Chapter 5
Vicenzo
“On the right!” someone shouted.
“Right there! Don’t let those bastards get away!” someone else shouted.
Dennis heard as Tom reciprocated with a very long burst from the M60. Tracers pierced through the night air and disappeared as they hit the dirt or, the preferred case, a body as the illumination rounds continued to do their job and show the running figures trying to get to cover behind hills or ditches. Overhead he suddenly felt rather than saw or heard incoming arrows, the brief shifting of the air above him quickly forced him to duck down a little more as the gunfire continued. He faintly heard a few that landed not too far behind him as they hit pottery or one of the local men helping move things around to continue combatting the flames as now screaming came from inside the city behind him.
Damn it all!
He ground his teeth as he heard Alex approaching. The guy was on the radio running from one section of the wall to the other, doing his best not to slip on the spent casings littering the stone floor. He must have tripped or slipped on one or maybe he purposefully slid down along the floor of the ancient wall as Dennis heard a scuffle and the next thing he knew Alex was lying prone by him, trying to talk to them as a few more arrows flew overhead.
“They’re pushing on all sides now! Mortar crews are covering where they can, but they aren’t going to be available for us just yet.”
“All sides? They scaling the walls?”
“No, it’s more of this God-damned shoot and scoot…” he glanced up slightly and shouted, “...like God damn cowards!!!”
No arrows flew overhead anymore, and even over the ringing in his ears from the loud bursts of gunfire, Dennis heard Tom grumble, “They’re running off again.”
“They’re… they’re being real careful.” Alex breathed as he leaned up against the wall.
Tom fired another long burst into the darkness, the rapid thump-thump-thump of the M60 was suddenly followed by distant but very audible pained screaming as men began to die once more in the darkness of the surrounding fields. Dennis didn’t even blink as he turned back to Alex.
“Captain needs me anywhere else?” he asked as he noticed that, by now, all the local guys had pulled back to help get the fire under control. He still had his loaded and yet to be fired in anger M16, and it wasn’t like he hadn’t spent the better portion of his Army training to avoid using it.
Still…
“Not yet. Though he may want you to pull back given-” a lone arrow suddenly whizzed overhead, “Jesus, how close are these bastards getting?!”
“They’re not!” Tom hollered and fired again, shouting “Bastards keep rushing back and forth between those hills over there! Think we can get some mortars over there? Give them some high explosives of their own?”
“Trying!” Alex replied, getting back on the radio.
“And they’re trying to get close…” Dennis grumbled, more audible now that the gunfire had died down. “Maybe they’re trying to burn more of the city by getting close enough for those HE shells they came up with? Think they could be trying to distract us to get close?”
Tom muttered, “Maybe. Maybe not. All I can do is that if they come out, I shoot.”
“Yeah.”
Alex had gotten up and began to glance over the wall and into the darkness, saying “Alright, Orville, you’ll want to head back with me. Check if we can get more local guys here in case things get any hotter.”
“Mortar crews?” Hastings asked quickly.
“Not yet. There’s fifty guys doing this on the northern segment. But bright side is Army’s moving some big guns nearby to provide better fire sup- Christ!”
He proceeded to instantly duck down as more arrows whizzed overhead again. Loud, buzzing, FZZT- sounds that told him and everyone around him that getting up higher than the wall was not a good idea even if arrow fire wasn’t anywhere near as accurate as gunfire.
Rounds from Tom’s M60 and other guns on the wall met them yet again, but most of the guys set up nearby that he could see, local and not, were just sitting there, watching, waiting, and trying to understand just what their enemy was doing. Keeping their heads down, letting the heavier American machine guns do the job while staying behind a good layer of stones to prevent arrows from hitting them.
But for Dennis, he was just unsure of what this General Octavius was doing.
It wasn’t exactly a “probing” attack. The man must’ve gotten a good idea of their capabilities during the previous days’ fighting if not the previous weeks’ of getting bombarded by their artillery in the Alpines. The man had already been going against the local convention with those wyverns dropping some primitive equivalent of napalm and now what felt like HE rounds. So just what the hell was this supposed leader doing? Roman or not, understanding of modern tactics or not, the man couldn’t be doing this for no reason.
Right?
He placed a hand on the stone wall, feeling rather than seeing some of the cracks as more arrows whizzed overhead like some oversized wasps. Their opponent, if anything, was quickly learning the importance of unconventional warfare by their definition. Maybe he was trying to break the walls further? But if he didn’t know any better, the arrow fire should be seen as cover for something else. Probably those new fire weapons he’d thrown at them. And that’s probably what they should be looking for primarily. Unless there was something else he was missing. While there had been genuine rotation of guys, he hadn’t exactly gotten much sleep as one of the few interpreters.
