The Non-History of Mauretania: A Europa Barbarorum AAR

[MisterFred]

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.



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 For starting an AAR that features a Non-Factional force ie. Mauritania. Good luck with this AAR and I shall be watching....always

[MisterFred]

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.



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.



[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.


[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


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.


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.


[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]

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.]

[I apologize for having no other pictures of this battle save the aftermath. I don't have a screenshotting instinct yet, and I play my battles with the AI with no pausing, to partially counteract its stupidity with poor reflexes. This is especially taxing when using ranged-capable units (Maure Infantry will stand and fire as their single-click order, they don't auto-charge after one volley, which is nice) and in the sheer chaos of the rare battle like this, which is technically a siege and yet more an open-field battle.]

An excerpt from Thucydorus of Leontini's 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.



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.



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...


[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.]


[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.]


[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]

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.



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]

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.



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.






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.



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.



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.

[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]

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.


[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.



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.



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.



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.

[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]

[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.



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.


[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.



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.



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.





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.


[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.



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.



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.







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]

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.



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.




Ippone had reduced the ranks of the Army of Mauretania.



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.



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.



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.



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]

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.



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.



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.


[and trade rights, of course]

[gamegeek2]

[MisterFred]

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.



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.




[Half of the Carthaginian infantry is routed and run down or killed by javelins when Karbalos sallies.]




[Pursuing Numidians are drawn away from the rest of the army before Karbalos turns and dispatches them with his heavier cavalry.]




[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.]


[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]

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.



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.





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.



[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.




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.



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.



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.



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.



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.



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.



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.



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.



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.



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.





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.



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.



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.






[Heroic my ass. I lost a third of my men to a numerically inferior enemy.]


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.


[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.



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.


[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.






[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.



[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.

[gamegeek2]

[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]

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.



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.



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.





***

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.


[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?]


[Eseuiku and his loyalists]


[After running him out of town, the Garamantines immediately hunt Eseuiku down.]


[The Garamantine rebels. Or resistance. Patriots, even.]


[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.]


[But eventually my infantry routed after half the unit died and the rest had become exhausted. I still thought Eseuiku might manage to break the rebel’s last unit with a charge, but it was not to be.]



***

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.

[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.



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.


[Distract the dangerous unit, hit in the back with javelins.]


[Liby-Phoenician Infantry are about an even match for Maure.]


[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.


[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]

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