanceEast.jpg

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania/BetterArmyMauretania.jpg

[MisterFred]

[In the spirit of EB, I should probably note that I have only the most passing knowledge of ancient Mauretania, largely obtained from recreational reading of history tangentially related. You should assume that any and all cultural trappings, economic and strategic details, and basically anything at all in this AAR is based on pure fiction and the EB game I'm playing, and not derived from a study of Maure history and culture, Carthaginian history and culture, or any other such thing. Also please try to ignore the incredibly pale "Irish Maure" generals and governors.]

[The game itself, though, is pretty darn fun. Not being skilled at the noble art of modding, I declared independence by gifting Arse and Bocchoris to Koinon Hellenon to represent the Edetani-Greek coalition, and southern Ireland + the rest of the Lusotann cities to Casse. I chose the Casse because they're the one barbarian faction with which a war with Rome would probably follow a similar course as an AI Lusotann. I considered Saba, since they share a factional MIC with Lusotann, but I chose Casse for the culture similarity. Besides, the Casse share a regional MIC with the Lusotann, and I had a lvl 1 or 2 regional MIC in most of the Iberian cities (its faster to get to Iberi Milites than Luso. Light Spearmen and I wanted my cities to be able to recruit emergency line infantry, not just Ambushers, without investing real money), so the Casse should be able to recruit Iberian units. Similarly, I think KH starts with a regional MIC in Arsea. Lusotann peace with Rome and Carthage was easy, since both factions were already at peace with the Casse.]

[Since part of the fun of this AAR is the very real possibility of being crushed by Carthage, I've only used Add_Money for two purposes. First, I gave myself 40k gold - and then promptly passed 10k on to Koinon Hellenon to get them to take the Arsae territories, and 30k was shipped to the Casse to get them to accept the Lusotann cities (I don't have Force Diplomacy). Second, I'm using Add_Money in small amounts each turn, precisely 500 less than the amount paid out for general and agent salaries. The reason for this is it took me a little time to kill off the majority of my Iberian generals (this started the turn after I started the march east, for those of you with eagle eyes who are wondering why Siga is still trading with Mastia), and I had a number of diplomats on the ground to make the transactions happen that Mauretania wouldn't otherwise be paying for). In effect, my generals will actually be more expensive, since at this point in the campaign I'm paying unit upkeep on recruited generals rather than salaries for family members.]

[The end result is a lot like how many EB factions start out in 272. I have a few underdeveloped cities, a couple of significant armies on my borders, a respectable treasury (~9000 mnai), and I'm running a massive deficit.]

[Ghaust the Moor]

I'm really liking were your taking this. With all the extra characters and such. For me though, the best part is the politics you've brought into this. I could never reproduce something like this mostly becuase my political knowledge is so limited when it concerns the extra nuances and "Wars" that go on among people involved in politics. Such is the curse of a 10th grader but I still find it rather intresting. I'm loving this AAR and am defenetly following it. Good job

[MisterFred]

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania/TitlePic.jpg
by Eseuiku Nertobricoi

[Ch.6]

The Carthaginian pig-dog that had held me prisoner for the past three months tied me up and threw me into a cell three nights before my life took a turn for the better. The Phoenician bastards had patrolled out of Tuat before I could react, killing half my southron companions. I surrendered immediately, knowing we were no match for the heavy cavalry that shouldn't have been there. A little thievery here, learn a bit of the language here, and there is gold to be found in the southlands, not that I will tell anyone else how to get it. They don't know its value there, and it will be my secret. My secret to get my revenge.

Or at least that was the plan before the Semitic goat-#&%(ers took my gold, conscripted the rest of my men, and forced me to rot in the fort-and-trade-post that became my own corner of the underworld. I could hardly protest we were here peacefully. We were scouting for a garrison, and most of us had spears and bloody trinkets taken from dirt-eating Troglodytes.

When he threw me into the cell, I thought Garamites had finally come to trade, and the pig-dog goat-#*(&er knew who I was.

I ran out of water a day later and figured to die a day after that when the stone in front of the hut's door was moved and dark faces shoved their way inside. It was dusk, and a pig-dog in his armor was bleeding to death in the street. One of them said something in a language I didn't recognize. I smiled at the bastard and looked like I didn't want to rip his sword from his hands and cut my bonds. Was he southron? No, the nose wasn't flat and mis-shaped and the hair wasn't curled tightly. Probably ruled out dirt-eating Troglodyte too. Too far west for an Egyptian-Ethiopian mongrel. Dark skin, normal hair, nice sword... Maure. Well the elephant's by the stream, done drinking. Do you want it to come to you, move away, or take a shit and never even notice you were there. If you play it right, you can make it do anything you want.

I spoke a few words in Garamantine, then Numidian, neither of which the dumbasses in the doorway seemed to know. Eventually they found someone who could speak Numidian and led me outside to a man examining his brand new captured stables. I tried not to look gleeful at the sight of the dead pig-dogs. A few Troglodytes and other riff-raff who had arrived for the start of the trading season were being reassured by other Maure, apparently the new warriors meant to stay. Stable-man spoke some hick western Numidian dialect, badly.

"Who are you, and why are you tied up."

"I am Eseuiku, son of the great Gronto, exiled prince of Garama, and I was captured here after being forced to flee Garama for telling my people to throw off their Carthaginian overlords." Well, my name was the truth. Gronto was the name of the king whose tomb I had been caught looting.

Naturally, dung-face didn't believe me. But over the next couple months I managed not to tell him he smelled like dung, too. And I translated for him with the few southrons and troglodytes that came to trade. And I showed him the only sources of water near Tuat to the east and to the south, which he arranged to be patrolled. And I told him of Garam, of the great irrigation works, of the ancient tombs of kings from time immemorial. I was polite and as accomodating as a slave, and dung-face started to trust me.

Tuat was a nowhere piece of nothing, but it was the only nowhere piece-of-nothing with a year-round source of water - well, most years it bubbled up continously - for days of travel in every direction. Everyone stupid enough to cross the desert to the other side came through Tuat.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania2/018-TheBeautifulOasisOfTuat.jpg
[Um.... that's a north arrow...]

So the pig-dog goat-lovers wanted it back. And they came to take it back. They came with heavy pikemen, animals dragging their armor along the march; they came with Numidian archers and skirmishers, conscripts of uncertain quality; they came with a unit of Garamantine spearmen, brave fools from my own homeland; they came with heavy cavalry, to keep the rest of the bunch together. Food supplies in Tuat were low, and dung-face was wise enough to be worried about disease with all of his men pulled inside the fortress. I told him the pig-dogs' only possible water supplies were uncertain at best, and they'd accept battle if it was offered. The Maure went off to fight. After making sure I could make it over the southern wall if they lost, I watched from the top of one of the buildings in Tuat, with a few of the Troglodytes still in town.

The Maure kept relatively close formations, but those units spread out in a classic skirmishing fashion. They'd had practice. The Carthaginians wanted to close with their pikes, but their skirmishers would have to prove themselves to force a general melee on the pig-dogs' terms.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania/TuatBattleLines.jpg

I thought at first the Maure were fools for exchanging javelins in close order, but their sheilds held better than I believed, and the intensity of the volleys shook the Numidians and the Garamantines. It wasn't long before those units were near broken and the Maure were moving in to mop them up. Only the pig-dogs' lackey archers kept doing damage. I thought the Maure would leave the pikemen to die of thirst, but the they wanted blood. They wanted the enemy force to disappear, and they wanted no one preventing their ability to forage. With bravery as suicidal as the Garamantine spearmen, they engaged the pikes. The heavy cavalry, incapable of chasing the lighter Maure, couldn't even muster a proper charge in response. Don't bring armored horses to the desert heat, slobbering-idiot pig-dogs.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania/TuatNearEndBattle.jpg

Untiring, weilding their swords with skill and energy, the Maure cut even the pikes to pieces, the battle was over, and I had to find some other entertainment for the second half of the day.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania/TuatPikemenCloseUp.jpg

Dung-face, who was starting to realize I was the only person in Tuat smart enough to successfuly engage in conversation, came to talk to me the next day. We discussed the pig-dogs, and the Garamantine that had fought with them. I told him that if it was true war raged in the north, the Carthaginians would never commit real troops this far south again - but they would press the Garamantine to send a full force - a force that knew how to fight in the desert. The only solution I offered was to give me men. I would lead them to Garam, raise the nation against Carthage, and open a second front. If only I could overthrow the pretenders backed by the Carthaginians.

The fool believed me.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania2/009-TheBloodyMercenary.jpg

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania/SouthAdvanceEast.jpg

[gamegeek2]

Absolutely love it, politics as well (found it very interesting and intriguing)

[MisterFred]

Thanks gamegeek! For the record, I appreciate all comments and thoughts readers might have, both on the game itself and my writing and characters. Pretty much on anything, really. I'd be particularly interested to hear what people think of what I've done with Lina Utrana Sagun and Thucydorus of Leontini, as these are the two voices I worked hardest to do something with other than efficiently deliver information. (Both will be returning soon in upcoming chapters if you haven't formed an opinion yet.) Also, if there is any place I should be cross-posting or linking let me know - I'm not a TW forum expert.

[MisterFred]

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania/Title2.jpg
[Trying a new title picture.]

by Stenu Turditanikum

[Ch.7]

The secret truth of the matter is that I was relieved when the Army of Mauretania marched out into Carthaginian territory. The eastern edge of land theoretically controlled by Siga holds little Maure and is not yet under our control, but Tarkun knows the Phoenicians well, and can find the ones that dislike Carthage. The constant drain of money for supplies had become a nightly worry. But approaching Ippone, Tarkun could be equally efficient seizing herds and raiding granaries, and Carthage's centralized government meant the locals frequently didn't realize our raiding parties were coming. A true Phoenician city with only a small Numidian population, Ippone was key to the prosecution of the war with Carthage. It is the only city in reach whose capture had the potential to truly hurt Carthage, precisely because it is so Phoenician and also connected to the financial web centered on Carthage. Other possessions may have taxes extracted or provide estates and land for wealthy Carthaginians. The capture of Ippone could affect, even in a small way, everyone in the city of Carthage.

Or so the theory went. In practice, I believed waiting for a Carthaginian counterattack was too dangerous, and the only cities I could strike in this strange warfare of large armies and deep territorial invasion were Kirtan, in Numidia, and Ippone. Ippone might cause Carthage to focus on defense rather than see the opportunity to invade Mauretania from the sea.

As the army approached the city in the spring, the scouts and rumors seemed to indicate the early march had paid off. An army significantly smaller than our own had retreated behind the wooden walls of the city, while smaller bands of troops were camped on the other side of the river east of Ippone. I felt good, we had caught Carthage off-guard and unprepared. Our troops had free reign of the countryside, and the locals seemed to understand that if we were going to steal their livestock and their corn, their buildings and their families were safe if they didn't resist us.

That is, I felt good until signs of summer started appearing and there were no longer small, scattered forces over the river. The estimated size of the nearby army had quadrupled, and scouts returned breathless that a massive army was marching to meet us, already crossing the river. We had to storm Ippone now, or retreat in the face of the combined Carthaginian forces. Tarkun had been working with the officers trying to figure out what sort of army was camped within the city. He knew best the strategies we had available to us. I had been planning on a siege followed by a short rest in Ippone and had supervised the Garamantines showing the rest of the army how to build reliable battering rams and overseeing provisioning.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania/Ippon-Siege-1.jpg

Once the scouts had reported, I realized how foolish I had been to limit casualties by keeping our observers on the Ippone side of the river. That night I informed Tarkun that the next day we would make final preparations to storm the city, he would lead the men into battle on the second day hence. He was not ready. But then, I had run in pain and terror from the fight outside of Siga. To this day I thank the dust,trees, and even enemy cavalry which prevented the army from witnessing my disgrace, thus preserving my command. I reviewed Tarkun's plans to make sure I was familiar with them, and lunched once more with a Carthaginian noble whose estate and herds I had ordered spared. With his information, I assigned my most trusted Maure officers, those I had brought into the army personally, plans for organized looting and treasure depots for when the sack began.

Soon, I was standing confidently next to Tarkun, looking in command as he gave orders and I complimented myself on being able to figure out how far along on his plan we were. It was a good one. Knowing the Carthaginians would fear our javelins and stay somewhat back of the walls, he ordered our most expendable troops first into the breach, to lure the enemy in to charging in to stop us from pouring into the city, only to be met by a hail of javelins and driven away from the entrances again.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania/Ippon-MercsGetTheWorstJobs.jpg
[Mercenaries get the worst jobs.]

The plan worked well. Half of our army pour javelins into the backs of units preventing a breach of the city, until two of the three holes in the city wall were cleared of opposition for our units that had used their ammo. With the enemy badly disorganized and the advantage manifestly theirs, those units poured into the city.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania/Ippon-FightingInEarnest-1.jpg

Unfortunately, it soon became clear that these were no hapless militia. We were facing professionals, the best of whom had yet to engage. Still, the Carthaginian forces were pushed away from the walls and many retreated to regroup deeper in the city, presumably to fight along side the phalanx whose pikes we could see in the market square.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania/Ippon-Enemy.jpg

Tarkun and I were in the city, and could only watch as our forward units, chasing the fleeing enemy down a broad street were surprised by a Carthaginian phalanx placing itself between the pursuers and our main force, using a branching avenue. In most cities, in most circumstances, there is little to fear from pikemen in the city streets. But these were high-walled mud-brick buildings, on a broad street, in an unfamiliar city where attempts to surprise the pikemen with unconventional warfare faced the threats of a hostile populace and small bands of professional troops who knew the city for us and had weeks to prepare. We the best we could, and set fresh units in immediately, who took advantage of the pikemen's positioning in classic Mauretanian fashion.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania/Ippon-Javelins1.jpg

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania/Ippon-Javelins2.jpg

The units retreating to the city center must have turned back and surrounded our over-zealous men, however, for we soon heard Maure calls to turn and flee, but none of those men made it back to our forces. That single trap was effective enough to annihilate over 4,000 men. The reinforcements were already attempting to break the rear of the phalanx sword-to-sword and rescue their trapped brothers when, in a smart display of discipline and marching, the phalanx snapped its pikes up, wheeled, and brought down a reasonably organized front facing back towards out main body. Luckily our officers on the spot were wise enough to retreat slowly to the city wall, drawing on the pikemen.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania/Ippon-Oopsie.jpg
[In game turns it was about 225 men breaking and routing - then trying to run through a deep elite phalanx.]

They couldn't see the number of reinforcements waiting for them because of the wall, and their officers must have realized that a retreat to the city center would have mean constant pursuing javelin fire. But it would have been the right decision. When they exposed themselves to our main force by the eastern wall, the depleted formation was cut to pieces. Most of the Carthaginian army was broken, and the last resistance was holding position in the market square.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania/Ippon-Aftermath1-1.jpg

Our remaining fresh units surged into the market square, surrounding the last bastion of opposition. I had left clear orders to ensure no Carthaginian soldier melted into the streets and byways of Ippone.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania/Ippon-EliteAfricans.jpg

By the evening's end, I was a relieved man, despite extremely heavy casualties. A days-long street fight to capture the city could have given the approaching Carthaginian army time to surround the city in turn and destroy every last one of us. As it was, the screams and burning had already begun, ensuring enough light to work through the night. I had confidence my part of the plan would go smoothly, there was no where left in the city for resistance to form.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania/Ippon-Costly.jpg

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania2/001-CaptureOfIppone.jpg

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania2/003-BuildingDestruction.jpg

Excerpt of a letter written by Eurymines of Messana to Menibidos of Croton

...Business continues to be good, despite the bribes I have to pay to safeguard my estates from these cursed Mamertines. I am redoubling my efforts in sea trade because of the danger of keeping money tied up in land, and because it is the foreign contacts I maintain which make me valuable to the Mamertines, and therefore somewhat protected.

I am currently a few stadia west of Ippon, where there are deals on slaves the likes of which I have never seen. I am spending every ounce of metal with me on inventory and a second transport to haul it. I've even borrowed from my crew with the promise of twice their money upon sale of the slaves I'm purchasing.

It turns out the barbarians that live to the west of the Phoenicians on the southern coast, the Muray or some such name, have raised a large army and are plundering Phoenician cities to sustain it. Best of luck to them, I'm sure you agree!

The best part of it is that these Mooroy have absolutely no idea what they have in terms of merchandise. Other than the obviously learned captives, just about everything is going for dirt cheap. I paid less than a tenth what I expect to earn for my inventory, most of whom are laborers from the city itself. The Maera agent actually thanked me when I convinced him that these city-dwellers were worth next to nothing and I was doing him a favor by taking them off their hands.

Of course he probably has no idea who the Romani even are, and would have no way of comprehending how their desperation to shore up control of the coastal cities they've brow beaten into subservience means a shortage of skilled labor. They say they're going to build a modern city at Tolosa. Well who's going to do the building? Not the Gauls. The Roman public sure as death doesn't want to move out there, and hiring Massiliotes would be like handing over the treasury. And then in steps little 'ole me, with some of the most highly skilled construction workers in the world, fresh from the big temple project in Ippone.

Pity the Miare burnt that down.

As a token of my respect, I'm sending you a slave on a ship headed for Magna Graecia. He was previously an estate manager outside of the city, on one of the giant over-sized deals the big-shot Carthaginians like to lounge around in. Given the way the Phoenicians can make anything grow anywhere, I thought you could find a use or three for him. and he should be able to deliver this letter.

I hope you've thought more about my proposal to betroth your daughter to my son. Not only would the financial alliance be a natural fit, both of our families could use a friendly refuge on the other side of the strait. Just in case you have problems when the Romans get around to organizing that part of Italy or I have to seek refuge from whatever barbarian menace Sikel gets to deal with next...

[MisterFred]

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania/TitlePic.jpg
by Stenu Turditanikum

[Ch.8]

The Army of Mauretania was in good spirits as we marched, happy with the sack of Ippone. The men had coins in their purses and the army was now well-funded and supplied, despite being cut off from home. For myself, the days were full of worry and fear. I had hoped to occupy the city burning over the horizon to the east, but the strength and size of the Carthaginian response was too dangerous to face. Trapped in Ippone, probably cut off from the sea by a Carthaginian fleet, we'd have been helpless. In an open field battle, perhaps we could have won... what? Who risks the future of a nation on maybes when victory gains nothing?

Retreat back west ate away at me, as the meaning of Carthaginian defeat haunted my waking thoughts. Yes, Mauretania was independent, yes, the victory had shown that Carthaginian power - especially their heavy cavalry - could be bested. Yes, we had come so far from the brief occupation of Lixus by Carthage. But as a nation, we relied on the existence of a single force. A single javelin thrown from a hundred paces away, that needed to hit one small gap in the accursed Carthaginian armor - a gap I hadn't yet seen. They have a whole wagon of javelins ready. Rather than slap down the particularly nasty one they had just thrown, I decided to dodge, and march west.

Tarkun argued for open-field battle, suggesting a major victory would let us march straight to the walls of Carthage and demand a peace treaty. But rumor held the size of those walls was the largest in the world, and I expected the city could be supplied by sea, and the Army of Mauretania might slowly starve. If victory merely led us into the jaws of a trap, I would prefer not to fight. And so we continued to retreat, the troops confidently expecting I was leading them to another victory.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania2/007-OnToKirtan.jpg

The few stragglers I left hiding in Ippone soon reported that the Carthaginians were extremely well equipped and trained, led by a competent tactician named Bomilcar, who had recently returned from Kyrene, where he had dined with the Ptolemaic kings and improved the defenses of that remote outpost to keep the relationship with the Greeks peaceable.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania2/010-CarthArmyInIppon.jpg
https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania2/011-CarthArmyInIppon2.jpg

Ippone had reduced the ranks of the Army of Mauretania.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania2/012-ArmyOfMauretaniaCardsAfterIppon.jpg

Finally, I ordered the Army south into the interior, moving to invade Numidia. Retreat to Siga and friendly territory, as Tarkun advised if I refused to fight for Ippone, was folly. We could slowly solidify financial and military control eastwards, yes, until the Carthaginians won a battle and we collapsed back to the city, or worse, heard of the occupation of Lixus by sea months after it happened. I had to force Carthage to deal with me. I had to weaken their forces and their recruitment, and I had to strengthen the Army for the conflicts ahead.

Numidia could be key. For centuries, her people had served in Carthage's armies. Recently Carthage had assumed nominal control of the territory, although the Numidians chiefs still handled most of the territory's administration. But the greater level of co-operation had ended the existence of Siga as an independent Phoenician colony trading with Mediterranean Maure, and the security of interior control gave the Carthaginians the confidence to send their armies as far as Atlantic Maure itself. If I could break the Numidians away from the Carthaginians, convince them to raise up and throw the weight of the formidable Numidian cavalry behind the strong sword arm of Maure infantry - the war would be all but won. And co-operation or not, Carthage had to respond to hostilities in Numidia. Warfare in Numidia would threaten to spill over into their own agricultural heartland at the same time the anti-Barcids would demand Carthage save their investments in the Numidian interior.

The road west to Siga would be left undefended - save that any attempt to travel it by a Carthaginian general would be political suicide.

I directed the army to Kirtan, one of the few large towns in the region, the Numidians preferring a pastoral lifestyle to an urban existance, both to force the Carthaginians to pull back (a victory via symbolism) and as a base from which to conduct diplomacy and recruitment. Along the way, the army passed through rich pastures, which fattened our supporting herds and allowed us enlarge them via confiscation.

Taken by some madness, the Carthaginian official in Kirtan chose not to retreat and be seen with his tail between his legs. Perhaps some unpleasant fate awaited him if he returned penniless, perhaps he was simply patriotic to the point of being suicidal. Whatever it was, as we marched into Kirtan he gave a fiery speech praising the valor of Numidia, strapped the cover of an ordinary Numidian cavalryman over his bright Carthaginian shield, and charged to his death in the name of the Numidian spirits and gods as his astonished bodyguard was slowed by the prospect of numberless Maure javelins.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania2/013-KirtanExecutionOfGovernor.jpg

Perhaps he did convince the Numidians we were coming only to steal their land. Perhaps in some war of the gods, they did send the spirits of dead Numidian kings to possess the poor fool. Perhaps the Numidians feared what Carthage would do a decade from now if they showed any hesitation in supporting the great city. Whatever it was, the Numidians would not be won over. They would not consider my words. From the first day we marched into Kirtan, raiders probed our herds, looking to steal livestock. Townspeople threw roof-tiles and disappeared into the night. On a mission of 'alliance', I had to hold my men back and worry how many I might lose in a true riot.

When I learned Bomilcar had marched out of Ippone, leaving only a tiny garrison, I knew the Army of Mauretania would not stay long in Kirtan. I made plans and contingency plans, waiting to know which direction Bomilcar chose. If he marched west, I would have to chase him and defeat his army near Siga, or march back north and then east again to ravage the Carthaginian estates near the great city itself to draw him back. If he marched south, I would find myself in a hostile country and in poor position to win an open-field battle.

The day the report came in that Bomilcar had turned south, I let my army have its way with the town.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania2/014-KirtanSlavery-1.jpg

The sack of Kirtan was brutal and thorough. The most valuable of the population foolish enough to remain in the town were gathered and enslaved, sold to agents ready to spirit them west. Everything and everybody else was stolen, burned, or put to the sword. If Bomilcar was coming to defend Numidia, I intended to give him good reason to do so. Let his allies cry out for his aid, let them beg him to defend their towns and people. Let him waste his great host guarding hill forts and goat pastures. I marched east through the foothills of the southern mountains, the Numidians' best pasture land, rustling livestock, burning homes, and butchering anyone who stood in our way. Horses in particular we killed whenever we could find them, striking at the heart of the Numidians. Numidia was land whose wealth was spread out in smallholds and the valor of its people. Bomilcar had been wise enough to leave only a tiny garrison in Ippone. That city had already been looted, he was wise enough to know it needed little defending for the moment. But Numidia was another matter. I had high hopes Bomilcar's army could be dispersed and effectively removed from campaign without ever facing it in the field. Meanwhile the Army of Mauretania would strike deeper and deeper into enemy territory, searching for that tiny gap in the armor.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania2/020-ArmiesEast.jpg

Some men suffered from the chill and cold as the cool season found us while we were crossing the high foothills, but we Maure have even seen snow, in the height of the Atlas range, and finding it on a few distant peaks once more would not slow us down. In early spring we were still marching, tireless, east across the coastal plain south of the Carthaginian heartland. It was time to test Carthage here, where Libyans, Phoenicians, and Liby-Phoenicians all merged and melted together in prosperous farming towns. To the west was death and destruction, and the shadowy presence of Bomilcar. To the north was the great city of Carthage itself, with its great walls and endless supply of foreign mercenaries. To the south appeared more fields, hills, and the lush luxury of spring, but every man among us could sense the sands further in the distance. To the east, a scale in the Carthaginian armor called Adrumento. Who knows what forces would step forward for its defense. Perhaps here would be the gap, the weakness I had been looking for.

[MisterFred]

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania/Title2.jpg
by Lina Utrana Sagun, Matriarch of the Utrana clan, wife of the governor of Atlantic Maure, heart of the glorious realm of Mauretania, Ti Sagun

[Ch.9]

The nobles and their chosen sons they held back from war are at it again, practicing their throws, pitiful as they are, for the third straight day. Even fat Abulos, Ti's lieutenant, is out among them, exercising their horses and drilling day after day. On the good days, it is like watching art or a school of fish. The horses flow over the contours of the field, the javelins a delicate rain that impact with perfect rhythm. Other days, it is a disaster of grunting horses, men, and sweat, as poor formations cause collisions, and even the occasional broken bone.

Something may have to be done, but what? The sword-foundry is shuttered, as the government can't pay for the iron. We can give our boys, too young to be proper infantry, fire-sharpened sticks and slings, and they can pretend to be Troglodytes. But their aim will be poor and their weapons will break under them, and no one is willing to send the few young men left to that fate. Curse the old dog Hamalcar! Curse our bleeding balance sheets! The men swear Lixus and Sala could never fall, that if the old dog came for either one, the nobles of the other would answer and that, god willing, that would be enough. I have my doubts.

There is little I can do. My own family has supported Ti's government for years. We still have our landed estates in Atlantic Maure, and we are running them well, but so few in the cities that need to buy food our real sources of coin lie elsewhere. The government's debts continue to mount, but at least it hasn't gotten so bad we cannot continue the war. Ti's efforts in the south and in the desert are even starting to pay for themselves. Nearly starting to pay for themselves.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania2/024-FinancialReviewPreAdrumeno.jpg

The old dog sends raiding parties to the edge of Atlantic Maure from east and south of the Atlas range, keeping the cities in a constant state of worry. His force is small, by all accounts, but large enough to cause real damage if he dares descend into the hills and the plain. We are not Siga, base of the Army of Mauretania. We are its home - which it left campaigning.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania2/025-CraftyOldHamalcar.jpg

Horses are screaming again. It appears one of the maneuvers failed, and a smaller mount was shoved somehow and broke a leg. I have better things to do than watch this. I turn to one of the towers, intending to head back to the house for a late lunch and a bath. The evening should bring good news.

Unfortunately, my casual stroll home was interrupted by Famo of Sucum-Murgi, the most honored and welcome ambassador from the great peoples if Iberia.

"There you are, you treacherous bitch." Famo moved to grab me and I backed into the wall of some house before he could shove me against it. I shook my head slightly to warn away butchers across the street who had picked up their knives and looked determined, fabulous women. I made it a point of cultivating the prominent businesswomen of Lixus at every temple ceremony or other event. Noblewomen want to be me, and attention there makes them feel important and less dependent on you. Give an honorable common woman status and you may earn an ally for life.

Famo loomed over me, oblivious. "I know you did for Carlocca. You Africans are like animals, killing if anything shows weakness. 'Oh, look, Carlocca likes us. Let's rip his throat out.'" Famo abandoned his falsetto voice and shoved hard against me. "I don't like you, and I won't play your games. Come after me and all Iberia will know it was no lover's quarrel. They'll know you for the snakes you are. So get this straight. I tell your gelding of a husband what he can get away with. You stay out of a man's world, and we won't kill every last one of you dark bastards trading with the traitor Kardies in Iberia."

Finished, Famo stalked down the street in a hurry, no doubt seeing assassins in every alleyway. Fool ignored the women across the street. I looked hurt, scared, and abused, vulnerable, for them. Most lower class women have known what that's like, and they relate to it. Then I shot Famo a look I didn't have to fake, of hate and bile and the promise of revenge. That was meant for the women, too, to show strength and make me an object of respect rather than pity. I thanked them for their bravery then left as soon I could, heading home to prepare. I'd need to confer with Abulos before this evening.

***

After the feast, everyone of importance gathered at the port, enjoying the cool air as the day slowly turned to dusk. I stayed away from the seat of power, the knot of men laughing and discussing, until it was time for the signing ceremony. Then I made my way near Abulos, sitting demurely behind two of his aides. Famo and Abulos lied to the citizens and the sailors about the long ties and friendship between the Lusotann and Mauretania. Famo displayed silver and tin and two painted horses as diplomatic gifts from Oxtraca were unloaded from a Phoenician galley out of Gader. Our gifts were presented in turn, ivory carvings and semi-precious stones from the desert, a pair of fine swords from the Lixus foundry, and even a monkey from points south. I thought everyone loved the antics of a monkey, but Famo had to mask his surprise and horror and exclaim what a wonderful marvel it was.

As the goods were settled, the peace treaty itself was signed and just as the ceremony looked to be over, Abulos rose to speak once more. "Friends, allies," Abulos was waxing eloquent here, "the night is nearly upon us, but we have yet to hear from the soul of Lixus herself, the most lovely Lina Utrana Sagun, Matriarch of the Utrana, wife of the esteemed governor of Atlantic Maure, the one person here loved and respected by all. Madame Utrana, Governess, Lina my friend, would you honor this occasion?" The man had memorized his lines well.

I stood and stepped forward, taking Abulos' place, lit by torches and moonlight. The pale faces of the Iberians were visible before me. "My people. We have our independence. We have our friends. Our merchants will once again cross the seas and tell lies to Iberians as well as Greeks." Tired laughter. "We are blessed with the ability to rule our own destiny. Unfortunately, as a free person we must sometimes turn to our friends and tell them their faults, so that they may better themselves. Gentlemen." The noblemen of Abulos' guard that weren't involved in the ceremony came out of the shadows, seized Famo, disarmed him, and threw him to his knees. He screamed a few outrages before my Maure gagged him.

"Free people do not suffer threats. Free people do not let would-be overlords into their city. You are guilty, Famo, of arrogance, of seeking dominion over others, of dealing in bad faith. You, too, shall be a gift to Oxtraca from Mauretania. We gift Oxtraca your life. We gift Oxtraca the right to choose your replacement. We gift Oxtraca our forgiveness for this insult, your presence. Tell them this, and give them my welcome." Famo struggled as the men pulled him away from the crowd before they stripped him of his clothes and emblems, maimed him, and cauterized him. He was thrown onto the galley, naked and marked.

I turned away and waited for the attention of the crowd without actually calling for their attention. I smiled at Abulos, though only at half strength, and whispered into his ear. "Smile, as though I am giving you a gift. And thanks as well, for your excellent performance." Then I turned and began to examine some of the Iberian jewelry, signifying the time of violence was over.

Later, I had Asherah, a Phoenician woman attached to the Iberian delegation, pulled aside before she returned to her residence. We walked along the beach in the moonlight, two of Abulos' men following us discreetly for our safety. I congratulated Asherah on her foresight in settling her family in Lixus to arrange trade goods for her relatives in Gader. Then I stopped and formally offered her my palm. "I hope, as well, that you can be our connection to Iberia, Oxtraca's unofficial ambassador in Lixus until the new one arrives, of course. The precise terms of trade must be set most carefully, and I must turn to you to make sure things fall out well for the benefit of both of us, both of our countries."

Asherah bowed her head and took my hand and replied in broken Maure. "I will do everything I can to ensure profits return to both of us. And I hope to become your friend, as well."

I smiled, broke the connection between us, and we returned to our midnight stroll. I wondered if Asherah enjoyed beading.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania2/021-PeaceWithLusotann.jpg
[and trade rights, of course]

[gamegeek2]

:smash::smash::smash::smash::smash:

[MisterFred]

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania2/Title3.jpg
an excerpt from Thucydorus of Leontini's The History of Africa, Book 10 (written 202BC)

[Ch.10]

...compared to the first two historic battles outside of the city, the third battle of Siga was a decidedly minor affair. The city's Maure defenders numbered a scant 5000, of whom about a third were horse composed of Karbalos' bodyguard and pressed messengers and mounted police to provide numbers in times of crisis. The remainder of the city's defenders were Maure warriors left behind when Stenu and Tarkun marched east. The Carthaginian force, led by the master tactician Hamalcar, of whom I have already written when describing Carthage's conquest of Kyrene, numbered only 6,000, although the majority of this number was cavalry fighting in a heavy unit under the personal command of Hamalcar or in an allied unit of Numidians.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania2/025-CraftyOldHamalcar-1.jpg

Well aware a siege was essentially impossible with so few men, Hamalcar stormed the city after constructing a single device, a battering ram. Although Karbalos and his horse distinguished themselves in the combat, the Maure forces were finally defeated when Hamalcar personally led his heavy horse into the city. With the meekness and indifference for which Siga's largely Phoenician population is so aptly famed, Hamalcar faced no resistance as he took up the reigns of administration.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania2/029-FYouHamalcar.jpg

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania2/030-Siga3InfantrySlaughter.jpg
[Half of the Carthaginian infantry is routed and run down or killed by javelins when Karbalos sallies.]

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania2/031-Siga3NumidianSlaughter.jpg

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania2/032-Siga3ValiantKarbalos.jpg
[Pursuing Numidians are drawn away from the rest of the army before Karbalos turns and dispatches them with his heavier cavalry.]

