The Francians surged again, and again.
The numbers reported to Julius were clearly understated, as the Francians had attack with 30,000 just the day previous, and now under attack by a reinforced Romanus, their numbers seemed endless, as more men were thrown into the abyss.
They came in waves—mud-splattered levies clutching whatever weapons they could find, grim-faced men-at-arms in mismatched mail, and, dotted among them, gleaming knights whose armor was dulled only by the grime of the battlefield.
The waves would have the legionaries fighting to exhaustion, until another wave came crashing down almost immediately when they thought they could rest.
This tactic was thought to be a stroke of genius by the Francian commanders, but against Romanus who rotated their front lines ever five minutes this brief respite helpt them to reform their lines and prepare for the next wave rather than simply give a chance to breath.
