Chapter 23
After meeting up with the army of General Demir on January 6th, 1661, exchanging information and stories on battles fought and to be fought, General Kuçuk’s army began to march towards the capital city of Nyumba ya Jua. Almost every town and village in the direct path of his army surrendered immediately, as they had all heard the fate of Kisa. And those who refused to surrender were dealt with swiftly and mercilessly.
General Kuçuk heard that around five hundred men were coming to harass them and sent a detachment, mostly of the Baron’s men, to intercept them. The force was made up of around five hundred of the Baron’s men, mostly gunners and swordsmen, as well as one hundred and fifty Janissaries, led by Ludwin. A cavalryman rode up to Ludwin and saluted.
“The enemy is a few miles out. On these plains we should be able to see each other soon. And as far as I could tell, Kuçuk’s information was accurate, around 500 men.”
Ludwin thought for a moment.
“We will meet them on the field. We have numerical superiority, the men will spread out and encircle the enemy. Firstly they will be in a thick column to hide our numbers a bit, and when they get close the men are to spread out and charge. The cavalry will finish the circle and slam into their flank. Spread the word.”
The cavalryman saluted and rode off to spread the word.
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Soon, both armies could see each other.
The Jua had a few elite heavily armored warriors, but most of the 500 men were obviously conscripts. Most likely they would make up for their poor training with fervor in protecting their homeland.
Fervor doesn’t stop a bullet, though.
As the armies arrived just outside of musket range, Ludwins men began to fan out. After a few moments, the enemy began to fan out as well. As soon as Ludwin’s men were fully extended, and within musket range, they fired. A volley of over one hundred and fifty muskets was sure to damage the morale of any army, but the Jua warriors barely even slowed down, simply stepping over the bodies of their fallen comrades.
After marching closer and exchanging places, the next volley fired, another one hundred and fifty musket balls sent flying towards the enemy. More of the enemy dropped and were roundly ignored by their comrades. Ludwin’s swordsmen moved to the front, alongside the Janissaries with their yataghan drawn.
As the two sides neared each other, the cavalry made their way behind the enemy. They rode far to either side of the engagement, hoping that the enemy would be so focused on the threat in front of them that they would not notice the cavalry.
At around 100 yards, both sides began to charge, quickly eating up the remaining distance. Soon, the two armies clashed. The clash was strangely muffled, the sound of swords being deflected off enchanted wicker shields was far quieter than it would have been if they were metal.
Since the Jua warriors fanned out in an attempt to match Ludwin’s forces, the encirclement was less effective than it could have been. They managed to get around the Jua warriors a bit, but it was a far cry from the kind of encirclement Ludwin had wanted. However, even without the encirclement, the fight was obviously going towards Ludwin.
The elite infantry of the Klarwasser Mercenary Company and the Janissary Corp tore through the poorly trained militia and their highly trained leaders. The conscripts, or more likely volunteers, fought hard, but they simply were not trained adequately enough on how to work together. They fought as individuals, while Ludwin’s men fought as a unit.
The end of the fighting came swiftly after the cavalry finally charged into the backs of their enemy. Even if they knew the cavalry was coming, there was nothing they could have realistically done about it. Ludwin waited for a sign that the enemy would surrender, but they never did. Ludwin simply watched as the enemy fought to the last, and his men slaughtered them. He had to applaud their bravery, but he felt a strong sense of melancholy as he knew that these men gave their lives in vain.
The men gathered what was useful from the dead, in enemy territory one could not afford to be stingy about such things, and left the battlefield, linking back up with the main army fairly quickly. Overall, the battle of Nbaza plain claimed the lives of six hundred and sixty eight men. Five hundred thirteen from the Jua warriors, their entire force, and one hundred and fifty five from Ludwin’s men. The number would have been far lower had the enemy not fought to the last. Untrained men with a deathwish are far more dangerous than trained men who value their lives above all else.
The Baron rode over to Ludwin and slapped his shoulder.
“Hey! How was the battle?”
Ludwin frowned slightly.
