He looked out across the field and then back at his formations. The wind was coming in from the west, throwing dust clouds up into the air on his left side. The brown of the dust blended with the armor of the enemy for a moment, blurring them into a single mass that blanketed the horizon.
Alexander turned to confirm the calvary on his left were holding their position and was satisfied to see that they were. The other army advanced on the flank. He looked at his enemies’ centerline, made some mental calculations, and steadied himself.
The moment brought a memory of watching the molding of armor when he was a boy. During his education, he was made to watch the metal mold under the pressure of the maker’s will. Violence would bend the metal and countless strikes, one after the other, would force the metal to give way.
He looked at his phalanxes. They had met the enemy on his right and left. The left was reeling back and he ordered a small formation to reinforce them. He raised his sword to signal his cavalry and charged straight into the center of the opposing line.
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