Chariots 29

'It is only the dead who have seen the end of war.' - Plato

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Hulking war horses dragged wheeled boxes of death through the chaotic battlefield. On the chariot wheel axels, the Bactrians had hastily forged bladed spikes protruding a foot outward, so anywhere the chariot passed, men's torsos would be cleaved, and legs dismembered. Aboard the chariots, men wielded bows, spears, and javelins.

Dubbed the tanks of the ancient era, chariots were a tide-turning weapon of war.

The chariots were currently running amok the Persian lines, bulldozing through formations and disrupting any semblance of cohesion the men may have once had. Frustrated by the development, Artaxerxes shouted to Themistocles over the den of battle, "Where is our elite infantry? Get our main force up here immediately!"

Currently, all the Persians who had managed to get up the hilltop were light infantry who had been at the front of the column when marching. The column had stretched on for miles and the heavy infantry naturally trailed further behind.

"As you wish my King!" Hearing his Kings order, Themistocles galloped away from the front and down the hillside to rally more elite units up the hill and into the front. "Royal guard! With me!" Artaxerxes shouted with his saber raised in the air.

Hearing the King of King's orders, the 2,000 Immortal cavalries rallied to their king, disengaging from any engagements they were in previously. "Our objective is to eliminate the chariots that our infantry is powerless against! Aim for the horses and the entire vehicle collapses, leaving the stranded charioteers to the infantry! Let's move!"

Straining his voice to be heard over the cacophony of battle, Artxerxes laid out his commands and quickly set out to target any chariots he saw running amok with his infantry. Tightening his hold on his horse and kicking its sides with his feet, Artaxerxes shot forward into the fray of battle.

Saber in hand, Artaxerxes flew by a chariot that was trampling a dozen or so men who could do nothing but be impaled by the charioteer's javelin or dismembered by the axel's spiked blade. Not bothering with the men aboard the chariot, Artaxerxes deftly maneuvered himself between the thrusting spears and decapitated the frothing horse.

"Aghgh!"

Screaming as the chariot capsized and getting catapulted from the safety of the chariot, the charioteers crushed violently into the hard and craggy earth of the Aerian highlands.

As Artaxerxes rode onto his next target, he glanced back at the fate that befell the charioteers. A group of Persian spearmen dashed to the wounded men and with a vengeful fury, brutally stabbed the charioteers as they screamed for mercy.

Chuckling mirthlessly at the sight, Artaxerxes scanned the battlefield. On the hilltop, Bactrian chariots and Persian light infantry with the aid of the Immortals clashed. Below the hill on the Bactrian side, Artaxerxes noticed the Bactrians were sending up an elite detachment of infantry, only able to catch a glimpse in the chaos of battle, Artaxerxes was unsure of its size. As for his own reinforcements, Artaxerxes couldn't catch a view as to what was going on among his main force, hopefully, men were also being sent up to reinforce.

Finding another chariot, Artaxerxes kicked his horse into motion and galloped at breakneck speeds, saber in hand. Artaxerxes wore his signature armor, emblazoned with the Shahbaz eagle and a golden cape flowing into the wind.

Unlike the previous charioteers who had been distracted on a killing spree, this chariot was in the open and without an opponent. Quickly taking notice of Artaxerxes and his showy armor, the lead charioteer whipped the horses into motion and counter-charged the galloping King.

As the two forces of motion propelled toward one another, two of the three charioteers made a grab for their trusty javelins, while the third continued to whip the horses into a frenzy.

Adjusting their body postures into a throwing motion, the duo aimed at they're quickly approaching target.

Artaxerxes, seeing all this, expertly leaned off his horse, grabbing a discarded spear sticking out of the earth. Without any pretense or a need to adjust for an aiming stance, Artaxerxes threw the 6-foot-long spear toward the chariot.

The charioteers, seeing this, could hardly react before the spear hurled over at immense speed, and lodged into one of the axles of the chariot, flipping the entire chariot and its inhabitants a dozen feet into the air and over Artaxerxes.

Artaxerxes, looking up and seeing the whites of the Bactrian's eyes, grinned and turned behind him as the charioteers crunched into the ground, and shortly after the chariot itself landed on top of them.

"Hahaha!"

Laughing after feeling the thrill of battle for the first time, Artaxerxes reared his horse and galloped towards any more vulnerable prey.

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Themistocles quickly rode down the corpse-littered slope and began looking for any lieutenants or aides who had a semblance of authority and understanding of the current placement of soldiers.

Finding a familiar face among the ruckus of men, all arguing about one thing or another, Themtocles called out, "Achilles! The King is in need of reinforcement, where are our elite infantry!"

Turning after hearing his name called, a blonde, the blue-eyed man responded, "Themistocles! Good to finally see a capable face in this chaos!"

Achilles said with a grin, continuing on he said, "More and more infantry are arriving as we speak and are being sent up the slope, the main issue seems to be that it's in small increments as the rear of the army was quite separated from one another."

Hearing this, Themistocles grimaced. He had seen the row of organized columns at the Bactrian's disposal, looking around him, Themistocles only saw a scattering of various troops who all seemed clueless as to what to do and who to listen to.

If sent up disorganizedly and sparsely, these isolated and small detachments of soldiers would be decimated. "There is good news Themistocles, our brothers arrived a moment ago and are ready to prove their worth to the young King!" Achilles said with assurance.

Smiling after hearing such good news, Themistocles exclaimed, "Excellent, our greek brothers will be more than enough to send the Bactrians on their heels!"

Themistocles had always kept a small group of Greek mercenary hoplites with him as a safety precaution during Xerxes reign. However, shortly after Artaxerxes took power, he ordered for the full recruitment of Greek mercenaries for the upcoming rebellion. Thus, Themistocles had 10,000 Greek hoplites under his direct command.

"You speak of our brothers Achilles, but I do not see them?" Themistocles asked, puzzled by the lack of any hoplites in sight.

"Ah! hold on a moment." Achilles, unfastening a horn from his belt, blew it, causing a majestic blast, tearing through the cacophony of the ongoing battle above.

Shortly after the horns sounded, smoke rose over a nearby rolling hill. Crescenting the low hill were endless ranks of elite greek hoplites donned in bronze breastplates, flowing capes, and the legendary Corinthian helmet.

Seeing such a sight brought tears to Themistocles eyes, "Splendid! Just splendid!"