“The crossing point is eight miles upstream from our camp. The river is about eighty-five meters wide, and the water reaches up to the hip at its deepest point. The riverbed is a mix of stone and sand, so it’s firm and not too slippery. Our side of the bank is flat, but the opposite side is quite rocky…” Chrysophus concisely reported his findings.

“This sounds like an excellent place to cross! Let us assemble the army at once and get across quickly!” Timasion said excitedly.

“However, we must consider that Orontes’s forces will try to block us on the other side. If we force a crossing, our casualties will be high,” Xanthipparis cautioned.

“The Persians would never expect us to be able to ford the river so easily! If we charge across at top speed, we can launch a surprise attack!” Timasion argued confidently.

“Don’t forget, we still have the Doukias at our backs,” Xanthipparis countered, his voice laced with worry. “What about our baggage train? And the Persians outnumber us. They even have those Chaldeanians. If they can hold us at the riverbank for any length of time, we will be in trouble. Who knows how long the sand in the riverbed can support the weight of so many soldiers?”

Timasion immediately shot back, “Then what brilliant solution do you have?”

Xanthipparis replied, “My point is that we must discuss how to cross the river successfully while minimizing our losses.”

“I thought you might have had a good idea of your own,” Timasion scoffed, glancing away.

“I have a suggestion,” Xenophon interjected. “We could split off a portion of our soldiers to protect the baggage train. When the main army prepares to cross, this detachment can lead the baggage train to the site of the old pontoon bridge and feign a crossing there. The Persians will surely think we are trying to cross at that point to attack their rear and will divide their forces to defend it. Once the main army has defeated the enemy on the other side, this detachment can guard the baggage train as it returns to the main crossing point. This way, we split the enemy’s forces and protect our baggage train. What do you think?” Xenophon finished, a hint of pride in his voice.

It was, admittedly, a good plan. The leaders fell into thought. After a moment, Cleanor asked, “The baggage train is massive. How many soldiers would you need to detach to protect it? If it’s too many, it will affect the time it takes us to break the Persians. And by making the baggage train and its guards march back and forth, you not only risk exhausting them but also make them highly vulnerable to attacks from the Doukias. Have you considered that?”

“Well…” Xenophon was at a loss for words. “There are always casualties in war,” he stammered. “We can only try to keep our losses to a minimum…”

Just then, Davos spoke. “Inspired by Xenophon, I have also thought of a plan.”

The moment he spoke, all eyes in the tent turned to him. Experience had taught them that the youngest of their leaders did not speak lightly, and that when he did, his words usually solved the problem.

“For today, during the day, we will not cross the river.” Davos scanned the faces of the other leaders. Seeing that they were surprised but still listening quietly, he continued, “Tonight, after the Persians have returned to their camps and are asleep, we can dispatch a force to cross the river first and find a place to hide. Tomorrow, when our main army engages the Persians, this hidden force can launch a surprise attack on the rear of the Persian formation. This will throw their lines into chaos and allow us to attack them from both the front and back. Not only can we rout them, but we might even be able to annihilate a portion of their forces, weakening them and making our journey into Armenia and on to the Euxine Sea that much smoother…”

The leaders’ eyes lit up. Davos’s suggestion was, as usual, original and unconventional. In truth, their thinking was still constrained by the military tradition of frontal assault that had been revered by the Greeks for centuries. Davos’s plan, however, was inspired by a strategy from a great red army in his past life, during the liberation of Hainan Island: a combination of small, stealthy crossings by advance units, followed by a large-scale, frontal assault by the main force.²

“Davos, our soldiers have no experience with night crossings,” Cleanor said, his tone much more respectful than it had been with Xenophon. “How many men would you send? If they panic while crossing, it could easily lead to drownings, or even alert the Persians and ruin our entire operation. The Persians would then know about the crossing point we worked so hard to find.” His concerns were a major reason why the mercenaries dared not attempt a night crossing.

“And we must also consider how the advance force will hide after they get across, and when exactly they should launch their attack on the Persian rear,” Timasion added.

Davos answered without a second thought. “For one particular unit, none of the problems you have raised are problems at all.” With that, he looked at Chrysophus.

Chrysophus gave a knowing nod.

That night, seven hundred Spartan warriors successfully crossed the Centrites River under the cover of darkness.

***

The next morning, the mercenary army began to break camp and form ranks.

The Persians saw them and quickly assembled on the opposite bank.

The mercenaries slaughtered three lambs, and the leaders made a sacrifice to Oceanus, the god of the great river. The entire army then sang a hymn in pious unison.

Orontes, sensing the Greeks were about to cross, ordered his army to prepare for battle.

After the sacrifice, the mercenary army began to march downstream along the riverbank. After a few miles, they stopped to rest for a while. Then they turned around and began to march back upstream.

The handsome Armenian satrap, a great favorite of the Persian king, could not understand what the Greeks were doing. He assumed they wouldn’t dare attempt a crossing with his army on the opposite bank and were now wandering aimlessly, looking for another way out. The sight of them scurrying about like headless flies filled him with a certain smug satisfaction.

The Persian army continued to shadow them on the other side of the river.

The mercenaries finally reached the crossing point that Chrysophus had marked. They halted their advance at once. Then, according to their pre-arranged plan, the entire formation pivoted with the end of the left wing as its axis, swiftly swinging toward the river.⁴

Before Orontes could fully comprehend what was happening, the mercenary army had deployed into a battle line facing the Centrites River. The army was divided into three parts: the first was a vanguard of seven thousand soldiers, who would cross the river and engage the Persians, now standing on the bank in deep columns with a narrow frontage (as the fordable section of the river was not very long); the second was the baggage train, arrayed tightly behind them; the third was a force of three thousand soldiers, who formed a rearguard behind the baggage train, their backs to the river, to guard against any attack from the Doukias.

Just as the Persian army was slowly trying to adjust its own formation, the Greek horns blared for the attack. Seven thousand soldiers charged into the Centrites River without a moment’s hesitation.

The color drained from Orontes’s face. He finally understood: the Greeks were going to cross here!

With no time to worry about the mercenaries’ slingers, Orontes shouted frantically, “Quickly! Get the infantry up to block them! Archers! Archers, loose your arrows!” As he roared, he pinned his hopes on the river current to slow the mercenaries’ advance and the arrow volleys to sow chaos among them, causing them to fall and drown in the panic and confusion. After a moment of panic, Orontes regained his composure. After all, he had tested the depth of this river himself.

Perhaps this is my chance for a great victory! he thought, a thrill of excitement running through him.

Davos, positioned at the rear of the right wing, followed the soldiers in front of him, striding forward over the firm river sand.

The early winter water was bone-chilling, but the soldiers, their spirits ablaze with the will to fight, had no time to feel it. Their minds were filled with a single thought: Get to the other side as fast as possible!