Chapter 40
First Cohort
The dawn of a new day bathed the spring steppe in hues of gold and green. As the sun emerged, it cast long shadows across the undulating field, illuminating the beauty of the awakening landscape. However, the tranquility was soon disrupted as hundreds of men and horses took to the field.
The four hundred Korelians had marched out from the western town gate and quickly fell into a line formation facing west.
On the right wing, Sir Justin as the Marshal led the first company, comprised of the most elite soldiers – battle-hardened Arvenians, Midlandians, and his small band of mercenaries.
In the center, Deputy Hugo directed the second company, consisting of a small group of Arvenians mixed with Midlandians. The center was reinforced by Roger, one of Lansius' squires, entrusted with leading the fourth company.
On the left wing, Lieutenant Sigmund, also known as the skald, was in charge of the third company, which was composed similarly to the center.
This was Lansius’ new formation. The traditional approach had a knight or man-at-arms leading four individuals to form a Lance. A hundred Lances constituted four hundred men, a mix of cavalry and crossbowmen. However, the traditional formation proved unwieldy in large-scale battles, leading Lansius to reform them at least at the hundred-men level.
These troops of mixed origins called themselves Korelians, as they were now based in Korelia. Facing them in the field was the light nomadic cavalry, advancing from the west. Led by Batu and his brethren, the nomads halted, awaiting a signal from the Lord of Korelia.
From a hill, Lansius ordered his staff to wave two large red flags bordered in black atop two poles. This signal prompted Batu to unleash his nomadic cavalry against the Korelian line. In three waves of forty horsemen each, they rode against the morning wind, with the silhouette of Korelia blocking the sun from their eyes.
The pounding of horse hooves echoed across the plains like a distant thunder growing steadily louder, steadily closer.
The nomads, perched on their lean, swift steeds, braced for the charge. Their faces were set, eyes gleaming with the thrill of the imminent clash. They chanted in the old language of the Caladan Sea Grass from the Great North, their war song stirring a chill down the spine.
Their cries intensified, contributing to the wild energy reverberating across the open field.
As Batu and his hundred brethren closed in on their target, the Korelian line formation reached a fever pitch. Half of them cursed their Lord for this intense training, while the other half relished the excitement after months of winter monotony.
“Close formation, shields up!” the company leaders commanded, trying their best to organize their troops.
Despite being only a mock battle, there was undeniable fear in their eyes as they felt the ground shudder. The sight of hundreds of charging cavalry was nothing short of demoralizing.
“Brace your long spears, blunt end forward,” Sir Justin ordered, echoed by the others. The four rows of Korelian men-at-arms, shoulder to shoulder, pointed their long spears at the enemy. For training purposes, they kept the lethal tips wrapped and staked into the ground. Within a few breaths, the Korelian front transformed into a wall of spears.
Then came the moment of truth. With a shout that echoed across the battlefield, the nomadic cavalry launched their attack. They hurled their training spears at a full gallop, then naturally slowed their horses to a trot and deftly maneuvered to avoid engagement.
The projectiles arced through the sky, briefly casting a shadow against the sunlight. There was hardly time to brace as the blunt missiles, tipped with sacks filled with pebbles and dirt, peppered the Korelian formation.
Despite their circular shields, armor, and helmets, ultimately it was the men who absorbed the brunt of the assault. Many recoiled in pain or shock upon impact.
“Hold your ground, keep your chins down!” Hugo shouted at his men. The veterans around him echoed his command. “Strong hands, strong shoulders, brace your necks!”
The soldiers reeled momentarily under the force of the attack, but they quickly regained their footing. Their shields rose once more, and just as quickly as they had arrived, the battle cries and thundering hooves receded. However, it was only a temporary reprieve, as a new wave of horsemen was already closing in for another attack.
In the face of suffering, rallying cries erupted from the Korelians’ ranks. Their fear and doubt had evaporated. Through their pain, they discovered their valor.
...
The training continued with several variations for two weeks, pausing only for rest or when rain made the plains too muddy and risky for training. By then, Lansius had incorporated the militia from the Korelia populace.
Despite Lansius’ low expectations, the townsfolk arrived in droves, eager and willing to participate. In total, six hundred volunteered for training, providing their own gear while the Lord supplied them with spears and shields.
The participation of the townsfolk boosted morale and intensified training. Lansius himself joined Sir Callahan to train in the newly formed heavy cavalry. Thirty of formerly Lord Robert’s knights participated, along with the Midlandian riders from the previous year’s campaign.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
What Lansius drilled into his men during this training was unforgettable. Most memorable was the practice of orderly withdrawal, a basic but complex maneuver that the men-at-arms rehearsed almost daily. This training also forced the four commanders, Sir Justin, Hugo, Sigmund, and Roger, to coordinate effectively and maintain a good tempo within their ranks.
On the fourth week, Lansius stopped the training. While he still saw flaws and a lot of room for improvement, he understood this was the limit of what a non-standing army could achieve.
He and his advisors contemplated requesting additional training before summer, but they were cautious not to push them too hard. The training was, after all, demanding. It was also a drain on resources, as the army consumed more food and alcohol to keep morale high.
