Chapter 20
Fort Hamza was beautiful in its utilitarian design. It was a blocky, multileveled castle structure made of orange sandstone. Great bombards poked out from large walkways which made up the perimeter. The mighty fort was currently being used to house the Baron’s wounded soldiers.
The Baron shook his head as he watched Geidpfeld and whoever the fort commander could spare heal his men. The Jua warriors killed 50 of his men and injured 237 of them, mostly spear and swordsmen, though of course some were more injured than others. All of the 237 men were able to be healed fully, it would just take time.
“Maybe we should have more gunners. Give them swords and focus on sword training with just enough firearm training to be accurate.”
Helmut scratched the back of his head.
“I mean…it could work. It is a bit late to try it, though.”
The Baron shrugged and stood up from his wooden box.
“I say we have time. We are most likely going to wait a few days to begin our invasion. We just need to begin quickly.”
The Baron ran off to find the commander of Fort Hamza, who was in his office inside the fort.
“Yusuf, I have something to request of you.”
Commander Yusuf was a well groomed man of medium build. He wore a blue tunic with a white button up underneath, as well as red harem pants. On his face he sported a long drooping mustache, and sitting on his desk was a tall bork hat. He responded without looking up from his desk. His voice was deep and buttery.
“You wish for more of me?”
“Yes, I do. I ask that you drill some of my men on how to use your native yatagan swords.”
“And why do you wish for that?”
“Because I have been experimenting with army composition. I believe the age of pike and shot is dead, and has been for a long time now. We have just been too roped up in tradition to accept it.”
Yusuf gently set down his pen.
“You, not we. We do not use this style of warfare. A Janissaries duty is to destroy his enemy. A pike wall is too defensive for that purpose.”
The Baron crossed his arms and nodded his head once.
“Apologies for the generalization. And what style of warfare do you use? Remember, I am an ally, I need to know how you operate.”
Yusuf sighed.
“Right. We use Ateş ve İlerleme doctrine. We fire upon the enemy, and then charge into melee. Simple and effective.”
“Interesting. Does such a simple thing really work?”
“Well, there are cavalry and non-janissary troops who do their thing, but fire and advance works quite well for us elites, what with our intense training and enchanted armor.”
“Well, I consider my men plenty elite. Perhaps I shall adopt your style of combat. Or not. Who’s to say? So, will you train my men? I wish to switch some of my spearmen over to swordsmen. They do basic sword drills alongside their spear training, so you are not dealing with fresh recruits or anything.”
Yusuf sighed again.
“Fine. I will train your men. I assume you ask for yatagan training because you have no extra swords?”
“Yes, that is correct.”
“Alright. We have plenty of excess. The Jua have made sure of that.”
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The Janissary drill sergeants were tough, but they were able to drill the motions required for skilled swordsmanship into one's body like no other. After just four days of training a good chunk of the Baron’s spearmen were proficient swordsmen. The Baron didn’t have enough extra firearms to give them all a musket, but those who were given one learned to fire off their shot and charge forward with their sword.
Individual marksmanship, while not completely irrelevant, was not an important part of a firing line. So long as they can aim at the enemy and know to not aim too high or low, at least some of the bullets would hit. Ten percent casualties against one hundred men means that ten have fallen, a not insignificant number of their manpower. The closer you are, the more accurate your volley, and the higher their casualties.
As the Baron’s men were getting drilled by elite Janissaries, the Baron was meeting with Sultan Suleiman the Magnificent and his generals. They all met inside Fort Hamza. The courtyard was cleared to make room for the generals and their entourages.
There were six generals in total, along with the Baron. Suleiman addressed them as the Grand Vizier moved papers around and pinned maps to a wooden board.
“Men, we are going to incorporate Mashujaa wa Jua lands into our own! Our empire will grow, and, in time, we will use the great Jua warriors who have so terrorized our lands to further expand our empire!”
The generals all cheered. The Baron was distracted by a specific general. He was a dwarf, wearing Ottoman noble clothes. His large square hat was almost as long as his body and tapered outward towards the top.
I thought dwarves were Italian. Wait, maybe he just grew up here?
“Our plan to subjugate the Jua is simple, yet effective! Their lands are small and our armies are large! We will encircle them fully and then simply move forwards, crushing utterly any who refuse to surrender!”
The generals all cheered in agreement with this plan. The Baron nodded his head in agreement with their cheers, but never took his eyes off the dwarf, until he turned and looked at the Baron, who desperately tried to pretend he wasn’t staring.
