Mediterranean Hegemon of Ancient Greece Chapter 978: The Madness of the Carthaginian Convoy

"Give it a little while, and this wind will pick up even more," the old helmsman predicted.

The old captain nodded. "Thank goodness for this southeast wind. Otherwise, we never would have dared attempt something so risky today."

He let out a soft sigh and turned to a young sailor. "Lower the sail."

As the sailor dropped the sail, the old helmsman swung the rudder, turning the ship's eastward-facing bow to the northeast.

The sail fell, caught the wind, and billowed out.

Gripping the rigging lines in both hands, the old captain smiled. "Attention, everyone," he said with quiet confidence. "The ship is heading north. The Daonian Warships will chase us, but rest assured, we will make it home safely."

The crew responded with solemn nods.

Aboard this merchant vessel—thirteen meters long and four and a half meters wide—there were only ten sailors alongside the captain and helmsman, making twelve men in total. Unlike a Warship, it was light in the bow and heavy in the stern. Its narrow front angled upward, while its wider rear housed both the sail and the helm. The ten sailors sat distributed along both sides of the hull, while a towering pile of cargo sat in the center of the deck, tightly secured under a heavy linen canvas.

With a practiced pull and release of the ropes, the old captain shifted the sail into the perfect position. It swelled rapidly, and the entire ship surged forward.

...

"Lord Commander, the Carthaginian Convoy is fleeing north. Straphacus is leading his fleet in pursuit."

Upon hearing the report, Secilian turned to look at the waves, frowning slightly. "Fleeing north... It seems the Carthaginians want to take advantage of this south wind."

"Do we join the pursuit?" the captain asked.

Secilian made his decision without hesitation. "Supplying an army of a hundred thousand Carthaginians requires far more than a mere three hundred merchant ships. If Carthage wants to lure us away from here—no! We stay right here and ensure their next convoy doesn't slip into the Port of Lilybaeum! However, we cannot grow careless. Have the fast ships reinforce their communication with Straphacus. I want to know the 1st Squadron's movements at all times!"

"Yes, sir!"

Secilian's orders kept two hundred Warships cruising the waters near Lilybaeum, while the eighty Warships led by Straphacus chased the Carthaginian Convoy, closing in on Motya.

Motya had once been Carthage's primary military stronghold in Sicily. Dionysius had led an army of a hundred thousand men, enduring immense hardships to destroy it. Instead of rebuilding it, the Carthaginians had established a new military stronghold nearby: Lilybaeum. Thus, more than twenty years later, the ruins of Motya remained exactly as they were when they fell, completely uncleared. This included the causeway Dionysius had ordered built from the coast to Motya. Because of this causeway, the shallow waters between Motya and the coastline formed a pocket-shaped bay. Straphacus concluded that the Carthaginian Convoy wouldn't dare enter it, as doing so would be like catching a turtle in a jar.

Straphacus had judged their course correctly. Having prepared his fleet in advance, he seized the initiative and closed the distance with the Carthaginian Convoy. His Fast Warships even managed to ram and sink several merchant vessels lagging at the rear. This threw the Carthaginians into a state of panic, leading to collisions and capsized ships within their own formation.

This chaos stemmed from the convoy's current position off the western coast of Motya. Further west lay another small island, Aegusa. The strait between the two was less than ten li wide. Sensing danger, the merchant ships at the rear scrambled to accelerate, instantly cramming the entire Carthaginian Convoy into the narrow channel.

But the situation soon improved. After passing this stretch of water, another small island, Phorbantia, appeared diagonally ahead. The Carthaginian Convoy immediately split into two groups. One continued straight while the other veered west, leaving their overboard sailors to unhurriedly swim to the nearby islands.

After learning of the enemy's movements from his lookouts, Straphacus furrowed his brow. He had a good idea of what the Carthaginians were attempting. The waters ahead were littered with small islands and rocky reefs barely breaking the surface. Recently, Secilian had led the Fleet on patrols through Western Sicily to sever Carthage's maritime supply lines, but also to familiarize the newly formed crews with the local conditions. Every sailor considered the waters ahead a hazard zone. During high tide, the rising seawater concealed many of the reefs. Ships unfamiliar with the area easily struck them, suffering severe damage or sinking outright. The new Sicilian Fleet had already learned this lesson the hard way, which was why Secilian had ordered a detailed map drawn of this specific area and required every captain to memorize it. Yet, even so, they could not possibly match the familiarity of the Carthaginians who sailed these waters year-round. These cunning Carthaginians clearly intended to use this treacherous sea to shake off their pursuers and cause them trouble along the way.