“It went poorly. I may have won, but there was massive loss of life.”
The Baron shrugged.
“Loss of life is to be expected. From what I hear, those men wanted to give their lives for their country. Who are you to deny them that? You should feel proud that you were able to send so many souls to our father in heaven.”
“You know I don’t believe in that Chrisitan stuff. My patron god is Albrecht.”
“Yes, I’m aware. Oh, is that where your name comes from?”
Ludwin waved his hand dismissively.
“No. That’s purely coincidental.”
The Baron shrugged his shoulders again.
“Alright, I’ll take your word for it. But I would look into that if I were you. There ought to be an interesting story there.”
“Yeah, yeah. Don’t you have…planning to do or something?”
“Not really. There’s just a single town in between us and Nyubma, and I doubt they’re going to oppose us. And if they do, well, they seem to be smaller than Kisa, I doubt they’ll last too long. After that, well, I’ve just got to talk to Suleiman about our coalition.”
“Then shouldn’t you be planning that instead of bothering me? Go negotiate with the governor or something. Talk to people, do what you’re good at.”
The Baron tapped the hilt of his saber.
“What I'm good at, is killing. Talking is just the nonsense I have to do to justify it.”
Ludwin’s eyes widened a bit.
“I thought you tried to avoid bloodshed?”
The Baron shrugged.
“I do. Not everything has to make sense, especially the inner workings of the mind. Now, go get some rest. We’ve got some work ahead of us.”
Ludwin scoffed and rode off. The Baron shrugged his shoulders and rode back to the front of the column.
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The forces of General Kuçuk and General Demir were the first to arrive at the capital city of Nyumba ya Jua, on January 11th, 1661. They camped a few miles out, just within sight. General Kuçuk estimated that the rest of the Ottoman forces would arrive in a week, which gave the men time to rest, train, and occasionally relax.
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Later that night, General Kuçuk approached the Baron as he was out gazing at Nyumba ya Jua.
The Baron thought the sight of it was breathtaking. It only made sense that a nation most likely based on sun worship would find a way to light up their city at night. The entire city was illuminated by beautiful, vibrant multicolored lights, most likely fires fed different chemicals to change their colors, so far as the Baron could tell.
The light show was breathtaking, and it only accentuated the beauty of the city itself. The whole thing was most likely inspired by Nubian style architecture, or possibly just built by reincarnated Nubians. The walls were largely composed of a light tan stone, with large portions of dark gray stone added to allow for the various different shapes to pop. Above the gates was a giant sun created by creating the outline with gray brick.
General Kuçuk rode over to the Baron as he lay on the ground, head propped up by his cuirass. The Baron spoke without looking away from Nyumba ya Jua.
“General Kuçuk, so nice of you to join me. I do hope that the Ottomans allow them to continue this lightshow after they have been conquered. I have never seen anything like it. Fitting, that a city named ‘Home of the Sun’ would be lit up at night, and such a shame that we have to spill blood over it.”
General Kuçuk jumped down from his horse.
“Yes, such a jewel will make a nice addition to our empire.”
“Yes, I imagine so. I would do something similar for Bickenstadt, if I could afford it. They most likely have a site nearby where they find the minerals to create such beautiful flames, we have nothing of the sort in Bickenstadt. Our wealth lies in the sea, with the fish and corals, that sort of thing.”
“My, you are quite talkative. Are you always like this?”
The Baron grinned.
“Who’s to say? I prefer to allow others to describe my character. Anything else feels like hubris.”
“Interesting. You prefer to speak through action, no? Though I have found that men of action tend to actually speak quite often.”
“Oh? Well, perhaps those whom history deems ‘great men’ share similar personalities. That’s a question for some sort of sociologist, maybe a psychologist.”
“I know not what those words mean. Do not tell me what they mean, it is of no importance to me. What is of importance is your intentions here, your intentions with the empire of which I have dedicated my long life to. You spoke of ‘great men.’ Well, in my experience, great men do not act as simple sellswords.”
