Chapter 1125 Battle For Phyrros Island (Part-3)
Lord Bernard seemed concerned that the recently repaired bridge was too hastily mended to be able to take the full blurt of 2,000 men walking over it at the same time.
And hearing this, all the scowls among the rest of the men in the room suddenly subsided, as they realized what the man was saying might very well be right.
They had seen for themselves how the once pure stone bridge was now only held together by a skeletal mish mesh of wooden planks and thick flaxen ropes, making the solid structure appear almost creaking and rickety.
It would not be wise to have so many men run across it in its current state.
Thus upon Lord Bernard delineating the circumstances, Lord Parker was very quick to agree, and changed his command as such, "Okay, have the men instead board the ships we have managed to restore. Tell them to sail east and land behind the enemy. We will catch Alexander in a pincher and destroy the man once and for all!"
It seemed that when it came to tactics, Alexander and Lord Parker tended to think similarly.
Thus with the order given, five ships, carrying around 1,000 men were hastily prepared, and they quickly began to travel east, passing under the large arches of the bridge connecting Phyrros Island to the mainland, and making a beeline for the flanks of the Alexander's men.
But this was where, in a matter of completely unplanned circumstances, they suddenly came face to face with a contingent of Alexander's men, who were the attacking force on their way to the west side of the Phyrros Island in order to carry out their own ambitious assault.
Thus given one sailing east, the other sailing west- it was like the destined battle was written in the stars.
Compared to Lord Parker, Alexander's attacking force for this attack was relatively small, numbering only about five hundred men aboard four lonely ships.
So half the troops, and in much smaller, almost midget like ships when compared to the behemoths of the Heeat family.
Alexander would have of course loved to send many more, preferably twice the numbers, as he had done on the initial attack, but as you will remember, the man was really, really, really strapped for this single precious resource.
Out of the 6,000 men, which also included the servants, he had already committed 1,500 legionaries to this endeavor.
And at that point, he was told flat out by Remus that this was the maximum he could siphon. A single more and it would seriously jeopardize the integrity of the defensive lines.
Alexander could never allow that to happen, even if it meant giving up on Phyrros Island and thus reinforcements from Lord Janus.
Because he always had to contend with the possibility that Lord Parker, upon seeing Alexander commit so heavily to taking a single spit of useless rock, would decide to abandon it in favor of launching a full fledged attack on the lines.
And then, it was certainly possible due to the scant numbers, the legionnaires would be unable to plug all the gaps at once, and thus buckle.
What would happen then?
What if Lord Parker managed to break through and take the mansion?
Well that would be it, wouldn't it?
Game over.
What was Alexander going to do with the Phyrros Island then? Sit on it and suck his thumb?
Sure, the possibility of what might be very small. But no one could say it was not there.
And Alexander, being the prudent man he was, had to take that into account, no matter the minute possibility.
Thus despite his contention, Alexander only let 500 men take the journey.
And then to try and compensate for that, and make sure they had high morale during the inevitably arduous amphibious assault, he had let the much eager Remus lead them.
Which was a mighty good thing he did, as the men were going to need every scrap of it in their imminent conflict.
The moment Remus's adjutant, Piseus saw the black sails of the Heeat family reveal themselves over the horizon, he called out his commander in shock alarm,
"Sir! Enemy ships! We have enemy ships right on our bow!"
This at first caused Remus to get a bit irritated, as he walked toward his man, mumbling,
"What 'ship' are you talking about, you drunken fool? You forgot we burned them all down! Darn hell, nearly burned the whole city with it."
Remus at first thought that Piseus was perhaps mistaking a few small fishing vessels as large, battleships due to his inexperience, but that misconception quickly gave away as he laid his eyes upon the enemy.
Five gigantic ships, each almost twice the size of their own, were sailing side by side, and with their jet black sails unfurled, looked like a huge king cobra threateningly spreading his hood, its venomous fangs dead set on the unsuspecting troop carriers.
And at the sight of this undeniable proof, Remus's heart lurched.
The man very well knew his circumstances- not only were his ships much smaller and outnumbered in terms of number of vessels, but from the looks of it, he was also likely to be even more heavily outnumbered in terms of soldiers.
And this was not even bringing up the matter of quality of troops.
While the Margraves and Sybarians in general were excellent sailors and expert at naval warfare, Alexander's soldiers were more like land animals.
They loved the earth, loved the stability it provided, and even the slight swaying of the boats was enough to get some of them hurling their lunch out due to sea sickness.
To say these men were untested in the skills of naval combat would be an understatement.
And as such Remus quickly determined the engagement was not in his favor.
But so what?
Life was not a fairy tale where you could avoid things just because you did not like them. On the contrary, it could be said to be very much the opposite. πreπππππoπel.cπ¨π
As shown right now.
When Remus turned to shout to the captain, "Turn around! Tell all the ships to turn around! We cannot fight them. Have us return to the harbor,", only a grim and vulgar curse of a reply came spitting out from the mouth of the weathered sailor,
"There is no time! The enemy ships are too close. If we try and swing around, we will be fucked in the ass like a naked whore on all fours."
The imagery conjured by these crass words might have sounded amusing at any other time, but right now, it only gave Remus goosebumps, as his eyes suddenly landed on the long, huge, bronze rams fitted at the front of the enemy's triremes, currently cleaving through the pristine blue waters like a hot knife through butter.
The young general shivered at the thought of exposing their defenseless sides to the enemy armed with such deadly armaments, as he subconsciously clenched his buttocks, blurting to himself, 'I don't want to get rammed. I love my ass.'
The torpedoing vessels were headed straight for them and even a novice like him could guarantee if he was to try and turn now, each and every one of those sailors there would likely break into a sea shanty for letting them have such an easy target.
They would be able to easily drive that enormous metal 'phallus' right into their broad flanks, knowing they would not miss their mark even if they were to become blind.
The wooden planks of the ship would then crumble like a box of cartons under the ramming attack, as the human equivalent of a stake was driven through the heart of the ship.
A single attack would be enough to make the ship a complete write off, or worse, even cause the keel, which was the spine of the ship to snap, thus resulting in a deadly capsize.
Realizing these possible scenarios, Remus quickly understood trying to run away was useless
Hence it seemed that the only recourse for the man was to engage the enemy head on.
And so that was what Remus hastily did.
Thinking quickly on his feet, the young general had the signallers transmit the following order to the other three ships, "Stick close to one another and keep going straight. Meet the enemy head on and do not falter!"
Since flight was out of the question, fight it was.
And the idea here was to fight fire with fire, as like the Heeat family's ships, Remus's deadliest weapons were too equipped in the front.
And they were inarguably better- as these rams were not made of the softer bronze but of the highest grade steel in the world, making them many times stronger, tougher, and deadlier.
Tests had shown that even a glancing blow would be enough to create a good 'tear' in the hull, scraping off the wood like how a spoon scoops up the butter.
While any solid hit would be like being hit with a cannon, punching a solid, gaping hole even through the sturdy structure.
Thus Remus's intention was to use these as his ace in the hole to turn the very stacked odds against him.
Time would tell of the results.
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