Focus…
He’d reminded himself that the Iberians were far closer to Ancient Rome in regards to their military, and the US Army had demonstrated that fact in full force after the very first day of combat. Excellent formations of well supplied and armored infantry with glisteniing blades might have mopped the floor with an army of their contemporaries. But guns beat swords, period. The masses of corpses he’d seen since arriving were proof of that and unless Octavius was a complete moron, he would have noticed as much too. So it was becoming increasingly apparent that the ability to adapt was not lost on these ancient men, but the question remained: just what the hell were they doing to adapt now?
More arrows whizzed overhead, but this time…
“What the- ? Hey! Hey!”
Dennis turned to look at Tom’s position. Hastings had shifted a little closer to the machine gunner, moving an ammo box as he started pointing toward the horizon. He and other guys tried to follow his gaze as the illumination rounds finally died out.
“Glowing over by the trees!” Hastings shouted suddenly.
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Dennis realized as much then. It was faint, but as the illumination rounds completely died out, he could see it. It almost looked like the dying embers in a fireplace late at night, but in the forest beyond the city walls and behind its hills, that now only meant one thing and one thing only.
Dennis heard Alex get on the radio immediately, quickly giving directions for a priority mortar strike, but it was too late. He swallowed as someone else shouted what they all knew.
“God damn it! Incoming! Get your heads down!”
A distant trumpet sounded then and everyone knew before the words had even been fully shouted. They all ducked down and clung to their weapons. They held their breath. It wasn’t a trench, but it wasn’t Russian artillery they faced. Still, they braced as the new enemy weapon went to work behind the protection of the forest and hills.
Dennis didn’t feel his whispered prayer was alone as he could see the glow increasing in the night.
***
It was not a massed charge, but rather the threat of one as Octavious watched the men stand tall on the tops of the hill to lob arrows. Crossbowmen had more mobility and, if they got close enough, could engage the walled foes with all the accuracy of a toddler trying to hit a bird on a mountain, but his bowmen, on the other hand, benefitted from the additional range and distraction. While the enemy focused on that, or so he hoped, the real attack was put into motion and would be all the more effective. Or at least he was probably thinking as much while he watched from the darkness and heard the trumpet roar. Soon, the enemy weapons and their lightning-quick fireflies would spit out in anger through the darkness once again, preventing the men from fully being able to burn the city down, and she suspected this attack would be no different.
Lucy, however, could appreciate Octavius and his way of thinking a little more now.
It was a curious tactic, really. Creating a distraction that forced the men to respond, and distracted from another party’s plans. Above, she could hear the faint whistling as the artillery tried to respond even now, but it was woefully insufficient. A frightfully gallant effort given how little time they must have had as the men who manned the ballistae had only lit their projectiles with the help of the fire mage now, but it did not surprise her nor did it concern her the same way anymore. Unlike the powerful weapons in the mountains, these were far more limited in scope and destructive capability. It was incredibly dangerous, but compared to the mountains? Manageable. Despite their continuing to quite effectively harass their positions all night, Octavius had successfully forced them into a reactive role as he had his men attack different positions at such a rate that it could not be ignored anymore. It was pressing their numbers advantage in a way that he wouldn’t quite lose them, at least, not as badly, while forcing the Americans to actively try to defend from multiple pushes at once, stretching them thinner and thinner than what would happen had he sent a full charge into one spot, and all without the need to commit such numbers yet.
But would it be enough?
“Seljuk agent!” Octavius barked as the American weapons continued to whistle overhead.
“How long until more of their flying machines appear?”
Lucy frowned. One of her fellow agents had seen a few some time ago, but…
“If they are not here by now, they might be headed elsewhere. If not that, then they should be here any moment.”
She sensed the man’s frustration, but he instead said, “Well, keep a bloody ear out for them! Once they arrive…” his voice trailed, then, filled with resolve, he turned to the men manning the ballista “Now! Now is your time!”
She ignored the increasing glow behind her as the ballistae were already loaded and ready. She did, however, slink away quietly as the young mage worked his power on the flames even more. They seemed to contain themselves within a bubble of air as a glow intensified around them. Then, upon command, one of each men holding the Ballistae in place tugged on their levers, triggering the mechanism that launched the large wooden spear into the air, now carrying the dangerous concoction of that powerful, seemingly living fire.
They flew upwards as the flame seemed to suddenly cover the entire spear, the jar atop it glowing even more as the special material Warlock Agustine had concocted seemed to erupt forth like an angry god. Still, the destruction unleashed only occurred once it struck the ground, not too different from the weapons the enemy threw at them.
As the whistling rounds hit the trees nearby, missing their intended targets entirely, Lucy sunk behind a particularly large one, her eyes briefly flinching at the glow of the eruption the weapon caused. It struck the wall and the fire spread out in a furious roar.