“Now, king Jabari knows we are coming to him, how could he not?! Our armies are so vast that hiding our movements is nearly impossible! And so, we will need to be careful about ambushes. Check the surrounding land carefully before you march into it! Our scouting parties will be vital to our success!”
The generals all murmured in agreement.
“Half of you will move from east to south, the other half will move east to north. After that two more generals will continue moving, one from north to east and another from south to east. After we have fully encircled them, we will simply move forward until we reach the capital city of Nyumba ya Jua! When you reach the capital, you are to wait until every army has arrived to attack.”
The Grand Vizier drew lines around the map to emphasize what Suleiman was saying.
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“We will discuss who gets what assignment later. I will add that the Baron, who is present here, will be working under General Kuçuk.”
The dwarf walked over to the Baron and held out his hand. His voice was extremely deep, and his accent turkish.
“It seems we will be working together. I hope your men live up to their reputation.”
The Baron shook his hand and smiled.
“As do I! Though, we tend to surpass our reputation, on occasion.”
Suleiman cleared his throat to get their attention.
“Now that you have introduced yourselves, I have some very important things to address. If any village, town, fort, castle, anyone surrenders to you, you are to treat them with the utmost care and respect. These people will be giving up their sons for the Janissary corps, afterall, and they will soon be our citizens!”
The generals all murmured in agreement.
“Now, after that is said and done, we are to discuss the minutiae of our plans…”
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A few days after the meeting, December 31st, 1660, on the cusp of the Imperial New Year, the invasion of Mashujaa wa Jua began. The Baron was to move from the east to the south, and then south to west, where he and his allies would meet up with General Demir, and then begin their forward march towards Nyumba ya Jua.
In front of them was a mountain range. It looked small enough for the men to get through easily enough, and in the middle of the range was a mountain fortress. Not large and imposing like those the Empire built, but sturdy enough for any lesser army to break their backs against.
As their armies moved forward, a scout rode back to report to Kuçuk. His partner was noticeably absent, and he was bleeding from a small cut across his forehead. He gave his report in Turkish, which the Baron thankfully understood.
“Sir, there’s an ambush ahead!”
The dwarven general looked him up and down.
“I assumed as much. Where exactly? And how many?”
“Just five miles south. The mountain range there funnels you down into a pass large enough for just five men side by side. I didn’t get a close look, but there seemed to be around 300 men on either side of the pass, with somewhere around 600 men waiting to meet us. My guess is they will perform a fighting retreat into the mountain citadel so the 300 could attack us from behind!”
General Kuçuk thought for a moment before turning to the Baron.
“Do you believe your men can flush the rats out of the mountain?”
“Yeah, we should be able to. Around 600 men should be able to do what’s needed. May I leave the rest in your care? My remaining spearmen and horsemen will have to stay with you.”
“Yes, of course. I will take good care of them. I will send 500 Janissaries to the other side, send 300 or so to your side, depending on how strong you believe your men to be.”
“300 it is, the remaining men will assist in capturing the mountain citadel from the front, as will our cannons. Make sure to treat them well, don’t waste the finest soldiers in the world!”
The Baron gave General Kuçuk a salute and rode off.
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Fergus and Gaius, both with groups of 250 men each, led the rough march through the mountain towards where the scout indicated the ambushes would be. Gaius sniffed the ground and gestured for everyone to stop. He grabbed the nearest man and spoke.
“They are just behind this ridge, spread the word, quietly. As soon as you come back to me we will begin. I will raise my greatsword to signal the charge.”
The man nodded and ran off, quietly spreading the news. Gaius got closer and checked over the ridge.
There was a large camp in a possibly manmade flatland and cave in the mountainside. It was quiet, and the activity was low. They were waiting for the signal to descend down the mountain.
Gaius saw a small tuft of red hair off in the distance wave to him. Fergus’s men were positioned above the camp and he was ready and waiting for Gaius to signal a charge. After around a minute the man came back and, after allowing him to catch his breath for a moment, Gaius raised his sword.
“Charge!”
Both battle groups ran into the camp, screaming battlecries at the top of their lungs. The Jua warriors were completely caught off guard, and many of them were killed by the charge alone. Gaius swung his sword down and chopped a Jua warrior in half, allowing his greatsword to spin him around and lop off the head of another.
