Chapter 6

Pharsalos, Thessaly

Ky crouched behind the stone wall of a collapsed mill on the city’s western edge, looking out on the maze of narrow streets and tile-roofed buildings that formed Pharsalos. The ancient city sprawled across the valley floor before rising toward the imposing fortress that crowned the central hill. Smoke drifted from several points where his advance cohorts had already engaged Eastern defenders.

The first tribune’s horn sounded three sharp blasts from the northern district. Contact established. Ky tracked the movement of gray-uniformed figures as they flowed between buildings, their lever-action rifles already crackling in rapid sequences that distinguished Britannian forces from the slower and deeper sound of fire of the Eastern weapons.

A runner appeared at his elbow, breathing hard from his sprint across open ground. “Sir, the tribune reports the first cohort has secured the outer marketplace. Resistance moderate but organized. Eastern forces withdrawing to prepared positions in the residential quarter.”

“Casualties?”

“Seven wounded, none dead yet, sir.”

Ky nodded, then flinched as a rifle bullet cracked past his position, splintering stone fragments from the wall. An Eastern sniper had spotted his command post. He shifted left, keeping low, as two more shots rang out from a bell tower four hundred meters to the northeast.

“Sergeant Kellor,” Ky called to his senior non-commissioned officer. “Detail two men with rifles to suppress that tower. Third window from the left.”

The sergeant acknowledged his command with a sharp nod. Within thirty seconds, rifle fire began hammering the bell tower’s stone frame. The enemy sniper’s shooting ceased.

Ky nodded, returning his attention to the urban battlefield. This had become the new style of battle, as the Easterners set up strong points in cities and villages, abandoning trench warfare. They were still withdrawing too quickly to establish solid positions, and cities were almost as good as the trenches, where every building was a pillbox.

Had the Britannians been more ruthless and accepted leveling every city to the ground with artillery, they might have had to find a new tactic, but Greece was part of Europe and a people the Western Alliance would have to deal with for decades to come.

It would not help their cause to level every city and then ask to be friends.

A tremendous crash echoed from the northern district as the first cohort brought down a barricade with explosives. Dust clouds billowed above the rooftops, and the tempo of rifle fire increased sharply.

Eastern troops were repositioning, abandoning their forward positions to establish new defensive lines closer to the fortress hill.

The second runner of the morning appeared, this one from the southern approach where his third cohort had been probing the enemy positions. The man’s left sleeve showed fresh bloodstains.

“Contact with the enemy at the warehouses. They have artillery in the buildings and are firing into the open streets,” the man reported.

With explosive shells and straight-firing cannons, that was going to be a problem. From his position, Ky could see that there was a break between the warehouses and the rest of the city, probably meant for protection from fires, but it also meant open ground his men must cross to storm the fortified buildings.

“Tell the tribune to hold position and mark those gun positions. Do not advance until further orders. Runner,” Ky called, looking behind him. “Go to Battery C and order them to fire on the warehouses. He is to keep his fire contained to just the warehouses. Limit spreading out the fire.”

Another horn call, this time from the eastern approach where the second cohort advanced along the main thoroughfare. The sound carried a different note, contact under heavy fire. Ky shifted his attention toward that sector and immediately saw the problem. Eastern soldiers had barricaded themselves in a cluster of two-story stone houses overlooking the avenue, creating interlocking fields of fire that caught his men in a deadly crossfire.

“Runner, find the tribune of the second and tell him to pull his cohort back fifty meters and await further orders. They’re walking into a prepared killing ground.”

The messenger departed at a sprint. Ky studied the eastern district more carefully, noting how the defenders had positioned themselves. The buildings formed natural choke points, forcing his troops to advance through narrow spaces where their numerical advantage meant nothing. Smart. The Easterners had quickly become masters of urban warfare.

Rifle fire erupted from three directions simultaneously as his scattered cohorts pressed their attacks. Ky watched through his field glasses as a squad of his men stormed a baker’s shop, disappearing through the doorway only to emerge moments later dragging two wounded comrades. Gray smoke poured from the building’s upper windows.

Slowly, the buildings were cleared, although not without casualties. His men were being made to pay the price for each building they took.

Back at the warehouses, the artillery was doing its job and was pounding the warehouses heavily. The first salvo struck the warehouse district with devastating effect. Fused shells burst against the wooden structures, sending splinters and debris cascading across the defensive positions.

The second volley found its mark with even greater accuracy. Shells punched through the warehouse roofs before detonating inside, the black powder charges turning the interiors into a shrapnel-filled hell. An Eastern cannon position disappeared in a cloud of smoke and debris as a shell struck their ammunition stores. The explosion rippled through the building, collapsing an entire section of the structure.

Return fire from the Easterners’ positions grew sporadic as the bombardment intensified. Their riflemen, pressed flat behind whatever cover remained, found themselves unable to maintain coordinated volleys. The Britannian gunners adjusted their range with each salvo, walking their fire methodically through the warehouses.

Within twenty minutes, the warehouse district stood largely abandoned, smoke rising from a dozen separate fires. The Easterners had pulled back to their inner fortifications, leaving behind cannon too damaged to move and ammunition they could no longer safely transport.

He was about to issue additional orders when his attention was drawn by the booms of artillery. Ky’s head snapped toward the fortress as smoke billowed from the ancient walls. A shell screamed overhead and exploded in the street behind his observation post, showering debris across the mill ruins.

Another shell burst among the buildings where his northern cohort fought, collapsing part of a workshop roof. Ky could see his men scrambling for cover as Eastern cannons began a systematic bombardment of the lower city. The elevation gave the fortress artillery a commanding view of every street and square where Britannian forces advanced.

“Sir!” The centurion pointed toward the eastern district where a building suddenly erupted in flames. “They’re setting fire to the structures rather than let us take them intact.”

Ky cursed under his breath. They might be hesitant to raise a city to the ground, but the Easterners didn’t seem to mind. Worse, it slowed his men down as they tried to get around the fires, making them targets for the artillery on the hill. His troops were pinned down in a burning city under accurate artillery fire from an elevated position they couldn’t reach.

“All artillery batteries are to shift fire to the fortress. Bring it down,” Ky ordered.

As the runner departed, another shell burst near the northern cohort’s position. Ky could see that his men were pinned down, unable to advance, while the Eastern cannons commanded the streets. The fortress had to be neutralized before his infantry could complete their mission.

A few minutes later, the first Britannian cannon answered, sending its shell arcing toward the fortress. Ky watched the projectile’s flight until it struck the outer battlements in a shower of stone fragments. Eastern cannons replied immediately, but their shots fell short of the Britannian artillery position.

“Good range,” Ky said. “Order all guns, commence firing. Target the gun embrasures and outer walls.”