Chapter 237: 236
The hillside he'd chosen to make their stand upon rose out of the Arcadian landscape like an unassuming giant, its slopes rolling gently toward a jagged crown of rock.
To an untrained eye, it appeared no different from the countless other hills dotting the plains, its flanks draped in sparse vegetation and rocky outcroppings.
But Julius saw its potential the moment they arrived and his suspicions about the terrain were verified before his very eyes.
To him, it wasn't just a hill—it was a fortress in disguise.
This location was the place upon which a national project could be created, a great watchtower and fortress site capable of policing the entire area and meant to provide protection for travellers and merchants travelling the great peloponis rode from Athenia to Sparta.
As the last of the Romanus legion's columns crested the rise, Julius rode at the head of the formation, his gaze sweeping over the land below.
From this vantage point, he could see the Arcadian plains stretching wide and far, an unbroken expanse of golden grassland punctuated by clusters of distant trees.
The main road ran parallel to the hill, a natural route for the Greecian Allied forces to take as they advanced.
They would see the hill and the troops stationed atop it and believe they had the Romans cornered.
But that belief would be their undoing.
"Get the men working,"
Julius ordered, his voice crisp as he turned to Haddin, who rode beside him.
"We need fortifications up before nightfall. Start with the northern slope—traps, palisades, and whatever we can scavenge for barriers beyond what we have brought with us."
Haddin gave a sharp nod, but his expression was tinged with curiosity.
"You're putting a lot of faith in this hill, Julius. To anyone looking up at us from below, it'll look like we've boxed ourselves in."
"That's the point,"
Julius replied, dismounting from his horse and gesturing for his aides to begin marking positions on the ground.
"The Greecians will think they have us pinned. A hill like this looks like a trap for the defenders, with no clear escape routes. But in truth, the terrain gives us every advantage, and it is the enemies own numbers that will be their undoing."
He motioned toward the base of the hill, where the slopes grew steeper, their surfaces jagged with loose rock and crumbling ledges.
"The southern face is impassable for any army worth its name—sheer rock and too narrow for large units to climb without being cut down by our ranged attacks. The northern slope is where they'll attack, but it's deceptively steep and broken. They'll have to come at us in waves, and each wave will be funnelled into narrow chokepoints we can fortify."
Haddin followed his line of sight, his lips pressing into a thoughtful line.
"And if they try to encircle us?"
"They won't have time,"
Julius said.
"The Greecians are desperate—they'll come at us head-on, looking for a quick victory. They'll expect to overwhelm us with numbers. What they won't expect is for the terrain to turn their numbers against them."
Haddin let out a low whistle.
"It's a gamble. But a good one."
Julius smirked faintly.
"War is always a gamble, General. The trick is to make the enemy bet more than they can afford to lose."
The camp bustled with activity as the legion set to work.
Tents were pitched in the flattest areas, weapons sharpened, and fortifications began to take shape under Julius' careful direction.
Palisades rose along the northern slope—tall, jagged stakes planted deep into the ground to slow any advancing enemy.
Hidden pits were dug near the base of the hill, their openings covered with brush to disguise the deadly traps beneath.
At the center of the camp, a second line of defence was prepared: rows of sharpened stakes and barricades arranged to create kill zones where the Greecians' superior numbers would be rendered meaningless.
Julius moved among his men, offering quiet encouragement and overseeing the work with a practiced eye.
He knew that morale was as important as strategy, especially when facing a larger force.
The men needed to see their commander in action, to know he was not just a strategist but a soldier willing to share in their labour.
By midday, the fortifications were beginning to take shape.
Haddin approached Julius near the summit of the hill, where the command tent had been erected, his expression grim.
"Scouts have returned milord,"
the older general said, handing Julius a scrap of parchment.
"The Greecian force is now about two days away, maybe less if they push the men hard. Still no sign of siege equipment, but they've got cavalry—light and some heavy but luckily not many. Infantry makes up the bulk of their force."
Julius scanned the report, his brow furrowing in thought.
"What about their flanks? Supply lines?"
"Nothing solid yet,"
Haddin replied.
"But the scouts saw a few wagons trailing their main force. Likely carrying rations and arrows, but if they've brought anything heavier, we'll know soon enough."
Julius folded the parchment and tucked it into his belt.
"We'll need to neutralize their cavalry early. The slopes won't give them much room to maneuver, but they'll still be dangerous if we don't prepare."
Haddin's eyes narrowed.
"How do you plan to handle them?"
Julius glanced toward the southern face of the hill, where a narrow ravine cut through the rock.
"We'll funnel them into the ravine—set spikes along the entrance to break their charge and archers along the edges to pick them off. If we hold the high ground, their cavalry will be useless."
Haddin grinned.
"You've thought this through."
"I don't intend to lose,"
Julius replied simply.
As the sun began its descent toward the horizon, casting long shadows across the camp, the fortifications were nearly complete.
The men worked with a sense of purpose, their movements swift and efficient under Julius' watchful eye.
The hill was transforming before their eyes—a natural fortress made lethal by Romanus ingenuity.
At the summit, Julius stood alone for a moment, gazing out at the plains below.
The landscape was quiet, but he could feel the storm brewing just beyond the horizon.
Somewhere out there, the Greecian Allied force was marching toward them, their desperation driving them forward like a tide to reclaim the fallen Greecian lands, expel the invaders and if they are very lucky liberate their veteran men taken prisoner by the first legion.
Haddin joined him, his expression contemplative.
"You've done well, Julius. The men are working hard just for you, impressively so."
"They'll thank me when we win, and knowing it was all their own doing that made it possible."
Julius replied.
His gaze remained fixed on the horizon, his voice steady but firm.
"This hill is our advantage, but it won't win the battle on its own. The Greecians will come at us with everything they have. If we falter, even for a moment, it'll cost us everything."
Haddin nodded, his face hardening.
"We won't falter."
Julius turned to him, a glint of determination in his eyes.
"No, we won't."
As the last rays of sunlight faded, torches were lit across the camp, their flames flickering in the growing darkness.
The hill stood silent and ready, the beginnings of a fortress waiting for its first test.
The men of the 2nd Romanus Legion settled in for the night, their preparations complete, their weapons within arm's reach.
The Greecians were coming.
And when they arrived, they would find not a trapped force waiting to be crushed, but a legion ready to turn the tide of war once more back into their favor.