Located at the western side of Malang island, the Free City of Khmer was the largest city in Santara. It boasted more people than both Mocasar and Dun-a-din combined. In size, it rivaled the Black City, though lacking the creepy Nodian towers. But what the colonial capital lacked in height was more than made up for in width. And indeed, it was wide.

Anyone who has ever been to Khmer can attest to its beauty. Travelers there will be greeted by blocks of houses interspersed by canals. Centuries of Tionghoa engineering had turned the lizardman-ridden swamps into districts of islands fit for human settlement. Known as a kampung, each district is its own country, with governance based on the race of the inhabitants. Some are districts of Khmerians, others various types of goyans. But at the center, away from the mangroves that defined the Old Town Khmer, is the main city, home to the Governor General.

Khmer’s geography made it difficult if not impossible for us to assault the city. Thanks to the canals, moving ground soldiers around would have been troublesome. Also, it was well protected. The walls were short compared to their counterparts in Mocasar (for example), but they were fortified by men, ballistae, and cannons. Same with the Port of Khmer, which was the biggest port in Santara and was host to thousands of trading ships from all around the world coming in and out every day.

Khmer had to be sieged, that much was clear. But even without those aforementioned difficulties, the colonial capital’s population and reliance on trade made sieging the ideal choice.

There was only one complication: the Borobudur Fortress, located to the southeast of Khmer itself. Once a Yakobinian town, Borobudur was turned into a fort by the Tionghoa during their conquest of Western Santara. Back in the day, the fortress acted as the Tionghoa’s outpost in Malang island. But now, it protected Khmer from disgruntled natives in the island’s interior.

Sieging Khmer meant we had to contend with reinforcements from Borobudur. And taking the fortress outright was problematic given its heavy defenses. Our solution to this issue was madness, so much so that only I could have come up with it. But once I explained my thought process to King Aron and the rest of the Padri’s leaders, they accepted it as the best possible option. Even Kochba, though begrudgingly, I’m sure he still hated me for what I did back at the Tomb.

It was clear that in order to successfully siege Khmer, we would have to keep the Tionghoa at bay, both the ones in Khmer and in Borobudur. To that end, I proposed the construction of two sets of defensive fortifications: one line of circumvallation facing Khmer, and the other a line of contravallation facing away. The former to keep sorties from Khmer at bay, the latter to prevent attackers from Borobudur from breaking our siege. Also, they would keep the Tionghoa from supplying the city by land.

The sea was simple, we siege the port with ships just like with Khatulistiwa and Bandar. As usual, this was the Sea Peoples’ job. But our buccaneer allies would have help from the Hitam Brigade also. When the Hitams under Zhou Tan joined the Padri, he also brought to our cause able sailors, a whole fleet in fact – the very same fleet that the Sea Peoples fought so we could attack Bandar.

Even now, I’m still surprised at how everything worked out. Back then, I wondered why the Hitams were not deployed east against us from the very beginning, or at least after the Padri took Mocasar. The answer, as was often the case, was politics. In those days, Zheng Zhi was the Governor General of the Tionghoa Southern Holdings. A man of weak character, he had been pressured by both his advisors and many Khmerian Dukes not to send the Hitams. Why? Because they didn’t want the dark-skinned outsiders to take the credit for crushing the rebellion.

Zhou Tan was a smart man and he quickly realized what was going on. His eyes were opened; he knew that no matter how devout he had served the Dragon Emperor, the Tionghoa would never see him and his kind as their own. And so, when Lord Aron gave him the offer to join the Padri, he took it.

Did my lord know of this when he made said offer? I don’t think so. He was always a man who thinks with his heart. And this approach served him well in the Padri War. It had brought in men who would otherwise not be sympathetic to the Yakobinian cause.

