Having done the impossible, Jaune Arc descends upon Rome with his army and threatens her northern boarder. Having barely amassed a new force of raw and untrained citizen soldiers, Consul Yang Xiao Long and Ruby Rose will throw themselves against the barbarian in a last ditch effort to buy time for their only hope, Consul Weiss Schnee.
Not a day went by that I hoped I would be wrong. But, my intuition has never failed me before, and it chose not to at the most crucial of moments. The barbarian crossed the Alps. In the beginning of winter, he took a whole army up through those mountains and managed to come out with a force that we can't even reconnoiter. We only received word of this when he began to besiege the towns closest to him. Velvet was shocked into rage, and Yang only pushed herself even harder to gather what forces she could to defend our republic. She immediately sent word to Weiss that she and her forces were needed to reinforce us. I hated seeing sister in such a state of grief, but it hurt even worse to know that I was the source, the thing she seeks most to protect. She has much more to worry about.
Of course, it was not long before we finally scouted out the barbarian's camp pitched alongside the river Ticinus.
Yang had declared the night before that we had not only won the first war with Carthage and practically subjected them to slaves, but Jaune had been so terrified of fighting us that he chose to flee into the Alps, rather than face our swords. It was clever propaganda, but she did inspire our forces.
So today we finally ride out to defeat the barbarian. We are four-thousand strong on horse, and we ride on flat terrain, but our mobility is being hindered by a force of javelin skirmishers on foot. Sister did not spare me an explanation, instead choosing to place me in the safety of a rear unit in haste before assuming her position at the front.
The cold winter wind blows directly into my face with a sharp cut. I do wish that these helmets could protect us better from the elements. As I look around, I see that the other men and women are just as displeased with the conditions.
My bronze breastplate rests firmly on my shoulders as I ride at a slow pace. Surrounding me are twenty-eight other cavalry units, and the commander of us all, Velvet Scarlatina, whom I have the honor of riding alongside.
Adjusting my helmet with one hand, I keep my left hand firmly gripped on my shield. "Velvet-" I begin to ask, but she immediately interrupts me.
"Soldier, while you are under my command, you will address me with due respect." She bites back with a glare that really makes her eyes look big. I don't like it.
I quickly bow my head in submission. "Yes, of course, general. My apologies, general."
She slowly nods in acknowledgement. "See to it that you stay the course. Now what is it that troubles you?"
"This is to be a skirmish, yes?" I ask with concern.
"It is, soldier." Velvet answers without turning her head. "What of it?"
"Consul Long did not have time to offer me an explanation as to why she brings them with us." I inform her as we continue to ride at a marching pace.
Velvet shakes her head, red feathered helmet swaying in the wind. "She did not inform me of the change. I can only trust her judgement." She replies with disdain dripping in her tone.
A trumpet blares, and we halt.
It is signaling for a redeployment.
"Skirmishers." Velvet translates to herself.
The trumpet blares again, but in a series of bursts.
"Gallic cavalry units." She murmurs.
The trumpet blares much longer.
"To the front!" Velvet declares with a grin. Drawing her gladius, she waves it over her head and looks around. "Skirmishers! Gallic cavalry! To the front!"
The men and women on foot take off, quickly kicking up a cloud of dust that hinders my own breathing. Regardless, we quickly ride to the front line and come upon the sight of Yang Xiao Long, clad in bronze armor and shield, riding up and down the ranks, an extended gladius called a spartha in her hand. "Javelins! Fooorm up!" She yells as she rides by us. "Today is the day we have waited for!" She yells, but I can hear the worry in her tone.
Looking ahead, I see that less than four-hundred feet away from us a similar fiasco is taking root with the Carthaginian forces. But they have three figures riding back and forth.
Our skirmishers attempt to get organized whilst marching. We are stuck in a slow trot behind them. I feel as if we are setting ourselves up for disaster.
I look around me. The Roman cavalry is being formed into straight lines like infantry. Looking ahead, I see that the Carthaginian cavalry is beginning to charge forward.
"Hooold faaast!" Yang orders as she rides past my unit again, her yellow cape flowing freely. "Prepare to attack!"
But our skirmishers are slowing. Some even drop their javelins as the war cries of barbarians grows louder. They're less than three-hundred feet from us now.
The skirmishers begin to panic, and they turn their backs to the enemy and flee like cowards! "NO!" I shout. "Stand your ground!"
They do not heed my order. The Carthaginian cavalry is in full gallop now. Less than two-hundred feet away, I can see that they are lead by a man with blonde hair and two women, one with red hair, and the other with orange. They raise bent swords called falcatas in the air and are received with a rallied cry by their forces.
