"Excellent," Norbanus said, dismissing the boy. He looked toward the center again. Things were getting desperate there. He checked his own lines. All had been reordered and the men were in the best of spirits. He spoke to his chief trumpeter and the man sounded a prearranged call. Others took up the call. The legions began to move out.
It was a beautiful thing to watch, even with the men having to negotiate the obstacles presented by the carcasses. The Eighth strode forward with great panache. And the Twelfth moved out as soon as the rear line of the Eighth passed them. Then the Ninth wheeled left, the left-hand man on the front line marking time in place while the whole line to his right turned in a majestic quarter-circle until the whole legion was facing due north. The other two legions made their own turns and marched forward on the new front until all were even, presenting a continuous line to the Egyptian left flank.
Norbanus raised his hand and the trumpets brayed and red flags waved. The legions began to move north at a slow walk. Within moments the victorious Egyptians saw that the situation had changed terribly. The left flank began to fall in toward the center. Man crammed against man, body against shield. Men fell and others tripped over the fallen. A dismayed shout arose and panic spread. The Romans came into contact with the enemy but they did not charge. Instead, they just pressed steadily, first hurling their javelins, then thrusting their swords in an almost musical rhythm, gutting their enemies, piercing their throats, cutting off a hand here, a leg there, as calmly as workers in a slaughterhouse. Such was the jamming and confusion in the enemy lines that Roman losses were all but nil.
Norbanus grinned as he saw a group of mounted men detach themselves from the rear of the enemy center. They turned north until they reached the coastal road, then they were pelting eastward at a gallop. These, he knew, had to be Ptolemy's commanders, heading for Alexandria as fast as they could ride. Already, other men were leaving the Egyptian rear and retreating eastward. At first they left by units, retreating in good order under discipline. But the forward lines, engaged with the Carthaginians, were different. As the pressure from their rear eased, they began falling back hastily. When Hamilcar's soldiers pressed forward, they turned and ran, many of them to be skewered from behind. The rout became general.
"Signal the halt," Norbanus said. The huge, curved cornicen sounded and the legions stopped their advance. Disbelieving, the men in front of them who could still move at all joined in the rout and soon all over the field there was little to be seen except men running east in disorder. Hamilcar's light troops and cavalry harried them, cutting them down as they fled, but the troops of the center and the left were too exhausted to press a determined pursuit and exterminate the enemy. Norbanus estimated that three quarters of Ptolemy's army would make it safely to Alexandria. That suited him. He surveyed his fine lines, the quickly recovering Carthaginian forces, and the fleeing rabble, many of which had abandoned shields, weapons and honor. He saw a pair of observers sitting their horses on the crest of a ridge to the east and he wondered who they might be.
“That was well done!” Marcus said, his jaw all but dropping in admiration. "Both the legionaries and their commanders behaved splendidly!"
"I concur," Flaccus said, finished with his sketches and now making notes. "Surely the commander can't be Norbanus. He's not that good. The Senate must have sent out one of the best."
Marcus watched a while longer. "No, I think it must be Norbanus. I didn't think he was that good, either, but he's devious enough to have planned this and pulled it off. I don't know any other Roman of propraetorian rank that clever."
"How do you mean?" Flaccus asked, rolling up his papyri and stowing them in a leather tube.
"He could have won the battle just now, kept up the pressure, kept his men moving and caught the whole Egyptian army in a nutcracker with no escape but the sea. But a great victory didn't suit him. It would have been a victory for Hamilcar. Instead he turned the tide of the battle and no more than that. Hamilcar will depend on him from now on. It was masterful, in its way."
"And you're more devious than I thought, to have figured it out so quickly. Speaking of the sea, how is the navy doing?"
Rapt with the land battle, Marcus had all but forgotten that men were fighting at sea. Out there, all appeared to be confusion as the two fleets were inextricably mixed together in a pall of smoke and a great litter of sinking vessels and floating oars, bodies and other debris. Gradually, he saw some ships backing away under oars, turning and heading back east. Either the sea fight was going badly, or they'd seen that the land battle was lost. One after another, they raised their masts and hoisted their sails to catch the favorable breeze. Soon, such of the Alexandrian fleet as were still seaworthy were making their way back to their home harbor. The Carthaginian fleet did not pursue.
"That's it, then," Flaccus said. "Let's go before someone down there takes an interest in us." Already, haggard, terrified men, some of them dripping from fresh wounds, were passing them in their flight. None of them had a glance to spare for the two Roman horsemen. "Now what happens," he asked as they pivoted their mounts.
"Now the siege of Alexandria begins," Marcus told him. He touched his horse's flanks with his spurs. "Now we put a few of my own ideas to the test."
That evening, Hamilcar feasted his officers and his allies in his great command tent. It was Carthaginian tradition to hold such a feast on the battlefield after a victory, among the enemy dead. The huge pavilion had its sides rolled up, so that the feasters could enjoy the sight of the loot and trophies and the enemy dead, and so that they could fully enjoy the disposal of the prisoners.
Before the tent were piled on one side great heaps of weapons and armor, the captured enemy banners and standards, the loot taken from the enemy camp and the tents of Ptolemy's officers. All had been abandoned in the panicked flight of the Egyptian army.
On the other side were the heads of the enemy slain arranged on poles and racks and when the Shofet's servants ran out of wood, the remaining heads were heaped in a great, pyramidal pile. All around, incense burned in braziers to alleviate the stench.
In the center, directly before the Shofet's high couch, a bronze image of Baal-Hammon stood, a fire kindled in its belly. It was not as huge as the colossi back in the city, but it stood more than twice a man's height, hauled along on its own carriage following the army like a hungry vulture. All around it, bonfires flamed like relatives of the blaze in Baal's fat belly.
Norbanus and his senior officers joined the Shofet as soon as their own men were encamped according to regulations. They were conducted to a couch next to the Shofet's own and they reclined at a long table, somewhat uncomfortably since they had retained their weapons and cuirasses. Hamilcar quirked an eyebrow in their direction.
"I assure you the nearest Egyptians are far away," Hamilcar said. "My cavalry are still in pursuit."
"It is our regulation, my Shofet," Norbanus said. "While our legions are in enemy territory, we must remain under arms." They retained their arms because assassination was not out of the question. Kings had been known to murder successful subordinates, just as a precautionary measure. Norbanus estimated that he and his officers could probably fight their way back to the Roman camp should it prove necessary. He raised his cup. Poison was also a hazard, but it would not do to show timidity here, so he drank. As always, the Shofet's wine was excellent.
The men fell to feasting, and while the courses were brought in, Hamilcar distributed rewards and praise for those who had shown especial valor. His praise for the Romans was lavish, and with his own hands he draped massive golden chains around the necks of Norbanus and his officers, and promised generous cash donatives to the common legionaries. He praised their excellent precision in the spectacular and difficult change of front that had outflanked the Egyptians with such devastating results. He did not, however, hint that this move had not been his own idea.