Last King of Kings

Chapter 33: One battle to end the civil war

Rostam had nowhere to run, with mountains behind him and enemy army in front of him. He still couldn't grasp how exactly did they manage to build an army so big. They must've started gathering the army much sooner than they declared their disloyalty. And that meant this rebellion wasn't because of the drastic reforms. Maybe they were funded from outside? Maybe. It was certainly possible that any of Persia's enemies would promise them land and wealth should they rebel against their Shahanshah. If it truly was like that, the culprit was fairly clear. But even if he was mistaken, right now, it didn't matter. What mattered was the enemy army in front of him.

He had the high ground, and with it came the advantage. Should he order his heavy cavalry charge down, the charge would be much more devastating than normal. His enemy was practically unable to use his cavalry. But it looked like he knew it, as enemy forces cavalry was in low numbers and a light one. They looked more like a scout unit than a proper light cavalry. It was obvious their original purpose wasn't head-on combat, or even battle participation. Was his enemy desperate? Maybe he was overwhelmed by Rostam's numbers, maybe he wasn't confident in himself or maybe he was just overly cautious. But Rostam knew his weakness and was determined to use it. He deployed all of his Aswaran on one flank, while he kept The Immortals in the centre, behind the infantry. Archers were deployed on the other flank, together with some spearmen and pikemen to fend off any cavalry charges. Lightly armoured cavalry like they had would melt when facing the sharp spears and pikes. He saw that the enemy went on the defensive, putting his only cavalry unit on the right flank, facing the Aswaran. Infantry covered the centre and archers were hiding behind the infantry. Rostam saw his meaning. If Rostam ordered his Aswaran to charge down, enemy light cavalry would intercept them and stall them at least, while enemy spearmen would hastily come and kill off the Aswaran. When cavalry, especially against spears, lost its momentum, they were easy target for long-reaching spearmen. It worked for Bahman only because of the surprise momentum they had. It wouldn't work for Rostam. And that is exactly why Rostam decided to go for it. If the enemy infantry left its place, archers would be unprotected, and when archers face the charge of heavy and elite cavalry, such as The Immortals, bloodbath is created.

Rostam gave orders to his sergeants who relayed them further. His order for the Aswaran was to engage the enemy cavalry, and once the enemy infantry leaves its position, they are ordered to fall back. The Immortals will take their place, charging down the enemy archers followed by infantry. If the archers are destroyed, their army won't have any support whatsoever, combine that with relentless arrow rains from Rostam's archers, repeated cavalry and infantry charges, their army will collapse. Eventually.

It was time. Rostam oversaw the whole battlefield as he ordered the first wave of the attack. Aswaran started to gain acceleration while charging down the hill. You could feel the momentum in them. Anyone standing in their way right now would be crushed down. Four thousand of them, charging down the slopes, right into the enemy cavalry. They didn't move an inch, but their horses did, clearly unhappy about the four thousand, heavily armoured men charging at them at high speed. Then came the clash. Aswaran rode right through, not stopping while taking the enemy cavalry with them. Some men flew a good ten metres before landing on the ground, dead. Some jumped off their horse to save their life, only to be crushed under the heavy horses. Some tried to run away. And some even managed to. Either way, their cavalry was dead, with Aswaran now being surrounded by enemy spearmen while being under fire from enemy archers. Although Rostam's archers were firing suppressive shots on the enemy, it wasn't enough to stop enemy archers from firing a few salves on the Aswaran, as they hurriedly retreated. Not few remained dead on the battlefield. But this was no time to be feeling remorse, as the main charge was yet to unfold. Ten thousand Immortals spread their wings and unleashed their wrath upon the enemy in the form of their unrelenting, hard as steel charge, as if being the eagle descending, coming down upon its prey. It was magnificent. Rostam stayed on the hill, observing the charge. They ran right through the enemy archers and some infantry that was left there. Who would've guessed what can ten thousand men do to twenty thousand. And how easily. Bodies flew away where The Immortals touched the enemy. Enemies came down where The Immortals swung their sabres and thrusted their spears. Rostam's infantry, clearly inspired by this charge was already enthusiastically following their orders and also charging down to help The Immortals and to allow them to fall back a bit, to gain the distance for a new charge. Enemy archers laid dead, massacred. Their infantry was still holding, fending off Rostams infantry while blocking the incoming arrows. Rostam didn't see Endarghar anywhere. He either fled, or was lying dead on the battlefield. Either way, this battle was won.

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"Roxane, my dear daughter, again? Why did you again fled from your Middle Persian lesson? Didn't we already talked this over? I thought we did."

This wasn't the first time this happened. Roxane ran off from her Middle Persian teacher more than once before. It was becoming a habit for Heraclius to scold her and to force to participate in the lessons.

"You need to learn Middle Persian, as you'll be using it for the most part of your life, Roxane. Just accept it and bear with it. I promise you, he's a great boy. I'm sure you'll like him."

She heard these words so many times before. "He's a great boy." "He's handsome." "He's rich and powerful." "He's the Emperor." All of these phrases started to sound almost the same to her. So what if he's handsome, rich or powerful? Why should she care? She never said she wants to marry someone who is any of that.

"I would accept it, were it so easy as how you make it sound, Father. But you can't understand me, and never will! You married Mother because you loved her and no one forced you. I have it different! You are forcing me!"

Heraclius did feel a bit guilty, because he loved his daughter. But then again, it was for the so-called "greater good." In other words, circumstance forced him to make such decision. He came closer to her, kneeling down and hugging you.

"You are right, my darling. I can't possibly know what you are going through. But please, believe me this. I wouldn't marry you to someone I wouldn't trust will keep you safe and happy."

He couldn't possibly force on a seven-year old girl something like "If you don't marry him, war will break out and thousands would die." That would be too much for her to swallow. She began crying, tears flowing down from her cheeks.

"Now, will you return to your lesson? Pretty please." asked Heraclius in a gentle tone. Roxane just nodded.

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