Speaking of which, our attacking force had also received reinforcements from the Despotate of Leste. As to be expected from Drusus’ country, a significant contingent of their forces were wyvern riders, Lestean nobles like the Despot himself. This was a boon for us. As for why it took so long for the Padri to make use of them, it was a matter of politics (yet again); King Aron knew well how hated the Khmerians were by their Yakobinian cousins and did not want to alienate Sultan Kochba (as readers can tell, their relationship was fragile to begin with). But with everything at stake, political considerations were thrown aside.

Unfortunately, Leste was quite a ways from Khmer, so it would take a while for the Lesteans to take part in the battle. But I’m getting ahead of myself, let’s return to Khmer.

It’s one thing to plan a siege, but another to carry it out altogether. We knew that the Tionghoa would not stand still and wait while we build our fortifications. Thus, our plan also involved distraction – two of them. I’ll get to them in a later chapter.

The Battle of Khmer started with a three-pronged advance from the north. At the west were the Paloeans under Sultan Kochba bolstered by half of the Puncakians under Inferna. The eastern attack was made up of the Dunadinians under King Aron. As per usual, I was part of this army. The other half of the Puncakians came under Paradisa’s command, and they bolstered our forces. Both forces landed some miles removed from the walls of Khmer. The coasts were flat, though swampy. It was a slog for us to get through. It was only thanks to our Puncakian allies that we were able to make a safe landing. With their flying pegasi and gryphons, they kept enemy sorties from harassing the landing troops, both Dunadinian and Paloean.

Thus was the two of the three advances. The third advance was at the center, and they were made up mostly of our Sea People allies. Readers should keep in mind that the Sea Peoples were not just sailors and fishermen, they were also fighters and pirates. The average Santara Sea buccaneer fights with an axe; a crude and inelegant weapon, but it served them well enough.

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As their ships sieged Khmer, the Sea Peoples launched raids on the coastal settlements of Khmer. I can only imagine the shock and fear the Tionghoa must have felt when they saw a fleet of ships heading into Khmer, then unloading scores of buccaneers on land. On the face of it, this should have been a suicidal attack. Surely Khmerian cannons would have laid waste on the buccaneers. I was counting on this mentality. I knew the Khmerians would have left little defenders on their port in order to defend against our main army on land.

Of course, I didn’t expect the Sea Peoples to conquer Khmer. They job was merely to raid. Having caught the Tionghoa by surprise, the buccaneers were virtually unopposed during landing. At least for a short time. It was only a matter of time before the Tionghoa responded, so the Sea Peoples left Khmer almost as quickly as they came. But not before setting fire to much of the coastal settlements. By the time Tionghoa soldiers arrived, the buccaneers were long gone.

It was an almost flawless operation. Almost. Unfortunately, a group of buccaneers got greedy for Tionghoa treasures. They decided to ransack the homes they could find. But as the raiders were on a time limit, they could not afford to run a headcount before leaving with their ships. The aforementioned looters, being burdened by their treasures, were too slow, and they were left behind by their comrades. One man was so desperate to escape that he jumped into the sea in pursuit of the ships but was instead weighed down by his loot and drowned. The rest were captured by the Tionghoa.

Such is the price of greed.

Other than the fate of the unfortunate looters, the Sea People’s raids had gone the way I wanted. It forced the Tionghoa to spread their defenses thin. More importantly, it kept them occupied while the main force – the two armies that landed outside of Khmer – were able to march unimpeded. In that time, we secured a perimeter around the whole city; ten miles was the average diameter of said perimeter.

We had three camps set up. Two of them were along the coasts – they were the ones initially established each by the Dunadinian and the Paloean armies when they landed. The third one was located to the south of Khmer. It was the designated main camp for the Padri as a whole.

Strangely enough, we were at our most perilous once we established our perimeter. Now we were surrounded, Khmer on one side and Borobudur on the other. Of course, Khmer itself was surrounded by us. And there was another paradox to our situation. Next, we had to build our lines of circumvallation and contravallation. Normally, that would involve digging in and defending. But we couldn’t afford to defend; we were outnumbered and in enemy territory. There was no way the Tionghoa would sit still and allow us to construct our investment (that being our contravallation and circumvallation). In order to defend, we had to attack.

