Rome Must Fall

Chapter 56: Deception

With these thoughts in mind, Furius felt a surge of energy and excitement, and he gave the order once again: “Let the soldiers increase their marching speed!”

A centurion couldn’t help but remind him, “Sir, the weather is hot today. We should prevent the soldiers from marching excessively and risking heatstroke!”

Furius glared at him and cunningly argued, “Precisely because it’s hot, we need to speed up and try to reach Naples as soon as possible. By then, I will strive to have the people of Naples provide the soldiers with Vesuvian wine to quench their thirst.”

Furius had his subordinates spread his explanation, and the soldiers stopped complaining and instead cheered.

Seeing this, Furius smirked with satisfaction, looking up at the blazing sun in the sky. Camp Commander Cossinius used to be Varinius’ comrade-in-arms. As a seasoned soldier, he should slow down the march in such scorching conditions… This way, when I depart from Naples tomorrow and attack the slave camp, Cossinius’ troops will still have more than half a day’s journey remaining. Even if I defeat those slaves, they might not be able to catch up…

Lost in his thoughts, Furius was interrupted by a Roman cavalryman riding ahead, holding a spear with feathers tied to it (indicating he was a temporary messenger with urgent news). The soldiers quickly cleared a path for him.

“Report, sir! There are over 5,000 slaves approaching us!” The scout rider anxiously reported to Furius.

“Five thousand slaves…” Furius, instead of feeling nervous upon hearing this, became excited. “These lowly slaves didn’t stay in their own camp and dared to launch an attack on us proactively! They’ve come at just the right time, saving us a lot of effort!”

“Sir, their numbers may be far more than 5,000, and they even have cavalry. They have driven us out, so we couldn’t conduct deeper reconnaissance,” the scout reminded him.

“Most of them have no armor, not even weapons. They carry farming tools and clubs, only a few have equipment similar to ours, probably obtained from the previous battle.”

Furius grew even more confident and immediately asked, “How far away are these slaves from us?”

“Um… when I left, it was about three kilometers.”

Furius stopped asking questions and turned to the messenger, saying, “Order the soldiers to halt immediately, put on their armor, take up their swords and shields, move into formation facing south, and prepare to confront the enemy!”

The messenger had also heard the scout’s report and didn’t raise any objections like “The enemy is approaching fiercely, we should retreat temporarily.” Instead, he believed Furius’ decision was only natural: How could Roman citizens withdraw in front of a group of lowly slaves? No matter how many they are, they are nothing more than a disorganized mob!

With this mindset, he galloped alongside the marching column, shouting loudly.

The soldiers stopped their advance. Perhaps hearing that the approaching enemy was slaves, they remained relatively calm. They calmly placed their furca^[1] resting on their shoulders, unloaded the bags strapped to their heads, took out their square shields from their covers, fastened their helmets hanging on their chests, and began to move into formation under the command of their officers. The slave laborers of the army gathered the soldiers’ belongings and took them along with the accompanying wagons to the rear of the formation… The whole process was orderly, a result of two months of rigorous training.

Furius was pleased with the soldiers’ performance. Now he commanded four cohorts, with more than 2,000 men, not enough to form a traditional battle formation. So he ordered the soldiers to leave the Via Annia and form a tight horizontal formation on the west side of the road, facing south.

Not long after the Roman soldiers finished lining up, they saw the enemy figures appearing in the distance: These enemies had no glorious banners, no splendid armor, no sharp weapons, and no organized formation. They were ragged, disorganized, bustling along the Via Annia, heading north…

“These are our enemies? Even my old man at home could defeat them,” a soldier’s sarcastic remark caused laughter among the surrounding soldiers.

The Roman soldiers appeared relaxed, and Furius was equally at ease. He hoped these foolish slaves would just charge straight at them, and then he would lead the army to strike them hard…

But then he saw a dozen or so slave cavalrymen riding up to the front of the enemy from beside the road, shouting something at them. The enemy swiftly halted their advance and began forming up.

Furius felt a slight unease and an impulse surged within him, wanting to launch an attack while the enemy was in disarray. But he quickly restrained himself. After all, the two armies were about 500 meters away, and by the time his eagerly advancing soldiers reached the enemy lines, these slaves might already have been frightened away. Besides, it would be difficult for soldiers in heavy armor to catch up with these lightly dressed slaves. When the time came, he would lead the army to attack the slave camp. It was better to wait for the enemy to come and die on their own.

Furius made up his mind and continued sitting on horseback in front of the formation, patiently observing the enemy’s movements…

Then he saw the enemy in front of him, after a period of chaos, becoming organized: The enemies in the front quickly formed a simple formation and kept moving to the sides. Meanwhile, the enemies in the rear kept surging forward, like a growing bamboo shoot. It started with one point and gradually turned into a line, and this line had already surpassed the length of their own formation and continued to extend…

Furius became increasingly uneasy, and then his eyes widened: Fully armed soldiers appeared in the center of the enemy formation, and their numbers kept increasing, shining brightly under the scorching sun…

D*mn scouts! Are they blind?! How could they miss the fact that the majority of the enemy is well-equipped?! The number of armored soldiers among them far exceeds ours! Furius cursed in his mind, almost wanting to give the order to retreat. But reason told him that retreating in front of the enemy was a great taboo. Even if they were several hundred meters apart, his heavily armored soldiers wouldn’t be able to run far and would likely be chased down by the unarmed slaves on the flanks of the enemy formation, ultimately leading to defeat. To be defeated without engaging in battle, he would not only be held accountable by the Senate upon his return to Rome but also despised by the people. His life would be over!

Thinking of this, Furius decisively turned around and looked at the soldiers who were already showing signs of fear and restlessness. He raised his right arm high and shouted loudly, “Soldiers, you are elite Roman citizens, while they are just slaves to be commanded by you. No matter how numerous they are, they cannot defeat us who are blessed by Jupiter and have an excellent military tradition! Soldiers, for the glory of Rome, fight to the death! Fight to the death!”

Inspired by Furius’ stirring words, the soldiers’ courage was ignited, and they began shouting along, “FIGHT TO THE DEATH!! FIGHT TO THE DEATH!!!”

At this moment, Spartacus stood at the forefront of the rebel army’s formation, looking at the Roman army ahead, filled with joy in his heart: The Romans did not run away, this is great news!

It must be said that in order to create an illusion for the Romans, he deliberately arranged the Fifth and Fourth Cohorts as the vanguard (most soldiers in these two cohorts lacked armor and weapons, especially the Fifth Cohort), and he also had Omarkel lead the cavalry to drive away the Roman scouts… Now it seems that the plan is a success! Spartacus raised his short sword excitedly and pointed forward with force, “Attack!”

This time, he didn’t need to take the first action with the soldiers around him to drive the entire army forward. After hearing his shout, several buglers beside him immediately blew their bronze horns.

Woo!

Crixus, Oenomaus, Artorix, and Artemus, each standing at the forefront of their respective troops, heard the order to attack. They all turned back and shouted: “Brothers, follow me and advance!”

The entire army formation began to move forward. Ahead lay the Roman army that dominated the Mediterranean. The soldiers, originally slaves, couldn’t help feeling nervous, their palms sweating as they gripped their weapons. But being part of this massive military formation, with their ears filled with the excited shouts of their comrades and their eyes fixed on the strong, agile backs of the gladiators before them, their fear gradually faded. A desire for revenge surged within them, and their pace quickened…

Translator's Notes:

THIS CHAPTER UPLOAD FIRST AT NOVELBIN.COM