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania2/033-Siga3DoomApproaches.jpg

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania2/034-HamalcarsCharge.jpg
[The last Carthaginian infantry fails to break when charged in the rear by Karbalos. The attempt to rout them and turn to face Hamalcar with infantry support fails.]

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania2/035-NotYouTooKarbalos-1.jpg
[Hamalcar's heavy cavalry breaks the remaining defenders.]

No more than a minor conflict or a major skirmish. In fact, the third battle of Siga is so unremarkable as to be astonishing. Consider, for a moment, the vast importance of Siga to the Mauretanian economy and war effort. Consider, too, the fact that Hamalcar had long been known to be making his way west in the interior for months, unable to stop the Maure population from informing on his whereabouts. That such a thing was possible, that Karbalos would fail to raise the Maure living outside of Siga for its defense, is a testament to the true genius and planning of Hamalcar. With the smallest of forces, marching over rugged terrain, he moved his heroic band into the heart of Mauretania. Once there, his true intentions were cloaked and disguised so heavily even his own men had no idea where their commander, presumed mad, senile, or worse, were leading them.

By expertly playing on the fears of the Maure leaders and feinting towards lightly defended Atlantic Maure, Hamalcar threw the barbarian leadership into turmoil, all the while knowing it was impossible for so small and poorly supported a force to invade the homeland of a people, or take a city populated by Maure. Exploiting that fear, he struck the one blow no Maure had thought possible. He assaulted Siga by land, from the west. A Carthaginian assault by sea, yes, lookouts were posted. A drive from the east, yes, long expected. But Carthaginian forces moving inland, in the rain shadow of the Atlas range, had to be an attempt at Atlantic Maure, long feared. It would take a madman, or a genius, to wander in the desert for months to approach Siga from the most unapproachable direction. Never underestimate the power of misdirection, of knowing your opponents' moves in advance by virtue of your own manipulation. It allowed Hamalcar to do the impossible, to move past all the strengths of the Maure in the countryside and fortify the one crucial position which could be occupied by an army the size of his, the Phoenician capital of Mauretania itself.

The feat is one of remarkable courage, intelligence, and bravery, assisted only by the foolishness and panic of the Maure defenders. It is one of the remarkable campaigns in this war of remarkable events, which is so suited to the education of generals and politicians in our own time...

[MisterFred]

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania/TitlePic.jpg
by Stenu Turditanikum

[Ch.11]

As the Army of Mauretania came down out of the mountains, it became clear that Bomilcar was not following us as fast as he could. Instead, reports had him in Numidia, but not defending or reorganizing the areas we'd devastated. Instead, he was recruiting a second army in the untouched regions of the country, using the sack of Kirtan to motivate a widespread Numidian mobilization.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania2/022-WTFBomilcarOnToHad-1.jpg

Slowed by rivers unusually swollen and cursing the lack of bridges and reliable local guides, springtime was a rare season of slow progress by the usually tireless Army of Mauretania. Rumor trickled in from the north that Carthage had put a solid garrison behind her own walls and was raising another army which could move to defend any of the core cities around the great metropolis. Adrumento, however, was potentially vulnerable. Long a busy military recruitment area, many of its soldiers were probably marching in Bomilcar's army. While new forces had be raised for the campaign, they would not yet be a match for the full Army of Mauretania. Or so I hoped. Tarkun correctly pointed out that I might be choosing to believe the rumors simply because a march further south or back into Numidia was so unpalatable as to be unthinkable.

In any case, no Carthaginian army met us before we marched to the walls of Adrumento and lay siege to the town. Tarkun and I were unsure whether or not Carthage would send a relief force. Delay would allow them to continue to recruit soldiers and mercenaries by Carthage itself, but would almost certainly lead to the loss of Adrumento if we chose to storm the city. After Ippone, however, I was wary of another bloodletting against determined defenders. Bomilcar seemed out of the picture, uncertain reports placed him gathering supplies and organizing in southern Numidia. In the end, Carthage did send a strong force south to relieve Ippone. We did not yet have the option to storm Ippone before they arrived, which left us with the unpalatable option of holding the siegeworks against attacks on both sides or allowing the relief army access to the Adrumento. Tarkun pointed out that the relief army was not escorting a large train of food and supplies, which made the decision easier. We lifted the siege of Adrumento and attempted to march on the relief column before enemy could combine forces. Adrumento's garrison, however, was alert and managed to meet the other Carthaginians in the field. The supply situation was such that the enemy army did not wish to return to the walls of Adrumento, while the greater strategic concern demanded the Army of Mauretania not spend seasons marching around this army - both sides were willing to offer battle.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania2/036-EasternUpdate.jpg

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania3/042-BattleOfAdrumentoBegins.jpg

The two forces met on the road east of Adrumento, near an empty river channel, the stream having changed course at some point in history. I arranged my army on slightly advantageous ground, in a position that encouraged a split of the two enemy forces. I hoped to trap the enemy left with my right between a rock formation and the channel, while my left and cavalry overwhelmed the Carthaginian right as it came down the road. Unfortunately, the enemy commanders had their men well under control, and the Carthaginian right didn't move down the road until the enemy left had ample room to maneuver. Our right was ordered to advance slowly and begin skirmishing, commanded by my best captains. The entire left half of the army was ordered to charge hard, sticking to the plan and hoping to overwhelm the Carthaginian right before turning to deal with the enemy left in detail. I myself, accompanied by Tarkun and all of the Army of Mauretania's cavalry, would join the left, swinging all the way around to flank and hopefully crush the enemy formation. As the great mass of men surged forth, I felt my steed gather itself for a gallop, and my own bile rose in my throat. It was an ambitious plan, and I'd put myself in the thick of it. My army may have forgotten, but the one and only other time I'd found myself in combat, I had fled from the field. I feared I would show myself to be a coward again.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania3/043-BattleOfAdrumentoDevelops.jpg

[An excerpt from Thucydorus of Leontini's The History of Africa, Book 11.]

The battle of Adrumento reflects most tellingly the larger struggle of Carthaginian against Mauretanian. A disciplined, compact, heavily armed force, the embodiment of the great and powerful city herself, against all the vast energy and enthusiasm of a great rural people coming into its own, represented in turn by the sea of warriors gathered by the great leaders of their people, Stenu and Tarkun. Civilization versus barbarity; armor versus mobility; discipline versus numbers; professional troops versus a nation of warriors. Both armies, like both great peoples in this moment in history, faced a fight to the death in which retreat or surrender was unthinkable on either side. A loss for the Carthaginians meant the ravaging of their very homeland, sorrow pain and death for all the peoples that had grown in this land since Dido arrived on her shores. The Maure were equally desperate. Deep in enemy territory, surrounded by potential foes, the loss of their great force meaning the end of their independence as a people. The stakes were high for all, and no soldier on the field failed to understand their very way of life was at stake.

The Carthaginian army numbered 32,000 men. Certainly not the largest army assembled by that great city, but what men they were. In the midst of ongoing warfare with Syracuse and having already equipped the army of Bomilcar the previous year, in facing this threat Carthage threw open her purse and sent her best men. 12000 professional infantry formed most of the main battle line, armed and armored in the Greek fashion, drilled, professional soldiers. 9000 Sardinian mercenaries formed a solid reserve, and countered the javelins of the Maure with their own deadly bows. 6400 heavy shock cavalry, the pride of the Carthaginian nobility, also took the field, as heavy a cavalry arm as the western world has seen. But the heart and soul of the army, ready to guard the flanks or reinforce anywhere the battle would be fiercest, were 4800 men sworn to the Sacred Band. Bound to the city gods of Carthage by sacrifice and blood rites, every man of the Sacred Band had sworn never to retreat, never to flinch, to leave no Maure standing on the pain of their last breath and a curse to be laid on their children and their children's children by all the gods and Carthage itself if they should flee. Fanatics who had revived the ancient order, these men truly understood the stakes of the battle at hand.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania3/039-Adrumento.jpg
https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania3/041-CarthageCards2Adrumento.jpg

The Army of Mauretania, thousands of stadia from any friendly city, similarly knew to a man that retreat was impossible. 48,000 barbarian warriors took the field that summer day, the fate of their people on their shoulders. The Maure could muster only 4300 light horse, and 8000 of their infantry consisted of unreliable allied tribes or nearly unarmed slingers. But 35,000 Maure infantry took the field, each one cut in the mold that had shaken Africa, a seemingly unending number of that soldier with strong sword and sturdy shield who had looked east from the Atlas mountains and decided to change the world.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania3/040-ArmyofMauretaniaAdrumentoCards.jpg

Hoping to use the height of the rocky hill to their advantage, Himilco posted most of the Sardinian infantry on the Carthaginian right, supporting them with his own bodyguard and half of the sacred band. The bulk of the army advanced on the left, eager to come to grips with the barbarian invaders. But before they could do so, Stenu moved with the speed and resolve of a more experienced commander, the entire Maure left advancing well ahead of the barbarian right, moving to pin the Sardinian forces before they could unleash their arrows. This daring charge shattered the Sardinian lines, breaking the weakest section of the Carthaginian army, those with little stake in the outcome of the battle. Half of the Sacred Band, placed to stiffen the resolve of the Sardinians, held strong, but were pinned down by thrust of the Maure left, and were unable to support the overwhelmed right wing of Carthaginian cavalry, led by Himilco himself. Theages did send most of the Carthaginian left's heavy cavalry over to assist, but the fury of the Maure charge was such that by the time the reinforcements arrived, the Carthaginian right was all but destroyed.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania3/044-BattleOfAdrumentoLeft.jpg

Theages, seeing the disaster developing in the other half of the Carthaginian line, sent his best men into the fray immediately, hoping to turn the Maure right, which was without cavalry. He was hampered by both the hilly terrain and the old riverbed, which itself protected the Maure extreme right flank from an encircling maneuver by the Carthaginian heavy cavalry. The Sacred Band, however, took their oaths seriously. Plunging straight into the teeming mass of Maure infantry, the pushed the Maure left back. Theages kept his heavy cavalry busy, preventing the Sacred band from being surrounded on the Carthaginian far left flank, while the professional infantry helped to stabilize the overall line and the phalanx slowly approached from the disaster on the Carthaginian right, where it had been too late to assist. Meanwhile, the remaining Sardinians on the Carthaginian left did manage to eliminate the threat posed by the lighter Maure skirmishers.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania3/045-BattleOfAdrumentoRight.jpg

Flanked on both sides by Maure warriors, buried in javelins from infantry and cavalry alike, and finally charged by the full weight of the massed Mauretanian horse, the unit of Sacred Band on the right flank was utterly destroyed. The bravest of the Carthaginian cavalry and skirmishers escaped to harass the Maure rear, while an entire half of the Maure army swarmed to support their right, being worn down by the discipline and valor of the professional Carthaginian forces.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania3/046-BattleOfAdrumentoLeftBandBreaks.jpg

The combined assault of the remaining Sacred Band and the Carthaginian heavy cavalry had nearly pushed the Maure right to breaking, while the last professional reserves held off the first of the returning Maure left. The Maure cavalry, meanwhile, hunted down the Sardinian forces, knowing they could break these lesser foes, but in doing so they let the main Maure battle line remain dangerously exposed.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania3/047-BattleOfAdrumentoRightDevelops.jpg

Finally realizing the danger posed to the greater part of their army, the Maure cavalry broke off the attack on the rest of the Sardinians and charged into the rear of the Carthaginian lines in classic fashion - until the Sacred Band placed picked men into the path of the onrushing cavalry and stopped it cold. The vigor of their assault broken, the Maure nobility still resolutely pushed forth to pressure Theages' heavy cavalry, but the unflinching efforts of the Sacred Band once again held back the defeat of the Carthaginian forces.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania3/048-BattleOfAdrumentoRightCavalryRe.jpg

Theages' heavy cavalry finally pierced the center of the Maure right, but too late and with heavy casualties. The men from the Maure left were already charging back into the fray, and their bravery kept their harder pressed brethren from breaking. Himilco, however, had reorganized the remainder of the horse from the Carthaginian right and was charging in to take the Maure reinforcements from the rear, even as they threw their full weight into the line of the Sacred Band, now isolated but throwing every attacker back in to the dirt, dead and mangled by the deadly spear points of the sworn warriors. Credit must be given to both Carthaginian commanders, who made every effort to turn the tide of battle, putting themselves at personal risk time and time again. But no less credit to the heroes of the Maure effort, who had already broken half of the Carthaginian army and were now prepared to wear down the other half regardless of the cost in men.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania3/049-BattleOfAdrumentoSacredBandFoot.jpg

But the Carthaginian foe, despite their losses, did not waver, did not flinch from their duty. The Sacred Band held to their oaths. Having decimated the opposing infantry, the flanks and rear of the Maure surrounding the foe pulled back, as the the mass attempting to wear down the sworn warriors resisted attempts by the Carthaginian noble cavalry to break them against the spears of the Sacred Band. But the respite, if one can call a strong push into the face of the enemy a respite, did not last long. Once again the entire massed cavalry of the Army of Mauretania slammed into Sacred Band at full charge. But these warriors held. Perhaps protected by Zeus himself, perhaps having avoided the great waves of javelins denting their armor and weighting their shields, the elite of Carthage and all Africa ignored the charging spears and killed those horses foolish enough to close with them.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania3/050-BattleOfAdrumentoToughSonsBitch.jpg

Throughout history there have been famed warriors who give themselves wholly to their people, accept death, and lose all fear when it comes time to march to war. The spirit of Ares moves from region to region, perhaps first settling in Egypt, where the chariots of the Pharaoh's guard once ruled the great river. Certainly the gods themselves took sides in great conflict at Troy. The Spartans, undoubtedly, showed the greatest combination of training, equipment, valor, and the support of the gods when they threw back Xerxes time and again at Thermopylae. In this battle at least, near the shores of Africa and the city of Adrumento, another group of sworn warriors fought with the will of the gods behind them.

Forced to retreat, the Maure cavalry fled the Sacred Band and circled the battle once more, as the heavy cavalry of Carthage had nearly broken the Maure line again, this time from the very direction the Maure had begun the battle.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania3/051-BattleOfAdrumentoClosingMoves.jpg

Exhausted, the hardy steeds of the Maure struck one last time, crashing into the rear of the Carthaginian horse, more with their exhausted mass than with a true charge. But it was enough. Nearly surrounded by Maure warriors, disheartened at the spirit of men who could be twice broken and stand ready for more, Carthage's cavalry was forced to retreat. The Maure chieftains gave chase, knowing well their men could ill withstand a third great charge. Even Himilco's personal guard split into small bands, perhaps hoping to rally somewhere once more.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania3/052-BattleOfAdrumentoCavalryBreaks.jpg

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania3/057-VictoryChase.jpg

Abandoned by all their allies, the Sacred Band held true to their vows, choosing to die as great heroes rather than run as mortals would. Every man bleeding and covered with the gore of those who tried to break them, the Sacred Band stood. Surrounded once more by Maure infantry on every side, a natural barricade of fallen enemies began to pile up around them, and with the battle all but won, Maure units began to break and flee, fearing to face the unyielding foe, even as their cavalry returned from their long and fruitless pursuit of Himilco.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania3/054-BattleOfAdrumentoTheySayNo-1.jpg

But the remaining men could not conquer an army, and as Leonidas ultimately died when surrounded, so too did the last of the Sacred Band fall, surrounded by his enemies, living and dead.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania3/055-StillBloodyStanding.jpg

In most battles, one side or the other will quickly retreat or simply rout when it becomes clear that the other side has an advantage somewhere, or simply the gift of greater morale. In this way, armies with no choice but to fight to the bitter end and can avoid thsi fate often overcome great odds in battle. But the rare occasion will occur that neither army feels it can retreat, when both believe victory must come at all costs. So it was at Adrumento. The Carthaginian army was crushed nearly to a man, only a few thousand Sardinians and small bands of other men leaving the field alive. The Maure, for all the brilliance of Stenu's battle plan, lost upwards of 20,000 men, closer to half of their force than a third. Far from rejoicing over the battle, it is said that the Maure camp outside the walls of Adrumento that night was so silent the frightened citizens had to keep checking the walls to see if they were still there. Even loud barbarian mourning was given over to the shock of the defeat and perhaps fear that more men like those of the sworn Sacred Band would come forth to face them.

***

[Stenu]

When the battle was joined, and the first charge impacted the Sardinian lines, I lost all my fear in the battle, and felt from then on in combat only a grim determination. Even my horror was held at bay until the last of the Sacred Band had fallen. The battlefield was not cleared, nor the bodies burned. For the first time, I ordered the Army of Mauretania to simply abandon the field, and march to the outskirts of Adrumento. In a few days time, we would take the city, and I was certain the sack would be more brutal than Ippone or Kirtan. The men would fear any man from Adrumento growing up to fight them again, and I had to admit that in my heart of hearts, I was one of them. Grimly, I detailed a few officers to take their men back and loot the battlefield, but not today. No one had the strength to do it until the morrow. Ominously, Tarkun and I also avoided discussion and analysis of the new situation, wanting to leave that unpleasant task until we must take it up the next day. Both of us preferred to hear the desperately loud boasts, nervous laughter, and the men who were mourning their messmates.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania3/059-BattleOfAdrumentoSurveyLeft.jpg

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania3/058-BattleOfAdrumentoSurveyRight.jpg

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania3/060-HeroicMyAss.jpg
[Heroic my ass. I lost a third of my men to a numerically inferior enemy.]
https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania3/061-UnitByUnit.jpg

In the morning, as our army recovered our battering rams and prepared them for use, Tarkun and I agreed on the general strategic situation. Despite our losses, Carthage had suffered more. She had lost her forces in immediate vicinity of the great city, save those within the great walls themselves. We were both reasonably sure that there they would stay, to safeguard the city against unforeseen events. Only a madman would head south, so we must strike north, and return to Ippone and perhaps our base at Siga via the easy coastal roads. In the meantime, any Carthaginian subject city which they were foolish enough to leave undefended, perhaps to bolster Carthge's defense itself, would be sacked and its treasures and even the sale of its people would give us a great store of money to bring back to Maure lands. Neither of us raised the possibility that the Army of Mauretania would fail to return to Mauretania. Certainly renewed recruitment and the restoration of Maure prosperity would need considerable coin, and the Army had little and assumed the government had less.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania3/064-FinancialBeforeAdrumento.jpg
[before the sack of Adrumento]

Bomilcar was still somewhere to the west, presumably continuing to raise Numidian forces. I was beginning to respect the man as a leader, if not a patriot. His seemingly timid actions reveal the stresses the Carthaginian government puts on their generals. Failure and defeat is punishable by shame, exile, poverty, or even death. Victory, however, was rewarded little unless it brought profit and incomes to the city. The creation of new streams of wealth brought one power and acclaim, but for some reason the character of the city assumed a defense of the new wealth rather than honoring it. If Bomilcar had found a way to force march his troops and engage the Army of Mauretania - unlikely, given the stamina of our men and their ability to march long distances - or even come to the relief of Adrumento, he would have been ridiculed at home for allowing us to get as far as we did. In contrast, by 'retaking' Ippone and Numidia, he avoids the potential stigma of defeat in the field. Organizing the Numidians gives him a military reason to delay, and if he was particularly capable he could encourage the creation of a great host by using his own considerable army to confiscate the property and punish those who didn't throw their whole resources behind a new army. I began to believe that Bomilcar's next move would not be whichever strategic stroke would be most damaging to Mauretania in the war, but whatever move Bomilcar though would bring in the most money to his family and enhance his political fortunes in Carthage.

A similar logic explained the slow war in Sicily. Carthage had a sizable army there, which a people who valued land and expansion might send to descend on Mauretania in the absence of my army. But a city who cares more about money will look at the revenues coming in from sacking Greek trading colonies on Sicily and the potential for even greater value if the entire island was subdued in the event of a total defeat of Syracuse - a motivation even more pressing with the decline in African revenues due to the war with Mauretania. Tarkun found this course of analysis intriguing, and we pondered what it would mean in future years if the war continued to drag on.

In the meantime, numerous medals were given out to the many valiant heroes in the army, those who had saved comrades or moved their fellows to halt enemy advances of their own initiative. No few were given to men who had charged everywhere on the field with Tarkun and I.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania3/065-AdrumentoHonors.jpg

When we were finally ready to enter the city itself, the army worried itself with rumors the Carthaginians had raised yet more troops. They had tried, but the efforts consisted of little more than the conscription of Greek sailors by the port.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania3/066-OhNoGreeksLolz.jpg
[aaah, Hellenic units, run!]

In the actual event of the assault, these men would refuse to fight, and many actually helped in the sale of slaves from Adrumento soon after the capture of the city.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania3/068-TheReducedArmy.jpg

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania3/070-MmmCash.jpg

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania3/069-GonnaPawnIt-1.jpg
[Adrumento before the sack]

Every important building was burned to the ground, and most of the population and all of the men were sold into slavery or killed. There was no attempt to restrain the troops and they went wild through the city, provided only they moved in units large enough to avoid being killed by citizens. I intended the men to regain their confidence and ardor after the hardships, and a good bit of whatever they wanted would hopefully be the trick. I saw Tarkun and some other officers blanch at the brutality exhibited by the men, but I said nothing and kept to the business of extracting every possible coin from the city.

We left Adrumento a burnt husk and marched north only about a week after the sack began, the men with bloodlust fully sated, and those whose conscience troubled them more than ready to leave. As we marched north, captured prisoners spread rumors I was now a Lusotann prince, odd as that sounds. Eventually we figured out that Lina Utrana Sagun had arranged with the Edetani warlord who invaded the Baleares to officially 'adopt' me, which I hope was some misguided move to legitimize the transition from client state to independent nation, but which I suspect was a way to pretend to do just that while weakening me politically back home by associating me with the Lusotann. That woman's plots are disturbingly deep and complicated.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania3/063-StupidSigun.jpg
https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania3/062-ManOfTheHour.jpg
[Can't buy a command star, but plenty of supplies and the man never tires.]

We confiscated supplies and torched buildings we passed in our march up north, but in no systematic way. The Army of Mauretania was urged to march with a new speed. As the cool season approached we were swinging wide around Carthage. I didn't want the average soldier to question why we were marching past the city with little fanfare. I myself left with a small band of scouts to see the great city from a hill away from the path of our march. The great walls were even larger than I expected, and though I could only imagine the harbor teeming with trade and warships, it seemed impossible to consider actually taking the city. No ladder would reach the tops of those walls. No scaffolding could survive the assault of the defenders above. It could not be starved out... fish and shipped grain could probably sustain it indefinitely. Doubt and thus frustration grew in me. If Mauretania must always fear invasion, but Carthage would always stand, what chance did we have in the long run? I did not stay long to look at the massive walls of Carthage or the city behind them. Security and duty demanded I return to the Army of Mauretania, so I turned my horse and the scouts followed.

The other great prize along the lengthy march back to Mauretania was Atiqa. Long denied strong walls by Carthage fearful of rebellion, it was the other major hope for plunder before the Army of Mauretania turned west once more.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania3/071-BigWallsWhoa.jpg

[gamegeek2]

:smg:

:smash::smash::smash::smash::smash:

[Ghaust the Moor]

Oh man....The pure Epicness of this AAR is astounding. I am finding my self sitting here waiting for another update, despite the "Newness" of the last one. Cheers man, this is Amazing

[Horatius Flaccus]

Just read it all; excellent stuff!

[MisterFred]

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania2/Title4.jpg
by Eseuiku Nertobricoi

[Ch.12]

The Maure are amazing. They’re better than mules. They go where you tell them, carry most of their own gear, and don’t even bother to lip off. We made remarkable time through the desert before my guard and I scouted the first detachment of Garamantine headed in the direction of Tuat.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania2/017-TuatAttackingTribesmen.jpg

There were thousands of them, and including my “royal” guard, I only had about twelve thousand men with me. Still, it was simple enough to move the Maure south in the direction of a different spring. The Maure among my bodyguard protested. “We’re supposed to prevent any enemy force from approaching Tuat.” Incredible. Even a mule is smart enough not to walk through a thornbush if he can go around. The Maure, apparently, aren’t even that bright.

I solved the problem by mocking Maure manhood, laughing that he would think the garrison at Tuat could be afraid of such an enemy. And I noted the idiot’s face for the most dangerous scouting assignments in the future.

Still, there was a good chance we’d run into more of my lap-dog brethren before my army reached Garama. It makes more sense in the desert to send smaller forces by diverse routes to converge on a single location, than to risk starvation or thirst with a large army. When we scouted the next detachment, the same Maure idiot watched me with a scowl, preparing to put up more of a fight.

It grated, needing to appease the stupid, but if my retarded minions needed a fight to keep it up, I could give them a fight. I ordered the men back to pool in the sink-hole we’d recently passed and ordered them to keep a close watch. Mush-for-brains and his closest friends got sent out to scout the enemy in the dark. In the morning, after they reported back, much to my disgust, I addressed the officers who led the Maure infantry.

“Soon, perhaps tomorrow, an enemy force of mercenaries,” mush-for-brains did bring some good news, ”will approach our position. We will stop them here, where they have to fight us or go without water. The enemy must not be permitted to concentrate on Tuat.” Anyone with half a brain would just have half the men take a dump in the sink-hole and move on, sending mush-for-brains to watch disease break out among the enemy, but I needed this enemy force. “We may face a hard fight ahead, and the men must know we are prepared to sacrifice with them. I want us all to lead our units from the front ranks, to show we share the danger with all the great soldiers in our army. It is likely we face a mixed force of Garamantines and Gaetulians. Both will be overwhelmed by our javelins and a short charge. Permit the Garamantines to surrender, if they attempt to do so.”

That ought to get rid of a few problems. They could take enemy javelins to their ugly faces while I swung the captured Carthaginian steeds wide to approach from the rear and take the glory when the enemy were ready to break.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania2/019-GaramantineResistance.jpg

The battle went perfectly. Four officers dead, I got to chase down some runners, and Maure gold bought me my own force of loyal Garamantine. Even mush-for-brains enjoyed the battle. I let him savor the victory, now that I had men of my own race around me, he could be disappear whenever I pleased.

A few months later, the march into Garama was anti-climatic. The town surrendered, and only aa few magistrates and Carthaginians were buried up to their necks in the sand. Although, frankly, that was fun. I settled myself into my people’s most important market town, near those lovely tombs full of who knows what goodies I could dig up at my leisure now. The outlying towns will follow suit, no doubt, and it should be months before the Maure really begin to bitch and moan about raising an army to fight Carthage. After all, my poor people have suffered under their rule for near a generation, they need a loving, caring governor to prepare them for the coming fight. If I thought there was plunder to be had, Garama might actually march. Until then, I could track down every last man who supported my exile. I shivered from the anticipation.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania2/GaramaCapture.jpg

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania2/GaramaWorldMap.jpg

***

Another boring whiner. Water rights this, my neighbor’s irrigation gates open all night, blah, blah. I roar at him like a lion, and the mouse squeaks and looks around nervously. Every day someone whines about something else. It is a good thing, in the end. If I am the only law-bringer and problem-solver they cannot oppose me. But for today, clouds are in the sky, the sun is tamed, and it’s too fine a day to waste.

By dusk my chariot driver has found a Troglodyte near one of our springs. As the horses race at him, he raises his hands and yells something in Garamantine, but the wind is rushing too loudly in my ears for me to hear. I throw a javelin in between his legs, which sticks in the ground as I race past him. Laughing as he turns to run for a hill in the distance. I signal my driver to circle slowly and not to close too quickly on the second pass. I need to work on my distance throws.

Later, my bodyguard round up the Troglodyte’s cattle and we bring them back to town. Tomorrow, we will feast. In two days time, perhaps, I would let the mice return.

***

Kuintitaku

Kuintitaku grew up in Lixus when it was an independent city state. At the age of fourteen, he’d seen the city’s elders surrender to the Spartan, Xanthippus, who conquered Lixus for Carthage before the Lusotann came and killed him. But before the Spartan fell, the cool season while Xanthippus ruled Lixus had been an important one for the young Maure. His family grew poor as Stenu’s relatives stole the sheep Kuintitaku’s cousins pastured in the hills, claiming no provisions should be sent down to feed the invading army. Kuintitaku’s father, a butcher, had been overheard complaining about the mercenaries and hanged. Kuintitaku fled into the back alleys of the city, came out only at night, and seethed for revenge. He quickly learned how to read people’s faces, to know who (too many) were willing to live under Carthaginian rule and who (too few) were willing to join the coming rebellion.

Then came the Lusotann, and they killed Xanthippus before the rebellion even started (and probably ended just as quickly), and put Ti Sagun over the city. Then Kuintitaku didn’t know what to think, for all the brave words of independence and standing on one’s own and Maure ruling Mauretania’s destiny hadn’t come to pass, but Lina Utrana, Sagun’s wife, had quietly given money to Kuintitaku and other would-be rebels, and they loved her for it.

Poor, now approaching military age, and with few prospects, Kuintitaku decided to believe Sagun’s speeches of a strong Mauretania, even if the Lusotann still really ran things, and joined the new Army of Mauretania. He marched south with Ti Sagun and sat outside the walls of Sala during the ‘siege’ while Sagun negotiated with the nobles. He found out the girls in Sala didn’t want to marry a soldier with no family, and when he heard the Army of Mauretania was marching back north to be placed under Stenu’s command, Kuintitaku figured out away to move into one of the units staying in the south.

Then came the long years of struggle and unbearable heat in the desert. Kuintitaku learned the true meaning of dry, the different kinds of sand, and that he hated even the oases. He’d collapsed, choking on the dust, after the phalanx finally broke outside Tuat, and still he had to march east, ever east, now under the command of a foreign madman.

Mauretania seemed like a distant dream. Until suddenly, the pale foreign faces of the Garamantines looked a lot like faces Kuintitaku remembered from Lixus. Hidden, blank, if you were looking, angry if you weren’t. Or worse, with the ugly smile of someone who expects things to turn his way after a long period of suffering. Then came the riot, but it was easily suppressed. Even Eseuiku had expected that. But the familiar faces didn’t disappear after the mob was bloodily suppressed. Kuintitaku saw more and more of them, until it seemed everyone in all Garam looked just like his teenage friends in Lixus.

It occurred to Kuintitaku, as he sat in the shade and watched a stone-carver wear a familiar face and trudge slowly out to the monument being erected in Eseuiku’s honor, that he was an officer now. His previous commander had died, and Kuintitaku’s javelins had killed four Garamantines in the desert battle, and no one had thought to replace him with someone qualified. Maybe he ought to do something.

Looking around, none of Eseuiku’s men were in sight, which was good, so Kuintitaku found one of the other officers. He found Yalu quick enough, the aristocrat fanning himself as he headed to get water. Kuintitaku fell into stride next to him easily enough. Pissing and eating and sweating away their lives together in the desert had erased the social differences between the Maure. Without even a proper commander, the only real distinction was between officers and other men, or perhaps between the healthy and the sick or injured.

“Ho, Yalu. Slow down there.”

“Kuin. What do you want? It’s too hot to talk.”

“Need to talk, its important.”

“Why”

“There’s going to be a revolt, real violence. The Garamantines are going to try and kill us.”

“Heh. Happened already. Remember? You’ve been in the sun too long.”

Kuintitaku shook his head, frowning. “That was just a riot. I mean a real revolt. Organized, men coming in from the farms and villages all at once, prepared for a real fight.”

Yalu thought for a minute, taking his fill of water. “Doesn’t make any sense. There’s too many of us, we’re too good. Besides, how do you know. None of us can grunt back and forth with them.”

“Look, you’re from Sala right? Son of a merchant, something like that?”

“So what?” There was an edge to Yalu’s tone. The Maure in Garama didn’t speak of home. It was taboo, too painful.

“I’m from Lixus. I was there when Xanthippus took the city. My father was killed when… never mind. A bunch of us were planning a revolt. A real one, organized. A couple of nobles even backed us. But we didn’t have enough people. Too many thought hey, there weren’t any mass killings. So we weren’t ready when the Lusotann came. But I know what a rebellion looks like when people are getting ready. And the Garamantines are getting ready.”

“You’re sure?” Kuintitaku nodded without hesitation, hoping Yalu would believe him. “How many, do you think?”

“Damn near all of them.”

Yalu took another sip of water, but this time I could tell he was engaged in serious thinking. “Meet me in my hut tonight, when it’s cool. I’ll get the other officers to attend at the last second. Don’t talk to Eseuiku.”

Kuintitaku nodded again. That was obvious.

“Nevermind that.” Yalu, looked at me again, deep in thought. “Don’t talk about it to anyone.”

***

Six of men in the Garamantine hut Yalu had taken over. All of them were Maure infantry, two from each unit. None of Eseuiku’s southrons or Garamantines or even the Maure among his bodyguards were there. Three of the men were yawning, trying to clear the sleep out of their eyes, wondering why they were squatting on the ground in Yalu’s hut.

“Kuin and I had a little chat today. It was pretty interesting. I thought it had some bearings on conversations Kitu and I have been having, so I wanted to call you all in here tonight for a private chat.” I noticed then that Kitu, Yalu, and I were the only ones armed, and Kitu and Yalu were both casually seated by the only exit. “Kuin?”

“There’s going to be a revolt.”

“They did that already.”

Kuintitaku glared at the other officer. “A real one. With planning and reinforcements, and probably an attempt to poison us or kill us all in our sleep.”

“Cursed.” One of the other officers slowly shook his head. “We’re cursed. We should never have been made to follow with that Eseuiku demon.”

Kitu looked at the man sharply. “You think the Garamantines are going to rise up as well?”

“My brother was one of the fools planning to revolt in Lixus.” Kuintitaku held his tongue. “I started to notice the old men stopped talking on the street corners or meeting outside their homes. Only young men strutted down the street, and they stopped listening to everyone else. Same thing’s going on here.” The officer looked up. “Should we take it to Eseuiku?”

