Chương 130: We Want the Match!

Jan Žižka's war wagons. Jan Žižka was one of the most famous military commanders in Bohemian—modern Czech—history. He was best known for leading the Hussites against the forces of Sigismund, king of Hungary. To enable largely inexperienced infantry to stand against heavily armored cavalry, he developed a distinctive tactic built around war wagons: the vozová hradba. An strategy actively utilizing wagons, known as the vozová hradba.

By deploying wagons as a mobile shield wall, he gained the upper hand against heavy cavalry. I never expected to see that tactic used in ancient Rome.

"All ranks, forward! Hold the cavalry back!" The soldiers with red armbands shot their crossbows at the charging cavalry. Of course, with heavy leather pouches tied to the tips of their bolts, they could hardly inflict lethal wounds, but the effect was more than sufficient for a demonstration.

"I have never seen anything like that," Father muttered from beside me. I had not noticed him approach until he spoke.

"Using wagons as a shield wall... The Gauls haul their baggage in wagons, but they never employ them in battle like this. Did you suggest this to him, Lucius?"

"All I gave Pompey were the crossbows and the shields." I had no idea he had been planning this behind my back. I watched intently as the wagon fort brought the cavalry charge to a halt. Later generations tended to underestimate Pompey because of his eventual defeat in the civil war. His end, in particular, was neither honorable nor impressive. After fleeing to Egypt in hopes of securing the protection of Ptolemy XIII, he was murdered as he came ashore, and his severed head was later presented to Caesar.

Yet in this age, Pompey truly deserved the name Magnus. There was no greater general in Rome. And this demonstration alone was enough to prove it. I had merely handed him the crossbow, and he had already turned it into the centerpiece of an entirely new battlefield doctrine.

"The crossbows I designed can easily be fired through a narrow slit. Unlike archers, crossbowmen do not need to expose their upper bodies above the wall." With narrow firing slits cut into the wooden planks, the soldiers could shoot from behind cover with relative safety. Father nodded.

"True. Such a tactic will undoubtedly work wonders against cavalry. However, it is not without its flaws," Father continued.

"To employ this in open country, you would have to haul countless wagons to the battlefield. If the enemy strikes while you are still on the march, you could be caught dangerously exposed."

"And depending on the terrain, movement could be severely restricted." There was no denying that. One might assume that traveling by wagon was faster than marching on foot, but in reality, infantry could often move more quickly over difficult terrain. Unlike men, wagons could not easily navigate dense forests or marshlands.

"But if we utilize wagons in a narrow pass, a few hundred infantrymen could hold off thousands of cavalry." In the history I knew, Jan Žižka had routed heavily armored cavalry more than once with exactly that kind of tactic. Leading common infantry and militia to victory against elite armored cavalry was no small feat.

"You make a fair point; it certainly has potential. And no people are more devoted to building roads than the Romans," Father said with a chuckle.

"With proper roads, we can deploy and manage far more wagons than we do now."

"We could also employ them in large numbers along secure supply lines behind the front. In any case, we are going to need many more horses in the near future." With that, I looked back down at the arena. The demonstration was drawing to a close. As the cavalry finally retreated, unable to breach the wagon wall, the infantry waiting in reserve stepped forward.

"Now that we have stirrups and horseshoes, cavalry will become far more important on the battlefield. The demand for draft horses to transport supplies will rise as well." Horseshoes allowed horses to travel longer distances more efficiently, while stirrups made cavalry far more formidable. On top of that, there were still new technologies I had yet to introduce. In the history I knew, the large-scale use of horses for European farming was a medieval development.

"Perhaps a new business venture is in order."

"Are you planning to turn your attention to horse breeding now?" Father asked, handing me a cup of wine.

"But establishing a large stud farm in Italy will not be easy."

"It would hardly be practical near Rome. But there is a region renowned for its horses."

"Gallia Comata. Long-haired Gaul." I nodded at Father's words. The vast territory beyond Rome's province in southern Gaul—covering much of what would one day become France—was known as Gallia Comata, or Long-haired Gaul. In the history I remembered, that region would soon become the stage for enormous events anyway. It was about time I started laying the groundwork there. Just then, the mock battle concluded, and the soldiers from both sides merged to begin their victory parade.

The spectators erupted into applause and cheers at the sight. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

"Pompey! Pompey! Pompey!" I couldn't help but smile as I watched Pompey, drenched in sweat, acknowledge the crowd. He was waving to the crowd, looking happier than I had ever seen him.

"Seeing him that happy put me in a good mood as well."

"Vitruvius! What on earth do you think you're doing? These seats are reserved for senators! We are not even permitted in this section!"

"Hold on! Just a little closer!"

"I told you, we aren't allowed here!" Babu cried out, flailing his arms. He grabbed Vitruvius, trying to hold him back.

"You can look at them all you want after the games are over! Why are you making such a scene right now?!"

"I just need a quick peek!" Vitruvius shouted, one eye glued to the telescope. Nearby, senators and other spectators watched the pair with curious amusement. Vitruvius stared intently at the wagons through the lens.

"I heard many skilled engineers served under Pompey... but I never imagined they were this capable," he muttered. The wooden supports could be assembled with ease. The barricades were sturdy. Heavy chains linked the wagons together. Every detail of Pompey's war wagons was enough to set Vitruvius's heart racing. He tried to squeeze toward the front of the stands for a better look, but Babu clung to him like dead weight.