After a brief moment of thought, Straphacus issued an order for all Warships to reduce their speed and heighten their vigilance. He also decided against scattering his fleet for the time being. Instead, he would focus on pursuing the group heading straight north. They had to intercept them near the coast and prevent them from reaching the port of Eryx, located just ahead.

However, once the westbound Carthaginian ships realized the Daonian Warships were not following them, they immediately circled Aegusa Island and turned back south. Meanwhile, the northbound group split into two again, veering west one after the other across a rocky reef...

Given the situation, Straphacus had no choice but to order his Warships to break formation. They weaved between the islands to intercept and engage the enemy. He could not allow this largely intact Carthaginian Convoy to slip back south. Even though the main Fleet was stationed there, returning empty-handed after such a long chase would be a humiliating loss of face for anyone—especially since Secilian had explicitly ordered them not to let a single Carthaginian merchant ship escape.

And so, a massive game of maritime hide-and-seek began.

...

Meanwhile, the main Daonian Fleet cruising near Lilybaeum received a report from a fast ship dispatched to the southwest: another Carthaginian Convoy, smaller than the Sicilian Fleet, was sailing straight for Lilybaeum.

"Lord Commander, your judgment was spot on! The Carthaginian merchant ships have returned!" the Flagship's captain praised.

Secilian, however, seemed slightly dissatisfied. "The numbers are a bit low. Order the Fleet to spread out toward the southwest. Intercept them quickly and devour them before the Carthaginians spot us! Who knows, the next wave of merchant ships might arrive soon after."

Just as the Daonian Warships received their orders and began forming up, a lookout on one of the fast ships widened his eyes in astonishment. To his shock, he saw the approaching Carthaginian Convoy shift from a column into a line formation. They adjusted their sails, and the merchant ships suddenly surged in speed. Were the Carthaginians mad?! They should have been able to spot the Daonian Warships from this distance. Why were they charging forward instead of fleeing?! Did they actually intend to fight Warships with merchant vessels?!

What the lookout did not know was that in the center of the opposing Carthaginian Convoy, Captain Baricus was adjusting his sail while shouting at the top of his lungs to the nearby merchant ships. "The time to test your courage has come! If you're afraid, you can still turn back now!"

"I've sailed for decades! What kind of wind and waves haven't I seen? I even followed Morbal past the Pillars of Hercules to distant shores and laid eyes on the Chariot of the Gods (Mount Cameroon)... It's only death! What is there to fear!"

"Well said! We old bones have lived to this day just for this moment! If we die, we'll simply reunite with our old brothers-in-arms in the temple of Baal Hammon!"

"Speak for yourself! Compared to us, you're still young. You haven't enjoyed life nearly enough, nor have you seen enough war. When the Daonian Warships charge right at you, just make sure you don't forget how to handle your sail from sheer terror!"

Baricus threw his head back and laughed. "Don't you worry! My ship will lead the charge, dodge every Daonian Warship's ram, and sail safely into Lilybaeum. I will show the Theonians that the fleets they defeated before weren't true Carthaginians. True Carthaginians are heroes of the sea—heroes they can never defeat!"

"That's right, Baricus! Let's show these ignorant Theonians what true seafaring looks like!" the sailors on the ships waved their arms, responding with fanatical fervor.

Baricus grinned. "Brace yourselves, brothers! The adventure begins!"

He adjusted the sail. Caught by the wind, the small merchant vessel—measuring less than ten meters long, a mere three meters wide, and manned by just eight sailors—shot forward like a loosed arrow, hurtling directly toward the Daonian Warships.

Following his lead, sixty similar merchant ships charged straight into the embrace of the hungry wolves, like a flock of sheep bereft of their senses.

The Daonian captains watched the Carthaginian Convoy's display in utter shock, but they would never afford their enemies mercy out of sheer stupidity. At their command, the Daonian Warships furled their sails. Driven by the synchronized strokes of nearly two hundred oarsmen, the massive Warships surged forward at astonishing speeds. Their dark, gleaming bows sliced through the oncoming waves, constantly spraying seawater across their decks.

The Carthaginian Convoy surged toward the Theonians like a wall of waves driven by the southwest wind. In response, the Daonian Fleet formed a double line formation, their vanguard charging forward in what was essentially a one-on-one duel, as thrilling as a boxing match at the Olympic Games.

Yet, as the two sides closed in, the staggering difference in size became painfully apparent. Facing the Daonian Warships, the Carthaginian merchant vessels looked like infants challenging giants. A single, light ram would shatter them to pieces.