“No.” Yalu was firm. “Eseuiku is our enemy. Never doubt it. Does he look like he’s gathering Garama to strike at the Carthaginians? Does he look like he even cares about anything but horses and a pretty girl? The Garamantines will never fight for him. Make no mistake, we are his kingdom. And his slaves.”

“You’ve been thinking about this for awhile.” Kuintitaku eyed Yalu, re-evaluating him. “You’re talking about a mutiny.”

Kitu answered. “We both have. We have to do something, or we’ll die here in Garama. Maybe of old age, if we’re lucky. But Eseuiku will never let us leave if we don’t force the issue.”

The others looked unsure. They’d been soldiers for a long time. Survival depended on leadership. And Eseuiku had led us through the desert, to control of Garama.

Yalu stepped into the silence. “The Carthaginians will return. Maybe not for a few years, until they’ve defeated the Army of Mauretania or signed a peace treaty. I speak a little Numidian. The Garamantines say they trade with the Phoenicians on the coast. The coast. Carthage will never let someone like Eseuiku rule a land that could descend on t heir cities. They’ll send their soldiers eventually. And we’ll probably beat them… but eventually they’ll send enough. Die now to a revolt, die later to the Carthaginians, but one way or another if we stay under Eseuiku, we die.”

Yalu smiled. “But until now, could we get the men to follow us. But this revolt, that’s what’s changed. The men trust Kuin. If we all stand together, as a body, and tell them that Eseuiku isn’t in charge, that we’re in charge now, they’ll follow us.

“Follow us where?” The third unit’s second-in-command spoke up. “Who will lead us back west? The Garamantine won’t give us guides if they’re planning on killing us all. Eseuiku is the one who knows where water can be found.”

Something about that didn’t sound right. Kuintitaku thought about it, before replying. “Yes they will. It’s Eseuiku they hate. If they find out we’re planning on leaving, the ones in charge will make sure we get guides. And we’ll keep them with us, close. So if we die of thirst, it’s only after they do.”

“How do you know they’ll give us guides?”

Kuintitaku shrugged. “It’s what I’d have done if Xanthippus wanted away from Lixus.”

“We’ll have to make sure Eseuiku doesn’t find out while we find the guides.” Kitu eyed everyone in the room. “We’ll have to make sure none of us talks to Eseuiku.”

“No we won’t, my friend.” Yalu smiled. “Eseuiku knows cunning. The instant we start to hide, to send out messengers who go every which way we’ll start disappearing one by one. He’ll send his Garamantines with a few bodyguards looking official and the more we try and stay hidden the more we’ll look like mutineers to the troops.”

“We are talking mutiny.” But Kitu looked curious, like he expected more.

“What Eseuiku doesn’t understand is bravery. Brotherhood. We’ll wake up in the morning, gather the men, and trumpet the fact we’re leaving Garama. We’ll line the men up in their units and announce it in parade voice. We’ll tell them Garama won’t fight Carthage, that it’s ready to revolt. And we’ll take the whole day to gather water, and animals, and everything we need for a journey. And there will be nothing Eseuiku can do. He is nothing without us, and we are who the men trust, if we’re confident enough. By night we’ll be out of these huts into a proper camp. Then the Garamantine will send us guides, or we’ll capture them if we need to. They’ll know what we’re doing because we’ll make sure everyone who can speak Numidian is told to answer any questions a townsman asks.”

Kuintitaku could see Yalu’s plan coming together in his mind. But then he was truly surprised, as the last part seemed well planned. “And we’ll march northeast. We’ll march for the coast. If there’s one thing we should all agree on, it’s that we’re done with this cursed desert. I think it would swallow us whole if we tried to cross it again. We’ll escape by sea. We might not make it, but at least we’ll strike one true blow at Carthage.”

Yalu stood up, hand on his sword’s hilt. “Who’s with me?” Kitu and Kuintitaku stood up, as did one of the others. The other two joined more slowly. Perhaps thinking it over. Perhaps processing the fact that Kitu, Yalu, and Kuintitaku were the only men armed. No one left the hut until morning, when all six officers left together and assembled the men.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania4/078-TypeIVNextTurn.jpg
[Garama revolted on the very turn a type IV government was going to be built and Eseuiku would become a client ruler. I had no idea Garamantines hated that bastard that badly. I mean, how often does a town revolt the second turn after you take it?]

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania4/079-GaramiteGarrison.jpg
[Eseuiku and his loyalists]

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania4/117-NoRevoltScreenDeathOfEsueiku.jpg
[After running him out of town, the Garamantines immediately hunt Eseuiku down.]

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania4/118-ReallyIberians.jpg
[The Garamantine rebels. Or resistance. Patriots, even.]

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania4/119-DIESUCKERS.jpg
[Eseuiku rides down the traitorous bastards, no doubt cackling madly. At first it was simple maneuvering in addition to hammer and… soft loamy soil… tactics. Then most of the enemy troops started breaking as soon as Eseuiku even came near, and he rode them down without mercy.]

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania4/121-StillABastardThough.jpg


https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania4/120-AwwwClose.jpg

***

[B]An excerpt from Thucydorus of Leontini’s The History of Africa, Book 12.

Truly the Maure who made their way out of Garama were modern-day heroes in the model of the Ten Thousand of old. They, too, found themselves fighting in a land impossibly distant from their homes. They, too, were the military might of a doomed king. They, too, marched over thousands of stadia in the face of opposition every step of the way, not knowing if they even marched in the right direction, or what new peril would show itself beyond the next hill. These new Ten Thousand were such men as to conquer the very desert itself, and their story is all the more amazing for, being barbarians, this great band of men had no leader the likes of the great Xenophon to lead them home.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/mauretania5/136-LepkiUnitCardsFriendly.jpg [The Ten Thousand]

But when men give themselves over entirely, when they bend every minute of every day to the task at hand, when they forgo all other goals but the safety of their fellows and their survival, what can stand against them? What can they not accomplish? In the middle of the greatest desert of the world, the Ten Thousand decided to live; to travel, incredibly, farther east. Into lands heretofore unimagined by their barbarian tribe.

They survived the sun, thirst, near-starvation, and the hostile intentions of every living man for thousands of stadia and made their way out of the desert before the hottest months descended on the land. Exhausted, famished, reduced to no more than the meanest savages, they held to their weapons, held to their discipline, and came down upon the coast along the path of an empty riverbed. They came down before the city of Lepki, a prosperous community of ordinary men, and knew they had survived. For all they had to do now was take the city, and what chance did ordinary men have against those who had unified their country, took the oases, held against the best Carthage could send against them, and finally conquered the desert itself? What chance do ordinary men ever have against those whose hearts lead them to lands so distant as to be fantasy without the thought of fear or hesitation?

And what a calamity for Lepki! Truly we must marvel at the capriciousness of fate. For what city could have been considered safer? Put yourself in the position of its magistrate. Lepki is protected first of all, by belonging to one of the two great empires of the west. It is thousands of stadia of peaceful coast between Lepki and Kyrene, which itself is part of the Carthaginian empire. The west and north lies the Phoenician homelands in Africa, protected by armies recovering from the Maure sack of Adrumento, among whom are brave and loyal soldiers sent from Lepki. No danger could conceivably come from the sea owing to Lepki’s remote position from neighboring peoples, the strong Carthaginian fleet, and information and rumors that reach the city from traders coming into port. Inland one finds only the meanest of barbarians, and even at that time, from Garama, come messengers relaying the great news that the pretender sent by the Maure has been cast down and the country secured.

From where could danger spring? How could disaster possibly befall this most secure city? And yet in war, the unpredictable is common and that which is most certain is often turned on its head. Truly in war, contingency and planning is both necessary to the extreme, and generally worthless. For danger did descend on Lepki. Out of the dusts of the desert sands, as if a mirage, the Ten Thousand descended upon that coastal city. Ten Thousand grizzled soldiers, veterans of the most grueling desert campaigns imaginable. Men who had come from the shores of the ocean itself, mere legend to the residents of Lepki.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/mauretania5/138-OkWellPawnThisToo.jpg

Like a veritable force of nature, the Ten Thousand overwhelmed the city, slaughtered its defenders, and pulled down its buildings and dwellings with fire and sword. Those who did not flee were enslaved or killed, one or the other occurring based on nothing more than whim and chance.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/mauretania5/139-LepkiJavelins1.jpg
[Distract the dangerous unit, hit in the back with javelins.]

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/mauretania5/140-LepkiCloseUP.jpg
[Liby-Phoenician Infantry are about an even match for Maure.]

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/mauretania5/141-LepkiJavelins2.jpg
[Well, except for that whole javelins-to-the-back thing again.]

Had they prepared, perhaps the citizens could have held the walls. Had they resisted, perhaps they could have at least stopped the burnings and looting. If chance had not intervened once more, the citizens of Lepki could at least have seen the Ten Thousand met the Carthaginian armies that moved South on word of the Ten Thousand’s incredible march. But fate smiles on the bravest of men, those willing to attempt heroic deeds while caring little about their own nearly-certain doom. Greek ships, perhaps even some from Kyrene, were in port that day. The Ten Thousand came to them with gold and silver and ivory, all the treasure of Lepki, and promised the ship captains great wealth if they would bring the men home.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/mauretania5/142-LepkiSlavery.jpg
[And yes, there were burnings.]

Even now, the story of the Ten Thousand has been told by many people, in many ways. I have heard the Ten Thousand vanished back into the desert as quickly as they appeared. An Egyptian working for the Ptolemys swore to me they were hired as mercenaries and brought all the way east to break the back of the Seleucid armies. But these wild stories are all false. I myself saw the Ten Thousand, in the course of my official duties for the tyrant of Naxos. The ships carrying the Ten Thousand and their plunder put into that city to buy supplies and take on water. Even then their great journey was, if it can be believed, only half over. For the Carthaginians control most of the western seas. The Greek sea captains, greedy for their share of the treasure and fearful for their own lives with the fearsome Ten Thousand stand on their decks, planned to sail all the way up the coast of Italia, to stop in Massilia and Emporion, and to circle the whole rim of the western Mediterranean. They arrived in Lixus, these legendary Ten Thousand, as heroes to a man. Celebrated and welcomed home, they stand as proof that the great deeds of poem and song belong not just to the past; they can even be grasped in our own time.

[MisterFred]

The southern campaign has been unexpectedly successful and fun. It was originally a relic of when I was still thinking of Mauretania as a Lusotann client kingdom, and had no intention of writing an AAR. Because of the province borders, Sala was liable to be attacked from a whole host of directions, as it technically borders the provinces containing Siga, Lixus, Kirtan, and Tuat. Since I intended to send to empty the two western cities of armies (and population), I didn't want a piddly force coming in and making me spend a bunch of money to stop it. So I put together what I figured would be just enough of an army to stop any desert-based opposition and sent it out of Sala... in essence to guard my flanks. It was about the time that army was just setting out that the Lusotann faction leader and heir died in battle, I decided the Lusotann needed to invade Ireland, and everything changed. RP-wise, this started to make perfect sense, as I've set it forth in the AAR - even more because I'd messed up with the southern army's commander and left him in town for a turn, making him a client ruler (half movement speed)... it took a long time to get to Tuat. Which made perfect sense for a disperse rural campaign unifying the outer reaches of southern Mauretania. In addition to the numerous minor battles against desert mercenaries Carthage sent against that army.

From then on the story is pretty well covered in the AAR. But I thought you might find that interesting - and I want to get to 30 comments and move to the next page before posting the next section since its starting to take a while to load this page, even on broadband.

[MisterFred]

Come to think of it, that's probably how Hamalcar surprised me in Siga. His merry band of misfits had been moving along the interior for several turns, coming closer and closer to Atlantic Maure. The AI had probably calculated it was next to very poorly defended Sala because of the province borders and sent a force it figured (correctly) was strong enough to defeat the garrison at Sala - which I figured is what was happening at the time. Normally it would be a stupidly small force, but I was in the midst of years of debt and couldn't hire troops. Then I sacked Ippone and Kirtan, about the time Hamalcar reaches the Atlas mountains, and the AI had to recalculate Hamalcar's goals since it doesn't invade provinces it doesn't border. When Bomilcar took back Ippone from me, the AI figured out ah-hah, it does border Siga, so it turned Hamalcar around, creating the "feint" at Atlantic Maure, and the drive at Siga from the west. Which I genuinely didn't see coming until it was too late.

[gamegeek2]

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania4/117-NoRevoltScreenDeathOfEsueiku.jpg

IT'S A TRAP!!!

[Ghaust the Moor]

Oh man, This is cool. Great AAR. I'll say probably the first really good one i've read in a VEeerrry long time ;) Kudos to you man

[Ghaust the Moor]

And just cause I reallly want to see what happens next, I'll post a second time :D

[MisterFred]

Lol, I'll try and get the next section up on Saturday.

[Ghaust the Moor]

Sweeet

[MisterFred]

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania2/Title3.jpg
by Tarkun of Siga

[Ch.13]

The sack of Atiqa, so lightly defended even our ladder-assault teams took few casualties, was very organized. The Army of Mauretania had experience, of course. Stenu had learned after Kirtan that the advance planning he had worked on before Ippone was crucial. Stenu was a master of logistics, and this included the profitable capture of a city down to the careful details.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania4/089-NotALightSleeperThough.jpg
[The Army still hasn't had to deal with rationing, either. Well-supplied or no trait the whole campaign.]

Speed was key. Don't give the citizens time to react, to hide valuables or conceal themselves in nooks and crannies. Every unit in the army had its careful instructions, rules were laid down, loot gathered centrally and carefully accounted for. I ransacked the temple of Astarte, jewel and pride of the city, equal to or even greater than the great temples of Carthage. We knew in advance Atiqa was poorly defended. The day after we moved within sight of the city walls, our men held them. My men were the first deep into the city, galloping faster than local resistance could pop up. We took over the temple complex itself immediately, as foot units followed us slowly through the city, killing anyone who looked at them funny and capturing the rest. A great slave-camp was already being constructed outside the city walls. No one would sleep tonight. The citizens would be hiding in fear, fighting and dying, or wondering what awaited them as they were held like livestock. A third of the army, like myself, had special missions, assignments to race to important locations before anything could be moved. Another third guarded the army's camp, responded to alarms and resistance, and held the gates and the great port to prevent the escape of valuable chattel. The last third rounded up everyone they could find, and sent them to the great pen. Unless they were sick, of course. Can't have disease spread before the people are sold. Sick people were ignored or killed. So now you know. If your city is sacked, defecate on yourself, dot your face with red dye, and hold a long kitchen knife when they come for you. Not worth anything, too much trouble. Good chance they leave you alone.

If you're a priest, throw away your robes, do whatever you can to cover holy marks and get rid of symbols, and hide away from the temple. Don't stay inside saying prayers and invoking divine aid. When the enemy do come in, don't scream curses at them, don't let them drag you all around the complex while they search the place, don't wonder why they're taking you room from room as you give away the location of holy relics (preferably fashioned out of gold) with nervous glances at the places you've put them. Don't pull your ceremonial knife and go for one of the soldiers. They're expecting it, especially if you're old and want to prove yourself to your god before you die.

By the time dusk had fallen, half of Astarte's priests were dead, the more prudent half were silently cursing me and my men, and we'd fully loaded our war mounts with silver, gold, and other treasure from Astarte's vast reserve of offerings accumulated over the decades. Our remounts were already arriving, and I continued to organize their loading, with more silver, statuettes, rare books, and other valuables. We'd searched all of the buildings, gotten everything we could out of the priests, and strategically piled ordinary cloth, reeds, and other flammables by mid-morning the next day. Well the men had. I'd slept from dawn until we were ready to leave, since I would be busy all day. My men and I rode out of the complex on our tired horses, just as exhausted as they were. As we left, we set fire to the buildings. The temple's thick stone walls meant the fire probably wouldn't spread to the rest of the city, and the ruin of the interior could be searched a few days later for hidden caches of money melted down and exposed by the ruined masonry. Also, Stenu believed destroying the temple would blind the foreign god and prevent them from seeing what we did to its people. The surviving priests had their foreheads marked with mud and were released. Even Stenu wasn't so blasphemous as to kill or enslave them when they didn't resist.

My men and I hadn't pocketed even a coin from the temple grounds, they were too disciplined and I was too vigilant for that. There was no need to worry. We were chosen for the job because we were men of importance back home, wealthy enough to afford our own kit and horses when the army marched east. And Stenu was wise enough to save the best for us when he divided shares for the men. I expected we'd each receive something like a gem, concealable yet frequently more valuable than pure gold.

Most of the streets of the Atiqa, a city that would be known around the world if it wasn't hidden in the shadow of Carthage, were eerily empty as we rode past. Oh, a few held signs of life. In one alleyway, two wretched things saw me looking at their hiding place and ran, trying not to scream and alert the rest of my men. I was too tired to care, watching only to keep from being ambushed. Down another avenue, a trail of dead women and old men, most slain by javelins, led away from the bodies of two Maure warriors and debris from the rooftops above. Those inside the buildings had no doubt been massacred. Over a short wall that hid a courtyard from men on foot, but not those who were mounted, my men caught sight of an rape in progress and cheerfully insulted the genitals of all involved, but I frowned. Dangerous, that, if you're alone. Rape was forbidden in the slave-camps, where mass resistance would necessitate killing too many slaves intended for sale. Together as a unit, the men had strict orders to gather the population and keep the city under control. The only time for it was when the men should be sleeping, so they went off alone. Who knows if a brother or a husband or a mother is hiding and slips a knife into you.

When we were outside of the city walls, I directed my men to get some sleep, and left with two bodyguards to find Stenu and confer with him. Neither of us thought it wise to remain at Atiqa for long, and most of the officers would be needed to oversee the sale of as much of the population as possible. I found him overseeing a review of the quality of the wagons and carts confiscated from the city, of all things. Stenu was obsessed with the efficiency of our baggage train.

"Sir."

"Bah. Shoddy construction." Stenu stood up from examining the underside of a cart. "It can pull my tent and stakes, some wounded men who might recover I suppose. It'll never bear a full load of grain, let alone coin. You're all done in the city then?"

"Mounts and remounts loaded with temple offerings and other treasure. Then the remounts were loaded again before we rode out of there."

"And you remembered to put our Her eyes?" In addition to burning the complex itself, we'd been under strict orders gouge out the eyes of the god's idols, so that she couldn't get a good look at us and curse us all.

"Yes, sir. All of them. More than a few of the priests tried to rush us after we started that, but we suffered no casualties."

Stenu nodded. "Even Her priests know we've robbed Her of Her power, at least for a little while. Good. Listen, I know you're tired, but I want you at the port today, organizing the merchants and sending them to the camps so our factors can start sales as soon as possible. I'm worried the Carthaginians might send their fleet to chase the traders away before we get their coin."

I'd expected as much. "What about the port itself?"

"I took stock of it yesterday. Excellent natural features. Not worth the time to tear down. But there are shipyards and military docks, make sure those are destroyed thoroughly. Especially the workmens' tools. Its always hard to replace good tools."

"Yes, sir." I turned to start riding towards the port, not looking forward to making my Greek clear and intelligible on a few hours of sleep.

"Tarkun, one last thing."

"Sir?"

"Stay sharp. We've only lost a few hundred men so far, and I want things to stay smooth."

"Sir." Astonishing, really. So many people, doing so much, and in all our vast army of tens of thousands, only a few hundred killed by resistors. Well not so astonishing. I'd choose slavery in a foreign land over certain death.

Over the next few days I worked amicably with the slave traders who came to town, negotiating a little, keeping the slaves from rioting (food and clean water is key), but spending most of my time handling the logistics of moving thousands of people from point A to ships and persons A,B,C,D, etc., without too many mistakes in who goes where. In a situation like this, the merchants are helpful and easy to work with. The best of them were as well-informed about the progress of the war as Stenu and I were, better perhaps, given the speed of sea travel. Waiting not far off the coast for our army to take the port, they organized themselves before I even arrived. The rest heard of our approach to the city a little later, or smelled opportunity as word of Atiqa's capture spread. Taken altogether, the traders represented a massive effort of men and money, nearly as organized as a second army.

All made possible by incredible profits, of course. The traders purchased slaves worth many times the few coins they paid for each one, and their risk and planning would lead to amazing profits selling to the slower, established dealers in the large markets in Bocchoris, Massilia, and Capua. A few traders might go around the major middlemen in the large markets and sell directly to the final owners in the small markets all around the Mediterranean. None of which the Army of Mauretania really cared about. Prices are always good when an army sacks a major city because there's only so much coin the traders can bring before the army has to leave. Our goal isn't to get a good price for each slave, its to ensure the efficient transfer of every single coin the slave traders can scrounge up before we march west. We have so much inventory there's no pressure to make sure each sale counts. The traders share our interests, and it turns out to be a fairly simple system. Those who arrive first and bring the most coin fill their ships with the best slaves. Those who arrive a little later or with a little less coin have to take the second best. And so on and so forth. In the end, all the traders who show up fill their ships completely, and we get all the money they can put together. Haggling is rarely an issue.

My job was simply to keep the process moving as quickly as possible, and make sure the coin gets into Stenu's hands. In the Army of Mauretania, now a disciplined and veteran force, this was not a difficult job. Still, I threw myself into the work, constantly arranging provisions for the captives, confrencing with Greek traders, Sardinian traders, Phoenician traders, Roman traders, everyone people that sailed the western Mediterranean. When I couldn't find reason to do that I watched over the destruction of Atiqa's military port. Every day we were in Atiqa I found ways to work until I was ready to drop from exhaustion, then prayed I could get some restful sleep.The screams and the blood in the streets I could deal with, that I am used to from battle. Its the men's quiet sobbing that I work hard to avoid, that and the empty look on the face of the girl in the courtyard.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania4/084-AtiqaLooting.jpg

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania4/085-AtiqaBurning-1-1.jpg

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania4/086-AtiqaStillBurning.jpg
[I gutted the city, save the port and native barracks. If a city has a famous natural harbor, I don't destroy ports for RP purposes (e.g. Syracuse, Atiqa). If there's a port but its not historically known for its natural advantages, I'll destroy it in a sack (e.g. Messana, Sparta). For RP reasons I also don't destroy native barracks in a faction's homeland or long-held regions, or foreign barracks in long-held or historical-tie non-homeland regions.]

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania4/111-FiniancialTimes.jpg
[Finances after the sack of Atiqa. The money from its enslavement happened the turn before the screenshot, most of the "starting treasury" came from that. Note the construction "profits."

***

[Menibidos of Croton]

Menibidos relaxed on the deck of his ship, enjoying the cool sea air now that land was visible again, off in the distance to starboard. After watering in Lilybaum, a city bursting with trade, industry, and riches taken from Sicilian Greeks and Sikels in the war against Syracuse, Menibidos and his crew had set sail for the coast of Africa. Menibidos, a Greek from Italia, didn't give a second thought to putting into a city currently at war with the Greek cities in Sicily. The cosmopolitan culture of the high seas, encouraged and in part constructed by Carthage in the western Mediterranean, made Menibidos feel safe in a well-ordered port. At sea, sister-ships and a well-paid compliment of archers made him feel safe. Except when he was out of land. No one liked sailing out of sight of land, but it was necessary to get from Sicily to Africa, and Menibidos intended to personally make one more great trading run, pulling most of his non-land wealth out of Croton while the Romans finished the messy business of conquering and reorganizing Bruttium. Eurymines had gotten a message to him that the Moera were marching towards the Mediterranean from Numidia, and slaves would be available wherever they struck, or around Siga when Carthage reinforced Hamalcar and began driving the Maure out of the countryside there. Selling that stock in Iberia or the Baleares would provide more than enough funds to purchase wines, tin, or Celtic ironwork from Roman-controlled Gaul or Massilia, followed by a triumphant return to Magna Graecia.

When four warships, one of them a quinquereme, appeared in the distance, the crew tensed until they saw Phoenician gods painted on the sides of the ships. The Carthaginian navy was well-liked among traders in the western Mediterranean for its frequent actions against pirates. In fact, Menibidos relaxed again until the warships drew next his ship and its sister-ships and demanded to search them. His broken Phoenician was enough to explain they were simple traders, not carrying enough oars for piracy, which should be obvious. When the Carthaginians demanded to see the hold, he began to worry. The naval officer, wiser than his young age, stayed silent after seeing the cheap grain, barrels of water, and chests of coin. He took a small handful of silver, which Menibidos assumed was the reason for the inspection, and returned to the deck. Before the Greek captain could react, Celtic marines were swarming over his ship and two Carthaginians were dragging him onto the quinquereme.

In Carthage he saw Menibidos saw a sight he'd previously discounted as rumor, the great circular port of the Carthaginian fleet. Distracted by the disaster that had befallen him, its extensive construction and ingenious design was lost on Menibidos, who would have been fascinated not long ago. Accused before the gods of slave-trading, Menibidos found no humor in the irony of it all. His family had first made its fortune selling Italian slaves from towns resisting Pyrrhus' control of Calabria to the Carthaginians in Lilybaum. But the great metropolis took a dim view of the sale of people from its sister-city to the northwest. Thrown upon the questionable mercy of Baal, Menibidos saw the other captains in his convoy sacrificed to the Carthaginian gods to prevent their retribution for the city's failures in battle and to beg for their aid. He cried with genuine relief and emotion when the officiating priest declared him innocent before the eyes of the gods and he was let out onto the streets of Carthage, a free man.

Paranoia, mistrust, and secrecy had saved his life. Menibidos always kept his few gold coins secreted on his person, and the day his ship had been boarded was no exception. It had been enough to corrupt a priest of Baal. Menibidos made straight for the port. He had no hope to save his ship, but there were always the grain-traders, those stodgy safe types who made a measured profit taking food from one end of the world to the other. An experienced hand might find work on one headed for Italia, and home.

***

[Tarkun of Siga]

The baggage train loaded with coin, provisions, and the other spoils of Atiqa, the Army of Mauretania marched west along the good coastal roads. Stenu intended to retake Ippone, and fortify that port against Carthaginian retaliation by land westward, while bringing the whole territory between the city and Siga under Maure control, a strategy I agreed with in principle, although I worried about this news Hamalcar had occupied Siga. With a small army he could blockade trade and prevent the Army of Mauretania's resupply, but do little to change the essential Maure character of the countryside. My family's possessions far enough from the city to the south they should be safe - if Hamalcar was not reinforced. Stenu was certain Lina Sagun would send an army to retake the city from Atlantic Maure, while I wondered why he didn't speak of Ti Sagun.

In any case, there was an urgent need to secure our plunder and reinforce the army, for which we needed a safe base of operations, and Ippone was the nearest possible choice. The Army of Mauretania didn't miss a step, marching west with all the alacrity and determination it had showed throughout the campaign. There was hardly a grumble about our reduced numbers. After Adrumento, every surviving man was an experienced veteran with face-to-face time with the enemy, not just pushing in the back ranks. Twenty-seven thousand Maure marched on the dusty roads of Africa, but after only a week an approaching force was spotted by the scouts. To a man, the men were ready to defend our plunder in another tough fight with Carthaginian professionals, but reports soon came in that it wasn't a Carthaginian army, it was a Numidian force.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania4/092-NumidiansAttack.jpg

Recruited by the Numidian nobility loyal to Carthage, which was most of them, as they respected the power of that great city in a long war, and funded by Bomilcar, the Numidian army was the mobilization of nearly every patriot in the province. Although between Milkpilles' actions a decade earlier, our own destructive march through pasture lands, and the nobles' reluctance to go to war personally, it soon became apparent the enemy had brought little cavalry. Estimated at slightly fewer in number, Stenu and I both agreed to continue marching, although we could have to ensure the army's herds and baggage train was well guarded and on the opposite side of the column from the Numidian army. If they wanted to guard the south road into Numidia, fine. If they wanted to give battle to seek revenge and prevent us from reaching Ippone, well, Stenu and I agreed the Numidian masses would prove little threat to experienced Maure warriors, no matter how well-armed Bomilcar had made them. Our only serious concern was the large number of elephants they brought to the battle. But Maure are not unfamiliar with the great beasts, and even our villagers know how to scare off the beasts with skilled use of the javelin.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania4/091-YouGottaBeShittingMeNumidians.jpg

As the two forces closed upon each other, it was clear the Numidians wished to give battle. After heavily fortifying a camp to protect the baggage train, we obliged. Stenu ordered the army into a loose skirmishing formation, a reasonable precaution against elephants and the Numidian style of battle. I was worried about how well the men would adapt to a skirmishing pattern after years of preparing for and fighting close-order battles against Carthaginian professionals, but it was hard to argue against nearly fifty elephants. Stenu encouraged the army with a rousing speech, which held more or less the same meaning after it was passed down the lines from unit to unit.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania4/093-HeDidNotHaveMuchToDoWithIt.jpg

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania4/094-NumidianBattleOpening.jpg

The Numidians sent in half of their great beasts at the start of battle to disrupt our formation, presumably so their great mass of mobile missle troops could gain the advantage in the inevitable skirmishes. The rest of their elephants were protected behind their lines. The first rush did little damage, as javelins drove the beasts back or killed them out right, and fleet-footed Maure are not easily caught by the beasts. A general exchange of missiles developed along the line, a battle for which Maure are well-suited, although so too are Numidians. It began to be clear that this sort of fight showed none of our advantages, and some of our men moved out of position as they followed orders to prioritize attacks on the fearsome elephants.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania4/085-NumidianBattleJavsAndEles.jpg

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania4/095-NumidianBattleSkirmish.jpg

With the elephants in front of the army killed or driven off, our right advanced forward to meet the Numidians in close combat, where Maure swordsmanship should prove stronger than the Numidian line. The left, with the advantage of height, continued to skirmish. Once locked into melee, the Numidians commited their elephant reserves, exposing them to our fire, but sending them to our right flank as we pressed the Numidian line back. To the dismay of Stenu and I, they immediately disrupted our lines with their bulk, giving the Numidian infantry time to press forward and attack our broken formations. When the beasts broke through our front lines and turned north, towards our left flank, Stenu led a daring cavalry charge that killed two of the beasts and retreated before they could turn and gore more than a few of our horses.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania4/097-OkSlightProblem.jpg

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania4/098-MoreElephantPics.jpg

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania4/099-CatchEmUnawares.jpg

The chaos created by the elephants had disrupted our right flank to the extent that a unit of unarmored Numidian spearmen, fighting in the style of the Garamites, penetrated all the way to the rear of our formation and met our reserves. Alarmed at the audacity and ferocity of the Numidian attack, Stenu ordered our cavalry, circling away from the elephants, to break the enemy unit before the rift in our line became permanent. Swept by the flow of the battle, Stenu himself, founder and leader of all Mauretania, head of the Army of Mauretania, led the charge, perfectly executed into the back of the enemy force. The enemy speamen were crushed, but the men said later that single Numidian had turned and cowered when he heard the onrushing cavalry. Who knows what the unexpected action did? Maybe the spearpoint swept across a horse's sensitive nose, maybe one of the mounts, however unlikely, simply tripped over a Numidian. All I recall is the surreal sense of unreality sweep over me as my own band of horse rode past the broken Numidians, and saw one lying next to Stenu, both bodies trapped by his fallen horse and trampled by the charging cavalry.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania4/100-LolStupidGaramantines.jpg
[Stenu, as the lances lowered, seconds before being trampled to death. Notice the 58 healthy bodyguards and the completely exposed backs of the enemy. The general's death movie popped up the very instant the lines began to touch. I know, because I was fully zoomed in expecting to get a nice charge screenshot. It was one of the most shocking general deaths I've ever had in Total War games, bested only by the first time I lost a general to a ballista shot before combat even began and the first time I lost one falling off a wall when he was 40 ranks away from the enemy.]

Spooked by the elephants, the center of our lines fled north to join the massed left flank, as I struggled to rally our beleaguered right. The battlefield was too chaotic for word of Stenu's death to spread quickly, as beloved as he was by the men it could have lead to a total rout, but the isolated and embattled flank was facing a large part of the Numidian army. I struggled to hold them in place, as the gathered men on the left drove off or killed the last of the elephants on the field and charged into the center of the disorganized Numidian mass to relieve us.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania4/102-NumidianBattleZoomOut.jpg

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania4/101-OMGSTenuDead.jpg

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania4/103-ItsUpToThem.jpg

My own charge into the back of a Numidian spear unit caused an unexpected flutter in my stomach, but they were broken and with the bulk of the enemy rushing to meet the Maure charging from above, the right was temporarily relieved. I directed my own men to try and break their lines at the point of farthest penetration by the left as the exhausted infantry of the right slowly followed.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania4/106-ImGoingToWinThis.jpg

But the Numidians wouldn't break. They stayed and fought, careless of their own lives. Bit by bit, they were destroying the Army of Mauretania. The exhausted troops on the right simply couldn't find the will to charge uphill into the ranks of the enemy, no matter how desperately the encircled left needed the relief. When I saw one of the flanks begin to crumble, I was forced to circle the battlefield and order a general retreat back to camp, the exhausted and decimated cavalry doing its utmost to keep the fanatical Numidian army from running the retreating troops down.

By some miracle, we made it back to camp. The Numidians finally decided to look after their numberless wounded. We were forced to leave ours. I gathered the surviving officers and organized the army's camp within a matter of hours. Leaving the grain wagons and taking only the coin, treasure, and a few herds, we retreated east at speed, the Army of Numidia only a third of the number it had been after marching triumphantly out of Atiqa. The speed was not only the result of the fear of the Numidian army close on our heels. We had to make Atiqa before the citizens reorganized it and put together a force to man the gates, or we would all die of starvation or violence on the rich, fertile plains of Phoenician Africa.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania4/107-HatCloseup.jpg

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https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania4/110-HeroicDeath.jpg

On forced marching and little sleep we made the western gate of Atiqa in time, and hid within the walls of the city, taking over the poorest, but least damaged, quarter of the city. There was no sack this time, just a military area guarded from within the city as well as without. The few remaining residents hid in the abandoned alleyways of the rest of the town. Our position was dire. Total destruction by the victorious Numidians to the west had been avoided only because the efficiency and totality of the sack of Atiqa had prevented any organization of the city as the Army of Mauretania marched west. Posessing no ships, the sea was also closed to us. The only option open was south, crossing the few rivers and disappearing behind the coastal range. But I well knew that at any time, Carthage could move its garrison to intercept and probably crush us. It was unlikely, if only because the Carthage is so unwilling to leave its walls completely undefended for any reason or potential gain. But it was possible. The only advantage we had was the vast store of treasure available to us.

