Get your own Free HomepageFrom the Chronicles of the Nobades:
Dawn rose.
She then dressed and left the tent of Jafar Taha, mighty King of Nobatina. His appetite for Byzantine noble women was legendary and some of them he didn't have to pay for (especially if he drugged them first...), but that's another story.
Striding to the flat of his tent and peering out into the valley, the comforting smell of a hundred thousand latrines assaulted his nose. "Salted lamb and cous-cous? Good, that means the lads didn't desert during the night".
He wandered off to the staff tent for a strong cup of that funny drink the Abyssinians imported from the south, "koffie" did they call it? Whatever magic potion this was it made the hangover disappear and that was good.
This would be a great day for the forces of Nobatia (Christian Nubians) to revenge themselves on the evil roman aggressors (actually Early Byzantines). The staff meeting looked wretched as he entered, the faces of last night looked pained and sickly from too much wine, non more so than Bashir Keira, but his gout had become steadily worse during the campaign. "Bashir, you better command the warband today, then you can ride in your big girl's litter". Bashir laughed dutifully, but silently: "you b*****d". The short dangerous one - Dahab Nimieri could command the archers, the man was clearly mad, but he inspired the troops and if anyone could make them stand in the open and wait for the roman cavalry it was him. Jafar then turned to his Abyssinian allies - Kaleb Tadesa and where was the other one? Some half remembered conversation about a bet was offered and then the messenger arrived, "O mighty king, the Abyssinian is definitely not in the camp, and his bodyguards are all missing too."
"Damn the treacherous son of a camel. Never mind, on to business".
The camp lay on the right bank of the Nile, between it and a large areas of steep hillocks, beyond them lay an area of flat pasture ideal for the camels and some more hillocks and then the edge of today's world. The nubian archers would be positioned on the left with the warband behind them, the camels and cavalry would be on the right behind the Abyssinian warband - Yacob would have to run both Abyssinian commands as one today until they could find the deserter.
As deployment commenced it became clear that the Romans had stationed their foot opposite our bows, their cavalry covered the middle and some low-life moors with more light horse than I had ever seen covered the right. Their army was so huge it had difficulty fitting on the battle field. This would be a bloody battle indeed.
Jafar walked towards his camel and tried to mount. It spat at him. He beat it, it spat at him again. He gave up, only to be rewarded by another glob of camel phlegm as he walked away. "I shall ride with the cavalry today I think - Ahmed! My horse".
Kaleb meanwhile had gathered together all the Abyssinians. Nervous at the best of times, he was worried by the disappearance of his much rasher colleague. "OK lads, nothing too serious for now, let's take it slow and see what happens", his inspirational speech dulled the natural impetuosity of these brave boys and they sat down and started gambling.
Off to the left however the battle was hotting up. The Byzantines were suffering from bow fire and the nobatine warband, tired of watching were pushing through them in an attempt to get to grips with the legions.
Whilst far, far away...
Yacob Jifar looked up at the tree. What had he drunk? Some vague memory
about a bet...winning the battle single-handedly...waking his command at
two in the morning... a long march...no sleep. He was now sober, very
angry, very lost and what was worse, he only had a few dozen warriors
with him, his entire command must still be in the camp!
He looked up at the tree again, the scout perched in the highest branches was yelling and pointing "that way" Yacob grimaced and set off.
Back on the left, the warband made short work of the legions and the Byzantine flank fled. "Good work lads" cried Bashir looking round "Lads? Lads? Hey! Come back!" he yelled after his own fleeing troops. Then seeing the Byzantine C-in-C resplendent in flowing purple charging down the hill towards him, Bashir's gout miraculously cured itself as help leapt from his litter and frantically legged it towards safety.
But the deed was done, and news had spread to the unreliable Abyssinians. "If a bunch of Nubians can kick a***, then so can we" was the battle cry. "Up and at them boys!" The Abyssinians pondered forward, but immediately became worried by a tiny group of horsemen. But being the brave souls they are, a select group volunteered to run behind the cavalry and cut off their retreat as the rest of the band hit them frontally. The plan worked beautifully and the mounted foe evaporated. But they'd tasted blood and the sight of their former general Yacob arriving in the rear of the roman flank gave them heart, and as Jafar's camels charged through their ranks, they joined in and hurled themselves at the enemy. The select band responsible for destroying the light horsemen were the first to reach, hopelessly outnumbered they set a brave and heroic, albeit short example, but the Nobatine camels were into the fight now.
But the left flank was disintegrating into a chaotic melee with high casualties all round, Dahab's bodyguard was run over by the roman cavalry, but hidden from view of the main battle no-one really noticed. Only the moors now looked uncertain, they stood around not really making much effort until some mad camelry hit them in the flank, and although outnumbered, other camelry rode continued to butcher the moors.
In the distance Yacob's troops died unnoticed after charging a clump of inferior looking peasants.
But the pressure of the warbands and camel mixed formation (there was
no controlling any of them now) proved too much fro the Romans and they
broke in panic, some fled but others were slaughtered by the battle-mad
camel riders of Nobatina.
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