A significant number of bolts were expended during training. While many were retrieved and reusable, enough was broken or lost, resulting in a cost of a gold coin per day for bolts alone. However, this was an expense Lansius was willing to bear because, in Lowlandia, war was the sole currency of his survival.
After another week had passed, the time came for Lansius to bid farewell to the Korelian Nomads. With so many nomadic communities in one place, the grazing grounds were fast becoming inadequate. Their horses, sheep, and goats had grazed almost the entire northern side of Korelia. They also yearned to return to their traditional grazing grounds, where they had left a portion of their tribe behind.
During a modest celebration, Lansius joined Batu, his brethren, and their elders in a feast. Knowing that Lansius had yet to take a wife, they offered several candidates as concubines, as per their tradition.
The proposal embarrassed Lansius tremendously, and he rejected them with a great effort to be as polite as possible. The nomads, too pleased with the opportunity to tease the Lord of Korelia, took no offense. Lansius, in turn, gave them a generous supply of what he could spare as a farewell gift.
***
Ten days after the Nomads’ departure, the rain in Korelia seemed like a distant memory as the sun shone ever brighter. The transition from spring to summer had begun.
Sensing this shift, Lansius poured more effort into his planning, often working late into the night at his worn oak desk. Accompanied by the warm glow of lanterns and the familiar scent of beeswax, Lansius patiently scribbled his strategies, occasionally glancing at a bird’s-eye view map of Korelia.
image [https://i.imgur.com/lvGTlw3.png]
Such a map was a rarity in this era, so Lansius had crudely drawn it himself from the highest vantage point in the castle’s lone tower. Although the map lacked scale, it had proven invaluable in planning his defense.
Lansius had identified a small creek just west of the town that attackers from the west consistently used to supply their camp. It was so vital that he had considered fouling it with animal carcasses or tannery waste, but such a vile trick could be cleaned up by the opponent within a few days.
He could attempt to ruin or divert the water from its source, but the enemy could simply dig wells and establish their camp elsewhere. This part proved to be a big issue as it would introduce an unpredictable element, a wild card he wished to avoid.
While he could inconvenience his opponent by ruining their water supply, he ultimately decided against it, preferring to know where the enemy would set up camp, rather than preparing blindly.
With that issue settled, he returned to his central question.
What can I do? A bait and trap attack?
He began to sketch out a classic bait-and-trap plan on the map, but he quickly realized that it was highly unlikely the enemy would repeat the Lion’s recent mistakes. Lansius suspected that the opposition would avoid his trenches and instead attempt a different strategy.
Moreover, news of the enemy building siege engines was concerning. Maester Caine, the representative of the Mason Guild, had warned before departing that Korelia’s castle and walls were old and not designed to withstand the latest siege engines likely to be fielded by the Three Hills.
Feeling stumped, Lansius leaned back in his chair and ruminated on the situation.
He had secured the cooperation of the sturdy and brave Korelian nomads, but their numbers were concerning. The entire Korelian nomadic population numbered less than six hundred. They could muster two hundred cavalrymen, but even a mere fifty casualties could set the nomads back for generations.
Lansius estimated that there were fewer than two hundred male riders. Half of them were too young or too old to be combatants. Perhaps only a hundred could be relied upon.
Drawing a deep breath, a wave of emotion welled up within him. Lansius had witnessed so much death in just a few years, and now the last thing he wanted was to ask for more people to shed blood for him.
Although he was tempted to rely on his new allies, deep down Lansius didn’t want them to get involved. However, he was short on options. Even with the help of the nomads and the militia, the enemy might still outnumber them.
What Lansius had at his disposal was:
* 400 men-at-arms/ crossbowmen
* 600 militia
* 100 cavalry, geared toward heavy cavalry
* 100 nomadic horse archers
It was a significant number, but Sir Callahan and Justin had advised him that he couldn’t afford a high-casualty victory. A Pyrrhic victory would merely serve as an invitation for another lord to invade Korelia.
Lansius let out a deep sigh before jotting out his plan for tomorrow. The first was to reinforce the ditch as the muddy season was over. He also wanted to make a small encampment in the forest up north, in case he needed a place to hide some of his men or supplies for reinforcement. Then, he also needed to allocate more time to train with his lance on horseback.
Ugh... more lance training.
Physical training was not his forte. Although he enjoyed horse riding, the experience of doing so in armor and helmet, which only had small holes as vents, felt like a nightmare. Moreover, he had to practice fighting on foot in armor, in anticipation of the high probability that he could be unseated and need to battle his way back to safety.
His retainers insisted on these rigorous exercises, to the extent that Sir Callahan was training him daily on horseback. Sir Justin and Hugo also engaged him in sparring sessions. Lansius understood their motivation, but his body was sore and the armor he used was an uncomfortable fit. The custom-made armor he'd ordered had yet to arrive.
With a heavy sigh, Lansius gazed at his rudimentary map of Korelia and its surrounding area. He had made little blocks of wood to represent units, the infantry and the cavalry. He just didn’t know how many boxes would be on the enemy’s side.
The Three Hills was a viscountcy, similar to Robert’s territory, but boasted a greater population and wealth. Although the Lord of Three Hills had suffered many losses, Lord Jorge was young, ambitious, and aggressive. He also had a streak of winning recently. Which made him a dangerous opponent to face head-on.
***
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