"Report! The Persians have left the canyon and are pursuing us!"
"Excellent. How many of them?"
"Approximately six or seven thousand. They seem to be mostly archers and mounted archers."
"Damn Persians! They must foolishly believe they can crush us completely with their arrows!"
"That’s perfect! The more of them that come, the more we can kill!"
"Can Juleios hold them off?"
"That’s why our attack must be swift and fierce!" Clearchus resolutely commanded, "Everyone, return to your command posts immediately, form up, and advance!"
"Hurrah!!..." The leaders rubbed their hands, eager to act.
Artoxares exited the canyon and eagerly arranged his troops in a combat formation, similar to the previous day, with archers in the center and cavalry on both flanks.
Barely two miles past the canyon’s mouth, scouts returned with a report: "The Greeks are advancing straight toward us!"
Though Artoxares was excited, his wealth of battle experience made him cautious. Harassment tactics require maneuvering space, and he did not want to be trapped near the canyon’s entrance. He immediately ordered the entire formation to shift left.
Mounted archers and regular archers are highly mobile troops, but repositioning a 7,000-strong formation already set for battle takes time. The Greeks didn’t give him that time.
Shortly after Artoxares issued the command, the Greek army appeared within sight. He immediately grew tense. He knew well that changing formation with an approaching enemy was akin to courting disaster.
He rescinded the order and restored the combat formation, rapidly calculating: once they fired two volleys of arrows to disrupt the Greek advance, they would immediately retreat left to disengage and look for another opportunity.
However, his expression quickly darkened. The Greek line was long—much longer than his flanks—and as they advanced, their wings continued to extend outward.
Artoxares understood the traditional Greek phalanx. They usually packed their formations densely, with seven or eight ranks, to crush their foes with sheer force. But now, the opposing formation was so thin it seemed to have only two or three ranks. Why would they dare to do this? Artoxares suddenly realized: because his side consisted entirely of light cavalry and archers, the Greeks didn’t need numerical density to win convincingly.
The Greeks were planning to surround him! He had underestimated them! Panic flickered across Artoxares’ face as he hesitated between retreating and fighting. Retreating with an already deployed formation would harm morale and waste precious time.
At least let me fire one volley of arrows, he thought. Seven thousand arrows could disrupt their formation, perhaps even cause chaos. If not, there would still be time to retreat.
Resolving to take the risk, Artoxares quickly summoned his subordinates and carefully instructed them on the retreat sequence.
After finalizing the arrangements, he felt somewhat reassured. Watching the Greeks advance step by step, he decided to wait until they were within a hundred meters before ordering the archers to fire.
Come on, you Greek barbarians, come to your deaths! He sneered. But when the distance closed to about 200 meters, the Greeks halted abruptly at the sound of their bronze horns. Anxious, Artoxares refrained from advancing further, fearing that an immediate switch from attack to retreat would lead to chaos. He decided to wait for the Greeks to attack.
Then, he saw something shocking: behind the Greek heavy infantry, countless arms reached over their heads, swinging in circles.
Slingshot troops! Artoxares froze. He remembered no mention of slingers among the Greek mercenaries—how did they suddenly appear?
There was no time to ponder. Fist-sized stones rained down like hail onto the Persian center. The unarmored archers, who had been ready to fire, were struck, their heads bloodied or knocked unconscious.
The Persian center plunged into chaos.
The slingers launched stones with astonishing frequency, darkening the skies with their volleys.
Artoxares, eyes bloodshot and voice hoarse, screamed, "Retreat! Retreat immediately!!..."
As the bugler prepared to sound the retreat, the Greeks’ horns blared first. Their heavy infantry roared, "Ares!!!", and charged. The entire Greek line surged forward like a tidal wave, determined to engulf the land, smashing any rocks or shallows in their path. Their overwhelming momentum shattered the already fragile Persian morale. The Greek center even split to let dozens of cavalry charge ahead, leading the assault against the Persians.
The Persians collapsed completely! Ignoring commands, they fled in all directions, even trampling over their officers in their panic. The pre-arranged retreat sequence was utterly abandoned as cavalry, archers, and infantry all raced toward the canyon’s entrance with a single thought: escape the terrifying Greeks!
Defeat! Utter defeat without firing a single arrow! Artoxares, who had cheered for the Greeks during the Battle of Cunaxa as they crushed the Persian king’s army, now realized their true terror as he faced their charge. His mind blank, he clung tightly to his horse’s neck while his attendants escorted him toward the canyon’s mouth. Being in the rear of the center, closest to the exit, he and his escorts led the retreat.
Ahead lay the canyon entrance, where the space narrowed sharply, flanked by steep, continuous peaks. The wind howled through the gap, almost blinding Artoxares as he approached.
"Hyah!" He urged his horse forward, knowing that the faster they cleared the canyon, the fewer lives would be lost.
The canyon path was not straight but curved like an "S." For the seasoned Persian cavalry, this posed no issue. They expertly controlled their horses, maintaining speed even around bends.
As they rounded a mountainside, they were met with a low wall of stones and wood, hastily constructed but effective. Unable to halt in time, Artoxares and his escorts collided head-on. Chaos erupted with screams of men and horses.
Thrown from his horse, the last thing Artoxares saw was the rapidly approaching cliff face.
The fleeing Persian soldiers poured into the canyon like a flash flood, packing it tightly. As the cavalry at the front halted in terror, the soldiers behind continued to surge forward.
A horrific scene unfolded: those at the front were trampled before they could rise, causing a domino effect. Soldiers struggled desperately, tripping others, while more panicked troops forced their way in, desperate to escape the Greeks.