Mediterranean Hegemon of Ancient Greece Chapter 895: Naval Battle of Thermae (II)

Seeing their situation, the Eastern Phoenicians swiftly detached one warship to pursue the swift trireme, while their remaining four vessels maintained close proximity to the two corvus warships. It was only when they observed the corvus warships veering directly towards the coastline that the realization dawned: the enemy ships intended to beach themselves, a move that would certainly foil the Phoenicians' plan to sink them. Consequently, they intensified their speed once more.

During the pursuit, the Phoenician ships gradually organized themselves into a formation of two ships in the front and two in the rear.

At this juncture, the crewmen on the corvus warships deliberately began to reduce their rowing tempo. This created the illusion for the pursuing Eastern Phoenicians that their own efforts were gradually closing the distance.

Standing at the stern of his vessel, Miltiades’ gaze remained intently fixed on the approaching enemy ship in the rear. Simultaneously, he paid close attention to the lookout’s constant, booming reports relayed from the mast, which detailed the distance between the enemy vessel and the flagship, as well as the intervals separating the enemy's leading and trailing ships.

As his eyes locked onto the oncoming vessel, minuscule droplets of perspiration appeared on Miltiades' face, the naval ram intermittently dipping into and emerging from the water. Then, when the enemy ship was a mere fifteen meters from the flagship, Miltiades suddenly bellowed, “Turn!”

The sailors, who had been anticipating this command, instantly sprang into coordinated action: the helmsman expertly maneuvered the rudder, the rowers below intensified their efforts, while those on the outer side eased their paddling. This precise and unified execution by the entire crew enabled the rapidly speeding flagship to execute a sharp outward turn.

It was too late for the pursuing Phoenician ships to alter their course. The formidable momentum of their charging vessels carried them forward, even as the sailors ceased their paddling.

Then, almost in unison, the corvus warship adjacent to the flagship also executed a turn. Just as they completed this maneuver, the two leading Phoenician warships had already scraped past them.

“Turn inward!” The command was issued simultaneously by Miltiades and the captain of the other corvus warship.

This order was given because the two Phoenician warships following behind, upon seeing the Theonian warship ahead make its turn, had also adjusted their bows and surged diagonally forward, aiming their naval rams at the stern of the Theonian warship. Thus, Miltiades' flagship and the other corvus vessel hastened their turns to safeguard their sterns and angle their bows towards the oncoming enemy ships.

Had the soldiers remained aboard the warship, Miltiades would not have dared to order such risky tactical maneuvers. However, with the majority of soldiers disembarked from the flagship, restoring its former agility, the sailors could finally showcase the fruits of their relentless training. As the enemy vessel closed in, the flagship's bow was already swinging towards it. At that opportune moment, the deck controller deployed the twelve-meter-long drawbridge affixed to the front mast.

“Bang! …Bang! …” With two resounding impacts, both the flagship and its accompanying corvus warship successfully grappled the enemy vessel.

“Hurry! Hurry! Charge! …” The boatswain’s voice boomed, urging the soldiers from the allied city-state, who were huddled within the cabin, to advance.

Experiencing the legendary Theonian-style naval engagement for the very first time, these soldiers surged onto the deck with palpable excitement, swarmed across the drawbridge, and stormed onto the enemy ship’s deck.

“Damn it! Those idiots forgot to pull out the drawbridge!” Miltiades cursed. Despite the boatswain’s repeated prior reminders, the soldiers clearly neglected this crucial step in the heat of the moment, lacking experience in coordinating with the corvus drawbridge mechanism.

The necessity for the soldiers to retract the drawbridge immediately after crossing was paramount. Three other Phoenician ships were positioned nearby, and the closest one was already maneuvering to turn its bow. If the flagship remained connected to the captured enemy ship, they would be left completely vulnerable.

Therefore, two of the flagship's deck operators swiftly traversed the drawbridge – a corvus warship typically boasts five to eight such operators – and engaged in a race against time to retract the spikes securing the drawbridge's lower end.

While the remaining operators quickly hoisted the drawbridge, the helmsman and the sailors concurrently worked to maneuver the flagship away from the enemy vessel.

However, transitioning from a standstill to sailing speed requires time. It was at this critical juncture that the lookout anxiously cried out, “The enemy ship is coming! It’s charging towards our stern!”

Miltiades, his knuckles white and digging into his flesh, watched with unease as the enemy vessel rapidly approached from behind. The desperate, amplified shouts of the rowers, straining to escape the imminent danger, did little to hasten the flagship's acceleration. Transforming a warship from a standstill to full speed demanded precious time, a commodity severely lacking for their vessel at that critical juncture.

Just as the prow of the pursuing ship neared the stern of the flagship, the lookout, clinging to the mast, yelled, “Our warship! Our Warship!!” (In the chaos of naval combat, a lookout would typically descend from the mast to avoid a fatal fall during a collision. However, at this moment, with the entire flagship's survival at stake, such precautions were utterly disregarded.)