As I consolidated permanent control of the remnants of the Army of Mauretania, not difficult to do as I had been Stenu's second-in-command, I held mourning to a minimum and sent out riders into the countryside and talked to ship captains. Quicker than I would have believed possible, a force of almost fourteen thousand mercenaries had been assembled, as many as I dared try and control with the men I had left to me, and I negotiated with their captains.

The negotiations went quickly, both because I probably agreed to larger upfront sums than the Carthaginians typically paid in my ignorance, and with the evidence of the potential for plunder surrounding the Army of Mauretania in the form of the shattered city of Atiqa. A little over half of the mercenaries were Maure, most from around Siga, who had organized themselves after Hamalcar took the city. They claimed to have been moving east to find us, but I knew better. They'd been planning to hire themselves to Carthage, but were just as delighted to take money from their own people. The traitorous dogs made me sick, but I believed they'd fight for us. Balearic slingers were also collected, coming north after disembarking at Ippone and marching east behind the coastal range towards Carthage. Instead, my riders found them and they hired with us, expecting Carthage to fight a defensive war with little hope of plunder. Finally, exotic Ligurians from the far north of Italia put into the port of Atiqa, expecting to be hired for the defense of the city but finding us here instead.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania4/114-MercsLastResourceOfTheDamned.jpg

Carthage's own reputation as a paymaster and call for forces might just save the Army of Mauretania. With my own loyal veterans guarding the baggage train and its vast reserve of coin, we marched south immediately. We had to turn west again, hopefully hidden by the coastal range from the Numidians, before Carthage could block the bridges and trap us. Only the mercenaries complained at the rapid movement. For the true men of Mauretania, what was a few hundred more miles?

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania4/115-WorldMapUpdate.jpg

[MisterFred]

I hope the atrocities didn't turn off any readers. The Maure-Carthaginian war is a particularly ugly, brutish one and I decided not to whitewash it. I know most people prefer humorous AARs, but I've never been very good at consistently writing humor, so I generally don't go in that direction.

[Ghaust the Moor]

Oh it defently didn't put me off. I find it rather refreshing that someone buts an AAR into a more realistic and Grimdark atmosphere. Great work

[Brave Brave Sir Robin]

Awesome work! Just started reading. I especially enjoy the battle against those Numidians who were obviously veterans of god knows how many wars.

[Tanit]

Just started reading, awesome work here. The Mauretani were on the list for potential EB2 factions, but they didn't quite get in. Love seeing my Africans duking it out in such an awesome story!

[gamegeek2]

That was simply amazing.

There's not a whole lot more I can say than that - it was just incredible.

[One question though: Why not hire some Gauls? Seem like they might be more trustworthy than traitors]

[MisterFred]

Thank you Tanit! For your comment and your hard work on North Africa.

Gamegeek: At the time I hired the mercenaries I was thinking that most mercenaries would be unable or unwilling to fight for Mauretania (uncertain whether they'll win, no historic recruiting connections, no ability to transport themselves to the region). Remember the mercenary recruitment areas are really supposed to be more Carthage's available mercenaries. So I figured I'd limit myself only to African mercs or notable sea-faring cultures. This canceled out the phalanx and possibly thureophoroi, as I assumed they were a heavier, more eastern med style of Greek warrior. And it took the Gauls out of play (uncertain transport to Africa if Carthage isn't helping). I figured Tarkun would be leery of Iberian mercenaries because of the cold war between the Lusotann and Mauretania, although they could just as easily been an independent tribe. Eventually I went with the troops I did because I figured speed, maneuverability, and "looks like they'd be fast on a march" were priorities. (I mis-remembered the Ligurians as "fast-moving" troops.)

[MisterFred]

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania/Title2.jpg
by Ti Sagun

[Ch. 14]

An unpleasant bit of gas had awoken me one night when I heard light footsteps outside the door to my chamber in the residence I had taken over. I grabbed my blanket, remaining barefoot and therefore quieter than the intruder, and wound it as tightly as it would go. Hiding by my door, I pounced as soon as the intruder brushed aside the curtain to my room and entered the chamber. I looped the blanket around him in an attempt to tie up his arms and pulled the man to the floor. He cut through the blanket and into my side before I wrested his long knife away from him, plunged it into his breast, and staggered out the door. I tripped and fell into the shallow courtyard pool, and lay there in the water, bleeding, until my residence's guards found me in the commotion. The intruder was a Numidian, but paid in gold, which means anyone from just about anywhere could have sent him. I resolved to complain less when the cook used suspect meat in the future.

In the morning I feigned a lack of concern and had breakfast at my usual time, considering the day ahead of me. I had planned to visit a village outside of Sala as part of my efforts to push the new recruitment drive. By the time I was ready to leave the city, my bodyguard volunteered to double their watches, which was appreciated as it got rid of the need to demand an increase myself.

The ride south was unpleasant, as it gave me plenty of time to consider who wanted me dead. Certainly, Carthaginian senators themselves were a possibility. It was, after all, I who raised the Army of Mauretania, who led Atlantic Maure, who had unified a people. Of course, the most likely Carthaginian to consider me a personal problem was Hamalcar, the old warhorse who had locked himself tight in Siga. A tiny Carthaginian force had scouted one of the inland passes into Atlantic Maure before escaping to report back. If Hamalcar expected reinforcements or had some crazy idea to send an officer with a small army to invade, what better way to prevent an organized response than by assassinating the head of Atlantic Maure?

If that were the case, I intended to make sure Hamalcar was sorely disappointed. After a few years of embargo, trade between Ibera and Mauretania was booming, creating profits like never before. Years ago Carthage had suppressed piracy in the western Mediterranean, and with the loss of Bocchoris and the Sicilian war, their fleet had no opportunity to engage in seizures. With the government finally solvent, and a new generation of boys entering manhood, I intended to once again raise the Maure. To begin a second army that would march east, retake Siga, and reinforce Stenu's Army of Mauretania.

Already men from the southern reaches of Mauretania, land from the edge of Atlantic Maure and even just beyond the Atlas mountains that was incorporated into the state only because of my insistence on the southern campaign, were arriving in Sala. These grown men, some even in their thirties, would form a stabilizing core around which the young generation of the rest of Atlantic Maure could rally.

What about the Iberians? There may be many Lusotann that blamed me for the loss of Mauretania as a client kingdom as a result of Lina's plot with Stenu that forced independence. The Lusotann proper had never recovered from the total loss of their armies in Africa and the invasion of the green isle by the mad king Ambron. Every year the true power in their confederation of tribes moved farther and farther to the north, with the Celticized Iberians who hated Rome and longed to punish the tribes on the peninsula that had submitted to Latin rule. But for the same reasons, Mauretania was a forgotten land for most Lusotann. And anyone seeking revenge for the killing of Cardocca or the maiming of Famo probably knew Lina held responsibility for those deeds, not I. My dear wife had practically made theatre of the insanity.

I tried not to eye the swords of the recruits I reviewed. Or look for bulges in the clothes of local leaders I praised for their efforts in supporting the new levy. I think I managed. My presence wasn't strictly necessary. Both the south and Sala itself were well on their way to meeting their quotas. But stepping in to congratulate folks and promote Mauretania never hurt... and it helped prevent problems from developing in the future. I'd never been a party-goer before I met Lina. But she taught me that simple interaction, like sharing a drink with the village chief, can make more difference in getting a man to support you than all the reasoned self-interest in the world. Strange, that.

My wife sees the world differently than I do, I know that. How differently, was the question. Could our courtship have been little more than me sharing a drink with Chief Whatshisname? No, impossible. But they say women get revenge with poison or hired knives. I suspect Lina's had people killed before. Impossible. Were my politics right? She got Stenu to declare independence and forced it on me when I didn't support it. Madness, it didn't matter. We'd disagreed before, we would again. Our love was stronger that mere politics. No doubt of it.

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***

[Lina Utrana Sagun]

"Haroon, dear, so good of you to come this morning!" I leaned forward and kissed the grizzled Lusotann on the cheek after waving for the girl to bring some fruit.

Haroon grunted. Although in acknowledgement that he was punctual after I'd ordered him to report this morning or out of discomfort in being welcomed by someone who was rumored to have had harsh dealings with other Lusotann in the past, I couldn't tell you.

Nasty things, rumors.

"Is everything provided for in your home? I want to feel as if Lixus herself welcomes you with open arms."

"Herself? I'd rather she welcome me with open legs, then." Men. I put my hand to my mouth in fake-shock and looked at Haroon with disapproval. "Improper I know. Terribly crude of me. Rough Iberian nature, all that. This is horse-time, man-time. You hired me for a job. I want to do the job. You want me to become attached to the house of Sagun, be blunt with me. I don't do platitudes if the situation doesn't demand it."

"House of Utrana, actually. NOT Sagun." I thought fast. Haroon had seemed properly charmed by the full force of the dance of hospitality only the day before yesterday, when I'd welcomed him off the docks and gave him time to settle in. Well, I wanted him happy and efficient.

"You are Ti Sagun's wife, are you not?" Haroon seemed genuinely confused.

"Of course. But I am also the matriarch of the Utrana clan. Tribe, extended family, whatever you want to call it. I'm hiring you in that capacity. To train Utrana's boys."

"Hrm." This seemed a tad unexpected to Haroon. Perhaps I needed a new scribe for letters written in Lusotann. I could only speak the language. "Does the governor know about this?"

"No. I haven't told him. In case it's not clear, you're working for me, not him." This seemed to annoy Haroon for some reason. I would have expected the opposite. Haroon was supposed to be an old warrior, a liege man from a family that had been liege men from the times when Lusotann was small. And poor. As a royalist, and a Lusotann, he twice poorly positioned. The Celt-Iberians led the coalition these days. There was even talk of moving the capitol up north. The Lusotann anti-royalists, who'd won out over the royalists only to find their tribe as a whole struggling to maintain primacy, needed more resources to maintain their prominence and needed less annoying nagging about supporting Ambron across the seas.

So Haroon found his small holdings confiscated on a technicality and was no longer a man of power in Oxtraca. But he was still an old warrior. And loyal to a fault, or at least had been once. The perfect man to train the sons of Utrana.

"Very well. I can train these Utrana boys to fight together, put together a retinue for them. You'll need recruits as well, if they're to have a proper guard. Can't have 'em all in the family or you can't send one son... cousin, whatever, in town and send the other across the river. I know the kind of men you'll want to look for, and I'm sure you have people that can do the looking."

I nodded, once. Simple communication for a simple man. Direct. Boring.

"Good. Today I intend to look over your horses and the area I'll use for training. Then I'll probably have to see about buying more and better horses. You want to create a royal guard, you'll need the best."

"Not a royal guard, Haroon. An honor guard." The girl finally came with fruit. I waved her way.

"Same thing."

"No. This is important. It is not a royal guard, Haroon." He narrowed his eyes and examined me closely. Of course I was asking him to train a royal guard. But the image of authority comes before the actual assumption.

"Very well. Tomorrow I will buy the paints, and prepare the sacrifices. If you have any house gods, send one who can speak for them to me that morning, lest they go un-honored."

"Paints?" Now I was confused.

"Yes," Haroon adopted the sort of tone some men use when talking to women of military matters. "The men will be bound together and strengthened for battle with ritual and the blessing of the gods. The horses will be marked, and tied to each rider in spirit even as they are tied together in training. The Lusotann have long known the importance of this. It binds the bodyguard together with sacred oath, that the importance of one man becomes the importance of them all."

And thus allows the patsies to feel as if they are defending themselves when they save the life of the master. Very well, silver for paints seems like a bargain. I looked enlightened to signal Haroon I took him seriously and that he should move on.

"The day after tomorrow, I will begin the training. It will be hard, physically. So send important weaklings later, so that those who have been hardened can blame their weakness on newness, and not inherent disability. I will work with them on off days, in secret, to show them how to survive in battle without shaming themselves."

It took me awhile to work that out, but when I did I gained a level of respect for Haroon. He just might work out. We talked for a few more minutes, arranging expenses and other details. Equipping an Utrana cavalry force was going to be hideously expensive. Still, the best investments often are in the beginning.

In the evening I went to see Sanion. He was still a boy, but thought himself a man already. Sanion was the first Utrana I intended to send to Haroon for training. He was strong physically and he wanted to prove himself in battle. Not the brightest tool in the shed, nor the straightest arrow, but he was loyal.

I walked into his home in the city, a useful set of rooms we Utrana use when coming in from the countryside. I greeted Sanion but none of the other young men pouring from a jug of wine. He got the hint after only a few minutes of waiting and got them to move outside.

"Why are you... I mean I didn't... you haven't come here before."

I let Sanion wonder if I'd seen the young woman who'd hid in a storage room and reminded myself to keep my voice low. "You're not going to be a member of Melman's bodyguard." Deliver the blow first, settle that, then the important matters can be dealt with.

"What? But..." I shook my head to cut off Sanion's pleading. He persisted anyway. "But I've always supported the family." This was true. Sanion had been one of the boys that helped burn Cardocca's ship to prevent the outgoing Lusotann administration from escaping Lixus.

"Oh, dear, this isn't a punishment." I flashed a reassuring smile to drive the point home, pretending to be shocked that Sanion might think it was. "It's just that you're better than that. I wanted a good man around Melman, but any number of people can do that. I've hired a Lusotann chieftan to see about putting together an elite force, and I'm sending you to him in a few days."

The importance of this didn't seem to sink in. "But I've already been training hard. You said I might be an officer in the new army being raised, and..."

He didn't want to give up a title? The boy was smarter than I thought. "Sanion, dear, this is going to be an Utrana force, elite cavalry. You're not just going to be in it. You're going to command it. Melman's as smart as a rock, we'll need better than him someday."

Sanion's eyes went wide, as he imagined greater possibilities than I intended for him. He was the test for the new investment. To see if the army would respect Utrana leaders because they came from me. I'd have to be careful tonight to manage his expectations, so that they were a tad lower than I envisioned for him and he would perfom his duties with the energy and vigor of a man who constantly thinks he's exceeding expectations.

And I certainly didn't want one of my rising stars to be under Melman's command if that idiot was put in charge of the new levy. He was little more than a competent trainer of men, but Ti had written recently he thought Melman was ready for command. Ridiculous. He was ready to be Ti's dog, but nothing else. My dear husband had been overly concerned about people's loyalty to him personally lately. It was a potential problem, now that Hamalcar had finally sent a real force west out of Siga.

Carthage wasn't truly backing Hamalcar yet, or Atlantic Maure would be in serious trouble. As it was, we were lucky Ti had finally gotten his way with the new troop levy he'd been pushing. I'd been wrong about waiting to ensure the Iberian trade could support a new army, but thankfully Ti had overruled me. The Carthaginian army coming over the Atlas mountains was in for a nasty surprise thanks to Ti's preparations.

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***

[Ti Sagun]

Melman and I reviewed the southern recruits the day they left camp outside of Sala and marched for Lixus, where they would be given their swords and helmets produced at the foundries there. Each man was responsible for their own shield and javelins. I was pleased to see most men had elephant-hide shields, evidence of the mighty hunting prowess of the Maure.

The men walked by us in units, and we frowned if someone looked out of place, complimented those who looked particularly sharp. It was good for them to see their new commander, Melman, who I had finally decided to put in charge of the newly raised army. Melman was inexperienced, true, but he was a doughty fighter, and I expected he would learn on the job. And he was bound to me, no one else who mattered had supported his career.

In the evening we discussed the battle of Lixus, when I defeated a much smaller Carthaginian army surprised by the size and scope of my Army of Mauretania. It had been an uncomplicated affair, as the Army of Mauretania met the Carthaginian line head on and badly out-flanked it to one side. When their cavalry tried to stem the die, a few reserve units and my own personal guard had stopped them and the Carthaginian line collapsed under the weight of our numbers. Simple, but effective. These were the kinds of tactics I expected Melman could handle.

"We should have the advantage in numbers again if Hamalcar sends a force down upon Atlantic Maure. I will seek to give battle at the first opportunity, catch him on a flat and be done with it. This will prevent significant damage to the countryside, and allow us to retreat into one of the cities if the gods go against us."

I nodded, agreeing with Melmen it was an obvious and therefore probably correct plan. "And if the Carthaginian force on the far side of the Atlas mountains strikes now, with speed?"

Melman scoffed at the notion. "It is unlikely. I expect a second feint; after all, the first one worked so well. I expect they will pull back and ravage the hills south of the Pillars of Hercules. Stenu's poor family may suffer some raids, but I expect that will be all this season. If they shall make for Lixus, I need only meet the army and crush them. But I think I shall stay here in Sala for a few weeks before traveling north."

I frowned. "It might be best if you did not. If the Carthaginians crossed the Atlas and marched fast on Sala, you could find yourself trapped away from the army and behind the rivers. And you would have more time for the army to get used to your command."

Melman waved away the worry. "The officers know who is in charge. And I think my business is best served here for the time being. As for the Carthaginians marching on Sala, they know well Lixus is essentially the key to Atlantic Maure, the heart of our movement."

Then why did Melman want to be here? Simple. I was the heart of the national movement in Atlantic Maure, the man with all the authority. He had only arrived a few days ago, and he wanted all the lesser nobles, important men in Sala, and other hangers on to see he was a man I esteemed before he left. Not, perhaps, what I would do, but a minor matter.

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***

[Lina Utrana Sagun]

I watched the painted horses from the southern wall of Lixus. From this distance they were little more than a brown stream dotted with little gems flowing over the hills and gullies outside the city. Haroon was still focusing on riding lessons, not even beginning combat drills yet. He insisted riding be taught first, which offended dear Sanion and his companions, who already considered themselves horsemen. Still, they could little argue when old stiff Haroon mounted his horse and became grace itself, weaving in and out of the mounted Utrana and taunting them for their overconfidence. I still wasn't sure if he would be as effective a trainer as my agents in Iberia claimed, but I could not fault Haroon's work ethic.

The same could not be said for accursed Melman. Much as I loved watching my band of painted-horse Utrana grow, it was not them I truly wanted to see. I wanted the dust of the commander of this new army's horses to appear on the horizon. That they might move south soon. Today. This very second.

Hamalcar's force had marched over the Atlas with sudden intent, crossing the mountains by the time their movements were reported. Already I was learning that they marched as quickly as any Maure army had managed, forgoing even the lightest pillage for a few more miles of movement each day. And they marched southwest, for Sala. While the army, complete with shiny weapons, the best of Lixus' forges, was stranded in the north without a head. For four days now, I had stood on this southern wall and watched, and waited. My messages to the army's camp outside the eastern wall had gone unheeded.

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[Melman is not Mauretania's best general.]

Today, another long day, was soon to pass, the lengthening shadows speaking again of the setting sun. I left the wall, heading towards the eastern gate. There was a public house there, with private rooms, near to the army's camp.

Private rooms, as it turns out, are incredibly poorly lit. Despite four candles, and a small window - unfortunately facing east - it was still difficult to see the faces of the two men who finally came to join me. I had been expecting more, and four glasses of wine were already poured. Unfortunate.

"Madame Utrana"

"Mrs. Sagun"

The two men talked over each other as they greeted me, confused both by my presence and their own different words. "Sit down please, gentlemen. Share some wine with me and introduce yourselves."

"I am Pintamos. Don't mind if I do." The taller of the two guarded his expression well, but accepted the wine I offered. He was lighter than most Maure, although by candlelight I couldn't tell if he was half Greek, half Phoenician, half Numidian, half Iberian, or, well, simply a lighter Maure.

"And I am Stenu. No relation." The other man was a bit more abrupt. "Thank you for the offer, but I don't drink alcohol." I watched Pintamos' face to see if he was surprised by that, but he gave no reaction.

Pintamos spoke up before I could begin. "We are most busy at the moment, Madame Utrana. The message from Abulos insisted we take some time out of our schedule to meet with important Lixus nobles."

I smiled thinly, showing my displeasure. "I am the most important noble in Lixus. Abulos included. I was not happy to have to ask him to arrange this meeting."

"Mrs. Sagun, we have received your messages insisting we march south immediately. We simply have not had the chance to respond."

I removed the displeasure from my face and stared without expression at this other Stenu, which I often find is received more ominously because it conveys the impression that I don't need to send a simple message... my displeasure would be shown in more tangible ways. "You have not had time. What, pray, have you been doing as the army sits in camp and... sits?"

Pintamos set down his wine and put his hands together in a placating gesture. "Keeping an army ready to move on command is more difficult than it seems for officers, especially if the day to march keeps being delayed. Discipline must be maintained, soldiers leaving camp for recreation must be tracked down and brought back, the animals must be kept in constant readiness without wasting them for lack of exercise. It is, frankly, as much work for unit leaders as battle."

The organization of men in the face of constant eroding forces. Yes, that did make sense. But more importantly, "so the army is ready to march as soon as the command is given?"

"Of course." Stenu looked indignant.

I leaned forward, straining my eyes and watching them both carefully. "Then march. I give the order. Abulus will write it out and sign it. In the absence of my husband, Ti, we are all the authority in Lixus. March, and banish the enemy from our lands. What could be simpler?"

Both of them looked as if they wanted to. Stenu was held back by fear, of punishment perhaps. Pintamos had a more complicated look. It was he that answered. "Your husband, Ti, was most explicit as we left Sala. The troops marched past him, standing by Melman, as he clearly delegated his authority. Moreover, the night previously he had called the three southern captains together and instructed us all to put our full faith in Melman, to take his orders as Ti's own. And Melman told us to wait here at Lixus to rally the army personally."

I very nearly ground my teeth in frustration. Men and their insecurities! If Ti needed someone so desperately loyal, could he not have chosen someone with a brain? "Then there are three captains who all agree with this insane waiting game?"

"Five. Two from Lixus with the northern levies, both having received similarly clear instructions." Pintamos's voice was firm, as if he was he wanted me to be certain of this fact and the difficulty it would present me if I tried to change it. Which meant that, on some level, he understood politics. Interesting. But not immediately helpful. This new Stenu might be the weaker link.

"Well please take this wine back to the other captains. Tell them to save it to toast the Carthaginian occupation of Sala." Pintamos's expression was hostile, but he took the wine. I could figure out later what that meant.

As they left, I separated the weaker captain from Pintamos. "Stenu, wait."

"Yes?" He stayed as Pintamos left.

"If this army fails to move, and Sala falls. I will destroy you. Ti will destroy you. You will take all the blame for the illness you have been infected with by Melman." I stood up, and did my best to adopt the aura of power I knew I could project. Although I was used to better lighting. "I will personally crush your family, drive them from Atlantic Maure. Or you can be the hero. March the army south. Save Atlantic Maure from a terrible fate."

It almost worked. But something rallied this lesser Stenu. "I met Ti in the south. He's an inspiration. The strongest will I've met, Mauretania in person. He gave me an order. I refuse to believe he'd hang me for following it. And he's not the sort of man to be ruled by his wife." The idiot actually bared his teeth at me before leaving.

Well, it was true. Ti was not the sort of man to be ruled by his wife. Which I had to admit was one of his best qualities. But Stenu was too simple to understand a couple where one or the other didn't dominate, that both could be independent powers. Frustrating.

I left the public house and left to find my blacksmith, a crafty old Celt who knew how to charge high prices for wares other smiths didn't have the skill to make. Night had already fallen, but I pounded on his door until his wife woke and I waited for her to bring him.

"Sagun-wife. I sleep. Talk tomorrow." The smith's genius with the hammer did not extend to linguistics. Thankfully, the Celt's wife was nearby in case more complicated translation was needed.

"Are they done?"

The smith shook his head. "No." I'd thought not.

I pulled out three gold coins and held them up in the moonllight. "A bonus if you finish by the morning. If you cannot, I'll never hire you again." My business alone might not carry that much weight. But the lesser noblewomen who revolved around me had started acquiring certain decorative fixtures they'd seen at my residence.

The smith worked that out for a bit before turning and shouting. "Boy!" I smiled at the man's wife and left to go to bed, still frustrated I'd failed to move Pintamos and Stenu with my usual means.

***

In the morning the smith earned his gold coins, and his wife gave me a thick padded linen tunic to wear, which did absolute horrors with my figure, and I put it on. The Celt and his boy helped me into the thin chainmail I'd ordered. It was cut to a woman's figure, but the weight still felt heavy and uncomfortable on my shoulders and breasts.

As I walked to the city's eastern gate, my sword, fashioned in the Maure style, bumped uncomfortably against my leg. I didn't like how it pulled on one side and not the other. Stares and shocked faces were my companions through the city, which was not my favorite state of affairs.

As dawn approached, the gate was still locked. The men on duty, as uncomfortable with my appearance as I felt - I hoped I was successfully hiding that - started to open the side door, but I stopped them and ordered the main gate opened.

This took a while, and gave the opportunity to adjust my appearance. This took some planning, as looking my best armed and wearing Celtic chainmail was a first for me, to say the least. I rarely wielded even a kitchen knife. Finally I unsheathed my sword and placed it carefully on my right shoulder, trying to look as if I'd casually swung it there. That took the uncomfortable weight from my hip and the naked blade gave me more of a martial air, I hoped. I shrugged my shoulders, trying to take some of the weight off my chest, failed, and stepped forward into the rising sunlight.

The army camp was just stirring as the dawn sun rose. It was as perfect an entrance as I could manage. The great eastern gates swung open for me, and I stood bathed in the early morning light, chainmail and bared sword shining in the light. It was too early for sweat to appear on my brow, and no one need know about the dampness in my armpits.

I was nervous. As I strode forward, doing my best to exude confidence, I considered the butterflies in my stomach. It seemed my instinct told me I was going to lose this gamble. Oh. Too late now.

Whoever was manning the makeshift gate in the army's camp opened it without challenging me, thank goodness. If I'd been stopped and had to wait for someone in authority to be summoned, I might as well give up now.

I strode through the camp with purpose, but adopting a deceptively slow gait to allow as many gawkers and curious men to accumulate. I didn't respond to any questions, but I smiled and nodded in the right direction when one of my names was called out. It was a grim smile, intended to communicate my purpose.

By the time I made it to the largest tent in camp, which I dearly hoped was the command tent, quite the crowd had gathered. I turned before entering, still carrying the bared sword on my shoulder, surrounded by men amazed at my appearance and presence. By now I hoped most of them knew who I was, there should be a number of young men from Lixus who would know me by sight. It wasn't that big a city.

One of the closer warriors asked the question. "Madame Lina, what...?"

Confusion creates the perfect stage. I couldn't have planned it better. "Today I march south. A good wife does not leave her husband to face danger alone. I do hope some of you will come with me." I flashed a brief feminine but not girlish smile, my voice not quite adopting a formal tone. A few in the front row, who could hear my voice, gave a ragged cheer. They, too, wanted out of camp.

I'd chosen a quiet voice and my words carefully. Maure men would never understand a woman trying to take control of the army. A woman in armor was just bizarre. But a wife dutifully standing by her husband was a motivation everyone could understand. Hopefully, there was a chance that was the explanation that would stick in their minds. By speaking softly, I ensured that those in the front of the crowd would have to explain it to those in the back. The two things in the whole charade that were easiest to explain were march south and a wife running to her husband in danger. Plus, the crowd wouldn't disperse as those in the back waited to hear what I'd said, and the men discussed the idea.

I turned and entered the tent. Five men stood before me, including Pintamos and Stenu. As I'd expected, my slow approach had sent them scurrying to common ground to figure out what the heck I was doing and what they should do.

"What god has seized your brain, and what do you think you are doing?" That was one of the ones I didn't know, but he had a Lixus accent. It seemed they hadn't gotten very far in their discussions. I let them wait for an answer, lifting my sword from my shoulder and carefully trying to put it back in its sheath. I missed on the first attempt, and had to jerk my left hand back to avoid being cut. Thankfully I got it on the second try, as Stenu started forward, presumably to take the weapon out of my hands.

"A woman does not belong in the camp. Especially one mocking the role of the warrior." Another man I didn't know, a southerner. He was loud, as the other man been, trying to take control of a situation flush with confusion and uncertainty for the men.

"Even a woman with more balls than the rest of you combined?" I asked quietly. "I'll tell you exactly what I'm doing. I'm taking this army south. I'm doing YOUR duty, defending this country. If any of you are man enough to join me, you're welcome to come along."

"How dare!?..." I wouldn't quite say they growled, but most of them made some noise as they looked for words to respond.

"I am Lina. Utrana. Sagun. I am head of my own clan. I am wife to Ti Sagun, governor of Atlantic Maure. Who YOU have left stranded in the south. Do not ask me what I dare. I made this country. I followed my husband when he raised our banners. I took them from his hand and gave them to Stenu when he wouldn't go far enough. Dare? This is nothing. I eat bigger men than you for breakfast." They seemed spellbound by my low voice. "Do any one of you think you're going to throw me, bodily, from this camp? Disarm me publicly in front of all the men? Do you know what I do to men who try to humiliate me in public?" Let's see which of them had been there when peace was signed with the Lusotann.

The Lixus men exchanged nervous glances, while Pintamos smiled. "We could do just that," he said. "It'd have to be humiliating, of course. But not aggressive. Patronizing. The silly lady thinks she can go to war." His smile widened, as he felt the truth of his words. They could do exactly that. Damn them. But then, this is the second time Pintamos had shown an understanding of politics.

"Do you know you all are rather loud? The men outside, and there's a lot of them, can probably hear you. But they can't hear me. You protest and say no, and then run into a wall of silence. What magic words am I using? Why are their great and important officers, the men who run their lives, stymied by one woman? Every moment here gives me power."

It was a partially true statement. Most of them just looked confused, working out what I was getting at. I beckoned Pintamos forward, and he actually came. I put my hand behind his head and bent it so I could whisper into his ear. "It's true, you could throw me out. Patronizing is the perfect way to play it. And you'd never rise to a higher rank than what you have right now. But the men outside. They want to go. You know it's right. I'm giving you an opportunity. I can't lead them. I need one of you to do it. Someone who I can reward. I don't fight with my husband you know. Back me, and you'll command this army all the way to Sala, and who knows after that. Even if my husband forsakes you, the Utrana will always look after you." The other men were inching forward, suddenly worried they were being left out. Which of course, they were. But they didn't have the balls to change the situation. "I'm going to walk out of the tent now, Pintamos, and tell the men we march south. You can come out, and bundle me off to Lixus, or you can support me, and I'll set you above these four yahoos."

I walked out side, and all the gathered soldiers quieted down. Finally, I spoke loudly and clearly, with all the volume I could muster. "We march south. For Sala. For my Ti. For Mauretania. The men, smitten by a love story that sounded like one their mother might have told them when they were little, and more than that, bored of sitting in camp and worried for their countrymen in the south, cheered loudly.

And then Pintamos emerged from the command tent with a stern look on his face. "What are you men doing here!?" The man could shout. "Look alive!" He started calling out to particular men and giving them instructions "get the animals ready... get your men ready, you'll lead the column for today... get your horse and tell Abulos we leave today..." I mimicked his harsh demeanor as he pretended the men should have magically known to be about their duties already.

Pintamos didn't miss a beat, recognizing that I was solidifying my authority by lending it to him. By midday I was exhausted, and had to admit defeat and take off my chainmail and sword, letting two soldiers carry them. But I kept walking. If no one else was going to see these men got to where they needed to be, I would.

***

I quickly learned that marching was hard, draining work. And after that first half-day I didn't even think about wearing my mail or carrying my sword. No more than water, traveling clothes, and my ugly, dirty linen tunic. But I marched, every day, with one unit or another. And I demanded we go on longer while the men next to me wanted to stop. Or I did until Pintamos informed me that we couldn't force-march all the way to Sala and that it would take the men twice as long to set up camp in the dark, essentially wasting time the next morning.

But the men loved me for it, dirt and all. To my shock and amazement, not one crude comment was directed at me, not one hand took liberties. Which isn't to say I didn't overhear a few raunchy speculations from a distance, but the speaker was always shushed by a soldier who bought into my position as a figurehead.

Pintamos adroitly solidified his temporary command by giving orders to the other four captains, using my authority as person-beloved-by-the-men or Ti's wife when he needed it. By the time the march ended, which was actually only about two weeks, I ended each day in the tent two soldiers set up for me crying myself to sleep for the pain in my legs and feet. Along with the rest of the army, we were allowed only about four hours of sleep each of the last few nights as Pintamos pushed us.

Thankfully, we didn't have to march past burnt fields and slaughtered Maure. The reports had been correct, the Carthaginian army had moved with speed and taken no time to ravage the countryside. I counted us lucky when we finally came within sight of Sala and the small Carthaginian army camped outside her walls. I saw what looked like finished battering rams, but Pintamos assured me we could wait until morning to attack and not risk the city. I watched the hustle and bustle of camp being set, wishing I could sit in the dirt and massage my calves without sacrificing my dignity.

"Sagun will sally in the morning with his horse." Pintamos was standing on top of a donkey, shading his eyes to see some signal from the city. I thought he looked ridiculous, but it didn't seem to affect him.

"How many others will come with him?"

"Just his bodyguard and the local noble horse. Oh, I'm sure Sagun organized the citizenry to defend the walls. But they can't be expected to take the field."

I was struck by a sudden irrational fear for my husband. Surely he knew what he was doing. After all, he'd won the battle of Lixus. But I couldn't get the worry outside of my mind.

That evening, I made sure Pintamos explained the battle plan to me carefully, wanting to be sure I knew what was happening the next day.

