Chapter 18

The men were lined up, ready and eager for battle. So much training has been put into each man. Their first six months in the army they marched countless miles, and learned to obey every order with complete satisfactory. They fought mock battles with wicker shields and wooden swords twice the weight of their own gladius. They had so many bruises and cuts and trauma. All for this. To be the most disciplined warriors on this earth. And it didn't get easier. Appollios made sure of that. Every man had to train twice as long every day, and march twice the distance and obey the orders twice as fast. He wanted an extremely ready and obedient legion. He didn't want them to seek glory or fame. He wanted them to fight like a machine. To run smoothly like a well trained animal.

And that is what he has done. In the past year, after taking Arse, Appollios trained his men even more rigidly. He made them be tougher. He knew he would need the toughest men on earth. To be able to withstand anything. Even Rome itself. After getting the letter to return to Rome, Appollios immediatly set out to take mastia. There was no waiting. He would no longer take orders from Rome. He no longer took orders from anyone. He was Appollo. Divine. He could do whatever he wished. And that was why he was here.

He was on a clearing near mastia. 2 carthaginian armies approached him. But he had little to fear. He watched in silence as they neared him. One after the other. "Fools", he thought. He knew that in order to be able to do anything to his legions they would have to combine the forces. But they didn't. Apparently there was some sort of strife between the commanders. There would be slaughter today.

He arranged his men in 3 lines today. The first 2 lines were still quite green and they would be in the bulk of the battle today. The 3rd line stood at the ready, the veterans, were most likely going to stand their all day, unless they would be used for flanking maneuvers.


The enemy army was close. It was a strange looking army. Half of it was Elite warriors, enlisted and trained in africa, and the other half was rabble. Skirmishers, slingers, cheap locals. To lead untrained men into battle is to throw them away.

There was an order of silence for this battle. No men were allowed to speak except the officers, and that was only to give orders. He hoped that this would completely demoralize the enemy.

He watched the elite African axe men close in and charge.

The charge was loud, and the only thing you could hear was shields breaking, swords and axes swinging and the Punic tongue yelling. The Romans knew to brace themselves for the charge. They would loose some ground, but as long as they lived it didn't matter. After the lines clashed and much sword play has happened, the Punic warriors retreated a bit to rest. That was when Appollos gave the orders.



Each man took started beating his sword against his shield. All in unison. It was the drum of war. They started out slow, like a heart beat, slowly a crescendo was taking over them until they were drumming as fast and as loud as they could. The enemy went mad.



Apollos watched as then enemy became confused and the general ordered them to charge. Some charged while the others didn't. There was no real line infantry besides the Elites. They charged once more, but this time Appollios ordered half of his third line to maneuver to the flanks of the enemy. They moved fast, and soon while the lines were still entangled they had the elites completely surrounded. It was like a spear going through an enemies gut.


If you have ever watched an enemy die, it doesn't happen right away. When you put your spear into the enemy, they first look at surprise at you, as if you didn't stab them. Then you see the pain and anguish on their face, as they try to look brave. Some of them still manage to swing their weapon at you. But most quiver and fall on their knees, hoping you have mercy on them and they can die quicker. But it didn't happen like that here.

The Romans gave no mercy and cut down the fleeing cowards en mass. No one was spared. No man could avoid the roman way of battle.
Seeing that their elites are dead, along with their general, the skirmishers too fled.


Appollios ordered the relatively fresh 2nd line of troops to give chase. No one was spared. Not single soul of the carthaginian flesh lived that day. The send army, seeing how quickly their kin has been killed retreated back to the city of Mastia to await their fate.