The Baron tapped his stomach rhythmically.
“You think I’m a great man? I’m flattered.”
The Baron craned his neck over towards Kuçuk's horse.
“What do you think? You, the one in dark blue.”
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A figure showed itself from behind Kuçuk’s horse. It was holding a musket wrapped in dark blue cloth. As the figure began to raise its musket Kuçuk gestured for him to stand down.
“What gave him away?”
The Baron rolled his eyes at Kucuk before going back to admiring the city walls.
“I am a hair's breadth away from openly defying the Empress, and she is a hair’s breadth away from ordering my death. I’m used to this sort of thing. Your men are not nearly as good as Brusilov’s.”
“My, you have told me far more than I suspected you would. Just as I said you would.”
“Yes yes, great men love talking about themselves. Who doesn’t? Let an old man posture!”
Kuçuk stifled a chuckle.
“I am 127 years old.”
The Baron eyed Kuçuk annoyedly.
“Yeah, but I’m human and you’re a dwarf, you’re functionally younger than me, what with your 275 year life expectancy. Why don’t you go bake some…well I guess that doesn’t apply to you, does it?”
Kuçuk eyed the Baron quizzically. After a few moments he gestured for the Baron to continue the thought.
“Oh, right, I guess it really doesn’t apply to you. In the Empire there’s a stereotype with dwarves being chefs, there are a lot of sociological reasons behind it, most of them having to do with Imperial laws around nonhumans pertaining to professions. long story short, it was really easy for dwarves to become chefs in the Empire because of some sloppy legal work. It’s a great story, really. Something similar happened with elves and construction work, though of course that story is far less light hearted, as depending on where you go they are literally enslaved.”
Kuçuk took a seat next to the Baron.
“Great men love to talk. And apparently they love to talk about everything except what I want them to.”
“Well, tell me what you want to know. I’m an open book!”
Kuçuk scratched his beard in thought.
“I simply wish to know your intentions in sticking your nose into my homeland’s business. You are an Imperial, a Baron of two provinces. Your country is poised to invade mine, and all of the lands surrounding us. You will try to obliterate my culture, as you have with so many others in the past. And now here you are, assisting us in consolidating power, an action which will only make it harder for your Empire to conquer ours. I do not understand your logic.”
The Baron took a deep breath before sitting up and turning to look Kuçuk in the eyes.
“There is a flaw in your logic. You assume that we are a united force, that I am an agent of the Empire. We are not, and I am not. Holenstadt and Waffenstadt have been uncooperative with the Empress’s agenda, as has my native Bickenstadt. Jagstadt, while largely siding with the Empress on everything, is quite fond of their independent, woodsman, frontier kind of spirit, if you know what I mean. The Empire is falling apart at the seams, and I like it. I have been gathering allies, The Brayherds, Londonsburg, and now, hopefully, the Ottomans. The Empress knows I am gearing up for a fight, but legally speaking, she can’t really do anything about it but build up her forces.”
The Baron withdrew a flask of brandy from his breast pocket and offered some to Kuçuk, who respectfully refused the offer.
“I could wax poetic about my ideology as long as you’ll allow me, great men and all that, but I imagine you’ll be satisfied with what I have said so far. And in case you began to doze off during my soliloquy, I shall summarize my points.”
The Baron took a deep breath.
“The Empire is divided, I am dissatisfied with Imperial ideology, and I am gearing up to revolt against the Empress in a bid to destroy the Empire. I wish for the Ottomans to assist in my opening move for my revolt, that is assaulting Bergzitadelle Freiderich. And possibly Hässlich if I can wring it out of Suleiman, and whoever I can rope into assisting me besides the Ottomans.”
General Kuçuk closed his eyes in thought. After a moment, the Baron laid back down.
“Was my answer satisfying? It was rather long winded, I confess. And may have been a tad incoherent, I fully admit I am far less intelligent than people give me credit for.”
Kuçuk turned to the man dressed in dark blue cloth.
“I should have you killed for hearing this. I will not, of course, but I should.You are a good soldier.”