"Let go of me!"

"You're going to fall into the arena! I told you, we can inspect them up close in a bit!"

"If we standardize the wheels, axles, and other wagon parts—just as we did with the watermills—and divide the work properly, production will soar! Repairs would become far easier as well. If we mass-produce wagons built to the same specifications..."

"I get it, just calm down first!" Their squabble continued in full view of the amused crowd. Meanwhile, down in the arena, two men met face-to-face.

"So, what did you think? Not a bad demonstration, was it?"

"It exceeded all my expectations." I shared a brief embrace with Pompey. Clad in full armor and a crimson cloak, he looked as though he had stepped straight out of a history textbook.

"Though it pales in comparison to what you managed today, Lucius. Putting Metellus in your chariot... you should have seen the faces of the officials presiding over the games. They had absolutely no idea how to react. You would have burst out laughing." Pompey laughed, clapping me on the shoulder.

"You always manage to pull off the unthinkable. By the way, was this not technically your first triumph?"

"Hardly a triumph beside the three you have celebrated," I replied with a chuckle. Compared to Pompey, who had already celebrated three official triumphs, I was practically an infant. Besides, parading in that chariot was merely a theatrical imitation, not a real triumph.

"Do not worry. You will have your own proper triumph soon enough. But regardless, you have thrown the Senate into complete chaos," Pompey said, gesturing toward the stands. Just as he had said, senators and the officials overseeing the games were huddled together in heated debate.

"You broke every precedent. A duel between commanders during the Trojan Games of all things."

"It wasn't forbidden in the rules. Then again, neither was the chariot parade." After all, a duel between opposing commanders appealed perfectly to Roman sensibilities. If the committee tried to declare it invalid now, the plebeians would probably riot. The officials overseeing the games were not foolish enough to ignore that. I nodded, scanning our surroundings. From the Trojan Games to Pompey's demonstration, everything had concluded, yet the Circus Maximus remained electric with excitement.

The atmosphere felt as though everyone was waiting for one final thing.

"Why is no one leaving the stands?"

"They are waiting to see what comes next, of course." Pompey shrugged.

"That gridiron game of yours. Everyone was expecting your team and Metellus's team to play a match today."

"Gridiron?" I choked on my own spit. They were expecting a football game?

"I never said a single word about playing that today."

"But you have been practicing on the Campus Martius for weeks. A massive crowd of citizens gathered to watch you every single day."

"Well, yes, but..." I trailed off. I had never planned to include a football match in today's Trojan Games. More importantly, young nobles running around in front of the common people while playing a rough sport could easily draw the disapproval of conservative elites.

"Why not give them a show?" Pompey asked.

"Every young noble wants the citizens to see his courage and physical prowess for themselves. That is the very reason we fight so bravely on the battlefield."

"That is true, but..."

"Unlike gladiatorial combat, a match of gridiron could easily be presented as military training." Pompey stopped for a moment and clapped.

"Yes, exactly! We need only call it a tactical exercise rather than a mere sport." I sighed, looking at my eager father-in-law. Pompey was being surprisingly pushy. He clearly had an ulterior motive.

"Anyone watching would think you are the most passionate fan of the sport." Caught off guard, Pompey cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Of course not. I merely believe that if gridiron catches on, Roman men will become more accustomed to physical training and military discipline. That is why..." He continued.

"Why don't my veterans join in as well for a quick match? Everyone has already exerted themselves enough today, so there is no need to make it an especially fierce match."

"Your expression tells a very different story." I sighed, then let out a soft chuckle. Well, I had already changed so many things in Rome. Perhaps the nobility would actually welcome the opportunity. But hosting a football match in an arena this large, before a crowd this enormous... I took a deep breath and spoke slowly. My mind was already made up.

"I must decline." The issue was not merely the dignity of the nobility. Just moments ago, a tense standoff had been brewing between the two groups of supporters. We had barely managed to defuse that situation. If we launched straight into a fiercely competitive football match now, the embers of that rivalry could easily flare up again. No matter how thrilling the game might be, it was not something to rush into on impulse.

Looking at Pompey's visibly disappointed face, I added,"There will surely be a better opportunity in the future."

"What? Is that really the end of the games?"

"Wasn't there supposed to be one more match? You know, that game they have been playing on the Campus Martius."

"Exactly. I was looking forward to that." The citizens murmured in disappointment at the announcement that the games had concluded. Whether they had watched the practices on the Campus Martius or merely heard rumors, everyone was deeply intrigued by the game.

"Well, nothing we can do. I suppose it was never an official part of today's program."

"Maybe it was just a hobby for them."

"To be fair, we have had more than enough entertainment for one day." Just as most of the spectators were getting up to leave the Circus Maximus, a few voiced their suspicions.

"Wait, doesn't this seem strange?"

"What do you mean?"

"Look over at the senators. They are all huddled together, talking."

"And? What of it?"

"The games aren't over yet."

"But they literally just announced the end..." The citizens turned their gaze toward the gathering of senators. The atmosphere was undeniably different from previous Trojan Games.

"I know! They want to kick us plebeians out so they can play the game among themselves!"

"You mean... that game from the Campus Martius?"

"How else do you explain it?"

"That actually makes sense." Rumors spread like wildfire that the patricians and equites were waiting for the plebeians to clear out before starting the match. And before long, a new chant reverberated through the Circus Maximus.

"We want the match!"

"We want the match!"