By Steven J. Zaloga, Wojciech Luczak, Barry Beldam
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Extra info for Armor of the Afghanistan War (Firepower Pictorials Special)
Rain began to fall toward evening of the first day out of Patrodoton and showed no sign of letting up during the night. At first the rain was welcome, for it kept down the choking clouds of dust the horses would otherwise have raised. But as the next day wore on and the rain kept coming, Krispos felt Progress begin to work to pick up his feet and heard the horse's hooves pull loose from the thickening mud with wet, sucking sounds. In the fields, farmers worked like men possessed as they battled to get in their crops before the rains ruined them.
Barsymes let one eyebrow rise in understated appreciation for the understatement. " "Pyrrhos' will appear first, and he does control the ecclesiastical hierarchy and preach from the High Temple. His words should carry the greater weight," Barsymes said. "That's true," Krispos said. The thought consoled him a little. As it was the only consolation he'd had for the last several days, he cherished it as long as he could. The general Agapetos rubbed a raw new pink scar that puckered his right cheek.
Krispos urged Progress into the river. The water rose to the horse's belly before he was a quarter of the way across. "This isn't as easy as that peasant made it out to be," he said. " Sarkis pointed across to the western bank of the river. Horsemen with bows and lances waited there. More came trotting up while he and Krispos watched. "We outnumber them," Krispos said without conviction. " Sarkis sounded unhappy, too. He pointed out what Krispos had also seen. "We can't bring our numbers to bear, though, not by way of a narrow ford.