The soldier nodded and went back to blending in with the night sky. Kuçuk turned back to the Baron and nodded.
“I accept your words. Suleiman the Magnificent shall hear of this, prepare to speak to him when he arrives. Enjoy your ‘light show’, Baron von Bickenstadt.”
General Kuçuk walked back to his horse and, with dexterity one would not expect from a dwarf, climbed up into his horse’s saddle and assisted the soldier up onto said saddle. He rode off without saying another word. The Baron sighed contentedly.
“I think that went well.”
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Around six days after General Kuçuk learned of the Baron’s true intentions with the Ottoman Empire, the rest of the Ottoman army arrived. As soon as Suleiman personally arrived outside the walls of Nyumba, he sent a summons to the Baron.
Suleiman’s tent was opulent, as one would expect from a sultan. As soon as the Baron entered the tent, he was offered hookah, which he respectfully declined. He took a seat across from Suleiman, who took a long drag from his hookah before addressing the Baron.
“Baron! It is good to see you again! I have heard of your exploits in the city of Kisa! Incredible work! Was it truly your idea to scale the walls and lower ropes?”
“Yes, it was, though they gave me climbing tools I was…uncomfortable with. Worked though. I did something similar when I was putting down a revolt in Holenstadt back home! I had left my cannons behind, a damned fool thing to do I know, and I was rushing to conquer the city of Baktenburg before the other mercenary companies arrived. The walls were made of wood, and I had some Hou-made climbing claws I was dying to use, so me and my men scaled the walls, killed everyone inside of the gate house, and opened the city. It was quite genius, if I do say so myself.”
Suleiman laughed heartily.
“Truly! You are quite the man of war!”
After a moment of shared laughter, Suleiman adopted a more serious expression.
“I have heard of your intentions from General Kuçuk, and I must say, that is quite bold! I am not the type to miss the writing on the walls, your Empire will invade our confederation. It is only a matter of time. However, this can be avoided if you revolt, and so, you have my full support.”
Suleiman threw his arms open to emphasize his point.
“You may consider me amongst your allies! All you need to do is inform me of when the time is right, and thousands of my finest men shall descend upon the walls of Frederich!”
The Baron took a second to process what Suleiman said.
“Wait…so…done? Done and dusted? I have your support? No other caveats or tacked on requests?”
Suleiman let loose a massive belly laugh.
“No! Of course there are conditions.”
The Baron deflated slightly.
“Yes, of course there are conditions.”
“My condition is quite simple! After you have finished with your revolt, and stabilized whatever you make of the Empire, you are to send soldiers down to me and assist with turning the Assai’id confederation into the Ottoman Empire!”
The Baron breathed a sigh of relief.
“Oh, that’s all you want? I will gladly promise that! Make sure to get it in writing, my successor may not wish to follow through with my promise after I have passed, and I am quite old.”
“A grand idea! Vizier! Put our agreement down on paper!”
The Grand Vizier bowed and left the tent.
“Well, now that that’s taken care of, I will tell you our plan to assault Nyumba ya Jua! It is quite simple! We are sending in assassins to kill the mages reinforcing the walls, and then we will reduce them to rubble and charge into the city, if they refuse to surrender when their walls come down. Quite genius in its simplicity!”
“Yes, I agree. That was the Empress’s plan to assault Leibenstadt. It went quite well. I was part of the assassination squad, great fun was had by all. Well, not the mages, but you know what I mean.”
“Yes, of course. Would you like to be part of an assassination squad?”
“Oh yes, quite a lot actually. You should also include my men Udo and Fergus, especially Fergus. He’s quite adept at killing mages. Well he’s quite adept at killing everything, really.”
“Yes, of course! You will be on a team with your men! You may also pick a janissary to join your team, should you wish. Oh, you will enter through the sewers, if that makes any difference to your willingness to participate.”
“It does not! I thank you for allowing me this opportunity to wet my blade! What time will our assault begin?”