"It's a fairly simple plan, both because I don't have cavalry under my command, and so Sagun can anticipate our actions and support as needed. The bulk of our infantry will form a central line opposing the Carthaginian force, who we outnumber. Stenu will command that section of the line. He is uncreative but reliable.

"A sizeable unit on the right flank will release javelins at the enemy but otherwise hold itself in reserve and protect us from being encircled. On our left flank, the enemy's right, I will lead a second force around the enemy line and unleash our javelins before charging. It's the natural weak spot, and the best place for Sagun to assault as well." I looked at Pintamos blankly. "Shields are strapped to the left hand," he explained. "The enemy's right flank is always more exposed for that reason."

"Oh." That seemed rather clever, actually.

"If the enemy's cavalry doesn't give chase, Sagun will most likely sweep across the enemy's rear from their left to their right, releasing javelins along the way and keeping his men's shields facing the enemy. When he reaches their beleaguered right, he'll charge and collapse that end of the Carthaginian line. The rest will flee in turn. In theory." Pintamos smiled. "In practice, I don't know where they'll put their heavy cavalry. But it shouldn't matter. We outnumber them heavily, but block their retreat. They have to fight."

I studied the markings he'd made. "I'll put myself here then, on the unit in the right flank." Whoa, that surprised him.

"You'll do no such thing. You'll remain in camp, well guarded."

"Phah." I scoffed at the notion. "I didn't march my legs half to death to stay in camp."

"You're a symbol to the men. If you were injured or killed, they could break and run, which is death to an army." Pintamos was trying to sound patient and helpful, to get me to acquiesce.

"If I stay in camp, I cease to be a symbol. Use me instead. The men around me might just rally and stand against anything to protect me." Pintamos shook his head. I knew what he was going to say. Too dangerous. But I liked being a symbol. I was beginning to stand for Mauretania itself to many of the men. For their hopes and dreams of the woman they wanted to marry, a warrior goddess and fantasy in the flesh. I liked that power. "If you've a better place to put me, fine. But I'm marching out tomorrow, whether you like it or not." Pintamos frowned, but nodded.

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***

The chainmail was still heavy, and I prayed that the man who showed me how to use the bright elephant-hide shield they'd given me didn't tell too many people how clumsy I was with it. It was strapped to my back while all the other men carried theirs. I didn't think I could carry it for longer than absolutely necessary. They all held javelins carefully balanced in the same hand. I couldn't tell how they did it. Somehow, being around so many sharp points was more nerve-wracking on the field of battle than on march without armor. Pintamos had found a helmet that more or less fit me, and overruled my protests about wearing it. My sword was strapped to my waist, a small water pouch and my new eating knife helping to balance the weight.

I stood near the back of a thousand intensely proud Maure on the right flank, in the reserve unit. I bumped into the men next to me a few times as the man giving our orders marched us around, but they didn't seem to mind. In fact, I think they were as happy as could be to have me there.

With all the dust and with many of the men in front of me taller than I was, I got only a few looks at the enemy force. There didn't seem to be many of them. Maybe they were disorganized or... I didn't know. We were ordered to run forward, I guess Pintamos wanted to hit them while they were disorganized.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania6/164-BattleOfSalaSaveIdiotSagun.jpg

I didn't get a good look at what was going on until the men were ordered to ready javelins. I made sure I held my shield tight with my left hand, before using my right to help as well so I could take the weight for awhile. I caught a second of clear vision as the men around me leaned forward and threw their javelins. I found myself ducking my head, pointlessly. But I saw two things. One, a shining line of horse and metal, galloping at full speed towards the center of our line. I saw javelins from the center too, and a few horses die, but the sheer beauty of the thunderous charge still took my breath away. Seconds after our javelins were thrown I could see them no more, but a great crash, and screams, and horse noise above all the rest smashed into the men to our left, who seemed almost as a mass to lurch back.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania6/165-NotEnoughBuddy.jpg

And the other thing I saw, near a copse of juniper ahead and to the right, were more Maure, certainly more elephant-hide shields. They must have come out from the city, there had been a horse or two, perhaps tangled up with Ti's men somehow.

But that wasn't right. I went over it three times in my head. I knew where all our men should be. And no one should be ahead and to the right of the men around me. No army units had stayed in Sala, they had all come up to Lixus to gather and be supplied from the foundries. Just Ti's bodyguard and the citizens on the walls. Pintamos had been sure.

I pushed my way to the front of the unit until the men began parting of their own accord and found the flag-man who gave signals to Pintamos and our own back ranks and the officer giving orders. I couldn't see what was happening in the trees because of the vegetation and all the dust being kicked up. Like if there was a battle, say. But there's no reason for us to attack Carthaginians there. Then I saw it, in a flash, as the officer ran up to me to get me back in the middle of the men. Ti was supposed to sweep across the back of the Carthaginian line, right? There was the dip the horses would take down onto the field of battle, right where the trees ended. The only cover available. A perfect ambush to salvage something from a doomed force.

I interrupted the man as he begged me to move into cover and pointed towards the copse of trees. "Ambush, there! They're going to try and kill my Ti!"

"Madame. Just move back into..." He was one of the officers from Lixus who I'd moved aside for Pintamos.

Forget that. The eyes of everyone in the front ranks were on me. I raised my right arm, hoping my exhausted left arm could take the weight of the shield for a little while longer. "Forward." That was too quiet. "For Sagun! For Mauretania!" I don't know how many heard me shout, but all eyes were on me as I jogged towards the trees under the weight of the chainmail and this damn shield. I'd always been a strong woman, but I wasn't used to his kind of strain. But the men ran forward once they saw me move, in the right direction, forgetting the flags and the officer and following me, who, after all, had brought them here. The men swept me along with them. By the time we neared the trees we could see Maure fighting Maure, what must have been a mercenary unit against the Ti's bodyguard.

The mercenaries had surrounded Ti's men and were struggling to bring them down. The back few ranks had watched us approach and turned to throw javelins at us. They came at us, incredibly fast, until...

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania6/166-TraitorMaure.jpg

I screamed and raised my shield with both hands as it felt like something almost broke my left shoulder. My shield was dragged down out of my hands, and I saw the javelin sticking out of it as it dropped to the ground. It seemed all eyes were on me as I started shaking. But since my shield was gone I figured I ought to draw my sword. I managed to grab it, jittery hands and all, and then the thousand men around me seemed to shout at once, pull their weapons, and charge forward.

I was carried along by their momentum and my fear of being trampled. But I did hold my wits about me long enough to let several ranks of men pass in front of me before the clash began in earnest. I held my sword with both hands, but the men around me seemed to have no intention of letting me into harm's way again, for which I was sincerely grateful.

I had no concept of how long it took us to break the mercenary unit. They died to a man, knowing they couldn't run from the speed of Ti's horses and probably suspecting the fury at their betrayal and ambush would not lead us to accepting surrender.

I found Ti after the battle was over, as he came to thank the men for turning the ambush. He jumped from his horse and ran to me, taking me in his arms. I cried and cried, because there was blood all over him, but my hands felt all over and couldn't find a wound. Finally he realized what I was doing. "It's not mine, love." As it turns out, he lied, he did have a cut on his leg, but it wasn't serious.

Eventually, he pulled away and looked at the men around us. "You saved me," he began in his parade-voice. But my unit erupted with joy, cheering and yelling, all the adrenaline of battle, the love of being alive, and the fervor they felt because they thought Ti was addressing me, and they'd brought me here, it all spilled out and I realized we were legends in the flesh now.

I shivered then, because I, too, was overwhelmed with all the determination and hate and fear and love and joy and pride and power and every emotion I'd felt that day.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania6/167-BattleOfSalaAftermath.jpg

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[Tanit]

Stunning!

[gamegeek2]

Wow.

I can't find the proper superlative.

Just, wow.

[Ghaust the Moor]

Speachless....



The only thing I have to say is that Mrs. Sagun is evil!!! EVIL I TELL YOU!!!!! I would defenently not want her anywhere near me ;) I be afraid she'd have someone assasinate me if I said something wrong.

[MisterFred]

Thanks y'all. Comments make a writer feel like he's not wasting his time.

Especially Ghaust. I'm particularly interested to hear what people think of Lina Utrana Sagun.

[Tanit]

I really appreciate the inclusion of women into politics because it happened a lot in ancient history. I was planning on doing something similar myself way back but my regular EB work prevented me from ever writing it. As such its great to see this here. You also seem to have a great sense for story flow, this coming from a writer, as well as a great sense of where a story might go and preparing your characters and audience for all potential ends. I've only read about a dozen AARs but I think this might be the best I've read yet.

[gamegeek2]

I like her as a character - much more interesting than the rest of them by far.

[Ghaust the Moor]

For my actual educated answer. I personally find her to be one of my favorite characters. She is the most fleshed out character by far in this AAR alongside that Garamantine general. Those two are the main ones that display any sort of motifs and themes recurrent in thier actions. With this, I look foward to the next chapter, I've become addicted ;)

[Tanit]

For my actual educated answer. I personally find her to be one of my favorite characters. She is the most fleshed out character by far in this AAR alongside that Garamantine general. Those two are the main ones that display any sort of motifs and themes recurrent in thier actions. With this, I look foward to the next chapter, I've become addicted ;)

Ditto.

[MisterFred]

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania2/Title3.jpg
by Tarkun of Siga

[Ch. 15]

The Army of Mauretania suffered a hard winter. Not because of the cold, far from that. While troublesome at night, at mid-day the cool was a relief to the men marching mile after mile, day after day. I faced a morale problem among my veteran troops. They had lost their leader, Stenu, at the same time they suffered a major and unexpected defeat. They marched along uncertain companions they trusted little, a situation not helped by the constant effort needed to guard the baggage train from the mercenaries attached to the army. Not a few incidents had ended in bloodshed, presumably as mercenaries made a try for a healthy amount of coin before intending to desert. There was a shortage of leather and sandals as well, most of our herds being lost west of Atiqa or eaten since then, some men having to do with the thinnest of foot protection. But by far the worst problem was rumor and worry about home. These men had undergone heroic efforts, and done more than anyone expected of them at the outset of their journey, but it seemed the Carthaginians had done more. At Atiqa the men had heard that Carthaginians raided Atlantic Maure, that Siga had fallen, that both had happened, and some even believed that all the Maure in the world but them had been killed. I knew, of course, from Lixus that a Carthaginian feint had led to the fall of Siga, but being from the region myself, I feared the effects of officially admitting that fact.

Marching behind the coastal range, we were completely cut off from Mauretania. Which was true when we marched east out of Numidia as well, of course, but things never seem as bad when on the offensive as when an army is in retreat. The mercenary captains had been warned of the long march ahead of us, of course, and expected such things before they would get too upset about the lack of plunder. Although many of them complained about the difficult pace set by the Army of Mauretania along our march, the matter-of-fact performance of the veterans day after day kept them in line. The mercenaries, in fact, helped assuage my worries on more than a few scores. Worry from the rank-and-file of the Maure was in no small part due to a depressing lack of confidence in my leadership. Stenu would never have let the herds be so reduced, they said, forgetting I had been chief among the officers leading rustling raids and foraging parties along our march. If even Stenu had failed to protect the homelands, what chance did mere Tarkun have? And of course I took the blame for defeat as well. The battle must have been going fine until Stenu died, until I somehow botched it by failing to protect him, or failing to carry out his plan, or being to afraid to throw myself into battle as Stenu did. I had my doubts about Stenu's battle plan, now, but I had no idea how to counter the worry and grumbling in the army. But the mercenaries ignored all that. Their pay agreements had been negotiated with me. Anyone else was a question mark in terms of their contract, which reduced my worry that the army as a whole would follow my leadership. The veterans suspected my ability, and most of them being from Atlantic Maure, felt they owed me little loyalty, but they had no wish to see Mauretania's hard-earned plunder stolen by mercenaries of uncertain character. The mercenaries cared more about money that the Army of Mauretania or its country, but they owed me personal loyalty as the leader of the army.

It was a bad winter, yes, but I held faith that the army would stay together. Until we left the shadow of the coastal range and descended into northern Numidia. Should I continue to plunder that land, so it might not be able to raise another army? I questioned the army's ability to do so thoroughly, and it was doubtful the mercenaries would consider the plunder of Numidia sufficient. I could strike directly west for Siga, but how many stadia could an army march before dropping of exhaustion? I might find out one day. The mercenaries would no doubt be happy if I marched south and east again, heading back to the eastern coast and the smaller cities around Adrumento, or perhaps Lepki. That would provide more loot and plunder, but I would effectively be abandoning Mauretania and embarking on a mercenary career. Fanciful visions of my last years as a lord and land-holder in Ptolemaic Ethiopia seemed both laughable and strangely plausible.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/mauretania5/123-RevengePlansForNumidia.jpg
[The Army of Mauretania's position in spring, 234]

In the end, I loved my own land and the hollow life as a mercenary captain looked repugnant next to service to my people. With that certainty in my mind, the Numidians themselves made my decision for me. They hadn't wintered in Atiqa, supported by the Carthaginian treasury, as I had assumed. Instead, they had paralleled our hard march along the interior route on the easier coastal road. As we came down out of the foothills, they caught us on the march. I tried to retreat back into the mountains, but the Numidians followed and hemmed in our foragers. Possessing significant food stores themselves, and in friendly country, the Numidians had no need of foragers and could concentrate on blocking our movement. The Army of Mauretania would be forced to battle the Numidians once more, this time in the north of their country. Victory would not only mean the ability to continue north or west, but we might just be able to capture part of the Numidian's baggage train in the event of an enemy rout.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/mauretania5/127-NumidiansDefendKirtan.jpg

If we could beat the Numidians this time. Again we outnumbered them, this time by a slightly larger ratio. But before they had beaten us with little more than the motivation for revenge for our outrages in their country. Now their commanders could tell them their homes themselves depended on a victory. Again, they had large numbers of elephants to support their main army, and a Carthage had sent an advisor with heavy cavalry and probably considerable pay for the Numidians in return for their march towards Atiqa and continued service. But while the Numidians would be determined, our army knew that loss meant almost certain death. The Maure veterans would have no place to turn, and the Carthaginians had never been known to be kind to mercenaries impudent enough to work against them in Africa. There was no reason to think their impoverished Numidian allies would show mercy and take defeated mercenaries into their service rather than put them to sword. The two armies met high in the drought-parched hills, with the actual clash taking place on a small, relatively-level plain. Neither army held to a hill, as both sides desired a decisive engagement. The Army of Mauretania was running low on supplies, while the Numidians wished to return to their homes and plant crops or rebuild herds.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/mauretania5/126-ShrunkenArmyOfMauretaniaCards.jpg
[The Army of Mauretania]

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/mauretania5/125-LOLFML.jpg
[The Army of Numidia. Yes, that's the AI-created name of the enemy general. I swear my computer is taunting me. "Lolzors I pwnzored you with r3b3ls. Now my miracle-resurrecting elephants will stomp on you again to publicly humiliate you in your AAR."]

Both sides adjusted their formations. The Numidians, relying perhaps too heavily on their elephants, positioned all of them in the front of their army. For my part, the bulk of my infantry was in a simple solid line, sacrificing flexibility and putting my formation at greater potential risk for disruption by elephants, but increasing the concentration of missiles that could be thrown on the beasts and strengthening the line for what I now viewed as the inevitable clash between our infantry. The Ligurians, with the fewest javelins, were positioned on the far right, farthest from the elephants.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/mauretania5/128-BattleOfNumidiaOpens.jpg

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/mauretania5/129-ArmyOfNumidia.jpg

The Numidians opened with a full charge of their elephants. Orders went out to all of my units focus all efforts on the elephants, and hold their ground, regardless of enemy action. The elephants did manage to break into my left, but at horrendous cost, and with their infantry too far to follow up on the beasts' shattering blow, my infantry had time to regroup and reform. The Balearics did not fare as well. They too were disrupted by the elephant charge, but Amikas came close behind the Numidian beasts and charged the disorganized formation with his heavy cavalry. The Ligurians moved forward to engage the slowed enemy horse, but the Balearics were shattered.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/mauretania5/130-BattleOfNumidiaClosedLines.jpg

My own men largely out of javelins and the elephants largely neutralized, a charge by the entire army was ordered. Many of the Numidians still had arrows or javelins that went unused as they were forced into melee, a result I was most pleased with. Their resistance was stiff however, as even the least armed among them fought with the unwavering determination they had shown outside of Atiqa.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/mauretania5/131-PushEmBackWaaaaaayBack.jpg

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/mauretania5/132-NotTheHatsNOTTHEHATS.jpg

But ultimately, our army had no where to run, our lines held firm despite horrific casualties, and with the Ligurians tying down the enemy cavalry, my personal guard was able to break multiple units with unopposed charges into their rear. The Army of Mauretania won the battle of Numidia. Enough provisions were captured that rations were increased, although not to the extent desired by the men. Still, the army that had been worn down to the point that I felt we had to make for the closest fortifiable city to rest and consider our position. After only two days to reorganize the baggage train, collect the wounded, and award decorations, I ordered the army to march north to Ippone.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/mauretania5/133-ThankGoodnessWinBatNumidia.jpg

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/mauretania5/134-MoreBattleHonors.jpg

As we left Numidia for the coastal plain, I sent the Ligurian captain and trusted members of my own bodyguard east on a secret mission to hire more mercenaries to ensure the ragged Army of Mauretania had the strength to capture even lightly-defended Ippone. The cost cut into the considerable plunder we carried with us, but the army had been reduced to a bare eleven thousand men. I ordered the army to approach Ippone slowly, giving the defenders plenty of time to pull supplies into the city. In no hurry, I besieged the city during the summer months, not being particularly careful to cut off supplies and messages issuing to and from the walls, although reinforcements were carefully ambushed. As the heat of summer retreated, I was almost ready to give up on new mercenary divisions and assault the city with my eleven thousand when the Ligurian captain returned with more of his countrymen and some Greek mercenaries, appearing stouter than the poor and un-armored Greek levies Carthage had employed to little end in Iberia and outside of Adrumento. My emissaries had convinced them to serve with the promise of immediate pay and the opportunity to join in the sack of Ippone, a sack I was not at all sure I planned to carry out. The issue was easily side-stepped, as the men were anxious for their initial pay, and the focus was turned to the capture of the city.

With the reinforcements, this proved to be a certain proposition. When the townspeople saw our numbers, the only significant opposition was an elite phalanx that had been intended to lead the populace in resistance rather that protect it alone. The pikemen were surrounded by the Greek mercenaries. But the foreign mercenaries, armed for defense, failed utterly at breaking the rear of the formation. Eventually I had to send in the more capable Maure mercenary force.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/mauretania5/157-ArmySplitUseless.jpg

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/mauretania5/170-IpphikratikoiStillBlowChunks.jpg

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/mauretania5/172-MaureAreBest.jpg

The mercenaries were held in uneasy check for a few days as I assessed the city, still reeling from the first time it was plundered by the Army of Mauretania. I spent half my time with the captains threatening them and ensuring they kept control their troops as I tried to survey the city. The Phoenician population had stabilized, and waited warily to see what we would do. Siga argued that the Maure could administer a Phoenician city, and our swords and spears argued that resistance was unwise, but the memory of the previous mass enslavement, and the obvious desire of the mercenaries, was ever-present. Worse, a large number of Numidians displaced by the Army of Mauretania's first march through that country had moved north and settled in the city with the encouragement of the Carthaginians, who had sought to repopulate it. The only good news was that food supplies were strong. But I needed more than a granary and walls. I needed a base for months of rest for the army.

Finally, the pressure of the mercenaries built to a head, and the Ligurian captain hinted he might not be able to hold the rest back much longer. There was no need for a sack. Mauretania would gain nothing, and the population had so far refrained from riots, or even minor harassment, instead adopting a sullen subservience as the army waited. The surviving Phoenician notables feared for their lives, but that fear led them to co-operate with the hated enemy to preserve their families. But my first worry had to be the preservation of the Army of Numidia. I warned select Phoenicians in advance, and spread my loyal Maure veterans across strategic locations in Ippone to maintain some semblance of control, and unleashed the mercenaries. But orders were given to limit their assault to the Numidian population only. Phoenicians and their property were to be strictly preserved. Disorganized and chaotic, the violence went on for three days of atrocity and outrage before the screams and the blood stopped. I personally rode through the streets with my bodyguard during most of it, helping enforce the protection of the Phoenicians with the promise of death if violators were caught. But my eyes were full of the atrocities committed against the rest of the civilian population, and the taste of bile never left my throat. Previous sacks had seemed necessary to the physical survival of the Army of Mauretania, needed to weaken the Carthaginian juggernaut. This was destruction for destruction's sake. And the order came directly from me, I could not blindly rely on the judgment of Stenu, revered founder of Mauretania. This one was mine, and when the rumors spread through the Numidian captives that my bodyguard had ridden through the streets to force the mercenaries to continue, it seemed as reasonable as the truth, even to me.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/mauretania5/173-RapeAndPillageMaureAreEvil.jpg

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/mauretania5/175-ItsCalledAConscience.jpg

My treasury saw little of the sale of slaves or what captured wealth could be found, but the Phoenicians were, mostly, unhurt and the mercenaries were, barely, satisfied. When the gates were finally opened, the army could spare enough men from security to help the populace bring a late harvest in. I dug the army in and reviewed the depressing news from points west. Much of the remaining plunder of Adrumento and Atiqa was secretly sent west by ship, with virtually no escort, to Atlantic Maure. Sadly, the loss of the coin at sea seemed less likely than its theft by my own mercenaries if I kept it in Ippone.

Throughout the fall and into winter I found myself playing politics. The ordinary townspeople wanted me to leave, but I kept control of the city with the mercenaries. The notable Phoenicians came to know only too well it was only my orders and discipline that kept a Greek or Ligurian from taking their property and their family members. With their co-operation and my veterans, I kept tenuous control of the mercenaries, who wanted me to march in any direction as long as it led to plunder (and I fully realized that when the mercenaries were satisfied, the dissolution of the army would follow). My Maure veterans wanted me to march on Siga, but they knew that without the mercenaries we didn't have the strength to assault a walled town. It seemed I was the only person who wanted the army to sit put. But in every other direction I saw disaster for the army or the recreation of a unified Carthaginian empire in Africa. Would they rebuild Atiqa if I was only a few months to the west? Could Numidia raise more troops, and would the Numidians dare take the offensive west when at any moment I could march south? I had Ippone's walls repaired and stockpiled javelins, food, and Phoenician goodwill. I sent messages to Lixus, by boat and the dangerous land route, hoping one would get through. If I was left alone long enough, I would turn Ippone into a base Carthage could not ignore. Stenu built the Army of Mauretania into the great hope of a people, but he was dead. Under my command, the remnants aimed for little more than being the dam that held back the Carthaginians long enough for the rest of Mauretania to stir itself once more.

So I sat in Ippone, and tossed and turned at night, hated by most, a disappointment to the rest, and I held the army together.

[Ghaust the Moor]

Great update. I hope to see more of Tarkun. Just a quick request: May we see a picture of the map so we can see the worldy situation? That little clip of Bactria on the side of one of your screenies got me curious ;)

[MisterFred]

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania6/177-AnotherWorldMapUpdate.jpg

I was going to wait for the next Atlantic Maure update for a world map, but I already had this screenshot cropped, so here ya go.

Notable notables:
Baktria is involved in a war with the Saka (no heavy battles as of yet).
Hayasdan variably forces the Sauromatae into a vassal relationship, then declares war on them again anyway.
That's not just a Saba rebellion in Bostra, they very briefly held Jerusalem (can't remember EB spelling) and they've sent up a legitimate stack from the south too (not that that'll matter).
Makedon is making a comeback from nothing more than Lesbos.
Probably the most hard-fought war on the map is between Epirus and Koinon Hellenon, who battle with large stacks virtually every turn over Boeotia.
Bythinia and Byzantium have been variously Pontic and Makedon.
Carthage really did besiege Syracuse once (and failed miserably).
Rome is at war with the Aedui, no one else.
The map probably looks fairly normal to most people, but runaway Ptolemies have previously been rare in my campaigns, and Epirus rarely lasts this long.

[Tanit]

I like the increased development of Tarkun. Great update!

[MisterFred]

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania2/Title4.jpg
by Captain Gisgo

[Ch. 16]

On the day of battle, we began full of confidence. Bomilcar had led us capably through the desert, splitting our forces for most of the journey to ease the strain on water resources. Local guides and a few lucky thunderstorms ensured surprisingly few men were lost to the elements. Outside the fortress of Tuat, our water supplies ran low, but four great rams were completed before our army reached the point of mortal danger.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania6/179-TuatAnnouncement.jpg

Victory in our assault upon the walls would be essential, of course, the reliable spring within had to be captured. But it hardly seemed that we could fail. The entire Army of Mauretania itself had retreated rather than face Bomilcar in the field. And if a few divisions had been left to garrison Ippone and stiffen the resistance of the Numidians, our great army stretched as long as the eastern wall of Tuat. As if waiting for a sign from the gods, Bomilcar made us wait a few days more, but then a day finally came with a few high clouds providing a hint of occasional shade, and the battle began.

Bomilcar had largely forsaken traditional professional infantry in favor of a combination of light skirmishing troops and elite formations. He believed strongly that a superior missile force could push the Maure into attacking better-armed melee troops which would ultimately be their downfall. As a result, most of our force was composed of poor Numidian tribesmen, Sardinian mercenaries and levies, and levies from the Greek population of Cyrenaeica. Some lightly-armed Garamantines and Balearic infantry provided a versatile force capable of skirmishing or fighting hand-to-hand, but the best of our men were Bomilcar's own heavy Sacred Band cavalry guards, a unit of mixed-breed veteran elites, and the phalanx I led.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania6/181-TuatAttackers.jpg
https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania6/182-TuatAttackers2.jpg

It seemed impossible that we could lose to the Maure defenders, most of whom weren't Maure at all. A bare three thousand of the western tribesmen remained in charge of the fortress, although the scouts said a powerful force of two thousand of their better cavalry had been pulled in from solidifying their control of the caravan routes. But the garrison commander, one Elaz of Mala, had purchased with coin and promises the services of large numbers of mercenaries, allied tribesman and Gaetulians, fighting with spear and javelin, and gathered them all together into the fortress, no doubt looking for every man who could carry a weapon and be persuaded to try and stem our advance. Still, the fortress, which was not in itself very formidable, held only twenty thousand lightly-armed men, of which the Maure were the best. Bomilcar had brought forty thousand men, his entire command, and some of us were the best troops in Africa.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania6/180-TuatDefenders.jpg

The walls did provide the defenders with excellent cover from our missile troops as the assault began. Very few of the enemy died to javelins or Sardinian arrows before the engines reached the walls, while the advantage of height allowed their own javelins to kill many of the men accompanying the siege engines.

But these were generally light troops, and though thousands of javelins had been thrown, we assumed the missiles of the enemy, which we feared more than any other of their weapons at the start of the battle, had done insignificant damage.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania6/183-AssaultBegins.jpg

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania6/184-TuatDefenseandWallBreach.jpg

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania6/185-ChaosinBackfield.jpg

The Maure horse sallied out of the east gate as we approached, throwing their javelins in amongst the Greek levies and killing a good number of them, but they fled the approach of more light-armed troops. I have to admit, I assumed he was doing the smart thing and escaping into the desert. If he had learned the region well, he had a good chance of reaching Mauretania, for we had not attempted to seize permanent control of the water supplies on our march south.

The southernmost ram was the first to break the defensive wall, where most of our allied Numidians and a few Sardinians were stationed, and they rushed into the breach. Mixed-blood cavalry pressed forward too, instructed to break into undefended sections of the trading post to confuse and demoralize the defenders. But the attackers soon learned that only the spearmen most willing to fight in melee had loosed their javelins, and as our troops followed orders and assaulted them most vigorously, Gaetulians unleashed their own javelins from close range, which proved deadly to both horse and man.

Still, the great weight of our numbers pressed the defenders sorely, and even when the Gaetulians charged forward after expending their javelins, they failed to press hard enough to link up with the other defenders at the southern breach.

Similar scenes were playing out in the central breach, where Bomilcar had stationed the Garamantines and the heavily-armored veteran mixed-bloods. The elites were the first into the breach, followed by the Garamantines. But the unarmored allies were virtually destroyed by the javelin volleys that greeted them. The mixed-bloods, however, were protected by armor, helmet, and the vulnerable bodies of their allies.

When the gate itself fell, it became obvious that there were too few defenders to repeat the same tactics all along the wall. The Maure threw their own javelins in support of their spearmen at the gate, but the Baelearic contingent there entered the trading post with haste, and I ordered Greek Akontistai to cover their backs in loose formation, and soon the Maure had to deal with Greeks and Sardinians who had finally recovered from the enemy's sally and crushed their section of the wall.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania6/186-TuatFarSouthBreach.jpg
[Javelins gather kills at the first and southernmost breach in the wall.]

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania6/187-EliteBreach.jpg
[The only thing more vulnerable to a javelin than a Garamantine formation is a Garamantine formation with its backs to you.]

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania6/191-PikemanBreach.jpg
[Note the spear-armed skirmishers charging after they run out of javelins.]

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania6/194-SlaughterofSkirmishers.jpg
[Light troops occupy the Maure infantry.]

After all of our infantry save my own pikeman were engaged within the walls, the enemy commander surprised me, and presumably Bomilcar, by returning to the battle with a vengeance. Their sturdy horses, so used to the desert sands, charged to the command area before the Sacred Band could build up sufficient momentum to respond in kind. Several of the Sacred Band were killed outright in the initial charge, but the heavily armored bodyguards are not chosen for their cowardice, and the cavalry exchange bogged down into a messy melee.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania6/188-FirstCharge.jpg

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania6/189-FirstCharge2.jpg
[My Libyan General had been running around for a bit, but like most of my favorite bodyguard units, they have excellent stamina.]

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania6/190-IsolatedBomilcar.jpg
[Bomilcar himself is isolated from his bodyguards in the melee, which is appropriate since I was trying to kill him in particular.]

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania6/192-BomilcarDefends.jpg
[But he proved to be a doughty fighter, as did his bodyguards.]

With all of the high-ranking officers back in the command area, where it was supposed to be safe, under assault by the Maure horse, control of the battle, such as it was, devolved onto me for no other reason than I was the only Carthaginian officer the messengers could reach without venturing into a calvary battle. The defenders were fighting hard, no doubt of it. Certainly we would have accepted the surrender of the Gaetulians, after all, taxation of their people and trade with them and the peoples they border is the only reason to control Tuat other than transit through the desert. But somehow the Maure must have convinced them otherwise, for their defenders fought for every inch of ground.

But the despite the weight of our assault, despite the valor of our attackers, the defenders gave ground but they wouldn't break. By the south breach in particular, the runner constantly reported a near-breakthrough, without ever actually delivering good news. At the center breach, the situation was worse. Our Garamantines had been slaughtered and the elite mixed-bloods stood back-to-back, straining to hold their ground and pin the units surrounding them to prevent them reinforcing other areas of attack.

I led my own unit carefully into the city, instructing them to discard their pikes and use swords only, guarding the back of the formation by refusing to leave the walls of the city. I intended to form an implacable force the defenders couldn't move, and I was also slowed by sending out orders to continue pressing the attack along all fronts.

This proved disastrous at the northern breach, where wave after wave of lightly-armed Greeks and Sardinians fell before the experienced blades of the Maure until, shockingly, most of them were simply dead. The Maure released their remaining javelins at my own men, but killed few and generally accomplished little more than denting armor. Still, I feared the attack of these tribesman, mindful of the rumors they'd broken similar formations before.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania6/193-TuatSouthBreachHOLDS.jpg
[The press at the southern breach.]

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania6/195-ElitesSurrounded.jpg

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania6/196-ElitesSurrounded2.jpg

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania6/198-ElitesSurrounded3.jpg
[Back-to-back.]

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania6/199-NorthBreachHeld.jpg
[The Maure slaughter the light troops at the northern breach and press in on the african pikemen and supporting troops.]

I was preparing to brief Bomilcar, whose men had appeared to drive off the Maure horse, when they wheeled unexpectedly and returned to charge in a second time. I was shocked at their tenacity in the face of heavy casualties, and also surprised that Bomilcar's men fell for the same trick twice in a row. I hope I would have been more aware, but Bomilcar may have been so focused on recovering control of army that he couldn't spare the attention for the 'retreating' enemy.

It seemed the second charge, too, would fail, as once again the armored bodyguard seemed to get the better of the melee, until the defenders seemed to slip below some necessary accumulation of mass, and the Sacred Band's formation broke. I redoubled my efforts to maintain contact with the other units of the army. But the southern breach was far away, the elite mixed-bloods were surrounded, and the light troops around the northern breach had fled. In effect I controlled little more than the eastern gate to Tuat and had to pray the walls kept the sight of Bomilcar's flight from breaking the morale of the men.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania6/197-TuatCharge2.jpg
[The second charge.]

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania6/202-TuatBomilcar2.jpg
[Bomilcar's bodyguard collapses.]

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania6/204-BomilcarFleesAlive.jpg

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania6/206-BomilcarTrapped.jpg
[The escaping general is caught and killed]

The gods did not answer my prayers. The light troops under my direct command had finally managed to break the enemy men engaged with the elite half-bloods, but they fled in turn the advancing Maure engaged with my right, and just like that half my command fled into the desert.

The southern breach too, so long promising a breakthrough, crumbled in the face of sheer tenacity and determination on the part of the defenders, surrendering or fleeing despite outnumbered the defenders.

With Bomilcar gone and the army in a full rout, I had only my own unit and the Liby-Phoenicians around me, with the Maure pressing hard on my right, and an unknown number of enemies soon to arrive from other parts of the battlefield.

