Chap­ter IX – The Cav­al­ry Gen­er­al begins with a thor­ough look at the tac­ti­cal flex­i­bil­i­ty required in cav­al­ry war­fare. The text places strong empha­sis on adjust­ing strate­gies in real time rather than fol­low­ing rigid doc­trine. One key pro­pos­al involves chang­ing the pace of a cav­al­ry charge—beginning at full speed from the home base rather than wait­ing until mid-field. This imme­di­ate accel­er­a­tion could sur­prise oppo­nents and reduce expo­sure to coun­ter­at­tacks. Swift with­draw­al from ene­my lines was also encour­aged, high­light­ing the impor­tance of min­i­miz­ing risk while still deliv­er­ing dam­age. These prin­ci­ples rest on the idea that unpre­dictabil­i­ty often leads to tac­ti­cal advan­tage, espe­cial­ly against more rigid forces.

The chap­ter explains that com­man­ders who embrace inno­va­tion are more like­ly to suc­ceed. Instead of rely­ing on con­ven­tion­al tac­tics, a skilled leader must be ready to adapt based on ter­rain, morale, and tim­ing. Sur­prise plays a sig­nif­i­cant role, and the place­ment of a few capa­ble troop­ers dur­ing vul­ner­a­ble ene­my tran­si­tions is seen as an effec­tive tac­tic. These troop­ers, posi­tioned sub­tly, could dis­rupt ene­my ref­or­ma­tion and scat­ter their cohe­sion. His­tor­i­cal accounts show that small groups of cav­al­ry, well-led and well-timed, often achieved results out of pro­por­tion to their size. The les­son is clear: qual­i­ty and tim­ing can out­weigh mere num­bers when pre­ci­sion is employed effec­tive­ly. Flex­i­bil­i­ty in com­mand becomes not just a rec­om­men­da­tion, but a neces­si­ty in fast-mov­ing engage­ments.

The author acknowl­edges the unpre­dictable nature of com­bat and the fol­ly of try­ing to pre­de­ter­mine every out­come. War is flu­id, and attempts to gov­ern it entire­ly through fixed instruc­tions often fail. What mat­ters more is the con­sis­tent appli­ca­tion of dili­gence in every domain—physical, strate­gic, and intel­lec­tu­al. The idea that mere knowl­edge isn’t enough with­out effort under­scores the val­ue of prepa­ra­tion and resilience. Mil­i­tary effec­tive­ness is likened to oth­er human efforts, where suc­cess often hinges on the dis­ci­pline to apply what is known. This com­par­i­son makes the mes­sage more acces­si­ble: great­ness in bat­tle, like in life, demands ongo­ing work. When the­o­ry meets real-world prac­tice, only those who per­sist stand a chance at mas­tery.

One intrigu­ing ele­ment of the chap­ter is the rec­om­men­da­tion to inte­grate for­eign cav­al­ry­men into the ranks. This tac­tic is sup­port­ed by his­tor­i­cal prece­dent, such as the Lacedae­mo­ni­ans who improved their cav­al­ry per­for­mance by enlist­ing out­siders. For­eign troops often bring new tech­niques and strong moti­va­tion, par­tic­u­lar­ly when they view their ser­vice as a chance to prove loy­al­ty or ele­vate sta­tus. Their inclu­sion can raise the over­all cal­iber of the force and infuse it with per­spec­tives that local rid­ers may lack. This strat­e­gy also pre­vents stag­na­tion, intro­duc­ing diverse expe­ri­ences into the cavalry’s col­lec­tive skill set. The ben­e­fits of such inte­gra­tion stretch beyond the bat­tle­field, encour­ag­ing uni­ty and exchange among dif­fer­ent pop­u­la­tions.

The chap­ter also touch­es on prac­ti­cal mat­ters of main­tain­ing a cav­al­ry force, such as financ­ing. One solu­tion pro­posed is to gath­er resources from those exempt­ed from ser­vice or from the wealth held by non-com­bat­ants. Such indi­vid­u­als, includ­ing wealthy orphans or cit­i­zens unfit for com­bat, are seen as log­i­cal con­trib­u­tors to the com­mon defense. This approach, while prag­mat­ic, also serves to dis­trib­ute the bur­dens of war more even­ly across the pop­u­la­tion. Anoth­er sug­ges­tion is to recruit met­ics, or res­i­dent aliens, into the cav­al­ry. Their past ded­i­ca­tion in civic mat­ters sup­ports the idea that they might prove equal­ly com­mit­ted in mil­i­tary ser­vice. If well-man­aged, this could sig­nif­i­cant­ly broad­en the tal­ent pool with­out strain­ing exist­ing cit­i­zens.

Addi­tion­al­ly, the author explores the idea of assem­bling an infantry force com­prised of those with deeply root­ed griev­ances against the ene­my. Pas­sion­ate hatred, when har­nessed care­ful­ly, could become a pow­er­ful moti­va­tor for aggres­sive ground sup­port. Such troops might fight with unmatched inten­si­ty, mak­ing them use­ful com­ple­ments to the more mobile and cal­cu­lat­ed cav­al­ry units. The pair­ing of cal­cu­lat­ed cav­al­ry maneu­vers with emo­tion­al­ly charged infantry pres­sure cre­ates a dual-pronged offen­sive capa­bil­i­ty. This com­bi­na­tion could unset­tle even well-orga­nized oppo­nents by attack­ing from dif­fer­ent fronts, both tac­ti­cal­ly and psy­cho­log­i­cal­ly. Emo­tion­al stakes, it is argued, can be turned into mil­i­tary strength when prop­er­ly dis­ci­plined and direct­ed.

Final­ly, the chap­ter con­cludes with a reflec­tion on divine favor as an essen­tial aspect of war­fare. Despite all tac­ti­cal prepa­ra­tion, the unpre­dictabil­i­ty of bat­tle requires a degree of humil­i­ty. The author encour­ages com­man­ders to con­stant­ly seek divine guidance—not just as super­sti­tion, but as an acknowl­edge­ment of human lim­i­ta­tion. Signs from the gods, inter­pret­ed through tra­di­tion­al rit­u­als, offer com­man­ders reas­sur­ance and a psy­cho­log­i­cal edge. Belief in divine sup­port can uplift morale and solid­i­fy group cohe­sion in times of doubt. In ancient war­fare, faith was often as sig­nif­i­cant as strat­e­gy. The mes­sage is not to aban­don rea­son, but to align ratio­nal plan­ning with rev­er­ence for forces beyond human con­trol.

From a mod­ern stand­point, this chap­ter offers time­less insights into lead­er­ship, prepa­ra­tion, and the bal­ance between inno­va­tion and dis­ci­pline. Its lessons tran­scend the bat­tle­field, applic­a­ble in fields as diverse as busi­ness, pol­i­tics, and cri­sis man­age­ment. Suc­cess, accord­ing to the author, is found not through rigid con­trol but through readi­ness, cre­ativ­i­ty, and respect for unpredictability—values as essen­tial today as they were in antiq­ui­ty.