The Rise Of An Empire In Ancient Europe
Chapter 52 Crossing the River

Chapter 52: Chapter 52 Crossing the River

"Form ranks!" the officers bellowed, their voices cutting through the air.

The soldiers wading through the river scrambled back toward the shore in a panic. The water, swift and relentless, threatened to sweep them away. Some barely managed to find footing, their faces pale with fear.

"The riverbed is full of large, round stones. It’s slippery and difficult to walk on!" one soldier reported, gasping for breath after dragging himself ashore. His soaked armor clanged as he tried to steady himself.

Standing nearby, Timasion, one of the Greek leaders, frowned deeply. He turned to his comrades and said in a resigned tone, "It seems that with the Persians occupying the opposite bank, it will be almost impossible for us to cross the river here." His words carried the weight of grim realization.

The other leaders, including Xenophon, Chirisophus, and Cleanor, stood in somber agreement. They directed their attention toward the opposite bank. The scene was alarming: the Persian forces, having halted their advance, were now stationed in a long, unwavering line along the riverbank. Their formation stretched for more than a mile, and the sheer number of soldiers—estimated at no fewer than 20,000—was a daunting sight.

"It’s Orontes’ army!" Cleanor exclaimed, his voice tinged with both surprise and apprehension.

Xenophon, ever quick to assess the situation, muttered in regret, "It looks like he beat us here." His words hinted at a mixture of frustration and strategic awareness.

Before the group could respond, Zantiparis pointed suddenly toward the enemy lines and shouted in astonishment, "Look! He’s recruited a large number of Carduchians!"

The mention of Carduchians caught Juleios off guard. Confused, he turned to Philesius for clarification.

"Carduchians?" he asked, his tone betraying curiosity.

Felix, known for his knowledge of local tribes, explained, "They are a tribe native to Armenia, renowned for their ferocity in battle. The Persians often recruit them as heavy infantry because of their skill and bravery." He gestured toward the enemy ranks. "See there? The warriors wearing leather helmets and robes, holding long shields and spears—they are the Carduchians."

Following Philesius’s guidance, Juleios examined the enemy formation. Sure enough, a contingent of warriors stood prominently at the front. They carried long, curved shields in one hand and imposing spears in the other. Their armor, though simple, exuded an air of rugged resilience.

"Orontes has spared no effort to block us," Timasion said bitterly. "But the Carduchians are no match for us!" His voice brimmed with confidence, though his clenched fists betrayed his frustration.

"But with this river in the way, the odds are no longer in our favor," Zantiparis replied, his tone shaded with a pessimism that was hard to ignore.

Chirisophus, ever the calm and composed leader, broke the tension with a decisive command. "Order the soldiers to set up camp and rest. Meanwhile, send out scouts to search for a better place to ford the river."

The orders were relayed swiftly, and the Greek army withdrew to a location less than a mile from the Kentrites River. There, they began constructing their camp, the soldiers working methodically despite their growing weariness.

Not long after, Lydus, one of the scouts, returned with news.

"I found no signs of Persian forces on this side of the river," he reported, his voice steady but grave. "However, I spotted some Carduchians in the nearby forests, spying on us."

This revelation caused the leaders to exchange uneasy glances.

"Bring Izam here," Chirisophus ordered.

Izam was the son of Kamorlos, the chief of the Kesokante tribe. Originally sent as a guide by his father, Izam had spent twenty days with the Greek mercenaries. During this time, he had developed a fascination with the Greek way of life and their distant homeland. This curiosity had driven him to abandon thoughts of returning to his isolated mountain village. With his father’s reluctant approval, Izam had formally joined the mercenary army.

When summoned, Izam appeared surprised but quickly composed himself. He swore an oath before the leaders. "The Carduchians you saw couldn’t possibly have been sent by the Kesokante tribe," he declared with conviction. "I would stake my life on it." Eager to prove his loyalty, he volunteered to investigate the situation further.

The leaders conferred briefly before granting him permission. Accompanied by Lydus, Izam ventured into the forest.

Half an hour later, the two returned. Izam’s expression was resolute as he delivered his report.

"The Carduchians in the forest belong to the defeated tribes that once united against you in the mountains," he explained. "I even recognized some of their faces. They’re here to watch you, possibly looking for an opportunity to strike."

As Izam exited the tent, Xenophon let out a sigh of relief. "I told you," he said, turning to the others. "Kamorlos cooperated well with us before. There’s no way he would suddenly turn on us now."

Cleanor, however, remained skeptical. "Don’t trust that Carduchian so easily," he warned. "How do you know Kamorlos’ son isn’t lying? We’ve all seen what Kamorlos is like—arguing with us over spoils after every battle, even for something as trivial as a clay pot!"

"Now that our alliance has ended, there’s nothing stopping him," Timasion added grimly.

"But his son is in our hands," Xenophon countered.

"Word is he has over ten sons," Cleanor retorted. "Losing one wouldn’t bother him. And who’s to say he didn’t send this one as a spy?"

Seated in the corner, Juleios observed the growing tension with concern. He noted how Xenophon, known for his sharp mind and energetic leadership, often clashed with the other leaders. While his boldness earned him admiration from the soldiers, it occasionally ruffled feathers among his peers.

In contrast, Juleios maintained a quieter demeanor. Though younger, he had earned respect through his thoughtful and composed approach to leadership. He listened attentively during discussions, learning from the seasoned veterans around him.

Finally, Swin broke the tension. "We all know Kamorlos is ambitious and clever," he said. "A man like that knows when to act. Right now, his priority should be consolidating the four defeated tribes he absorbed. That’s why he broke ties with us so suddenly."

"So the Carduchians spying on us really are from the defeated tribes?" Juleios asked, his voice calm but probing.

"It’s likely they’re here looking for an easy opportunity," Swin added.

"Whatever their intentions," Chirisophus said, his tone firm, "we’ll deal with them. Our priority is finding a way to cross the river, break through Orontes’ blockade, and enter Armenia."

The day passed without progress.

By the second day, the situation had worsened. Reports indicated that the number of Carduchians in the nearby hills had swelled to over a thousand. Meanwhile, Persian reinforcements continued to arrive on the opposite bank. Supplies dwindled alarmingly, and soldiers gathering firewood were frequently ambushed by the Carduchians.

The worsening conditions left the soldiers restless and the leaders on edge. During a tense meeting, Xenophon proposed sending Izam back to his father to request help in driving away the Carduchians. This suggestion was met with derision from Timasion, leading to a heated argument.

On the third morning, Xenophon strode into the tent, his demeanor triumphant. Accompanying him were two young warriors, their faces lit with excitement.

The warriors had discovered a shallow crossing point where the river could be forded on foot.

This news immediately lifted the spirits of the leaders. Their previous arguments were set aside as hope replaced despair. To avoid drawing the attention of the Persians, Chirisophus disguised himself as a common soldier and went with a scouting party to inspect the crossing point.

When he returned, his relaxed expression told the others everything they needed to know. The plan to cross the river was finally within reach.