Read Antioch Burns for Free Online Page A

before age and experience turned them into the very thing they had so rebelled against in their youth.
    “Sir?” Etruscas interrupted. “The Mongols are moving against the flank as well.”
    Tearing his attention away from the drama unfolding in the center, he focused on the situation at hand.
    “Order skirmishers forward, infantry in Omega formation.” Ranks of pila -armed legionnaires marched forward; opening their ranks to allow men armed with repeater crossbows through. Enemy outriders were already beginning their harassing fire, no doubt attempting to infuriate the Roman flank commander into making rash moves. Regillus turned to stare back at the tribune, safely ensconced behind his infantry forces to the rear.
    Phyrsis finally mounted his horse, his aide waving a signal flag at Regillus’ forward command party. Adrenaline pounding in his veins, Regillus gripped the reins and spurred his horse. The rest of the Roman line advanced at a slow march, his light cavalry forces pushing around the flanks to support the infantry’s advance. Mongol skirmishers raced back and forth, spattering the legionnaires with arrows. The infantry marched on, studiously ignoring the light missile fire.
    As they approached a rise in the road, Regillus ordered a stop.
    “Eliminate those riders,” he ordered. “I don’t want anyone fighting us for the hilltop. I want to own it.” The message was quickly passed down, and a rank of repeater crossbows stepped forward from the line. As they trotted towards the skirmishers, the tribesmen pulled their horses around and took aim at the crossbowmen. The legionnaires went down on one knee and took aim. Other legionnaires stood by to cover the crossbowmen with their shields when they needed to reload. Their bolts, shorter ranged than the horsebows or long bows, packed a punch, and it was not long before several empty steppe ponies were galloping for the rear, soon joined by their still mounted comrades.
    “Good, continue the advance as the tribune ordered.” Etruscas grunted an affirmative. As the infantry took the hill, Regillus pulled his cavalry forces to the west, aiming to support the movements of the center. To the west, Legate General Flavian’s legionnaires advanced as well, cohorts opening large gaps in the line as the cavalry poured through. Opposite them, the Mongols continued to mill around, their light cavalry creating a scene of apprehension and confusion at the advance of the heavy cataphractii cavalry.
    Regillus gritted his teeth. It was going to be a long day.

Day Three: A Disaster in the Making
    “Hold the line!” Regillus screamed, using the flat of his sword to beat at the men trying to flee back into the city. The clamor of battle surrounded the small salient of Romans holding the northern gate. Ballistae and scorpion fire tore down from the forty-foot high walls, shredding rank upon rank of Mongol cavalrymen.
    It mattered little, for the enemy’s forces were seemingly endless. They had replaced the losses from the previous day’s battle in record time, throwing fresh troops against the exhausted Roman defenders. The half circle of legionnaires and dismounted cataphractarii fought shoulder to shoulder, stalling the attackers long enough to allow as many fleeing troops into the city as possible. Just inside the gate, the city militia had finally assembled, their formation shaky as they watched the carnage unfolding outside the gates.
    “Preafectus! Fall back and take charge of the men inside the city. We’ll keep them busy out here! The gates cannot fall. Do you understand? The gates cannot fall!” Tribune Phyrsis croaked at him. Stabbing his sword into the ground, the officer took the last swig from his canteen.
    “I will use the last of our cataphractarii to buy you some time. Shut the gates.”
    “But, sir! We have to save everyone we can!”
    “I have faith in your leadership. No one will listen to a former cavalryman. But they might listen to you because of