But we held strong to the walls. More than a few of my men wanted to run and head into the desert, but I judged that a slow death. We would hold our position along the wall, trust to our arms and armor. And die, or not, at the whim of the gods.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania6/201-TuatSardinians.jpg
[The attack on the southernmost breach, as it appeared the defenders would finally break.]

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania6/200-FleeingSkirmishers.jpg
[Greek troops fleeing from the slaughter at the northern breach.]

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania6/203-TuatSouthisTurned.jpg
[Carthaginian units fleeing from the southern bearch. Note the thin line of men with no back ranks who held them.]

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania6/207-TuatCarthCenterBreaks.jpg
[The light troops in the center ignore Captain Gisgo and flee through his own elite africans.]

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania6/208-TuatCenterBreaks2.jpg
[But even as the rest of the army flees, the Liby-Phoenician Elite move to halt the Maure infantry.]

I kept my men in rigid formation and the vaunted Maure infantry began to founder, if only because their sword arms were so tired. My own men stood toe-to-toe with them, matching their greater skill with fresher bodies. Enemy reinforcements, presumably from the collapse fronts at the southern breach, tried to press into the gate, but my men there threw them back with ease.The mixed-bloods pushed forward, so determined to finish the job that they pressed the fearsome Maure back.

Until the horse returned. Not many still lived. Some dozens, perhaps. But they trotted in through the central breach and formed up along the wall for a textbook charge. And charge they did, with lowered lances, into the backs of the surviving mixed-bloods. But their horses were exhausted, trembling and breathing hard. And the veteran mixed-bloods had fought back-to-back for hours. They feared little now.

Three times the enemy horse charged, the villains who had executed our leader. Each time the lances lowered, but their mounts were slower. On the last charge, I personally saw three horses drop of exhaustion. Finally, I ordered my men to surge forward, and we surrounded the dismounting cavalry men, and finished them.

Not long after, perhaps a dozen Maure slipped farther into the city, and for a brief moment we were no longer under attack. I had no idea if more enemies, having vanquished the rest of our army, would return. But I didn't intend to wait for them. Ordering the last two units of Bomilcar's vast host into marching formation, I ordered us to head for the spring at the center of the city, where we could pour water over our bodies, save ourselves from heat-death, and rest until any surviving Maure showed themselves or abandoned the city.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania6/209-ElitevsElite.jpg
[The Liby-Phoenicians pressing the last Maure infantry.]

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania6/210-TuatChargePrepared.jpg
[The Maure horse form up to charge the engaged Liby-Phoenicians.]

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania6/211-TuatCharge2.jpg
[They hit the enemy in the back.]

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania6/212-TuatCharge3.jpg
[And again.]

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania6/TuatCharge4.jpg
[And again. But it isn't enough.]

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania6/214-TuatCarnageGates.jpg
[The east wall of the fortress of Tuat.]

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania6/215-PikemenMarch.jpg

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania6/217-BetterEliteMarch.jpg
[The last two Carthaginian units march through the streets of the trading post.]

Over the next few days, I reorganized the shattered remnants of Bomilcar's army. Many of the lighter troops survived for a day or two in the desert before returning out of desperation or hearing we held the trading post. Some few recovered from their wounds. An embarrassing number appeared from the warehouses and alleyways where they'd fled after throwing their weapons down and surrendering.

But our leader would not return. Bomilcar and his entire entourage were found dead, their blood vanishing into the desert sands. I set about repairing at least the facade of the fort's defense, and sent reports north to Numidia and east to Garama:

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania6/218-TuatCloseOMGHEALS.jpg


https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania6/219-TuatHeroicEfforts.jpg
[Details of the heroic defenders. Guess which spearmen fought the Liby-Phoenicians head-on?]

[I]"...and as a result, I now command the Carthaginian forces at Tuat. I was not privy to Bomilcar's private councils, and do not know his long-term plans. Fleeing Gaetulians or Maure destroyed his command tent, and so I ask you, my lord, what should I do?"

***

[Excerpt of a letter from Aegicoros of Cyrene, Commander of Carthaginian forces in Greater Africa (Numidia)]

...and thus you must realize that all fault for the bloody battle lies with the dead Bomilcar, and praise for the capture of Tuat falls to you, and the men you led. The Maure must now fortify their southern flank, and set watchers to the mountains there at great cost. And we no longer need fear armies suddenly appearing out of the desert.

But this will be a long war, one in which they will be ground down in time. The key to our success is, ultimately, the defense of our core African possessions. For the sea will ever provide money and even mercenaries, but it is Africans loyal to our cause that allow us empire.

Your orders are simple. Set whatever guard you feel is appropriate to the town, and march north to join me on campaign. I need reliable officers by me, and you are too valuable to waste in the desert. Together, we can accomplish much.

Send your reply with probably marching dates,
Commander Aegicoros.

[Excerpt of a letter from Akbar, Carthaginian governor of Garama]

...although the outcome was unfortunate, you must rally your men and impress upon them your authority as Carthage's new commander of your army.

In light of these events, I will send a team of administrators from Garama to take control of Tuat. You need not anticipate their arrival, but instead leave sufficient light troops to hold the fort against light Gaetulian opposition.

You yourself must continue Bomilcar's vital mission, a strike at the heart of Mauretania, their Atlantic province. They will expect assault from the sea, but an army approaching from the south will take the rural peoples and small cities by surprise. I expect an officer of your caliber could take Sala with ease and find himself suddenly among the upper echelon of our great city after capturing whatever wealth you find there.

Continue in defense of our great city and I will continue to support you,
Akbar, governor in Garama.

[Excerpt of a letter from Chryses, member of the 42, head of the central irrigation district of Garama, Guardian of the Royal Tombs.]

My dear Gisgo,

You did not write to me, but I took the liberty of examining the letter you wrote to "the high Carthaginian authority or military commander for the settled southerners" before my men passed it on to good Akbar.

No doubt you have heard from him or will be hearing from him soon. Understand that I am not in rebellion against Carthage. I am a loyal ally of your fair city, and a respected man here in Garama. As you may or may not know, we recently drove out a Maure-backed pretender to our throne. Currently a council of important men, similar to your own city's government, rules Garama in alliance with Carthage. I am one of those men.

Your plight speaks to me, for I understand the harshness and loneliness of the desert. Certainly you wish to leave as soon as possible, to continue to fight for your great city. But I must advise you otherwise. I have good reason to do so, but my interests coincide with your own.

Perhaps other commanders will seek to usurp your troops. Akbar will likely find whatever excuse he deems most convincing to make sure your leadership core leaves Tuat. This is for the simple reason that he will wish to extract wealth from the desert regions as he has failed to do so here. We in Garama pay our tribute but do not allow ourselves to be pillaged.

As you no doubt know more than I, money talks. And no where does it talk more than Carthage. If Bomilcar's army was so savaged, take command and stay where you are. Find away to win over the Gaetulians. Take control of the area, and use the region's meager trade to make yourself a minor noble when you return to your city by virtue of gold. This is the best outcome for your family, and your future progeny. And it is the best outcome for me, as I can advise you on trade and make money with you without suffering the indignities and demands of Akbar, who would restrict me only to the canals and fields of Garama...

[MisterFred]

We've caught up to where I am in the campaign, so I don't have any prep work (edited screenshots or partially written chapters) left. This means future updates may be slower, and will probaby be (even less) regular. However... happy bonus!:

I've always liked those text-book maps that show the approximate route of general's campaigns during a war. They remind me of the greater regions involved than just the battlefields and that armies meet with a recent history, well-supplied or possibly desperate, not simply warped-in Shogun Total War style. So I made a couple that bring us to about where the campaign and story is now. Before you click on the little buttons that reveal them, I should mention that there are a few problems with the maps I made. First, you'll quickly see my picture editing skills are not what one calls top-notch. Apologies, but the origin of these pictures are just me playing around with paint and seeing what they'd look like, so that's pretty much what we're getting.

Second, they're historically inaccurate. Now I'll remind readers again that I have no expert knowledge of Maure, Iberian, Carthaginian, or any other ancient culture. That caveat continues for everything associated with the AAR. I mis-placed a few cities on both maps, although it works out fine in terms of where they are in relation to each other. Also, picking a satellite photo to use presented some problems. Some experts (geologists, archaeologists, historians, etc.) think the Sahara region was a bit wetter two thousand years ago, and that the desert proper didn't extend as far north, and thus present-day satellite photos will not only have minor inaccuracies on the coasts, but some regional inaccuracies in terms of climate. Some experts disagree, arguing that the climate in the region is little changed in essential characteristics from the ancient era, although humans may have wrought some changes like deforestation, draining the aquifer the Garamantes relied on, etc. In any case, I wanted something a little, well, greener, than most satellite photos of the North Africa, in part to emphasize the fact that much of the area was a famously rich agricultural region in the ancient world, and is still fertile today. Sure, photos of brown land are often rich farmlands, but they don't look it next to the Sahara. So I eventually settled on a satellite photo of flooding in the North Africa region after unusually heavy rains, which looked better to me than anything else I could easily find on the NASA website. So if it looks a little different, that's why.

The other image I simply got from a Google search and included because it didn't have modern cities.

The Northern Campaigns [The invasion of the east by the Army of Mauretania under Stenu and Tarkun of Siga, and Carthaginian reactions]:

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania6/NorthernCampaigns.jpg

The Southern Campaigns [And also events in the west after the Army of Mauretania marched east under Stenu]:

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania6/SouthernCampaigns-1.jpg

[SlickNicaG69]

Why do your Family Members look like European generals as opposed to African generals??...

[Brave Brave Sir Robin]

He is playing as Lusotann.

[Ghaust the Moor]

I like the maps Misterfred. I prefer the second on however as it ties in well with the them of the AAR. Don't worry we won't hurt you too bad if you don't update ;)

[gamegeek2]

Need to catch up...

[MisterFred]

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania/Title2.jpg
by Ti Sagun

[Ch. 17]

The march north from Sala was an uncomfortable affair. Not physically, of course. The Second Army was in no hurry, and I was more than used to traveling by horseback. I was not used to being on march with my wife. Not only did she insist on accompanying the army back north, she also refused a carriage or even a horse. She marched, on foot, with the rank and file of all people. I would call it intolerable, but as I utterly failed to change Lina’s course, I found that I could in fact be forced to tolerate the situation.

The well-born officers watched me when they thought I wasn’t looking, trying to decide if I was less of a man to let such a thing continue, a puppet to my wife, or if we were in fact above all social convention. The soldiers themselves had decided. Lina was a legend in the flesh to them, and her continued presence in their ranks, spending a day with each unit in turn, had the entire army in a state of adulation. She was above law or custom, a primal force to whom the rules simply didn’t apply. Every day I went without making the slightest public effort to get her to resume more ladylike behavior confirmed the notion. And every day I swallowed my manly pride and rode as I normally would, seemingly oblivious to her presence on foot. And every evening I swallowed my tongue as Lina belted on her sword in camp and took dinner with the common soldiers and suffered the stares of my peers in silence.

I suffered this because Lina was, on the one hand, my wife. And on the other, she was Lina. I was included in the story, the object to be saved. In any good love story, both characters are noble and good. Lina played the goddess, but I was also idealized, perceived flaws falling away, the great leader of his people for which the main character would suffer and risk so much. And I suffered because I had no choice. Lina would never submit to a lesser role, she could taste the reverence the army had for her. To force her would shatter the illusion, make her in one instant a mortal woman and myself an object of hate.

Most of our scant time alone together was spent on her favorite subject, politics.

“You have to agree, Karbalos did a fantastic job in Siga, especially the surrounding countryside. Even now, Hamalcar controls little more than the city itself, if reports are to be believed. This idea of Mauretania is truly popular out there.” Lina poked around my tent, looking for quality wine or who knows what. Yes, Karbalos had done wonders in Siga. But he had also been Lina’s man in the end, supporting Stenu’s reckless break with the Lusotann over my objections and ensuring the Utrana got more than their fair share of confiscated Carthaginian estates to dole out as patronage. More than that, I thought he had been beholden to me. I’d sent him with Stenu to watch over the young general.

“Well, speak up, have you thought about who will be the next governor in Siga? You’ve insisted so often that the army spend only a month to resupply and recruit in Lixus before heading east to evict Hamalcar, I nearly think you intend to take the city yourself.”

“I think not.” I smiled at that. Oh, I wanted to. I wanted to march with the army east. To conquer gloriously again, just as I’d bested the Carthaginians outside of Lixus with the first Army of Mauretania, when no one thought it possible. But Mauretania couldn’t afford it. No one else came close to the network of contacts and bonds of loyalty I held over Atlantic Maure. Not even Lina. She’d be swallowed by jealousies and the fallout of her plots within a year. Sala and Lixus both called me leader, and the chieftains and matriarchs of southern Mauretania had learned to trust or obey me. I wanted to march to glory, but doing so meant risking the tenuous unity I’d built in Atlantic Maure.

“Well you must have someone in mind.” Lina pretended to be exasperated. “Someone with a steady hand.” There, she struck at the heart of the matter. I didn’t have a good idea who to set in place over Siga. My contacts across the mountains suggested regaining control over the province wouldn’t be hard. The rural notables wouldn’t antagonize Carthage with Hamalcar on their doorstep, but they’d been happy with Karbalos’ policies. They’d again enthusiastically support a Mauretanian occupation of Siga on the same terms.

Finally, I turned to Lina, ready with my answer. “When I have decided on my choice, I promise I shall let you know.” Let her assume I had a good list of candidates. That all the men I trusted with real ability hadn’t already been sent with the first Army of Mauretania or put into important positions in Atlantic Maure. In any case, I had no intention of finalizing a candidate until the Second Army was about to march east. I didn’t need to give Lina time to corrupt this one, like she’d gotten to Karbalos.

“Well you shouldn’t take too long about it. It’s an important position, you know. We might have to declare Siga the capital again, like Stenu did, if that farce brings us more support from the warriors of the eastern Maure.” Not that Karbalos or the other men Lina brought into her service thought of themselves as corrupted. Lina did an excellent job of using our marriage to convince them that my goals and hers were one and the same. But that was only the case most of the time.

“I’m well aware, my dear. Now, perhaps tonight…” I gestured towards my cot.

Lina looked at me with mild pity. “Same as last night, my dear. Warrior goddesses don’t get taken by big manly men with a bunch of grunting and hollering going on. And you still need to sleep in the big tent of authority. I still need to be one of the people. Gods, I can’t wait for my bed in Lixus.”

Lina stood on her toes and wrapped her arms around my neck, kissing me. I felt my need to be close to her satisfied and my lust enflamed at the same time. Strange that this Lina, sword belted around her waist and dirty from the march, was just as lovely as the perfumed version.

And then she was gone, to sleep on the ground, privacy ensured by only two short sticks and a blanket, the meanest of tents, with some unit or other she hadn’t favored recently. I growled unhappily, and tried to turn my mind to more productive matters.

Melman proved to be another problem. A fine horseman, certainly, and not without intellect, but he didn’t have the discipline or patience to run an army. The details escaped him. He read quartermaster’s reports while expecting it was someone else’s job to make sure they continued to provide good news. He viewed officers as interchangeable cogs, as if the rank brought ability rather than the reverse.

Lina’s man Pintamos effectively ran the army, although Melman was oblivious to this. At least the man seemed capable enough on the march. I stood back and watched while the days passed by. At first I’d wanted to make sure I hadn’t made a mistake in continuing to back Melman, willing to accept his claim that rain and Carthaginian patrols had delayed his rendezvous with the army. Although some of his men told me in secret that it was only Melman’s fear of Carthaginian ambush that forced him to proceed with caution. Now, I was simply trying to figure out how to salvage the situation without wasting Melman’s considerable loyalty to me.

It seemed likely I’d have to turn to Pintamos in some fashion. Oh, he’d done everything right. He officially transferred authority over the army to me immediately after the victory outside of Sala. He came to me privately on the pretext of formally introducing himself. I’d interacted with him briefly before, of course, but he’d been appointed by one of the southern chieftains and wanted to make a point of declaring his loyalty to me personally as the head of Mauretania. He occasionally let his face express distaste when we saw Lina amongst the men, when the rank and file weren’t in a position to see him. But I could tell it was an act. There would be no need for a formal relationship between us if Lina hadn’t elevated his status. His ‘I was just following the orders of nobility above my status’ act when it came to Lina’s charade was hardly believable. Pintamos’ confidence was rising, and it was rising along with Lina’s popularity with the men. Still, the man knew the forms. And if one has to deal with politically flexible men, let them be competent military officers beholden to your wife.

Finally, we reached Lixus. The army had little time to celebrate its victory, although a number of people with ties to Sala sent gifts, as it made itself ready to march east. After greeting the right notables and reestablishing myself as the political center of the city, I promptly disappeared for a few days. Lina had returned to our house, once again the perfumed noble lady, but for a few nights at least, neither of us wanted anything more than to be simply man and woman, together in love.

***

[Lina Utrana Sagun]

After two days of bliss, enjoying having Ti all to myself and throwing aside other concerns, I turned my hand back to politics and made sure my affairs were in order. Several projects were at critical stages, and despite the deceptive lull in the war with Carthage, now was a crucial time for shaping the future. I was investing a considerable portion of Utrana’s resources in my projects, and it would not do to have them fall part now.

A cool evening breeze comforted me on the third day back in Lixus. I felt energized, a combination of the physical resilience built up from hard days marching and hard nights sleeping on the ground and the luxury of rich meals, idle hours, and comfortable sleep I’d enjoyed over the last few days.

Sanion, my escort, pounded on the door of the small residence I’d owned until very recently. The residence was not impressive as such things go, but it was in an upscale area of town and couldn’t be described as either a hut or an apartment in a larger building. Socially, that made a very important distinction. The resident was neither a renter nor a prosperous tradesperson who needed to live near their interests. If not one of the city’s notables who needed to awe with the grandeur of their home, the resident was nevertheless someone of distinction.

Pintamos himself opened his door. Sanion cleared his throat to prepare to introduce himself and then me, as he would to a house slave or on a formal occasion, but I interrupted him before he could get started. I wanted to keep things on an informal basis. “The house is acceptable, I hope, Pintamos?”

“It is what I expected, which largely pleases me. Do come in.”

I entered with Sanion, and took a seat when Pintamos gestured to one. He brought wine and fruit from a nearby table, where they had been waiting. I had sent a messenger to tell him we were coming earlier in the day. Only one servant peeked at us from around a corner. “This is Sanion, my cousin, a respected member of House Utrana.”

Sanion rose, and embraced Pintamos. “I am most pleased to meet you, young Sanion. I believe I saw you riding a painted horse earlier today.”

“Er, yes…”

“You managed to get out and see Haroon work the boys, then?” I was pleased. Hopefully he could give me a second opinion on Haroon’s training.

“They looked ready for war.” Pintamos might as well have been asking me a question. Which was understandable, as one of the top officers in the Second Army, it ought to surprise Pintamos to see men training for battle that he’d never heard of.

“Haroon is a Lusotann whose masters lost the political battles in Iberia. I hired him to train bodyguards for the more martial Utrana youth. Men who might one day lead armies.” The shock on Sanion’s face was as clear to Pintamos as it was to me. I don’t know if he hadn’t thought beyond commanding a strong cavalry arm or if Sanion just didn’t expect me to admit my plans for him, but the reaction was most welcome. It showed Pintamos that Sanion was wholly mine, which in some respects made Pintamos, a negotiated ally, a step above Sanion. It is much easier to get a man to accept an apprentice than it is an equal partner.

“Sanion will not be leaving Lixus with the Second Army. He will follow soon after, as reinforcements Ti will either request of me after hearing of the trained men, or will grudgingly accept if it is necessary I offer them. If there is one thing Ti never turns down, it is more Maure to fight his wars.”

“His wars?” Pintamos wore a half-smile, one that seemed to indicate he’d caught me in a bit of judicious word play.

I rolled my eyes. “As he sees them.” Sanion was quiet, still processing the implied marching orders and what they meant for him.

Pintamos was thinking along much the same lines, “and shall I continue to be attached to the Second Army?” He sounded somewhat frustrated that he hadn’t earned command of the army himself.

Well for that matter, so was I. I had no more desire to live with the pig-headed Melman, but Ti had become depressingly stubborn regarding the matter. I didn’t discuss the problem with Pintamos, of course. Instead, I reminded him that he was not simply a soldier to be ordered around, but a thinking force to be reckoned with. Some men work better when they have clear orders, others needed to know that they were choosing a path in their own interest. Pintamos was one of the latter. “Well that’s up to you. You have the residence here in Lixus, and are already assured of Utrana’s gratitude. If you want to avoid further risk and combat, and stay here in the city as my military advisor, that will always be an option for you.” Retirement, in essence. Sanion attempted to school his features, but his very blank face revealed he thought that would be the coward’s choice. “If you want to continue with the Second Army, I’m certain Ti will ensure you are made second-in-command to Melman. He seemed impressed with your professionalism on the march north, and I can pressure him on that if he doesn’t do so on his own.”

Pintamos considered without responding. Sanion stayed silent as well, either knowing it wasn’t his time to speak or simply enjoying watching me work. "The real question is what will happen after Siga is retaken. Speaking of which, is that as inevitable as Ti seems to think it is?”

Pintamos nodded without having to really think about it. “Yes, assuming the Carthaginians don’t send considerable reinforcements by sea. The surrounding population supports us, so Hamalcar can’t raise local troops. Our last reliable report from the east said that the Army of Mauretania under Tarkun survived its defeat at the hands of the Numidians and was marching west once again behind the coastal range. The Army of Mauretania will attract any reinforcing troops that might otherwise have gone to Hamalcar.”

The affirmation did not reassure me. Mauretania had placed so much hope in Stenu that his death seemed to overshadow the survival of his army.

Pintamos continued. “As for me, I think I am best suited to continued service in the army, if you think that is wise.” Meaning, if I would ensure his career continues to advance.

“Oh, that is excellent news.” I clapped my hands. “Why, I suspect you’ll be in command of the Second Army by the time it leaves Siga.” Pintamos and Sanion both looked interested. “It will probably halt for news and reinforcements while Melman installs himself as governor of Siga, of course.” If only the stupid turd could somehow get himself killed in battle. I suspected he wasn’t brave enough for that. I rolled my eyes at Sanion and Pintamos’ surprise. Especially Pintamos, I’d assumed the guards he set on Ti’s tent would have told him about my careful prompting of Ti on the matter, emphasizing how ‘reliable’ the governor would have to be. Reliable to Ti was code for ‘loyal’, not ‘competent.’

“Sanion should reach Siga before the Second Army marches east to meet up with Tarkun, leading his company of ‘volunteers.’” Both men noticed I made no mention of the very real possibility that Tarkun and the Army of Mauretania may have been annihilated by that point. “You already have the respect of the men for following me south, Pintamos. I hope the respect of the officers will come to you as they realize you will effectively be leading the army to Siga.” Pintamos nodded, pleased. He expected the same thing.

“Sanion will have no official rank and position, but you must set him above the other officers when he joins you. He must be seen as the most important noble in the army, second to you only because you were appointed above him by my darling Ti.” Now Pintamos frowned. He failed to see how this plan would benefit him, his innate caution noting a possible growing irrelevance. Glancing at Sanion, he seemed merely pleased. I hoped he gave more thought to how such a thing could be made possible. “Sanion, dear, how do you think it would be best for Pintamos to do this?”

“Hmmm.” Silence followed, as both men thought and I watched them closely. “It seems simple enough,” Sanion hesitated, then continued with greater confidence, “if Pintamos has command of the army, he need only accept my men into the army, then set other units underneath us, for simple purposes such as foraging, and the like. Along the march, he can set me above all the other officers in one way or another until by habit they obey commands originating from me, rather than simply passed through me.” It seemed a good enough plan, much as I expected. I remained silent. My recent experience notwithstanding, I didn’t truly understand how any army worked among the captains and generals. And Pintamos still seemed conflicted. “Maybe if…”

Pintamos seemed to make a decision, then interrupted Sanion. “That will not be enough. Under your plan, your authority would be ephemeral. Subject to destruction by ambitious captains.” Pintamos pointed at me. “You mean to do more than simply raise Sanion to a position of power. You’re setting a precedent for all of Utrana. That where their painted horses ride, so goes the heart of Mauretania.” I grinned, exhilarated. I couldn’t have said it better myself.

“Precisely.”

The conversation, stopped unexpectedly, as Sanion and I waited for Pintamos to continue. He stood instead, suddenly uneasy. The house girl, knowing what was good for her, had long since retreated out of hearing range. Pintamos tracked her down anyway, making sure she left the house. Not for any practical purpose, but to brace himself for a decision he wanted to make without witnesses. Sanion wanted to stand and reassure him, or help him, but I motioned the young man back down and took another sip of the wine I’d stocked Pintamos’ house with.

Finally Pintamos rejoined us, once again seemingly at ease with himself. “An example will need to be made. Multiple examples, actually. First, Sanion will have to give direct orders to one or more of the captains. We’ll find a hot head. I trust you can be deliberately rude.” Pintamos nodded at Sanion without waiting for him to respond. “The first time it will be an order that came through me, delivered by Sanion, whether or not the captain knows it. When one of them refuses without official confirmation, I’ll have him flogged for refusal to obey a superior officer. Not publically, but not secretly, either. But ambiguous, see, as if the flogging might be because he disobeyed an order that originated from me.

“The second incident will be harder. Sanion will give a direct order, something that contradicts one given by me. Perhaps a foraging party will be sent out with strict orders to rendezvous at a specific place and time. Sanion will come across them on some errand, and give them an order which will cause them to be late, or some such thing, then leave. They’ll be stuck. Obey an obviously ill-considered command idly given, or obey a direct and important order by me.”

“I’ll have to reprimand Sanion, of course, for giving an order which contradicted mine.” This didn’t seem right, but then, Pintamos didn’t seem finished. He was swirling the wine around in his cup, looking at it. “But hopefully this will be the same officer as before. I’ll give some fine speech, publically, to the entire army. About discipline, and loyalty, and obedience to their superiors. And have the officer who disobeyed Sanion executed.” Pintamos nodded, playing the scene over in his head.

Sanion’s eyebrows shot up and his mouth dropped. I was surprised myself. I’d had people killed of course, more than once. But always criminals or someone who posed a threat to Mauretania. “Could it be done another way?”

“Oh, certainly. Either way, the oracles and seers will be bribed to add religious reverence to the volunteer unit as protectors, avatars of a father god, something like that."

"Or a warrior goddess."

Pintamos nodded, a little wary. "Yes, that will work as well. Every army carries a few flexible priests for similar tasks, and predictions of victory. If Sanion is particularly successful, if the officers fall in line, this army will begin to take orders from him. But a death, for essentially obeying an order from the head of the army, the death of a high officer, a captain. This will send shockwaves beyond just the Second Army. It will set a monstrously strong precedent.

“That the orders of an Utrana must never be disobeyed, unless contradicted by a superior officer in person, not simply in intent. And punishment by death must always be sanctioned by the priests in an army, lest the men get restless. An execution will mean sanctity to the Utrana name by association. I will be sorely upset, morose, even helpless, at the event, underscoring the power of an Utrana command. I make some minor action to ensure I am still recognized as the head of the army, and Sanion will submit to that, so that he cannot be accused of seizing power by death and deceit. And that too, will strengthen the play.

“The rumors will spread. How could they not? And therein will lie the final test. Does an outside power, outraged at what I’ve let happen, reduce Sanion or myself? Can some governor, can Ti Sagun reach from Atlantic Maure and bring down Sanion, strip him of his power and his men? If they do not do this, do not humble your family against your direct will, then when other Utrana ride forth, they will be obeyed without question by all but the generals. And perhaps even them.” Pintamos looked up from his cup. “I will do this, if you ask it of me.”

It could work. A bold plan. A heady plan. I knocked back the last of my wine. A bitter beginning, but with an aftertaste so sweet. I looked at Sanion. He was scared, and right to be so. This plan was not without risk to him. But in his fear he looked to me to lead. Could I do this? Doom an innocent man I had not met, who fought for Mauretania? If it worked…

“Do this, then. Make the Utrana royalty by right of command.” I looked at Sanion. “You will ride forth under a new banner. An image of a woman, of the dutiful wife.” He nodded in obedience. I stood and turned to Pintamos, offering him my hand. “And you, if you can pull this off, will not just be thanked by the Utrana. You and your family will be beloved of my house.” Pintamos took my hand, meeting my eyes, the lust for power keeping the shame out of his, much as it did mine.

I sat him back down then, and settled in again. Although the main business of the night was over, some trivial details still needed attending to. I eyed Pintamos once more. It would be well to give him a gift, unbidden. One that showed gratitude even before service was rendered, though I was sure it would come. Something to ease his mind about the truth of my generosity to my allies.

“I see, Pintamos, that you have need of a wife. Perhaps you will permit me to fix this minor oversight before you leave Lixus…”

***

Lady Anner Kalah, wife of Kronu Kalah, once one of the most respected noblewomen in Lixus, walked past the window to my beading room. A socialite, still, if a bit unwelcome in most houses of late. A woman I’d looked up to when I was young, newly married, before inheriting the position of Matriarch of the Utrana. A rival, for a short time. Once the most prominent noblewoman in Lixus, as the fickle socialites shunned me and my radical opinions. Until Cardocca met the wrath of a wronged husband and the Lusotann presence in Mauretania vanished in a night of violence. Rich, though in the manner of an urban family, not associated with a great rural clan. Though rumor had it that Kronu was attempting to woo many of the clients that had once looked to Stenu in the eastern hills in an attempt to expand the family’s stagnant fortunes.

I stood up, smiling at my guests: Maler, and Asherah the Phoenician. Putting a musical trill in by voice, “I think our fourth has arrived. Let me greet her and tell the servants to start preparing our lunch.”

I skipped, light on my feet, to the entry hall and opened the door myself before Lady Kalah’s escort could pound on it. There she stood, nervous enough to put a huge smile on my face. “Anner! Darling, come in, you finally made it!” Her escort started forward, then stopped, waiting for me to invite him in so he could mingle with the other servants. “You may wait for your lady out here.” I closed the door as the servant looked around uncomfortably, trying to find a shady spot in the hot street. It was far cooler inside, where a small pool of water helped maintain the morning’s more pleasant temperature.

I hugged Lady Kalah after closing the door before partially releasing my grip and guiding her by the shoulders to the breezy beading room. It was the sort of body language that could only be either exuberantly friendly or dangerously controlling. Fear and hope all rolled up into one ambiguous package. “This is Maler and Asherah. Friends, this is Anner, or Lady Kalah if you prefer.” Lady Kalah smiled carefully as I gently lowered her to her seat. She took in Asherah first, recognizing her immediately. The Phoenician was well-known to the city’s nobility. Maler took a second, but I saw recognition flare in Lady Kalah’s eyes for a split second before her face resumed its neutral composure.

Somewhere along the way Lady Kalah had met Maler, the butcher-woman of no house, with her strong arms and calloused hands. Maler was utterly loyal to me, although she’d never think of it that way if you asked her. She’d taken up a trade when her husband joined Ti’s great levy, becoming one tiny cog in the massive Army of Mauretania, when the city had so few men who could work. Maler’s business thrived and expanded when I took note of her, the day peace-in-name was renewed and trade began again between Mauretania and Lusotann-controlled Iberia. She was one of a handful of ordinary women I’d elevated by taking them into my orbit. Maler seemed to genuinely enjoy the time she spent with me, which I devoutly hoped was true.

Lady Kalah followed the protocol that governed informal gatherings without missing a beat, bowing her head in greeting to Asherah and again, just as low, to Maler. Although her shoulders may have tensed the slightest bit. “Did you bring something to work on? I have extra things and some patterns if you need them.”

“Oh that’s quite alright.” Lady Kalah pulled her beading from the bag she carried with her. She was halfway through a decorative bracelet. Maler shot me another grateful smile. I’d invited her earlier than the other two, pretending they were fashionably late, and gave her a short tutorial on beading and a half-completed tassel, the simplest of patterns. As host, I supplied the beads as a matter of course.

We gossiped for a bit about high society and men. Maler was generally quiet as we talked about other socialites, of course, but she did cause a bit of a titter when she revealed a common acquaintance, probably a customer of hers, was known to faint at the sight of blood.

“Well, now, what are you girls working on? Asherah, I’m surprised to see you using so many browns.”

“Well,” Asheah dipped her head and covered her mouth briefly, as if she was embarrassed, “it’s a locust, actually.”

“A locust? Why, whatever for?” Maler reacted first, genuinely curious. I saw that Lady Kalah noticed the breach in socialite etiquette, as Maler prevented me from following up on the topic I’d opened. Perhaps here might be a chink in her armor.

“It’s going to be a banner, for the captain’s room on one of my ships. It lost sight of land one night last autumn, and the next day a swarm of locusts appeared as if out of nowhere and devoured the sail, if you can believe it. But then the captain, thinking fast, realized the locusts must have come from land and got the crew to rowing for the shore, saving the ship.”

We murmured our appreciation for the captain’s quick thinking, then Lady Kalah decided to make a quick foray to judge the lay of the land. “Is that a… tassle you’re working on, Maler?”

“Oh, yes.” The three of us could almost hear her squelch the follow up: ‘nothing too complicated.’

“And all one color, too.” Not the hint of disapproval in Lady Kalah’s tone. She knew the game well.

“I like green.”

I beamed a smile at Maler. “What do you think you’ll do with it, Maler?”

“Oh, uh… Well I suppose I’ll give it to my son, if he does well in school. I’m sending him to Aratu, one of the very best for reading and writing and other things.”

“That is so sweet.” I made sure the praise was clear in my voice.

“And is that a bracelet you’re working on Anner?” This was obvious, and it was a fantastic piece of work, too, weaving several colors together in a mesmerizing pattern. “Who is it for?”

“Actually, I’m making it for m…” I interrupted Lady Malah before she could say ‘myself.’

“Hmm. Bracelets are terribly out of style, aren’t they?” I said this with a straight face, as I continued working on the bracelet I was crafting. Bracelets were not out of fashion.