More importantly, behind her, the ballistae were quickly disarmed and moved back into the forest. Above them, the continuing American response was swiftly catching up as she could hear more of the incoming artillery. Quickly, she made herself small. This time the weapons hit farther away. Too far to matter.
Octavius laughed, loudly before a second wave landed much closer to the ballistae crews and the young mage. Again, a miss. A near miss. Too near a miss for comfort.
But that did not concern Octavius.
“They are panicking now. Yes! Yes! Move faster!” he shouted, but it, for once, did not matter either way in their favor. The weapons fell farther away from his crews again. Oh, they ripped a tree apart, and she saw it collapse, but the ballista men and their weapons were left unharmed.
She could sense the relief on Octavius as well as his elation.
These were his tools of war, and for once, the field almost appeared even. The man could understand when an Army was being pushed on as he’d been on the receiving end for now. But if he could push these men into retreating even a little into the city, he could actually press an advantage and destroy Vicenzo. Or, at the very least, if he could destroy the city to the point it was no longer useful, then perhaps it would save his skin and grant the Empire the needed leverage for peace talks, assuming these men from another world did not simply further increase their efforts in even further rage.
But if he could not win here…
Her feline ears twitched and she glanced at the area the weapons had hit. As the fire died out, the movement of the wall was subtle for a moment, but it was soon shockingly clear as men in the distance now screamed things she did not quite understand. But even without that, it was obvious what was happening. Her eyes widened in the darkness as she saw the wall suddenly fall away. As if a curtain was pulled to the side to reveal the stage, it crumbled in on itself, then spread further out in a plume of smoke.
A whole segment of the wall had simply collapsed. She could see further into the city clearly even from the hill she stood on. Men that screamed in the darkness suddenly fell silent, and the sound of crumbling rocks and ancient motar echoed into her ears over even the further gunfire around the city, but there, where they had struck, it all went quiet. That was an undeniable triumph. It had to be! She could sense Octavius was thinking the same thing, and perhaps she would have let herself assume this was the necessary turning point he had been waiting for.
But then she felt her spine turn ice cold as a distant mechanical whirring was felt by her more sensitive feline ears than any of the suddenly cheering men around her.
“Oh… oh yes! Yes!” Octavius shouted in ecstasy, arms raised in praise to the gods before he pointed at the wall, “We have shattered their wall! There is a way in! Gather your men! Gather your men!”
She did not allow the moment to be more than short-lived.
“Enemy fliers! Enemy fliers are here! Get to cover!” she barked at him, then also ducked away.
***
Dennis had felt the ground beneath him shift due to the impact first, but everyone had already sensed the danger. An unsteady movement that could be mistaken for dizziness at first. He didn’t need to imagine what it was as he heard the sound of stone breaking away faster and faster.
“Move! Get off the wall! Move!” Dennis shouted twice, once in English and once in the local tongue in case any local had stayed behind or was near their position. Rapdily standing up in spite of the concern for arrow fire, he tried to push Alex up as well while Tom and Hastings lept out of the way. Guys did as he said not because he’d said it but because it was obvious what was happening. He could only hope the way the ground beneath him swayed to the sides was imagined. Still, it would probably be too late to just run away from the wall. Some simply jumped off as it wasn’t like the wall was too high up, and luckily, jumping off wasn’t difficult if you moved fast enough.
He wasn’t that lucky, of course.
A piece of stone fell away under his foot first, and as Alex whirled around to see him trip, the stones behind him collapsed almost immediately. There hadn’t even been the time to scream as the wall took him down with it. Where his eyes had become accustomed to the night, they were instantly filled with darkness again as he sank down.
It wasn’t a high wall. It was mostly a stopgap measure in their ancient warfare, as any army with ladders could scale it. Even now, it was primarily working as an effective barricade because of their guns. Had the city garrison had to hold off the attack on their own, they would have already been long overrun and the city burnt completely to the ground. For him and those around him, the issue wasn’t falling to a horrible death. Really, he wouldn’t fall for very long, and he knew that wouldn’t exactly cost him all that much to hit the ground even if he had fallen further. No, what would probably kill him would be the amount of debris he seemed to be sinking into as the wall fell where he’d been standing. It wasn’t like a piece of wall had broken with him on it, it was crumbling. Disintegrating. Almost pulling him down as it fell to pieces around him, and soon, atop him.
He felt solid ground beneath his feet, and a crushing weight overhead as he suddenly felt the ground come up to rudely meet him. So much happened in the half-second of it all. Fear gripped him. His grip on his rifle tightened as it suddenly felt incredibly important his gear not be damaged. Would he die alone? He couldn’t see anyone and he wanted to scream.
As darkness truly enveloped him and he tasted dirt and ash, he was unable to scream.
Instead, he coughed out a frightened, pleading, pathetic, childish whimper as he felt dust and rock bury him alive.
“Mom!”