Victory has an echo. The news of the conquest of Delminium spread through the valleys of Illyricum, not as a song of triumph, but as a terrifying whisper. The tribes that were once restless now bowed their heads. However, in the depths of the dense northern forests, the news sounded different. For the Iapydes tribe, the shadow hunters who considered the forest their kingdom, it was a challenge.
Inside his praetorium, Ulixes stared at the map on his desk. The small symbols drawn by the Egyptian marked a series of lightning-fast attacks in the past week. A grain caravan was burned. A small patrol was ambushed and annihilated. There were no major battles. Just a series of quick and deadly stings, designed to drain blood and patience.
Flamma stood across the table, his face hard. "They are toying with us, Legatus," he growled. "They strike like a pack of wolves, then disappear back into the trees. We cannot pursue them."
"Then," Ulixes said, his eyes never leaving the map, "we will make them come to us."
He pointed to a newly opened trade route that ran along the edge of the Iapydes territory. "They think we will send a larger patrol. They expect us to reinforce our defenses. They are waiting for us to react." He smiled thinly. "We will do exactly what they do not expect."
He turned. "Flamma, summon Centurion Milo."
Flamma raised his eyebrows slightly. Milo was one of the few legacy officers who had survived the initial purge, a man forged in the brutal battles on the Germanic frontier. He was quiet, efficient, and had a reputation for getting the job done, no matter how dirty.
A moment later, Centurion Milo entered. He did not have the posture of a nobleman. His body was dense with hard muscle, his armor worn but perfectly maintained, and his calm eyes had seen more death than most men. He stopped in front of Ulixes and pounded his fist on his chest. "Legatus."
"Centurion," Ulixes said. "I have a mission for you. A very important and very dangerous mission."
Milo simply nodded, waiting.
"I will give you fifty soldiers," Ulixes continued. "And ten supply carts full of wine amphorae and sacks of grain. You will escort this convoy through the Wolf's Path tomorrow at dawn."
Flamma looked at Ulixes in disbelief. "Legatus, with all due respect," he interrupted. "That is a death sentence. Fifty men against an entire tribe?"
"It is not a convoy, Primus Pilus," Ulixes replied, his eyes now fixed sharply on Milo. "It is a bait."
Milo's eyes showed no fear. There was only a flash of understanding.
"The Iapydes are too arrogant," Ulixes explained, now pacing. "They are accustomed to being the hunters. They will see a small, weakly guarded convoy, and they won't be able to resist. They won't send one raiding party. They will send their entire force. They will want to slaughter every last man to send a message."
He stopped and looked at Milo. "Your task is not to win, Centurion. Your task is to endure. Hold them for as long as possible in the Valley. Make them expend every ounce of their rage and strength on you. Make them believe they are winning the easiest battle of their lives."
"And while they feast on the bait," Flamma added, now fully understanding the plan, "the real wolves will close the jaws of the trap behind them."
"Exactly," Ulixes said. He looked back at Milo. "You will be surrounded. You will be outnumbered twenty to one. Most likely, you and all your men will die before help arrives. Do you understand?"
Milo looked at his Legatus, then at the map, and back at his Legatus. He did not hesitate. "It is an honor for a soldier to die in the line of duty, Legatus," he answered in a raspy voice. "Give me the order, and I will give you the time you need."
Ulixes nodded, a genuine respect in his eyes. He had chosen the right man. "Choose your fifty best men. I don't need heroes. I need the hardest bedrock."
After Milo left to prepare for his impossible mission, Flamma turned to Ulixes. "This is a very big gamble," he said softly. "If they don't take the bait, or if Milo falls too quickly..."
"They will take the bait, Flamma," Ulixes cut in, the conviction in his voice absolute. "Because I know how a hunter thinks. Arrogance is their biggest blind spot." He looked out the window, towards the dark forest that was waiting. "Tomorrow, we will teach those wolves the meaning of true fear when they realize that they are not the hunters. They are the prey."
The Guma Valley was a narrow wound that split the forest, flanked by steep slopes covered in dense trees. The air at the bottom felt cold and damp. It was the perfect place for an ambush. And that morning, Centurion Milo deliberately led his fifty soldiers and ten carts right into the middle of it.
