“Coordination is key to many victories. In general, the side that manages to have their soldiers move better to their command would have a great advantage over their foes. This lesson is one I learned from my youth, and it has never failed me since.” - Scipius Cornelius Barca, famed general from the Republic of Caroma, circa 45 FP.
“We have the signal, gentlemen,” said Miriel from where she stood atop a watch tower on the east side of the sixth wall of Levain. The old half-elven lady insisted on keeping a close eye on the defenses, and was always close to the frontlines herself. Oftentimes younger officers would be worried about her as Miriel would sometimes stroll the wall despite the enemy’s arrows raining upon them, but while she was slowed by age, the old woman had centuries of experience and well-honed reflexes.
She knew which arrows she needed to avoid and which would have never hit her to begin with at a glance. As such, while her junior officers raised shields to cover themselves from the enemy’s arrows, the old lady would just stroll as if the wall’s walkways were her own backyard, occasionally swaying a bit to the side to avoid an arrow that happened to be headed for her. Despite the fact that she walked with the aid of a cane.
It was quite a morale boost for the militia that saw her confident attitude, to say the least.
Thanks to Hannah and her platoon’s message delivery, the forces outside were able to coordinate with those inside and even planned things out together. They had prepared for various contingencies, and apparently the situation was right for one of them, at least according to the signal Miriel noticed. Now all she had to do was to follow the plan.
“Move out, and make some noise while you’re at it, but don’t overdo things. Remember, we want them on guard against us and guarding against a sally, not to get ourselves hurt while doing so,” she added, chastising the younger officers in the tower – which was pretty much all of them considering her age – about the plan to follow. “Now go out there and make sure they know we’re out and about to get them!”
A chorus of “Yes, Ma’am!” answered her call and after a few minutes, the southern and eastern gates of the sixth wall opened wide to unleash a deluge of militiamen. Tens of thousands of militiamen rushed out of the gates in a raucous way, which pretty much ensured that their foes would hear them coming unless they were deaf.
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That was the intention after all. While the main army outside engaged the Podovnian army in battle, if they were at an advantage, then the militia within the city would create a diversion to keep the Anduilleans engaged with the siege, and thus unable to come to the aid of their allies right when their weight of numbers might have swayed the results of the battle.
The Levainian militia were poorly trained still, true, but they had numbers on their sides, so their enemy had no choice but to be wary of them. Sure enough, the Anduilleans intensified their arrow fire and aimed for the sallying militia shortly after they made the sortie. For their part, the militia simply raised their shields and weathered the arrow rain calmly.
From time to time, a large group several thousand in size would make a show of trying to cross over the wall of rubble that separated them from the Anduillean army, only to be “pushed back” by the latter’s counter offensive. Such a scene repeated itself regularly, while other militiamen from the walls rained arrows of their own at the Anduilleans, whose archers were occupied with pinning down the sallying group and thus unable to harass those at the walls.
As a result, even when messengers from the Podovnians managed to reach the Anduillean lines to request aid, the Anduilleans found themselves unable to divert their troops from the siege, as the sallying militia threatened to flood over the pile of rubble that separated them at any moment. That left them caught at an impasse, but ultimately, the Anduilleans chose to look out for themselves first.
They stayed put and did not send any troops to the raging battle happening in the south.
Such a reaction was perfectly in line with what Reinhardt, the Caroman Marshals, and Miriel herself had predicted would happen. She had noticed from early in the siege that the Anduilleans were nowhere as enthusiastic as the Podovnians. It was almost as if they were just coming along for the ride, there to share in the profits but not wishing to truly risk themselves.
It was a very exploitable flaw in an enemy, much less one in an alliance of benefits with another. The coordinated action practically ensured that the Podovnian army in the south had to deal with the battle on their own, as nobody would come to their aid. It was a risky strategy as even on their own, the Podovnians still outnumbered the joint Caroman and Levainian reinforcements, but it was a risk they decided to take.
Because when it came to pitting generals against each other, Miriel would bet on the two Caroman Marshals any day of the week. The two were practically notorious thanks to the many glorious victories they scored over the last couple of decades, and since Podovniy likely never faced them in battle before due to their geographical location, they might have taken them lightly.
Which was a fatal mistake the Marshals would surely pounce at like a leopard preying on an innocent fawn.
Miriel knew that she wouldn’t be a direct part of any glorious victory to be had, but she was fine with that. She would just keep the city she lived in for most of her life safe from harm as she always did for centuries, and allow those fighting for it to do so unhindered. Her people will keep the Anduilleans occupied by the city itself, while the others strive to win the war.