Westrons Pt. 06

She ran down to join me, and stood at my side.

- "Vengeance!" she screamed. "Save the city!" Mixed messages, but it was probably her shrill voice that affected them most.

- "Drummers! Sound the advance!" I shouted.

I'm not sure why, but several of them listened to me. I had no more authority than the Woles who drove the supply wagons, but Storana's soldiers obeyed. When I started walking towards the little bastion, Themis followed.

And so did the front rank of the Aneli Regiment.

Don't ask me what I was thinking; I wasn't thinking. I just knew that if Tonol fell, the Westrons would lose the war. And if that happened, it could be bad for people I cared about, like Talley's family, like Kanitz and Airta, and Themis.

I vaguely heard the drums, like a bass riff under the thunder of the guns. There were some fifes twittering, too. Silly things, fifes.

I turned, and walked backwards. To my amazement, the nearly 750 soldiers of the regiment were advancing, in line.

If we simply marched to the bastion, we had very few options. But only one made sense: we had to fix bayonets, and charge in. That could end badly; the Crolians were bigger, and there were more of them than there were of us.

We might have surprise, and momentum.

I called a halt, only fifty yards from the bastion. Some of the Crolians had already seen us, and several fired their muskets at us. A soldier in the front rank crumpled and fell.

- "Fix bayonets!" I shouted.

"I ask only two things of you! Two things! First, I want you to go in there and shoot a Crolian! You can do that - get close, so that you don't miss!"

"Then, I want you to bayonet another Crolian! If every one of you kills two Crolians, then there won't be any left!"

I didn't give them a chance to think it over.

- "Drummers! Sound the charge!"

I counted to two, in my head. Then I drew my pistols, and ran towards the Little Seemay.

Three or four Crolians shot at me. I got close, and shot one in the chest from about five feet away. A second looked like he wanted to use a bayonet on me; I shot him with my second pistol.

There were screaming females all around, and muskets going off, and the Crolians were running.

- "Give me your pistols!" shouted Themis. "Take mine!" That made sense; she could load, while I shot. I handed them over, took hers in exchange.

We surged around the bastion, looking for an entry, There were Crolians everywhere. Most, thankfully, were completely unprepared for our arrival. They'd already fired their weapons. We shot them down, or spitted them on bayonets.

It was too late to exert any command control; I'd done my part, getting them this far. I could only keep going, and try to retake the bastion.

The Little Seemay was a madhouse. There were defenders still fighting, in one corner, and on the upper ramparts. There were Crolians trying to eliminate them, and other Crolians who were already celebrating their victory, plundering, or ...

I came across three Crolians who were shearing off hunks of flesh from a dead Westron defender. They were eating her, before the fight was even over.

I shot one, missed the second, but recovered in time to draw my sabre and slash his head open before he could find his musket. Themis shot the third.

She re-loaded, quickly, as I stood guard with my sword and tried to figure out what was happening. The sims at AFOTA, I realized, had never - could never - duplicate the real thing. It was chaos. Madness.

We pushed on, until we ran into shrieking Anelis coming in the opposite direction.

- "It's ours!" screamed one of them. ""The bastion is ours!"

I grabbed her by the arm. "Find a banner! A flag! Raise it above the bastion! Let the whole army know what we've done. You - go with her."

My sense of direction was completely confused. When I exited the bastion, I realized that I was facing the Crolian siege lines. The city wall was to my right. To the left was the Westron army, which wouldn't move, unless General Brune gave the order.

And straight ahead, the two Crolian regiments which had been positioned to support their assault on the bastion.

- "Themis!"

- "Here!"

- "Find an officer. Send her back. Tell the Colonels on the ridge. Tell the General. Without immediate support, we can't hold the bastion. Tell them. Go."

- "I -"

- "Go, Themis!"

The Crolians didn't move any faster than the Westrons. It took them forever to prepare their two regiments for a counter-stroke.

In that time, I found half a dozen junior officers, and had them gather as many of the Aneli troopers as they could find. They managed to collect almost 600 soldiers, on the northern side of the bastion.