We made two attacks: one at Khmer, the other towards Borobudur.

Once again, we had to divide our forces, not in two but in three. The first army was our ground forces, made up of the Dunadinians and the Paloeans. They had to stay within the occupied territory and build up the investment. Virtually all of our ground forces were left here from the humble footman to the mighty Arphaxad. Livia also stayed behind. Drusus was not happy about that, but I knew that the Nodian’s dark magic may prove useful in repelling Tionghoa sorties.

As for the other two armies, they were the ones to attack. Both armies were made up mostly of Puncakians. We needed the mobility of the airborne mercenaries to launch two separate raids: one at Khmer and the other towards Borobudur.

The two armies were split evenly in two. The first half was the Puncakians under Inferna’s command. And helping her was none other than Kochba. The Sultan of Paloe was to hitch a ride on Inferna’s black pegasus. The other half of the Puncakians were put under Paradisa’s command; assisting this half of the Puncakians were us, the Dunadinians; that would be me, Lord Aron, and Drusus. Drusus had his wyvern to ride, while my lord and I had to be passengers each of a Puncakian rider.

For reasons that should be clear to all, Paradisa wanted to have Lord Aron as her passenger. But the King of Dun-a-din rejected this proposition. He thought that I should be her passenger. This made perfect tactical sense. As the tactician of the army, it would be advantageous that I had a broad view of the battle. Paradisa, being our healer would have given me this, as she would stay behind the frontline. On the other hand, if she had Lord Aron as her passenger, she would have to constantly expose herself to danger; with the Isildur, we would need the King to be on the front line as often as possible.

Instead, the honor of being the King’s driver fell to a warrior maiden named Hadassah. It happened by complete accident. Not knowing who to choose, my lord decided that his driver will be the first Puncakian he saw. He said this to me inside of his tent. And as Providence would have it, a young woman came into our tent bearing a message from Kochba and Inferna. She was a stunningly beautiful woman with a long, flowing golden mane. I was floored at the sight of her. Not my lord though; without missing a beat, he took her hands in his and asked her to be his driver. Her blushing face was her answer. And that, readers, was how Hadassah became Lord Aron’s driver.

As expected, this led to great awkwardness. I remember Paradisa’s face when we told everyone else of this arrangement. Her agape mouth was one thing, but her eyes showed a girl who was lost; I could see bits of tears there, she was doing all she could not to cry on the spot.

As it was happening, I thought it was a bad idea. I could also smell Inferna’s hand in all this, though I was utterly confused as to why she would do something like this. From where I stood, none of this made any sense. Though it was par the course for my lord. Remember when I said that King Aron thinks with his heart? This was yet another example of such. But believe it or not, this decision would pay off later on.

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Everything was all set for us to launch our respective attacks. Before I left with Paradisa and the rest of the Borobudur attack group, I caught sight Kochba awkwardly approaching Inferna; she was atop her black pegasus. The redhead shook her head, clearly amused.

“Get on up, Sultan,” Inferna said, tapping her mount. “Or are you scared?”

“I have no reason to fear a horse!” Kochba responded indignantly.

“Then perhaps you’re afraid of heights?”

The Sultan’s silence told Inferna everything she needed. She laughed heartily, then extended her hand to Kochba.

“I won’t let you fall, Your Highness. Just hold on to me as we ride.”

Kochba took the Puncakian’s hand. With her help, he was able to get on the horse. Even so, the Sultan was as proud as ever. “Rest assured, Inferna. I won’t be a burden to you. The Sultan of Paloe is an adaptable man. I will show you my strength. Together, we will burn down Khmer!”

“Glad to hear it.”

Having heard that, I left the premises with the two none the wiser. I was glad that this love triangle seemed to have solved itself, though just in time for another to develop.

Not ideal given our situation, but it matters not. Every one of us in the Padri – Dunadinian, Paloean, Puncakian, Sea People, and Hitam – were ready for the desperate siege. But first, the two sorties.