“three in the morning, of course. Everyone knows that’s the best time for an operation such as this! Now, I imagine you have important things to do. Oh, also sign the agreement the Grand Vizier has written up, he should be waiting outside.”
The Baron stood and bowed to Suleiman.
“Of course, Sultan, yes, I have much to do. It was good speaking with you. And you most likely have a couple of years before I call for your help. Goodbye, Suleiman the Magnificent.”
“And goodbye to you, Baron of two provinces!”
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The Baron was walking through the camp. His very presence kept morale up, the fact that their leader was more than happy to mingle with his troops makes them far more willing to follow when the time was necessary. But that’s not the primary reason he acted like that, he simply enjoyed spending time with people who aren’t stuffy noblemen.
In his hands was a large platter with various pastries and desserts, a gift from the Sultan. It was enough for quite a few people to tear into it and leave some over for others. The Sultan had intended it to be eaten by the Baron and his lieutenants, the people of high status in the company, but the Baron never really liked that kind of gift. He could eat sweets and platters like that any time, but the people traveling with him could not.
He was walking through the laundress station of the Klarwasser Mercenary Company. The women here, part of the baggage train that kept his army marching, were a mix of wives of soldiers to women who simply enjoyed military life.
They, if anyone, deserve to be rewarded for their hard work, at least in the Baron’s opinion. Each man only had three different shirts, drawers, and pants. In a world without washing machines, making sure that clothing was clean was an extremely taxing and time consuming process.
A clean soldier is far more important than people realize. It makes them feel more professional, and well cared for, so they will act accordingly. My men being unwashed and unkempt barbarians is a bad look. If they are treated like savages, they will act like savages.
The Baron set down his platter on the open space of a table. The laundress working next to him looked over with interest.
“What’s that, sir?”
The Baron smiled brightly.
“A reward for the girls! You lot keep this army going, you deserve something nice for your efforts!”
The women collectively cheered and started to move over and eat, vocalizing their joy time and time again after eating sweets made with cane sugar, some of them possibly for the first time ever.
Something about the scene piqued a Janissary’s interest, so walked over to the Baron, speaking to him in fluent Reikers. Janissaries are often highly educated men, despite being slave soldiers taken from local, non-muslim populations, and Reikers was always useful, as Imperial diaspora could be found in every country on the eastern continents, and a few on the western as well.
“Erkan, they have not given you thanks? Why do you allow your women to act as such?”
The Baron squinted his eyes at the man.
“How do you mean?”
The Janissary looked somewhat surprised.
“Well, is that not disrespectful?”
The Baron was quiet for a moment as he collected his thoughts and tried to temper his annoyance.
“They need not thank me. Without them we wouldn’t be out here today. We couldn’t have gotten this far.”
The Janissary also went quiet to collect his thoughts.
“Still, why allow a woman to disrespect a man? Is that not against the social order?”
The Baron looked baffled.
“Social order?”
The Baron shook his head vigorously.
“Look, son, things are done differently here. The women of our camp, not our women-very big distinction, are here because they have earned the right to be here. Warfare does not begin and end with fighting, it begins and ends with logistics.”
The Janissary looked conflicted. As he began to speak, a laundress cut him off, her high and feminine voice cutting clean through the din of the camp like an enchanted knife through steel.
“Do you know what the most common word called out by dying men in the hospital tent is?”
The Janissary thought for a moment.
“I would imagine it is ‘help’?”
“No. The word I have heard the most out of the mouths of dying men, is ‘mother’. That's why we're essential, and why we don't have to bow our heads to the Baron. It's on principle, or something that like.”
The Baron nodded sagely.
“Exactly. Couldn’t have said it better myself. Son, not only have these women earned their right to be here, they keep our men’s heads on straight.”
His smile took on a melancholic quality, suddenly coming across very lonely and regretful.
“And they comfort our boys as the life drains out of them. I have had young men, as young as seventeen, die in my arms, calling out for their mother. I could not provide that to them.
The Baron looked at the Janissary forcefully.
“That, alone, is why they need not worship the earth beneath me. They are not below me.”