This gave Lady Kalah a start, not that she showed it. “Well, I’m sure they will be popular again sooner or later.”

The servants signaled lunch was ready then, and came with food and wine. The beading work slowed to a crawl. Conversation picked up as we finished and eyed another sweet or two.

“May I be honest for a moment?” Asherah seemed to want to bring up a weighty topic.

“Always, my friend.”

“I’m a bit surprised you haven’t asked me about the latest news from Iberia, although I fear some of us may become bored if we turn to politics.” Asherah nodded apologetically to Lady Kalah, rather than Maler, since Asherah is exceptionally perceptive.

“Well perhaps I’ve been relying a bit too much on letters lately. I’m afraid I’m terribly behind on trader’s gossip.”

“Oh! Well, that might mean Ti and Abulos don’t know yet, either.”

“Out with it, what is the news?” I threatened Asherah with a bit of bread dipped in honey.

“The Arsea-Edetani coalition continues to thrive. They’ve raised another army, a respectable one I might add, and have marched off to war again.”

“Against Rome?” I was aghast. “Any temporary success will never last. The Republic’s long wanted to extend its control of the coast.”

“Oh no,” Asherah shook her head to reinforce her statement, “they’ve marched west and laid siege to Baikor.”

I put down the honeyed bread without eating it, surprised. Most of my Iberian contacts were within the Lusotann confederacy, and while I had one in Bocchoris, I had none in Arsae. So I had no inkling such a move was being considered. Ti, man of action, probably would have shot up and paced around the room. But there was nothing to do now, of course, not here in Lixus. I’d have to think for quite some time about what this meant. With luck I could bring it to Ti tomorrow while the news was still fresh, and frame it such a way that the right reaction would be the one Ti decided on. In the meantime, there was no reason not to use this for my current purposes.

“I don’t think they’ll assault the city.” Asherah continued, “not with what happened when that Carthaginian tried. So taking the city is questionable at best. But even if they have to pull back for winter, they’ll probably still assume control of important areas of the countryside and make off with several thousand head of cattle.”

“We may need to send aid.” I’d never actually consider using Mauretania’s resources when it probably didn’t matter to one way or another who was successful in the war. “Don’t you think, Anner?”

“Oh. Well,” Lady Kalah had never paid much attention to politics outside of Lixus. Her last involvement with international affairs was toadying up to the Lusotann during her brief ascendency as the most important woman in Lixus. “It’s certainly something to think about.”

“Leather is always needed in war. Tents, armor, and the like. Maybe declare forced donations of animals from the eastern herdsmen and set the crafters to support our allies.” I wondered aloud, knowing that in addition to the Kalahs’ recent acquisitions in the hills most of their Lixus clients were leatherworkers.

Lady Kalah made no response. Right now she’d be wondering if I knew the Kalah family was heavily reliant on leatherworking and their new eastern investments, then discarding that thought with the realization that of course I knew her family’s business. Immediately followed by wondering if I’d had Asherah bring up the unexpected news on purpose. I hadn’t, of course. Then, incredulity: I couldn’t possibly consider wasting that many resources just to persecute her family, could I? Finally, doubt: I was not known for kindness to my enemies.

“Well, it’s something for the men to think about, anyway.” Asherah looked at me in curiosity. I could grill her later. I kept my voice light and carefree.

And then, a gift: Melar had been gamely keeping up her end of the conversation with the rest of us ladies, and decided international politics would be no different. “Do you know, some time ago, I was wor… walking in the street when I heard some fool yelling at his companion: ‘the Atlantic! The Romans have reached the damned Atlantic! It’s a disaster, is what it is,’ and he kept on like that for awhile. Well I immediately assumed they’d attacked Atlantic Maure. I bought six sacks of grain and hauled them home myself that very night, worried about a siege.”

I’d learned long ago Lady Kalah had good instincts. Certainly one of her best qualities. But as soon as I heard Melar tell her little story, I knew what Lady Kalah was going to do. She was injured, she was scared, and I’d kept her on her toes all day. The best way to put up a show of strength is to bully a weaker member of the herd.

Lady Kalah laughed as if appreciating Melar’s story. “Can you imagine, what it would be like without any contacts or clients at all? If someone were so bereft of importance they might actually think an army could approach Lixus without hearing any rumors warning of its approach?” I thought about letting her build up a head of steam before I cut her off, but I liked Melar and didn’t want to hear any cracks about people who thought a teacher was any substitute for a personal tutor or some such nonsense.

“Actually, I can.” My voice was cold and unforgiving. “I think I remember the Lusotann catching Xanthippos and the Carthaginians by surprise at Lixus.” I smiled as if I’d suddenly remembered protocol and wanted to paper over an unpleasant turn in the conversation. After all, when Lady Kalah felt my next cut I didn’t want her to think it was in defense of Melar. Luckily, my favorite butcher held herself to a hateful gaze in Lady Kalah’s direction.

I stood up, holding the honey-spotted dish I’d been using in front of me. One of the servants waiting politely out of earshot moved forward to take it from me, but I moved it to my other hand, away from her. She stopped, uncertain. “Well that was a lovely meal, I hope you ladies enjoyed it.”

My guests agreed that they did.

“Anner, would you be a dear and grab that plate of olives for me?” Silence descended as Lady Kalah looked up at me in surprise. There were no olives, just left over pits in front of Melar. I saw her run the situation through her head. If this were a socialite party, which had been the form all along, guests would never, ever, be asked to take care of their own dishes. Even if this was a lunch in an ordinary Maure household, the host would take care of all such necessities. But maybe, just maybe I was making this the most informal gathering of friends, like commoners might do, to somehow make her feel small for slighting Melar. Just maybe, I was standing with a used plate in my hand because I was being eccentric, and we were all going to take plates to the kitchen. Maybe, if Lady Kalah refused, I was setting her up to look the fool.

Two instincts came into play: on uncertain ground do not do what they’d expect, and avoid giving offense without purpose. Lady Kalah smiled as if my request was the most normal thing in the world, and picked up the plate of olive pits sitting in front of Melar, who although well off, was the poorest of my guests. I turned as if to follow Lady Kalah to the kitchen, waited for her to take a few hesitant steps, and then sat down. “Oh, not that way. Throw the pits out into the street first.”

Even Asherah, who was so used to following my lead, pulled her lips into an ‘o’ in shock. Even Melar knew something was up, watching the scene tensely, like a cat.

I’d tricked her into the first few steps, and now Lady Kalah was faced with another decision. Would she continue to act as my servant, willingly submitting to the humiliation, or refuse. Asking her to throw the olive pits into the street hinted at more than just a private humiliation without actually being so. It was the sort of detail that made her think about what to do without just acting, exposing her uncertainty and weakness.

The three of us sat and waited, although Melar actually looked sorry for Lady Kalah.

Finally, Lady Kalah decided she was sufficiently scared of me and my earlier threats to ruin her family. She swept to the door and opened it to throw the olive pits into the street even as I signaled the servants to come take the rest of the plates and other debris. Lady Kalah thrust the now empty olive plate towards one of the servants, but the girl, bless her, looked to me first and I shook my head ‘no.’ Face red with fury and shame, Lady Kalah followed the servants to the kitchen, where I heard her throw the plate to break upon the ground. I hoped none of my people cut their feet. She returned to her seat, not saying a word.

I brought out my beading, and started working on it again, soon commenting on the weather. I was the very essence of correctness and hospitality. After all, I needed the taste of fear, humiliation, and potential ruin to fade before I made my pitch to Lady Kalah, wealthy lady of Lixus, wife of Kronu Kalah, of an urban family with no significant extended family, mother of one teenage and one infant daughter, and no sons.

When the time was right, I insisted that I (the dutiful wife), must oversee dinner preparations for Ti, and thanked my guests effusively for coming. I saw the three of them to the door, and then I pretended I could see Lady Kalah’s escort wherever he’d found shade. “Oh, your man looks so comfortable, we positively can’t disturb him. Stay for a few more minutes.” Lady Kalah shot me a look, but stayed.

“What,” she hissed, after the door had closed and we were alone but for the servants, “was that?”

I smiled. “We could become the best of friends, you know. Allies.” This surprised her. She began to say something, but I interrupted her. “For a price.” Lady Kalah disliked bluntness. It is always better to start negotiations off on the right foot. She narrowed her eyes and turned to leave. “And of course, I can stop harassing your husband’s efforts to reach out to Stenu’s former clients. I can even tell the few Utrana I know in the area to give him whatever information they might have on the situation.”

Lady Kalah turned back, considering. If there was anyone she would suffer being humiliated by, it was the most powerful noblewoman in Lixus. Provided that, to the rest of society, she became once again a player and a power to be reckoned with. This was my true bargaining chip. But that would have to be brought up in her preferred fashion, with the subtleties. “I know a man, a good man, of position in the army. I expect great things out of him…”
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***

Ti still had not returned from a review of the city’s defenses with Abulos after the normal dinner hour had passed. As I considered what business to take care of that evening, one of the servants came up to me and told me two strange people were at the door. He’d tried to send them away, but apparently the young man insisted he knew me.

Curious, I went to the door. There were, in fact, three people waiting there: a young man in a rough cloak and carrying a sword, a teenage girl in similarly poor clothing, and the girl’s young child, no more than a few weeks old. The young man called out to me before turning to the girl. “Lina! See, I told you this was the right place.”

They didn’t look poor enough to be beggars, and I doubted the man would bring an infant along if he intended to use his sword, so I invited them in. The boy introduced himself, his sister, and his young nephew, yet another Stenu.

“An’ I told my sister how after you came to us bathed in light, you marched right beside us, all the way south. All that way for love. And she agreed it was the most amazing thing she ever heard. An’, well, we want your blessing for Stenu.”

“My blessing?”

The young man’s words rushed forth, as if he desperately wanted to forestall my refusal. “I know we’re supposed to wait for two months, but I just know you’re the one who’s supposed to do it, an’ sis’ didn’t think she could come alone, and when the time comes I’ll be east, see, and wouldn’t be able to come with her…”

After a baby had lived a few months, when it was more likely it would survive, it was customary to take it to a priest of the family’s house gods, or failing that, a local shrine. But I’d never worried overly much about the gods, I was hardly qualified to beseech one for its blessing.

I suddenly realized what the young soldier was asking. He wanted my blessing for the child. I was absolutely shocked. So much so that it showed on my face, and the soldier stopped speaking. I recovered, and gave my warmest smile to the girl. “Of course I will bless your child.” I placed my hand on the soldier’s shoulder, my arm held stiffly in front of me, rather than bent, as another man would to show respect. “I would do the same for the beloved of any man I marched with.” Despite my woman’s dress, he beamed with pride.

I thought desperately, wondering what I would say, what possible symbol I could use to bless the child. But the young man knew what he wanted. He unbuckled his sword-belt and handed it to me. The girl took a deep breath and held her child out as far as she could without making the infant uncomfortable. Acting on instinct, I dipped my hand into the wash basin that sat near the door and wet the child’s forehead.

I spoke loudly but without yelling, as if addressing several people. “Hear me Stenu, new unto this world. I give unto you, for this day and all of your life, three gifts.” Grasping the sword, I pulled it from its sheath, grinding the edge of the metal so that the sword rang with the motion. I touched the flat of the blade gently to the infant’s wet forehead, hoping there was no imperfection in the metal which would cut the baby. “Pride, valor, and fidelity.” I lifted the blade. “Stay true to yourself and these strengths will always be with you. Pride in yourself and your family. Valor in combat and before all the troubles of the world. Fidelity to your loved ones, repaid in turn.” The baby opened its eyes then, and looked directly at me. It was incredibly cute. I smiled, and dropped the formal tone. “And maybe, if you’re lucky, the passion of your namesake, the heart of your uncle, and the beauty of your mother.” Placing my hand on the crown of the child’s head, I kissed its forehead, then sheathed the sword and handed it back to the young man, hoping I’d pleased them.

“Oh, thank you m’lady!” The girl moved forward, and I couldn’t tell if she was going to try and hug me while she was holding the baby or drop to her knees. Luckily little Stenu started to cry, and she decided to nurse him instead.

The brother muttered his thanks, embarrassed about something, and turned to usher his sister out of my door. I wanted to offer them food and rest, as a host should, but the young man suddenly turned and rushed back towards me and fell to his knees. “I promise, I’ll get you a proper gift when I can, something good and fine from back east,” he glanced around nervously, eyeing my expensive possessions. I grabbed his arms and lifted him back up.

“No. You fought with me and gave me back my husband. It is I that owes you.”

The young man fought back tears, thanked me again, and turned to leave with his sister as suddenly as they had arrived. I stood in my doorway to let him see me when he turned to glance back at my house, then went inside and closed the door.

It took me all night to process just what, in fact, had happened that evening. I never fully understood why they decided to seek my blessing.

***

I blessed several more children over the next few weeks, coming up with a surprising number of variations, but generally sticking to virtues somehow associated with the image of the dutiful wife in the form of a warrior goddess. Ti was furious when he found out, insisting that it was sacrilege and that I was committing blasphemy by masquerading as a goddess. I scoffed at his objections, declaring that if the gods were opposed they wouldn’t have sent the young man and his sister to me in the first place. And in any case, I was nowhere near that delusional, which the gods could plainly read in my heart. I continued giving the blessings, though if Ti were around when someone asked I arranged to meet the family in a wooded grove outside the city at night.

The requests seemed to slack off as the Second Army was restricted to camp as it prepared to march east towards Siga. This was a relief, as I needed all the time I could find to arrange the wedding preparations. It was hard to believe little more than a month had passed since we had returned to Lixus in triumph.

I met Pintamos before the ceremony. He was exceedingly happy with me, and with himself for allying with the Utrana. He’d never dreamed of marrying as high as Esme Kalah, especially not if the family in question was wealthy. I decided Pintamos could get used to Lady Anner Kalah on his own. It wasn’t my problem if he needed help handling her.

“Ti finally made it official. I will be second in command of the army, and Melman will get the governorship when we retake Siga.”

“I hope the locals don’t let him actually run anything.”

“Heh. I have a question though.” I glanced around to make sure no one was eavesdropping, then nodded. “After all the rest, what happens if we meet up with Tarkun.”

“Combine forces and prosecute the war against the Carthaginians to the best of your ability.” Was Pintamos asking me for military advice?

“No, I mean, who gets the command. Do you want us to,” Pintamos paused, “because he’s not your man.” It was depressingly easy to understand exactly what Pintamos meant.

“Gods, no! If he’s competent, excellent. If not, sideline him if you must.” I looked Pintamos in the eye. “Killing good, loyal Maure will not become a habit, do you understand.”

“Good.” Pintamos more than understood, he was happy about my response. More casually he asked, “have you seen Sanion?”

“He’s around here somewhere.” In addition to the number of Utrana in Pintamos’ half of the wedding party, Sanion was playing the part of Pintamos’ best man.

“I’d better go find him.” I nodded in dismissal and decided to wait before entering the main room. Lady Kalah was the center of the socialites at the moment, and it wouldn’t do for her admirers to gravitate to me just yet.

***

[An excerpt from Thucydorus of Leontini's The History of Africa, Book 12.]

The fourth battle of Siga was as tame as the third. Hamalcar, master tactician that he undoubtedly was, found himself trapped and outnumbered. With a scant 5,000 men in a city with no inner fortress or citadel, even facing as poor a leader as Melman, who commanded the Mauretanian forces, there was no outcome for Hamalcar but surrender or death. The Mauretanian forces numbered over 20,000 and the townspeople offered no support, making the outcome of the affair inevitable.

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Other historians, too quick to blame a commander, and lacking experience in the field, criticize Hamalcar for allowing himself to be surrounded. A closer examination reveals the cruel truth that in war, sometimes there are no options, no solution but the favor of the gods. Where could Hamalcar go? To the west were the Maure. To the east was a hostile populace that would slow a retreat and allow those same Maure to catch Hamalcar in the field. To the south was the mountains and the desert, poor supplies meaning certain death for most of Hamalcar's men in the summer. Many paper generals with no experience insist Hamalcar should have made his way out of Siga by sea, but the practical demands of such an operation meant Hamalcar would have had to plan to abandon the city - at that time facing no enemy and and thus almost certainly returing to cries of treason at home - months in advance in order to commandeer sufficient ships to save his army. And what of the day of the battle? The doughty Carthaginian could, one supposes, have captured a fishing ship at least and made his escape. Although even then he would have had to work against the Phoenician population of Siga, who knew full well the Maure were approaching and moved their boats to sea and deprived Hamalcar of their use as a way of declaring their loyalty to the Maure army they rightly believed would capture the city. And what would these critics say of Hamalcar then? He would be shamed, as is proper for any commander who would so callously abandon his own men to their certain deaths merely to save himself.

Timophon argues differently, questioning Hamalcar's energy and dedication in not raising new forces to defend Siga. In saying this, he once again reveals his own ignorance of military affairs. To arm the rabble, Hamalcar would need arms and armor, two resources in short supply. Lacking such equipment, the people would not accept certain death to defend the city in favor of a dominion they wished to see gone. But what of convincing the local warriors? Once again, Timophon shows he knows nothing but the libraries and cities of Hellas. Timophon believes that men in a city are armed, are trained from an early age to defend their polis, and it is to these men generals must turn. Lacking experience, he has never had to ask where the steppe riders that plage Chersonessos come from, or from whence sprung the Lusotann armies that destroyed Carthage's hold on southeast Iberia. In barbarian lands, the strength of the people lie in the countryside, not within a city's walls. To recruit a native army to defend Siga, Hamalcar would have had to control the countryside, an impossible task given the wide expanse of hostile Maure who lived outside the indifferent confines of Siga's Phoenician city walls.

In truth, the whine of ignorant children aside, the great fault for the Carthaginian loss of Siga lies not with Hamalcar, but with Carthage herself. Paralyzed by the campaigns of Stenu in the east, riven by internal politics, and continuing to waste funds trying to dominate Syracuse on Sikel, the city utterly failed to support their experienced general. Reinforcements never came. A fleet to withdraw the army or better yet, hire Iberian mercenaries and properly invade Atlantic Maure never came. In the end it was not Hamalcar that lost the fourth battle of Siga. He had the genious to take the city, and the will to continue if he was but given support, but the flaws of his country and the depth of her struggles foiled all his best laid plans in the end.

A great man to the last, the master tactician refused to abandon his men and fought like a true African lion, a great loss for his home city, which needed more men like him.

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Javelins and the strong sword arm of the Maure infantry once again prove an effective combination.

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Hamalcar fights to the last, a fearsome foe in combat, even in old age.

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[MisterFred]

So... Lina fans are probably pretty happy. Battle fans, not so much. Once again a chapter is much, MUCH longer than I expected it to me. I'm pretty happy with most of the writing, but I really couldn't get a bead on how I did with the beading party segment. (MisterFred, Master of Puns.) One of the reasons I write this AAR is to experiment with styles and settings.

So don't leave me in suspense guys. Was the beading party interesting, the motivations and customs understandable, the emotions intense? Or it was it a bizarre and unnecessary add-on, full of pointless harping, hard-to-follow, and uninteresting?

[gamegeek2]

I'll have to read it first. Have been out for a bit.

[gamegeek2]

just read it.

Absolute masterpiece...

Somebody needs to do some fanart for this.

[Morte66]

Thanks for the AAR. I do like the fiction side, but it's the tactical/strategic appreciation which especially grabbed me. I've never really gotten on with low-tech factions, but your comments about Africa being the fifth style of warfare inspired me to have a go.

I used Saba (for their Semitic culture and elephant potential) with cheat codes to takeover Mauretania. I bribed some Maure troops and one city, moved the capital there, then used disbandment/suicide/revolt to remove all the starting Saba. And I edited export_decr_unit.txt to use data from African Generals for Saba FM bodyguards, so they have javelins + AP spear like Numidian Nobles.

I see what you mean about the flexibility of the multi-role troops. Maure infantry will sprint to flank/rear, chuck a load of nasty javelins, then fight somewhat adequately with swords. Numidian Archers do OK with arrows, and their AP clubs make them a good option (or less bad than the alternatives) against Carthaginian elites -- provided somebody else fixes their attention first. And I've always been scathing of javelin cavalry after using mostly Greek and Germanic varieties, but the Africans are in a different class.

There is no top class stand-and-fight unit, no heavy infantry anvil for basic pin and flank. The Maure Infantry can sort of do it if you don't lean on them too hard and you soften the enemy up first. So I end up with constant motion, a swarm of (quasi-)skirmishers pulling enemy formations apart and wearing them down before pouncing on isolated and weakened units. It's somewhat like using horse archers, but more involved. This is pretty good fun. And then there's the prospect of elephants...

The strategic position is... tricky. Carthage keeps me busy on the main eastern front as I try to survive long enough to build mines before I go on the offensive. And they randomly wander out of the desert and attack my rear cities; maybe I should have secured that flank. Plus I'm currently staring at Xanthippus the Spartan and his 19 stack army...

Keep up the good work!

[Marcus Darkstar]

nice AAR. Frankly I've always hated Africa conflict mostly due to the remotness of its interior regions of Tuat and Garama. Personally I think only fighting in the southern eyptian territories is worse. I have more fun in Iberia, Anatolia, and Syria. Greece conflict though is difficult or very easy due to the closeness of the cities there. In my current campaign the Greece Civil War (between Eperius, Mace and Kion) has been going on for almost 100 years and has no signs of stopping ehhe.

[MisterFred]

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by Tarkun of Siga

[Ch. 18]

I stood with Louk on the wooden walls of Ippone, ostensibly reviewing my men but in practice hoping to intimidate the Phoenician and review the enemy army with my own eyes. As far as I could tell, Louk had taken a major personal risk by becoming the most prominent Phoenician in Ippone to collaborate with my occupation of the city. He’d quickly become invaluable in managing the population, especially during the siege we now suffered, enforcing the rationing I’d imposed on the city despite the healthy levels of grain in the granaries. The siege had gone on for some months now, and no word came from outside. It wore the men, the constant doubt about whether or not Mauretania could even send relief. The men, on campaign for so long, felt such a disconnect from their homeland many wondered if it truly still existed, if the Carthaginians hadn’t truly conquered with a great fleet long ago.

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Louk pretended no interest in the defenses around the gate, which were the true reason he accompanied me this morning. There had been complaints when Louk had moved families out of the buildings near the gates in the city, and those buildings were torn down. It wasn’t a true hardship, as there were still empty dwellings within the walls, even with the army encamped here. The extra room had allowed me to station a few hundred cavalrymen on permanent guard near every gate, in a mini-camp much like one would find in the field. In addition to the infantry on the walls and around the gate, all Maure veterans and not mercenaries, they were more than secure.

I wanted Louk to pass on the level of precaution I’d taken, so none of the Phoenicians in the city would be foolish enough to try and betray the gates to the massive Carthaginian army waiting outside the walls. And of course, Louk himself might be one of the Phoenicians I most needed to worry about. It would not be inconceivable for the people of the city to co-operate under his ‘leadership’ if they were planning to revolt against me later. Even if his work on my behalf was a genuine attempt to become the preeminent nobleman in a new, Mauretanian Ippone, Louk might think of the besieging army and consider betraying me as the only way to avoid death as a traitor.

As the inspection continued, Louk, as always, gave me no reason to suspect betrayal. I spent more time looking out at the disorderly enemy encampment. It was a strange kind of siege. There were no attempts of circumvallation, no careful patrols or skirmishes attempting to stop supplies coming into the city. My army simply did not take the field. The enemy army made half-hearted attempts to bring rams up to undermine the walls at night, but no real effort needed to be put into the siege because the countryside naturally supported the Carthaginians and would make no effort to resupply Ippone.

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[The Mauretanian flag for the army in Ippone is hidden behind the Carthaginian flags.]

Although vast, the enemy army lacked experience, armor, and even quality weaponry. Carthage, having tasted success when Bomilcar raised the Numidian tribes, was attempting to repeat their success by all the broken men, evicted peasantry, and outraged ruralfolk from around Adrumento and Atiqa. But these were not Numidians, hardened by tribal warfare and only subdued by Carthage herself a generation ago. My men were far more experienced, disciplined, and well-armed.

Yet again, I doubted myself, wondering if I should have given battle when the enemy advanced on Ippone. Stenu would have. He would have seen the approaching army as sent by the gods. He would have turned to his Maure, told them of their hardships and their valour, and pressed with all our might at the Carthaginian masses, convinced a great victory would turn the tide of the war and bring glory to all Mauretania.

I sat behind my walls and waited, spending my time intimidating an ambitious ally. It was the right decision. The Carthaginian army could not ignore Ippone, or we would be on their supply lines. So they could not take their whole force west. While we held, Mauretania was safe from invasion. Eventually, relief would arrive or Ippone would run out of food. Only then did it make sense to risk the army.

The burnt husk of one of the enemy’s rams stood by our main gate. They hadn’t truly tried to assault the city, only probing our defenses at night. The enemy had been driven off by javelin fire and the men sallied to destroy the siege weapon. I frowned. It should be removed, to ensure a clear area for slings or javelins to attack enemies approaching our walls. I was considering whether it would be safe to do so during the day or the night when I noticed muttering on the walls.

Looking up, activity surged though the enemy camp. I relaxed, thinking perhaps they were running short on food and would make a try for the city. They could be butchered with ease. I watched the movement for a minute more, making sure of their attempt, until I realized I was wrong. A substantial portion of the Carthaginian army was forming up on the side of their camp farthest from the city, preparing to march west along the road. The rest stayed in their camp, either to maintain the siege or move against us, I could not tell.

“Why on earth would they do that?” I mused aloud, forgetting Louk still stood next to me.

“Do what?”

“Send so many of their men west. Too many are leaving for simple foraging. Too many continue to watch the walls for them to be offering battle on neutral ground.”

Louk shrugged, and I again I could not know his loyalty. Did he pretend not to know, or did he truly not care, knowing he had made his decision to back me and trusting to fate? “Who can know?”

I could, if I thought about it long enough. It took me several minutes to go through all the possibilities, until finally I realized what must have happened. Reinforcements had come. Part of the Carthaginian army had detached to try and defeat them without disrupting the siege… no. Any force Mauretania sent all the way from the homelands in the west would be larger than some few thousand men. A force of less than half the Carthaginian army could only hope to harass them, slow their advance, to stick to defensible ground and lock them into maneuvers.

While the remainder of the army… yes, they were desperate. And the reinforcements were very close. There was their remaining ram, slowly being dragged through the camp. I immediately dismissed Louk, yelling for runners, wondering how best to take advantage of the inexperienced and ill-prepared Carthaginian assault. An assault attempted by less than their full force.

There was still the possibility the relief force was vulnerable. And the effects on morale when an opposing army shows unexpected confidence. This was the time for a stand. I smiled for the first time in months. It would not be the glorious open-field clash that Stenu would have fought, but I had waited, and finally found my time to strike.

The Carthaginians had stiffened their rabble with Garamantine, Balearic, and Iberian mercenaries, but the mercenaries would not last long if the rest of the army panicked. I prepared my men in formation behind the walls, allowing them to release javelins over the wooden beams on the command of their officers.

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The Carthaginians respond to the threat posed by the Second Army under Pintamos.

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Their inexperienced commander thinks to assault Ippone while his other force delays.

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Scraping the bottom of humanity’s barrel.

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The hardened mercenaries and veterans of the Army of Mauretania.

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The Army of Mauretania sends greetings as the Carthaginians approach the walls.

As the enemy ram is brought to bear upon a previously weakened segment of the wall, the main gates were thrown open and a small, dense phalanx of Greek mercenaries charged the startled Carthaginians. The Greeks shoved the mass of the enemy back, clearing the way for other units to exit the gate and engage as well. The Army of Mauretania sallied from the city at the same time as the Carthaginian army attempted to force their way in.

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Greeks prove effective against unarmored opponents.

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The push is maintained.

Shortly after my men charge through the gate, the Carthaginian army finds a structural weakness and brings down a segment of the wall. The enemies that surge through the breach are stiffened by well armed Iberian mercenaries.

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The Iberian mercenary-led assault is met Tarkun’s own Ligurian, Greek, and Maure mercenaries.

The Garamantines finally rallied enough Carthaginians to halt the Army of Mauretania’s surge out of the main gate. For the better part of an hour, the two sides fought what appeared from the battle lines to be an even battle. But the walls prevented most of the Carthaginian force from joining the actual fighting. And the skill of the Maure and my mercenaries took a horrible toll on the untrained Carthaginians surging forward to face us.

The Carthaginian horde held for longer than I expected it to. But finally, fear took its toll. Too many friends and comrades had been mangled for the Carthaginians pressing into the city, and a few units fled back out of the breach. The Iberian mercenaries, despite losing few of their number to my own men, knew they could not stand alone. They also fled, and the trickle of men fleeing the breach in the wall became a flood. My men surged after them, and the sudden reversal combined with the sight of the toughest soldiers in the enemy army fleeing shook the morale of the enemy.

When the Ligurians turned on the men resisting the push from the main gate, the Carthaginians broke immediately. Their entire army turned to flee, heading west. My horse sallied through the gate as soon as the way was clear, and the pursuit began.

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Garamantines temporarily stiffen the Carthaginian lines.

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But the Iberian mercenaries follow the fleeing Carthaginians away from the stiff defense of the breach.

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The rout is total.

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The pursuit claims more lives than the fighting.

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The price of sending unarmed levies against hardened mercenaries and veterans.

The entire army followed in pursuit, keeping some semblance of order because they had planned to attack the enemy directly, not just defend the walls. The men ran or marched west the entire day, dogging the Carthaginians. Night fell before a proper camp could be set up, but double the normal sentries were posted.

We marched west again beginning early in the morning, the men eating only what they’d carried with them from the city the day before. I pushed on despite the officers’ concerns of hunger and exhaustion. Midway through the morning, we found the other body of Carthaginians, beginning a desperate assault of another Maure army as ill-advised as the attack on Ippone.

I advanced my men at a forced march and hit them just as they engaged with the reinforcing Maure. The Carthaginians shattered immediately, few of their units even pretending to engage before ignoring their officers and turning to run. My own horse and the reinforcing army’s painted cavalry rode down thousands of fleeing men.

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Sanion and the Second Army.

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Trapped.


***

That evening, after my horsemen and I broke enemy units trying to link up and other necessary tasks were finished, I rode to the other army’s camp, as its commander, Pintamos, and I had agreed after the victory.

The tents and campfires were arranged in an orderly and neat fashion, which pleased me. I couldn’t help but notice the fine state of the gear, in marked contrast to the ratty coverings and mean conditions much of my army had grown accustomed to. The commander’s tent, a large multi-unit affair, dwarfed my own accommodations. I made a note to appropriate it when the forces were merged.

One of the two sworn men from my bodyguard that I’d brought with me announced my presence while the rest of the party handed the horses to be watched by a soldier nearby. I had also asked Gherahdi, the Ligurian captain in charge of my Ligurian and Maure mercenaries and Clearchus of Elis, captain of my Greek mercenaries to accompany me to council. Outside of Kanu, the Maure from Sala I’d left in charge of Ippone’s garrison, Gherahdi was my most important commander. Clearchus had some tactical skill, but he was present largely to maintain the fiction among his men that he had considerable influence over me.

We were escorted into the spacious tent, where I found two other men standing to greet me, with other, presumably less important officers, still seated, waiting to be introduced.

Pintamos began the introductions. “General Tarkun. Congratulations on your prompt arrival this morning, the credit for the victory is all yours.”

“Not at all.” I clasped Pintamos on the shoulder warmly, looking to start a professional relationship off on the right foot.

“Allow me to introduce General Sanion, who commanded our wing of horse today.” Surprise passed across my face. I knew that name. An Utrana boy. It took me a moment to figure out how I knew that. The memory seemed to be from before the Army of Mauretania marched east out of Siga, which made it nearly ancient history to me. Soon after declaring independence, on the recommendation of the Matriarch of the Utrana, Stenu had asked a few of his more discreet men to go to Lixus and discover just what exactly had happened in the city and whether or not Atlantic Maure would really back his declaration. Sanion, only fifteen, had lead a band of youths in attacking the Lusotann governor and his delegation in Lixus. Now here he was in the flesh, a young man with the title of general. He looked tired, and still wore his armor, much as I did, although his was stained with blood. Recently back from pursuit of the enemy, then, and not reluctant to get involved personally.

“General Tarkun, an honor,” Sanion stepped forward and greeted me by taking me by the shoulder as well. I noticed the captains in the other army watching closely for a reaction from either of us. Much more intensely than they had observed me greeting Pintamos.

“General Pintamos, General Sanion, allow me to introduce Captains Gherahdi and Clearchus. Gherahdi commanded my center today, Clearchus my right wing.” The unfamiliar Maure officers were also introduced, and there were greetings all around before we settled down to business. I did all the talking for the Army of Mauretania, although I occasionally conferred with Captain Gherahdi in Greek when necessary.

We agreed quickly to spend the next two days ensuring the Carthaginian rabble disintegrated, mapping out areas for each army to cover to ensure the enemy was unable to concentrate any men. I suggested an announcement in all the local towns declaring two weeks of safe passage and free provisions for any Phoenician or Lybian traveling unarmed, no matter what his business. It would encourage broken men who wished to try and reach home to desert from any Carthaginian officers who still lived. The other officers agreed that was a splendid idea.

Once we were sure the other army had completely disintegrated, we would combine our camps and drill the army for two days to get the officers used to working with each other and march south. Ippone would continue to be held by my veterans, who would look after the city. My elite foot guard would be posted under Louk, giving him the necessary authority to administer the civilian population. By acting as his family’s bodyguards against the citizens of Ippone, my men would effectively hold Louk and his family hostage at the same time.

Sanion then suggested that the army march east, to assault and retake Atiqa. It took me some time to convince the others this plan was foolish. We might take the city, but for no worthwhile purpose. We had already sacked Atiqa, and to hold the city would run a high risk of being bottled up within its walls with no hope of reinforcement from distant Mauretania if Carthage fielded a superior force.