Miltiades witnessed a warship cleave through the waves like a swift arrow. Before he could fully register its appearance, a resounding crash echoed as the vessel collided with the enemy ship's flank, piercing it as cleanly as a sharpened blade.

It was the same swift trireme that had previously lured the enemy away. It had drawn the enemy ship into a wide pursuit, then utilized its superior speed to break away and arrive for a timely rescue.

Amidst the wails of the Phoenicians nearby and the cries from those to the rear, Miltiades, his senses still on high alert, commanded, “Quickly! Turn around!”

Yet, the immediate crisis remained unresolved. The Phoenician warship that had been chasing the swift trireme was now in close pursuit.

The flagship attempted to reverse course, but it was too late. Miltiades could only watch in dismay as the enemy ship's bow slammed into the side and stern of the very trireme that had come to their aid.

This particular vessel of the Theonian Navy, shaped like a willow leaf with its narrow hull and slender form, derived its strength from speed but possessed little resilience against ramming. Thus, by disregarding its pursuers to defend the flagship and bravely ramming the enemy, it had placed itself in the most perilous situation.

With the enemy ship ahead obstructing its path, the swift trireme had minimal space to absorb the impact, bearing the full brunt of the collision. The moment the enemy's prow fully breached the trireme's hull, its rear section splintered, and the churning seawater immediately turned crimson with blood.

“Hurry!” Miltiades clenched his teeth and bellowed.

Though the rowers within the hull remained unaware of the unfolding events outside, they relentlessly propelled the ship at maximum speed, their arms aching with fatigue. Still, they gritted their teeth and endured.

The flagship surged forward, lowered its drawbridge, and impacted the enemy vessel's deck.

“Take up your weapons and follow me to charge!” Miltiades commanded into the hull.

The rowers expressed surprise, as their role had always been propulsion, leaving combat to the marines.

“What are you waiting for? Obey the orders!” the boatswain urged.

Comprehending the situation, the rowers seized the spears and swords left behind by the soldiers who had previously disembarked.

“Kill!” Miltiades, his face contorted in anger, brandished the sword he had acquired and personally led the rowers onto the enemy ship.

At that precise moment, another corvus warship, due to a delayed evacuation, was struck from the rear by the Phoenician vessel it had outrun. While the damage was not critical, the ingress of seawater necessitated an urgent sealing, compromising the corvus's speed and maneuverability, leaving it vulnerable to further attack.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

The three ships under Miltiades' command, facing five enemy vessels, managed a four-to-three exchange, a testament to the Theonian fleet's exceptional training and coordination. Regrettably, Miltiades' strategic miscalculation resulted in the scattering of many Theonian ships towards the rear. Confronted by the Eastern Phoenician fleet, they now faced the grim prospect of fighting outnumbered, particularly the corvus warship. Lacking flanking support, the corvus would not only be unable to leverage its strengths but would also expose its inherent weaknesses of slow speed and cumbersome turning.

One by one, Theonian warships succumbed, with only a handful managing to beach themselves.

As the Eastern Phoenician fleet advanced eastward, the returning Theonian warships, sailing west, were like adding fuel to an inferno. Encircled by Phoenician ships, they found themselves in a dire predicament. Sensing the shift in fortune, the Phoenicians began to turn and retreat eastward.

Seizing the perfect moment to annihilate the enemy, the Eastern Phoenician fleet was determined not to let them slip away. Consequently, a portion of their ships was dispatched to maintain a close pursuit.

Although the soldiers aboard the Theonian warships plunged into the sea one by one to lighten their vessels and facilitate an escape, the pursuing enemy still managed to close the distance. Their slow speed on the corvus warships inevitably forced a confrontation.

The naval engagement, which spanned less than thirty minutes, concluded with the Eastern Phoenician fleet decisively defeating the central and rear sections of the Theonian fleet. The majority of the Theonian vessels were either sent to the depths or managed a hasty retreat, with only a handful managing to break away from their pursuers.

As the Phoenician warships pressed their eastward pursuit, nearing the waters adjacent to Minoa, a faint sound of the salpinx suddenly echoed from the waters ahead. Almost in unison, the lookouts on the swiftly retreating, fast-sailing triremes looked eastward and cried out, "Our fleet! Our reinforcements are arriving!"

The captains, their eyes nervously fixed on the enemy ships trailing behind, turned their gazes toward the east. In the distance, a formation of dozens of Theonian warships materialized on the sea, arrayed in the recognizable Starry Night formation, advancing rapidly toward them.

Renewed with vigor, they bellowed to the sailors within the cabins, "Brothers, take heart! Our reinforcements are here!"

Upon hearing this rousing call, the sailors tightened their grasp on the oars, their strength visibly returning. They then maneuvered the warships outward, creating an open path for the approaching fleet's engagement.

Simultaneously, the Phoenician warships became aware of the unusual development ahead. They ceased their pursuit, turning to regroup and establish a defensive formation.

The Theonian fleet, surging westward from the east, consisted of thirty-five vessels from the remaining second division of the First Fleet, out of a total of forty-two ships. This contingent included twenty-five corvus warships and ten fast-sailing triremes, all under the command of Straphacus.