Sister! Where is sister?! I look around. She had went down the line, leaving my unit on the right flank. There she is! Towards the middle, about a hundred feet away from us.
Our trumpet blares. It signals a charge. I draw my gladius.
And so we charge.
With my shield at the ready, my unit charges in formation, and we unleash our own war cry. The woman next to me, one with curled orange hair and green eyes, gives a very terrifying cry of her own.
As the enemy closes in on us, I raise my gladius and wait as the enemy comes within striking distance.
A seemingly endless wave collides with us, and I bring my gladius down on the man closest to me. He continue to ride past me, but I made contact. The agonizing scream he gives is soon joined by literally hundreds of others. But the screams are almost drowned out by the sound of metal clashing.
I raise my shield and am nearly knocked from my horse as I feel a very powerful blow connect with my shield. I lower it and see that a woman is raising her falcata above her head and preparing to strike me again.
A swift stabbing motion with my gladius connects to her exposed midriff. She falls with a scream.
More are upon us. I can barely concentrate with the cries of hundreds upon hundreds being wounded and killed. The blood of Romans and barbarians slowly finds its way onto my armor, skin, sword, and shield as I continue to cut down those who come upon me and my unit, numbers slowly dwindling on both sides.
Another rides up to me and brings his falcata down. I manage to raise my shield and block the blow, but it is only partially received. I peak above my shield and see that the girl with green eyes has already stabbed him in the gut, and he slumps over his horse, which continues to trot past me.
One runs up to me with a war cry. Whether he lost his horse or dismounted, I know not, but he leaps into the air and intends to stab me with his blade. Panicking, I swing my sword in a horizontal cut, and watch as his body falls short, colliding with my horse. His right arm, still gripping the blade, lands in my lap.
I fear I shall vomit and lose my strength.
It is clear that we engaged a numerically superior force, but we hold our own for quite some time.
But cries of panic fill the air behind me, and I catch sight of numerous Roman cavalry units fleeing. "What?! Where are you going?!" I shout to them in disbelief. They are Roman! We do not flee!
"The Numidians have flanked 'round and cut us to pieces!" One screams to me in terror. "The battle is lost!" She declares as she rides away from my unit.
A Carthaginian riding by decapitates her as he rides towards me. I bring my gladius up and block his blade. The blood on his falcata is launched onto my face. Flinching, I bash his face in with my shield and finish him off with a stab to the gut. He falls in silence.
But my actions go unnoticed as more and more of us begin to flee. "Cowards!" I scream at them in frustration.
"DISMOOOUNT!" I hear my sister order. Through the chaos, I see that her own unit has dwindled to a handful, and she is on her own legs now. "DISMOOOUNT!" She orders again, and the units around her obey, forming a protective wall around her. She will lose her life if I do not act quickly.
"COWARDS!" I exclaim as I break away from my unit. "THE LOT OF YOU!" I scream as I ride towards my sister.
"Confound it, Ruby!" I hear Velvet scream to me. "Cavalry! To me!" She orders.
"YOU ARE NOT WORTHY OF DEATH!" I cry out as I gallop to my sister, who holds her shield in her left hand and swings her spartha in her right. She drops her shield and falls onto her side. Mors, god of death, spare my sister, and I shall trade you a hundred-thousand enemies.
My unit rides by my side now, spurred into action by my desperation. We reach my sister who lies still on the battlefield. Dismounting, I discard my shield and sword and quickly pull her blood-soaked body up to her feet. She grips her leg in pain, blood pooling through her fingers. "Leave me, sister!" She gasps in pain. "Do not waste your own life!"
One glance, and I see that she's suffered a severe slash across the skin. My unit surrounds us and buys me time enough to push her onto my horse.
I leap on and grab the reigns. "Hold onto me, sister!" Desperately order as I pull my horse away from the Carthaginian's line. "Follow me!" I shout to my unit as my sister locks her arms around me.
My unit follows at a gallop, escorting me through the chaos of trampled soldiers, dead and dying; horses without their riders; and our allies locked in mortal combat.
We are retreating.
We have lost.
Next time: Consul Weiss Schnee finally arrives with her own army, and finds her fellow consul unable to lead. Her frustration is not quelled even by a reunion with her lover, Ruby Rose. Fulled by pride, ambition, and well-placed intentions, Weiss will take command of Rome's army, and on the winter solstice she will go on the offensive, placing the entire republic in jeopardy.