He rode in front, his face calm, his eyes constantly moving, scanning every shadow. His men walked in a deliberately slightly careless formation, playing the part of an unsuspecting convoy perfectly. The wheels of their carts creaked loudly, an open invitation to the predators.
They arrived at the narrowest part of the valley. Milo raised his hand. "Rest!" he shouted, his voice echoing. "Refill our water skins!"
His soldiers began to move casually.
Above them, hidden on the crest of the southern slope, Ulixes lay on his stomach. Around him, in complete silence, a thousand of his best Spartan soldiers waited. They were the jaws of the gaping trap.
It was then that the hoarse sound of a barbaric war horn was blown from the depths of the forest. The echo of the sound seemed to awaken the forest itself. A moment later, from both sides of the valley, they emerged.
Fifteen hundred Iapydes warriors exploded from the trees, their roar like the sound of a rockslide. They moved with frightening speed, their faces painted with symbols of death.
Below, Milo did not panic. "FORM A CIRCLE!" he roared.
His fifty soldiers quickly formed a small, desperate fortress around the carts, their shields raised. They were a small island about to be swallowed by a tidal wave.
The first wave of Iapydes warriors hit them. The battle was brutal and uneven. Axes hit shields, swords clashed, and the first screams began to be heard. Milo's soldiers fought with Spartan ferocity, holding back the overwhelming attack. A heavy axe hit a soldier's shield, splitting the wood and embedding itself in his shoulder. The soldier roared, not in pain, but in rage as he plunged his gladius into his attacker's stomach before collapsing.
Ulixes continued to wait. "Not yet," he whispered. "Let them all come out."
He saw the Iapydes leader, a giant man in bear hide armor, laugh loudly as he cut down a Roman soldier, nearly slicing him in two. He saw more enemy warriors coming out of the forest, eager to join the slaughter. The entire Iapydes war force had now entered the valley. They had walked into the trap.
Ulixes rose to his feet. He raised his sword.
"NOW!" he yelled, his voice thundering like thunder.
At that moment, the Roman trumpets sounded in unison from both sides of the valley. The Iapydes warriors, who were focused on the slaughter below, froze. They looked up in horror.
And they saw death descending from the sky.
A thousand Spartan soldiers charged down both steep slopes. They did not run in chaos. They moved like a controlled avalanche, their tight shield walls crushing everything in their path.
Total panic erupted among the Iapydes tribe. The hunters now realized that they were the prey.
Ulixes led the charge from the southern slope. He was the first to reach the valley floor, hitting the panicked enemy's rear. An Iapydes warrior turned, his eyes wide. Ulixes did not slow down; his shield slammed into the man's face, breaking his nose with a wet crunch, and before the body fell, his gladius had already pierced the neck of the man next to him.
He was a storm. He parried a spear, grabbed its shaft, and pulled the spearman forward, using the man's body as a human shield to block two arrows. He threw the corpse aside and continued to advance.
In the middle of the valley, Milo and his battered twenty-something survivors saw their help arrive. With a final roar of vengeance, they charged out of their cart barricade. "REVENGE!" Milo yelled, as he plunged his sword into the back of an unsuspecting Iapydes warrior.
The valley was now a meat grinder. The Spartan soldiers were its steel teeth. They did not fight as individuals. They moved in small teams, the "wolf and hedgehog" formation that Ulixes had taught them. One team defended, their shields locked, while the team beside them attacked from the flank, slashing and stabbing the trapped enemies.
Ulixes saw the Iapydes leader, the giant in bear hide armor, trying to rally his men. Ulixes charged towards him, a vortex of death. He parried a spear, grabbed its shaft, and used the man's body as a human shield to block two arrows. He threw the corpse aside and continued to advance.
His fight with the leader was a brief explosion of violence. The giant man swung his large sword. Ulixes slid under it, his sword slicing the man's thigh. As the giant roared and tried to turn, Ulixes was already behind him, plunging his gladius into the base of his neck, ending his resistance instantly.
Seeing their leader dead, the Iapydes tribe's morale completely collapsed. The battle turned into a merciless slaughter. The Spartan soldiers pursued those who fled, cutting them down from behind, showing no mercy. The Guma Valley was now completely silent, except for the groans of the dying.