Fergus jumped down onto a Jua warrior, impaling him through the top of the head as he landed. He hooked the ankle of another warrior and slashed his throat. Another man dropped onto a warrior next to Fergus, who was just realizing what was happening. Shots rang out across the mountain side as gunners fired upon any target clear of allies.
The gunners with mounted bayonets charged into the camps and impaled men all around them. A gunner charged, but a Jua warrior used his momentum against him, pushing him into a wall and slashing the back of his neck. The Jua warrior turned and parried a strike from another man and kicked him back, his eyes glowing red as he took in a deep breath, engulfing the man in a giant plume of flame. He quickly finished him off as he rolled on the ground, screaming at the top of his lungs.
An Orc and a Jua warrior locked swords and pushed against each other. The Orc was only slightly stronger, slowly pushing the warrior back, step by step. The two men tilted their heads back and headbutt each other. A trail of blood trickled down the foreheads of both of them. From the side a gunner charged and impaled the man through the side, who the Orc pushed down the mountainside.
A Jua warrior slashed Gaius’s stomach, but was deflected by his enchanted Iorica Segmentata. Gaius grabbed both of his wrist and reeled back, headbutting the man horns first. He dropped the now lifeless man and kicked the brains out of another who approached. He felt someone run up behind and jump on his shoulders, using him like a trampoline.
Fergus bound up Gaius and dropped onto a warrior locked in combat with one of his men. He turned and chopped off the leg of another man, who was swiftly finished off by a gunner’s bayonet. He saw a Jua warrior raise his sword to hack apart a fallen man and threw his ax, embedding it into the warrior’s back. He rushed over and ripped it out roughly, sending the warrior falling backwards, following up with a slash of his throat with the ax.
Because of the surprise assault and the mounting casualties, the Jua warriors broke and ran off towards the fort. There would be no ambush. And later, just before the assault on the maintain citadel, the garrison commander met with General Kuçuk to surrender, stating that he would gain nothing by fighting and dying.
The General accepted his surrender, confiscated all of the weaponry in the fort, and made the commander swear a blood oath that he would not attack them from behind. After that, the Ottoman army of the south-east continued south.
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The massive army had stopped for the night, building a massive war camp in just a few hours. It seemed that the Janissaries were just as trained in building as they were in killing, like the Baron’s troops.
The cooks were serving their meals, beef stew with various local vegetables. The Klarwasser mercenaries and their baggage train were mingling with the Ottoman forces, eating and drinking by great bonfires. Even though very few of them shared a language, army life was universal, and nothing spoke better than food and drink.
One of the mercenaries, a veteran who had been with the Baron since the early days, was talking about the worst march he had experienced, the story being translated by a Janissary who spoke Reikers.
“...Yeah, that place was a blasted hellscape. We were given fifty cannons and crews to man them, and the Baron just peppered the area with shot. Because of the rain, the mud was so bad we literally couldn’t fight. Our men got stuck waist deep in mud, and we had to fully abandon cannons and entire carts of supplies.”
The veteran took a long drink from his flask.
“Yeah, they followed us the entire way back, not sure how honestly. I saw men drown in that mud, can’t fathom how they made it through. We gave ‘em a bloody nose though, the dipshits extended further than they should’ve and we closed the gate behind them!”
The mercenaries laughed, and a few seconds later the Janissaries did as well. The man translating spoke to the man in Reikers.
“I have seen mud kill an army’s momentum, but I have not seen it literally kill armies! Such a harrowing ordeal! You Empiresmen are tough!”
The men cheered and the veteran through his arm around the Janissary’s shoulder.
“Damn straight we are. And I saw you guys out there, you’re not too shabby yourselves! Those weird swords you guys use are a force to be reckoned with!”
Men all around the camp enjoyed themselves, despite the language barrier. Some even gave gifts, many Empiresmen received a Hamsa or other good luck charm, and many a Janissary received various holy symbols of the Imperial cult.
Imperials tried to flirt with Ottoman women, to limited success. And vice versa.
The Baron watched as he drank brandy, a massive smile plastered across his face. One of his men, visibly plastered, nearly threw himself over the Baron’s shoulder.
“You seem happy sir, what’s got you smiling so much?”
The Baron chuckled.
“Oh, I just love seeing people happy and enjoying themselves is all. Especially when it’s crossing cultural barriers. Just makes me feel warm inside is all.”
The man further drooped himself over the Baron’s shoulder.
“That’s real cool of you, sir. That’s awesome.”