Numidia made more sense. Marching south didn’t appear as bold; it wasn’t as symbolic a blow as one directed at Phoenician Africa. But, I argued, Numidia was more important to the war. Control of south Numidia would allow Carthage only two routes west: by sea or through the desert proper, with the risk of uncertain water supplies.

Pintamos supported a push south, informing me that rumor had it Carthage had recently won a costly victory over a Syracusan fleet. They captured or sunk virtually the entire fleet of their enemy, but in doing so they pursued too close to the coast where tides and an unexpected wind had beached half the Carthaginian fleet, which had to be burned lest it be captured by Syracusan land forces. Sending the remainder of their fleet too far west would leave their trade vulnerable to pirates, and possibly even Corsica and Sardina could be threatened by the Romans, who had their own small but visible squadron of galleys often engaged in attacks on suspected pirate bases.

If we controlled Numidia, we would have room to maneuver if Carthage sent a massive army at us, the ability to delay for reinforcements or possibly out-march our enemies and a reliable fortress in Ippone. Once we subdued Numidia, if Carthage and Mauretania started to launch raids instead of armies back and forth they would find their homelands devastated while on our side only a subjugated people would be vulnerable. And as the great Maure families slowly took control of the best lands in Numidia, the smaller Libyan peoples or the Garamantines might take notice and decide supporting Carthage as loyally as Numidia had wasn’t worth the effort. I knew negotiations with Gheradi and Clearchus would follow. I could probably buy them off with silver or estates near Ippone and trust their influence with the men could outweigh Numidia’s lack of easily moveable plunder.

I tired considerably as the night went on, relieved when everything important seemed settled. Until Pintamos roused me out of my torpor. “It is good, then, that we can all agree as friends on pressing south. It is better to support a strategy with enthusiasm than proceed with misgivings. But despite our agreement, armies must have their structure. How shall we decide which of us will assume command of the combined army?”

“What?” The question seemed nonsensical. I’d heard of Pintamos before the Carthaginian siege of Ippone had cut off communications, as second-in-command to lowly Melman, of no notable family or influence. Sanion had been a child only a few years past. To my ears that idea didn’t even have the ring of credibility.

“It seems to me,” Pintamos continued as I noted the lack of surprise on the faces of the other officers, “that since we have no direct order regarding who shall lead the combined army, we must come to some solution favorable to the men and to the gods. An election seems best. An election among the Maure, of course.” Pintamos nodded apologetically at Gheradi and Clearchus.

“That’s preposterous.” An election would be a sham, given the make-up of the armies. I’d have no chance of winning. “No direct order is necessary. I am the most experienced officer. I command the Army of Mauretania. You have been sent as reinforcements. For me. I will continue in command.” I emphasized ‘continue.’

The discussion paused for a few moments. I could see the Maure captains were not surprised at my statement, but neither did they voice support. Pintamos let the pause speak volumes, then spoke again. “For myself, I do not think myself suitable to command the combined army.” I noted subtle signs of agreement and relief among the Maure captains. “But there are others here I think are worthy.”

Pintamos carefully asked the opinion of the other officers, choreographing their agreement with him. I fell silent, quietly displaying my frustration and anger. If the second army supported this insane move of Pintamos’, it would be a problem. Few things are more debilitating to the discipline of an army than watching officers lose respect for rank and decorum and squabble with each other. I needed time to retreat and regroup.

After Sanion’s turn to speak, he spouted some nonsense about the gravity of his family and the tough times that needed people born to leadership, suggesting he would bring victory to Mauretania. I stood to leave. “If you plan to hold some sort of… elections,” I carefully avoided agreeing explicitly to the idea. “You must wait for two days, at least until the third morning hence. This stunt must not get in the way of completing our victory.”

Pintamos smiled, accepting the delay. “Of course, I was about to suggest the same thing.”

I stalked out of the tent without farewells. I was too tired to waste any more time on pleasantries. I explained the nuances of the discussion to Gheradi and Clearchus in Greek on the ride back to my camp.

“I do not wish to put myself or my men under the command of this boy. But if your people insist it is to be so…” Gheradi shrugged uncomfortably.

It took me awhile to consider my options. Although politics had occupied much of my time in Ippone, the politics of making people agree with you are different from convincing them to follow your orders and not try to kill you.

“I think,” I began slowly, “that you are not looking at the potential benefits of this situation, my dear friend.”

***

For two days, the Army of Mauretania and the reinforcing army observed the Carthaginian remnants disintegrate entirely. Midway through the second day, a Greek soldier signaled that the mercenaries’ offer had been rejected as he went to comb the army’s small herds for the best-looking animals.

Gheradi and Clearchus should have met with Pintamos, Sanion, and whatever officers they brought to council the previous night. I’d instructed the mercenary captains to gather their best officers and the meanest, most gruesome-looking of their men and make their way secretly to the other camp under darkness. They demanded as much money as I’d paid them to join the Army of Mauretania itself, an amount I was fairly certain Pintamos didn’t have on hand, to switch loyalties. Upon refusal, I’d asked them to make a scene. Crying about how hard it was to be loyal to such misers, declaring the intolerable conditions would make it impossible for them to keep support of their men, and other such tactics it had taken me some time to become immune to. Eventually, they should have accepted the rejection but looked very unhappy about it.

For my part, I avoided agitating against the idea of electing a leader and instead sent the Maure in my cavalry who were born into better families over to socialize with the lower-ranked officers and the men in the reinforcing army. In this way I learned that this insanity had begun well before the two armies had met. I learned that Sanion in fact held no official rank at all, and yet very nearly eclipsed Pintamos as a leader already. Many of the officers hated Pintamos. Either for complicity in putting Sanion above them, or for incompetence in letting the young Utrana run roughshod over the military hierarchy. But only a few indicated they were willing to pledge their support for me if I asked it of them.

The mercenaries abandoned my camp in the middle of the night, amid much shouting and feigned protest from my cavalry and relocated on a slight hill a few miles to the north. After waking, I was pleased to note that three Greek priests as well as the seers and diviners had remained, as per my orders.

These last remaining mercenaries and picked members of my guard started for the reinforcing army’s camp before dawn, sacrificial victims in tow. The three priests spread out went to different sections of the reinforcing army’s camp and began their work, beseeching their foreign gods and preparing the animals. As the sun rose above the horizon I stood back placidly, watching the priest just outside the command tent. A couple of officers went off and I waited for either Sanion or Pintamos. They both arrived just as a fine white goat was disemboweled. The seers and diviners sifted through the intestines, fingering knobules of flesh and finding something in the goat’s stomach. Their gibbering increased in volume. I think they were begging forgiveness of their foreign gods. The picked members of my bodyguard translated for the priests, looking somewhat worried or frustrated. They weren’t very good actors. But then, they didn’t need to be. A few of the seers were Maure, and corroborated the declarations of the foreign priests and diviners.

“Why are there goat intestines laying on the ground in front of my tent?” Sanion did not look pleased.

“It’s a curious foreign ritual.” I took a bite out of a pear. “The Greek mercenaries in particular are quite fond of it. They believe the gods will look more favorably on any important enterprise when an animal has been sacrificed to them. Not just on temple occasions, as we do. They seem to sacrifice at the drop of a hat.” I shrugged. “No harm in it, they almost always bring back favorable omens.”

“Almost always.” Pintamos pursed his lips.

Sanion shot me a disgusted look, as if he was angry with me for wasting his time. “I’m going to get rid of this foolishness.”

I nodded at the command tent and addressed Pintamos. “A private word?” We entered the tent and he evicted one of the captains figuring out where drill maneuvers would take place this afternoon. “We have a major problem. The mercenaries have left my camp. I was an idiot, telling them it was inevitable I’d lose the election. I’ve asked around your camp. No one is going to vote against a clan-member of Lina Utrana Sagun. The mercenaries may consider their contract over. Which wouldn’t be a disaster.” Just the loss of several thousand men. “Except I don’t trust them to not sack Ippone unless we’re careful. If they steal a march on us the city could become effectively worthless.”

Pintamos glared at me. “Could you have really let things get that bad?”

I spread my hands in a gesture of helplessness. “We might be able to buy their allegiance to a new commander with enough gold. Their contracts are very personal to them.”

Pintamos considered. “Do you think you could bring them back?”

“If I moved fast enough. If I assured them the terms of their service would not change.” By which I meant, if I told them I had command of the army.

“The honor of Utrana will have to be satisfied.”

I shrugged. “Sanion can declare he isn’t a candidate to lead the army. He must assume the governorship of Numidia.” I’d thought hard about that compromise last night. I didn’t want to let trained cavalry out of my grasp. But neither did I need a captain who had proven willing to challenge the chain of command.

Pintamos waited. I made him say the words, to implicitly acknowledge the whole farce was an irregular play for power. “And me?”

“I always need good officers. If they prove they are willing to follow orders. To be honest, there are no Maure currently serving under me that I trust are capable should I fall in battle.”

Sanion yelled something at one of the priests outside. Pintamos grinned, apparently not put out with the compromise. “We’ll have to discuss the finer details in a more private setting. You will have command.”

Pintamos led the way out of the tent and cleared his throat, preparing to address the nearby soldiers as loudly as he could. “The omens are unfavorable. No election can be held today.”

[gamegeek2]

Excellent, as always.

[MisterFred]

Ghaust, Gamegeek, Marcus, Morte, and everyone,

Thanks for the kind comments!

[MisterFred]

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania2/Title4.jpg
by Tarkun of Siga

[Ch. 19]

Sanion and Pintamos both proved easy to work with once I was fully in control of the army, which was a shock and a surprise. It made me suspicious about the motives behind their attempt at the sham election, and the more shameful episodes of insubordination and punishment that the reinforcing army had suffered on its way from Siga. For the present, Sanion commanded no more than his painted bodyguards and several hundred Utrana-paid cavalry and he seemed content with that. Pintamos immediately became invaluable, solving numerous supply problems with the resources provided by the reinforcing army and his own skill in organizing foraging and distribution.

Appeasing Gheradi and Clearchus proved surprisingly easy; placating them required legal title only to a few estates near Ippone and a promise that the mercenaries would have first pick of the loot obtained by the army over the next few months. This compensated them for the fake desertion and for keeping their men in line as we marched forward. First pick of the loot might not be all that substantial, as the Army of Mauretania marched south, back to the poor and broken land of Numidia.

According to Pintamos, captured Numidians spoke of a second Carthaginian army marching west through the south of their land. This possibility worried me greatly. If the Carthaginians expected my forces to still be bottled up in Ippone, a second army in the south sounded like one on its way to invade Mauretania, taking the route along the edge of the desert in the same fashion as Hamalcar.

The importance of the march south into Numidia was dramatically underlined by this threat, as control of the country could cut an invading army’s supply lines and draw it back to defend the few tribes in the south of Numidia still prospering.

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Northern Numidia is undefended and vulnerable.

Confident no force could oppose my army in the north of Numidia, I ordered the army to march in several distinct, wide columns. We passed though the valleys and hills of Numidia wielding fire and sword. We cut a wide swath through the countryside, burning and killing everyone and everything, excepting only a few villages that greeted us with abject surrender and provisions without our needing to ask.

I had no idea if the Numidians were capable of assembling another sizeable army, but I wanted to eliminate that possibility and draw any Carthaginians in the south away from invasion and toward the defense of their subjects.

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Not just Kirtan, but everything in the province along the path of the Army of Mauretania.

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No buildings were spared.

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The second Carthaginian army moves to protect southern Numidia.

I destroyed Kirtan, its few remaining inhabitants slaughtered. Leaving the ruins of the town, we began to construct a new outpost nearby, a center from which Sanion could gradually extend Maure control over the land, hopefully settling eastern Maure from around Siga, and possibly somehow identifying Numidians willing to subject themselves to our rule.

The army stayed in the area for a few months, as Sanion began his work and Pintamos ensured our communications with Ippone and supply routes were safe. I reviewed the news from abroad and considered larger questions of strategy, making up for the long period of isolation during the siege.

Pintamos had delivered a letter to me shortly after I squashed his attempt to remove me from command, looking completely unashamed as he handed the missive to me. It was addressed “to dear Tarkun, Commander of the Eastern Armies,” from Lina Utrana Sagun. I knew of her through her correspondence with Stenu, although I had no inkling of her true importance until the attempt to remove me from command

To my surprise, she wrote of alliance and friendship, speaking of the support she hoped to provide “our glorious armies of independence.” She also appeared most knowledgeable about internal politics, speaking at length about Ti Sagun’s success in molding Atlantic Maure into a unified force. Lina also gave me a summary of Mauretanian finances, which was something of a relief. The government coffers were light, but not empty.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania-Slaves/28-FinancialsAgain.jpg

Finally, Lina informed me that an officer close to Ti, one Melman, would take over as governor of Siga. She was blunt in her evaluation of Melman, more so than I would have expected given the close ties she says existed between Melman and her husband. Lina suggested that if I knew some eastern Maure notables suitable to “aid Melman with his difficulties” she could ensure they had influence, and further hinted an alliance between my own clan and the Utrana could be most profitable east of the Atlas Mountains.

Now that was an intriguing idea. My own clan, the Canta, were influential among the eastern Maure, but more so because of their numbers than their wealth. An alliance with the most prominent family in Mauretania would be highly desirable, if we could maintain equal status east of the Atlas. I would have to write the relatives whose judgment I trusted best and have them co-ordinate with Lina directly.

Diplomatic declarations and trader’s gossip brought other news from the across the sea. The political situation in the western Mediterranean had been unstable but also essentially unchanged for some years. That was no longer the case. Trying to judge everything that happened over the last year, the catalyst for the realignments seemed to be Rome’s continued expansion west, and the tremendous resources it was pouring into expanding its influence into Gaul.

The very threat of Rome had been stealing influence from the Lusotann and giving it instead to the hawkish armies and chieftains of northern Iberia, who had successfully moved the capitol to the fortress of Palantia. The conquered Phoenician cities and southern members of the confederation had to continue paying taxes to the ‘Lusotann’ confederation, but were left to their own defenses as the confederation as a whole oriented its entire defense policy to preparing for or preventing further Roman expansion from Numantia.

With the Romans seemingly content with their footholds in Iberia at Numantia and Emporion, and the transfer of most of their armies to press the Aedui to the north, the Edetani had raided central Iberia around Baikor, testing the Lusotann confederation’s defenses and the Roman response to a smaller garrison in the Edetani-allied Greek city of Arsea. This year, the crack in the delicate Iberian political framework widened into outright war, as a large Edetani army looked to force the tribes around Baikor to quit the Lusotann confederation and swear allegiance to the Edetani.

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[I’m pretty sure there’s another half-stack of Lusotann troops hiding in the trees near Velika as well. Palantia really is the new capitol for the Casse-turned-Lusotann. Not sure how that happened.]

The Romans forced the second major change in the Western Mediterranean. After years of hard campaigning, a general from the Cotta family finally amassed the largest army Rome had ever assembled, half of which were Celtic levies from the lands taken from the Arverni and unaligned tribes. This army finally completed the devastating Roman push to Gergovia, the first major victory Rome had won against the Aedui since Mediolanum, on the other side of the Alps.

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[The devastation in the screenshot is well-earned.]

The most worrisome rumor came from Bocchoris. The Greeks from Arsea who had taken over from the Carthaginians there spoke excitedly about potential new trade opening up in Sicily, as Carthage negotiated with Syracuse to achieve an acceptable peace. I could only hope the negotiations failed.

Despite the changes, my own core mission remained largely unchanged. I would hold Ippone and Numidia to protect Mauretania from invasion by land, and look to raid east if Carthage showed weakness. I wrote to Ti Sagun and Lina Sagun separately, laying out the military situation here. In my letter to Lina I tried to clarify the forces present and explain the decisions involved. She seemed to have been struck by Stenu’s description of Carthage’s city defenses from when he wrote her from Atiqa.

***

Sanion had developed a fondness for maps, and had a particularly fine one of the present situation between Mauretania and Carthage made up. He showed it to me when Pintamos returned from a trip to Ippone, warning that Carthage was starting to raid along the coast with light troops. Pintamos and I complimented the quality of the map, while Sanion tried to read significance into it.

“So you see Mauretania is colored in brown, and Carthage in white. They can only approach our homelands via sea or the desert, since we stand in their way along the roads. And I hear the Gaetulians are unhappy with Carthage’s stranglehold on Tuat, which makes the desert approach too risky. I was thinking we should raid around Adrumento to isolate Carthage from her southern holdings at Lepki and Garama.”

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania-Slaves/34-BetterMinimapUpdate.jpg

“The problem, Sanion, is that your mapmaker has colored the whole of Numidia brown, while in truth we control only the northwest of the country, here.” I circled a small area with my finger. “Eastern Numidia is controlled by no one, the south by the Carthaginians.” Sanion looked disappointed. The war seemed easy enough when one assumed lines drawn on paper meant something on the ground.

Still, the map might have its uses. “It is time the army moved south, to see if there truly is a Carthaginian army waiting for us there. I hope the two of you will help me finish the final preparations we have to make here.”

Pintamos nodded, deep in thought. “We will have to ensure that Ippone is secure.”

“Yes. Although I want to take as many men as possible south. How many men do you think will be necessary to deal with these raids?”

Pintamos shook his head. “The raids aren’t the problem. I’m a little worried that Carthage might be using them as cover to assemble men in the area while waiting for us to be distracted. So the answer is too many men.”

I frowned. “You don’t think it is safe to move south?”

“Not if we want to be sure of Ippone.”

“What if we allowed Louk to raise a militia and some horse from rural folk he trusts?” The Phoenician had asked this of me several times, claiming he wanted to ensure his city’s defense.

Pintamos frowned. “That seems too risky. What is to prevent him from inviting the Carthaginians across the river and stealing back the city?”

I’d worried about that myself, and always turned Louk down for that reason. But I did not want to be paralyzed by the problem, and leave the southern road to the Carthaginians. “History, perhaps. Carthage has twice let the city fall, and Louk knows what we will do to the Phoenician population if they promise us their allegiance and then forsake us. He is resourceful; he might actually be able to find men among the Libyans who live around the city that dislike the Numidians and appreciate us for reducing them. They could prove loyal men.”

Pintamos looked dubious. “Perhaps.”

“How many men should we send if we assume Louk can raise a few thousand loyal Phoenicians and Libyans?”

Pintamos still didn’t like the idea, but he answered me honestly. “The light troops from the allied tribes and a few professionals to stiffen them. The Balearics, perhaps, Captain Menzukenos knows how to skirmish effectively.”

I considered, happy that Pintamos had taken the time to learn the strengths and weaknesses of the mercenary captains. “I will send word to Louk. You will see that Menzukenos and the others are prepared to march north.”

“I still don’t think entrusting Ippone to its Phoenician citizens is a good idea.”

“I’ll sleep on it, but we’ll assume that’s the plan for now.” A part of me worried about the risk inherent in the plan, but it was better to see if one could trust Louk now. An Ippone that actively supported the war effort could be a valuable resource. And, like the Carthaginians, I was forced to admit to myself a stiff defense of the city came second to more important strategic concerns.

“In the meantime, Sanion and his map-maker can finish their job so that all my concerns are settled before the army moves south.”

“Finish it?” Sanion looked at the map in confusion, wondering what had been left undone.

I pointed at the area of Numidia we controlled. “Administering these lands will be difficult. Villages must be convinced to sow crops, herdsmen must know who owns the pasture lands.

“Now we’ll need to bring in good people to ensure the land is productive as soon as possible. I should think, hmm, the Canta clan can be given the most western lands, those most easily pacified. They have people relatively close, who can take control easily.”

Sanion looked at me with distaste, probably having assumed that giving him the meaningless title of governor meant I was going to leave these matters to him.

Pintamos, though, knew how to compromise. “Certainly, certainly. Maybe a fourth of the area we can count on now.” I smiled, that was more than I’d expected. Pintamos continued, “of course, we can’t leave the Altantic notables out of it altogether. The most organized of their clans, like the Utrana, can have another fourth. Perhaps here, close to the ruins of Kirtan.”

“With the largest portion allotted for assignment by Mauretania as a whole,” I added piously, meaning Ti Sagun and the lesser nobles he needed to keep happy to ensure the unity of Mauretania.

“Oh, certainly,” Pintamos agreed. Sanion eyed the two of us, wondering how he’d been left out of the decision. He trusted to the direction of Pintamos too much. But then, Pintamos always looked after Utrana interests, so it was likely it would appear Sanion had ensured the profits of his clan.

***

The Army of Mauretania, as I thought of it, marched south, into Numidian lands we had not seen before. Pintamos and the new Maure that made up the majority of my men simply thought of it as the Eastern Army, or still the Second Army. The Army of Mauretania and the great hero Stenu were inseparable in their eyes, which frustrated me.

Prisoners and scouts confirmed the presence of a significant Carthaginian force in south Numidia. The Army of Mauretania marched more quickly than it had on its way to Kirtan, burning only those villages which refused to submit to us. The wiser Numidians kept themselves and their herds well out of our sight.

We soon learned the enemy commander was named Aegicoros of Kyrene, and it seemed he had a knack for self-promotion. He was supposed to be seven feet tall, was the greatest of all the scholars when he studied in some library owned by the Ptolemys, and sounded like he paid men to spread rumors he was a great tactician. Peace continued between Carthage and the Ptolemys, so I couldn’t imagine where Aegicoros could have obtained this great tactical experience, unless he’d served as a mercenary in the past. His legend said he wasn’t doing so now, proclaiming himself a patriot and a supporter of Carthage’s occupation of Kyrene. He’d even adopted the name Hadrumentum, apparently developing a love for that city after helping it recover from the sack.

I halted the Army of Mauretania near a large lake on the far side of the easiest pass connecting southern Numidia to the rest of the country. I waited there, unwilling to proceed further into open territory where we could be outmaneuvered, and confident a man so eager for fame could not turn down a chance to seek victory.

Scouts soon brought back reports of his approaching army, suggesting Aegicoros’ army roughly equaled us in numbers, the Army of Mauretania numbering nearly 30,000 men. I gathered as much information as I could and, when Aegicoros neared our camp, arrayed my army for battle on the shores of the great lake.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania-Slaves/38-DeclineBattle.jpg

The army of Mauretania contained 5500 Ligurian and Greek mercenaries and 2000 horse under my direct command. The rest of the men were uniformly stout Maure infantry, well-armed with sword and javelin, but most were from the reinforcing army, with a brittle confidence. They had yet to see strong opposition, let alone defeat, and I worried that their dismissal of the enemy could turn quickly to dismay if part of the army encountered unexpected difficulty.

As Aegicoros approached, preparing to offer battle, I saw the scouts’ reports come alive. Three thousand of the best Greeks of Kyrene marched with him, fighting in a fashion similar to the mixed-blood professional infantry Carthage sometimes hired. A similar number of Libyans, with a lighter shield but a few javelins, also marched in a well-ordered formation. Carthage had provided Aegicoros with roughly four thousand elite infantry, organized according to heritage, some Liby-Phoencian, some of pure Phoenician descent. I frowned. The new Maure had yet to see such heavily-armored opponents in battle, and I feared how they would perform against them.

Half of Aegicoros’ men were far less impressive. Fourteen thousand light infantry of little consequence, mostly ‘Greeks,’ who were really Libyans from around Kyrene, but also conscripted rabble from around Adrumentum, made up a slight majority of the enemy’s main line. Three thousand heavy horse ensured the usual advantage the Carthaginians preferred in mounted troops. The Ligurians had been placed in reserve to support my own horse against the enemy cavalry threat.

But strangest of all were several large mechanical contraptions, which had been somehow made mobile, slowly being moved into position while the rest of Aegicoros’ army waited. The scouts had told me that the enemy general carried with him siege weaponry, but I had no idea they could be used in an open-field battle.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania-Slaves/40-AegicorosTheWeird.jpg

The unknown variable worried me. I’d seen something similar only once. When I was a boy a Greek sea captain had shown me a machine on his huge trading ship, bragging that it could shoot javelins farther than any man could throw one, and made pirates run from him. I took one look at the leather and rope bits showing the inevitable rot caused by the sea air and assumed he’d be had. But if Aegicoros had real confidence in these things, there may be a real reason for that.

His army stopped well out of skirmishing range, and the men surrounding the strange contraptions moved about quickly, apparently preparing something. Before they could finish preparing, I turned to my flag and trumpet men and gave my orders. The Army of Mauretania retreated back to camp.

Unwilling to give battle and not wanting to give Aegicoros the opportunity to cut our supply lines, I ordered the Army of Mauretania to retreat north, taking a path somewhat west of the main road to Kirtan. I thought to hold to the hills and block the Greek general’s supply lines myself should he attempt to move west or north.

The Numidians had other ideas. Two days after we began our slow march north through the eastern hills, nomadic tribesmen began ambushing my scouts unless they moved in force. When they proved too elusive to catch, I ordered the Army of Mauretania back to the open valleys. But for over a week the Army of Mauretania slowed to a crawl, essentially blind.

I marched rapidly for Sanion’s camp when we returned to open ground, hoping for news about Aegicoros’ movements and knowing it was the only location in all Numidia I truly cared if Aegicoros assaulted.

News I got, but it was bad. The Numidian tribesmen had isolated Sanion’s camp, including his Utrana horse and two thousand Maure mercenaries posted to help his efforts at pacifying the countryside. They blinded his scouts in much the same way they had blinded mine. Aegicoros had ignored my maneuvers and advanced swiftly on Sanion, destroying his force to a man and re-occupying the ruins of Kirtan in order to present himself as the liberator of Numidia.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania-Slaves/39-Dumbass.jpg
I had hoped to gather Sanion’s men as reinforcements. I was shocked to find Aegicoros could march fast enough to trap Sanion.

The only good news came from far to the north. Louk had stayed loyal, and a small force of about five thousand Carthaginian light troops advancing on Ippone had been defeated.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania-Slaves/36-RaidersBeatenBack.jpg

My men caught a few heralds proclaiming the liberation of Numidia, and calling all loyal tribesmen to rally to Aegicoros’ banner. I didn’t think he’d get many recruits, not after Bomilcar had raised the Numidians and then left them to fight alone. But it did mean Aegicoros would remain in Kirtan, possibly long enough to catch him.

The army of Numidia marched north of Kirtan, passing east of it, before swinging left to meet with several thousand new recruits arriving from Siga and the veteran Balearics, fresh from their victory outside Ippone. We turned south once more and marched on Kirtan, where Aegicoros waited confidently, assuming we would not approach a force so large that held the high ground.

Aegicoros was wrong. Kirtan was a perfect battleground to face his force. His cavalry and strange devices would have trouble with the rough ground and the cluttered streets of the ruins. His elite infantry might be feared there, but my men would try to avoid his well-armored elites and engage his mass of unreliable men. His army remained the same, but mine had grown.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania-Slaves/42-ReinforcedArmyMauretania.jpg

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania-Slaves/41-AegicorosAssault.jpg

The first day after camping within sight of Kirtan, I arrayed my forces in formation in the valley below the ruins, offering battle on flat ground. I was pleased when Aegicoros did not accept. My men returned to camp early, with orders to rest and eat a very late supper.

Late in the night, aided by a full moon, the Army of Mauretania advanced in three divisions up the hill. Even if we were noticed and Aegicoros decided to attack at night, I knew his strange weapons would never be able to strike us. If we were noticed, he held back. At dawn, the three divisions neared Kirtan and the assault began.

I did not attempt to coordinate my army as one force. I gave Pintamos command of half the Maure infantry, Gheradi command of all the mercenaries, and I led the other half of the Maure myself. If Aegicoros advanced in force against any one of us, we were to fall back upon one of the other divisions.

Aegicoros instead arrayed his men in the outskirts of the ruins, hoping to get some use out of his siege engines, and sent most of his men to stop our advance. A massive, machine-thrown javelin scored the first kills against my division, impaling two men through their shields before stopping. I kept to my plan, ordering the men to ignore the attacks of the contraptions. I hoped they would be too few to cause many casualties, but I could see them frighten the men.

The Carthaginian cavalry charged, hoping to take advantage of the open space between the slope and the town. My men seemed almost to relax. Many of them had fought under Pintamos outside of Sala, and they knew such a charge could turn on the horse if the infantry under attack held formation.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania-Slaves/44-CavalryCharge.jpg
The central division under Tarkun.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania-Slaves/43-KirtanFirstBlood.jpg
Results of artillery fire: minor damage.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania-Slaves/45-TarkunDivision.jpg
Pantodapoi from Kyrene keep the infantry from encircling the Carthaginian heavy cavalry.

Aegicoros attempted the same tactics against the division under Pintamos, attempting to buy time for his stone-throwers to attack Pintamos’ men with an attack by his least valuable men. Pintamos reported that the stone-throwers generally missed completely, huge rocks sailing over his formation with some regularity, but that one boulder killed six men in a single lucky hit. In the meantime, Maure javelins proved far more deadly.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania-Slaves/46-PintamosDivision.jpg
Pantodapoi attempt to delay Pintamos.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania-Slaves/47-PantodapoiDisaster.jpg
They fail.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania-Slaves/48-GiantRockMissing.jpg
“Was that a big, giant rock?” “Yes, yes it was.”

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania-Slaves/54-NearMiss.jpg
A near miss as Pintamos’ division makes its way to the ruined streets of Kirtan.

Aegicoros committed most of his best troops against Gheradi and the mercenaries. A curious double battle developed when Gheradi moved to block the assault with the Ligurians and Greeks, while ordering the mercenary Maure to circle behind the enemy and pelt them with javelins. The Balearics attacked targets of opportunity and harassed the arrow-thrower crews.

The best of Aegicoros’ Kyrenians separated from the enemy formation to engage the Maure, while the Phoenician Sacred Band hit the Ligurians, supported by the raw levies from Adrumento.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania-Slaves/49-GheradiDivision.jpg
Aegicoros’ Kyrenians prevent the Maure from throwing javelins.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania-Slaves/50-SacredBandCloseUp.jpg
Mercenaries hold off the feared Phoenician infantry.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania-Slaves/51-ClassicalsCloseUp.jpg
The men of Kyrene find they have only a slight advantage over the Maure mercenaries.

Cautious, I waited for the far right unit of my division to suppress the enemy arrow-throwers before urging my cavalry up onto the plateau and driving off the main body of enemy cavalry. I ordered the officers in my division to advance the infantry into the ruins of Kirtan. Seeing Pintamos’ division already entering the broken streets, I galloped with the full force of the Army of Mauretania’s cavalry to the support of Gheradi.

Assuming the Greek hoplites would break more easily than the Sacred Band, I ordered the men to form up for a charge into the back of the Kyrenians’ formation. They proved surprisingly stout of heart, but were eventually broken.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania-Slaves/53-ArtilleryTeamSlaughter.jpg
Because they are only effective outside the ruins, Aegicoros is unable to adequately protect his artillery.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania-Slaves/52-TarkunDrivesAwayHorse.jpg
Tarkun and the Maure horse make their presence felt.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania-Slaves/57-TheCharge.jpg

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania-Slaves/58-NotBreaking.jpg
The Kyrenians shrug off the first charge by Tarkun and his men.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania-Slaves/59-SecondChargeTakesThem.jpg
But after reforming, a second unopposed charge by the Maure horse breaks them.

Knowing the valor of men who would swear the oaths required of the Sacred Band, I let the few Greeks who didn’t surrender run and ordered the mercenaries and my own men to unleash javelins against the Phoenician elite. Both units still held their full complement of missiles, and used them all. Finally, I ordered the advance.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania-Slaves/62-JavelinWave1.jpg

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania-Slaves/63-JavelinWave2.jpg

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania-Slaves/64-JavelinWave3.jpg

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania-Slaves/65-JavelinWave6.jpg
A gratuitous selection from the seven waves of javelins that thinned the enemy formation.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania-Slaves/66-OutOfJavelins.jpg
Although suffering casualties from the barrage, the Sacred Band continued to massacre the Ligurian and Greek mercenaries, thinning their lines to maintain their front.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania-Slaves/67-TheCharge.jpg
But find that even they are still vulnerable to a full charge from fresh cavalry. Which doesn’t stop them from fighting to the death.

Meanwhile, my division fought through the dust-choked streets of Kirtan, beating back Aegicoros’ reserve cavalry. Pressing forward until they linked up with Pintamos’ division, they surrounded the last remaining defenders. To my surprise, Pintamos managed to get many of Aegicoros’ best men, the mixed-blood elites, to surrender their arms.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania-Slaves/60-AegicorosAlleyway.jpg
The new Maure recruits experience their first tough battle.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania-Slaves/61-DesperateFighting.jpg
They perform well.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania-Slaves/68-Liby-Phoenicians.jpg
And their numbers are telling.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania-Slaves/69-LPCloseUp.jpg
This campaign has given me a new-found respect for the Liby-Phoenician elites.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania-Slaves/70-Surrounded.jpg
But with the city already lost, most of this batch surrenders.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania-Slaves/71-ClearVictory.jpg

The men who surrender are given their lives, but I take two fingers from their right hand to ensure they never raise weapons against us again. Further orders are given for the purpose of executing any Numidians suspected of aiding Aegicoros in surrounding and destroying Sanion and his few thousand men.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania-Slaves/72-NoMercy.jpg

After ensuring supplies and communications remained reliable, I settled the army in northern Numidia, in the fertile valley below the ruins of Kirtan. Secure for the moment against further Carthaginian assault, the Army of Mauretania spent the short winter there. I resumed Sanion’s work and attempted to reorganize the region.

https://i788.photobucket.com/albums/yy170/MisterFred/Mauretania-Slaves/77-Wintering230.jpg

[gamegeek2]

So much fight over a worthless scrap of desert...or so it seems...

Great work!

[Tanit]

Just caught up. Lovely stuff as always! I love the compelling way you include details of politics, governing, military organization, supply lines, etc... It gives the story a sense of living and breathing.