This wasn't going to go well. The Anelis looked grimly determined, but two fresh regiments of Crolians weren't going to be easy to stop. I moved among them, offering words of encouragement.

- "Lift up that sash again, Pylos!" shouted one soldier. "That'll stop 'em!"

I had to laugh. "Think I should change into a kilt?" I called back.

- "You stay just the way you are, Pylos!"

- "They're moving!" shouted someone else. That made no sense; the Crolians were already on their way. But then a trooper pointed.

To our left, towards our camp ... one of our regiments was coming down the slope. Coming to our aid. Blue coats and grey breeches.

- "Langoret! Langoret's are coming!"

Colonel Langoret - I vaguely remembered meeting her in General Brune's command tent - timed it to perfection. The Crolians were committed to an advance against us, but she was going to arrive on their flank just before they reached us.

That Crolian commander couldn't ignore this new threat; he tried to wheel his troops.

To the uninitiated, it sounds simple: everybody turns to the left. But that wasn't how these armies worked. The file-closers - the last men (or women) on the end of the line - are chosen for their steadiness, and discipline. The 1st Company, for example, is always on the extreme left. Change the order, and no one knows where they're supposed to be.

To wheel a regiment takes time - and space. The first company stops, and pivots in place. The second has to march up beside them, before pivoting. And the last company has a long way to go before they get to where they're supposed to be.

Soldier #31 always stands between 30 and 32. You can't ask him/her to sprint a hundred yards, in a crowd of milling troopers, and find his correct spot, leaving enough space for everyone else to fit in. You have to march him there, in the same linear formation he's accustomed to. It's difficult to do on a parade ground; on a battlefield, it can turn to chaos very quickly.

Frederick the Great's Prussians could have done it. I was relieved to see that the Crolians weren't in his league. Great gaps opened up their line, with some companies moving too slowly, while others went too fast. The lines overlapped, so that some of the Crolians were blocking the line of fire of their comrades.

Langoret's regiment stopped at thirty paces, and gave them a devastating volley. Only a third of the Crolians were in position to respond. Langoret, wisely, didn't charge into the maelstrom; she had her troops reload, and fired a second volley.

Now another gap was opening up, as one Crolian regiment continued to come toward us, while the second was tangled up with Langoret - and getting much the worst of it.

The Anelis were spread too thinly. But now that became an advantage, because our line overlapped theirs.

- "Sound the advance!" I called. I ran to the end of the line, found a company commander, and then a second. It took a few moments, shouting in their ears, to explain what I wanted. They knew their business; neither was surprised. In fact, they were looking forward to it.

At forty paces, the Crolians stopped, and fired a volley. We took losses. Women fell. But they were steady troops. They didn't falter. We advanced another ten steps, and fired our own volley.

Both sides reloaded. We weren't going to be able to take much more of this. But our two end companies did exactly what I'd asked. They pivoted, and turned to face the city. Then they fired a volley into our enemies' exposed flank.

The Crolians began to give ground.

Langoret's regiment, having thrashed their first opponents, were now wheeling in our direction. The line facing us now realized that they could be trapped between two foes, with their backs to the city wall.

It began as an attempt to retreat in formation, but that regiment started to dissolve as we poured fire into them from three sides. Some may have escaped, but a large number chose to surrender.

I looked around, suddenly terrified: I'd lost track of Themis.

She was right behind me. "We did it! We did it!"

I detailed a company to disarm the prisoners, and take them back to our lines. It felt very odd: both armies had been known to eat enemy dead after a battle, but there were very few instances of prisoners being killed.

Themis tugged at my sleeve; there was a small cluster of officers coming our way. I recognized Colonel Langoret. She was small - barely 5' tall, with corn-coloured hair. In a land of striking women, with bright blue or green hair, she could easily pass unnoticed.

But I liked my second look at her. I saw intelligence in her eyes - and I couldn't fault the way she'd handled her regiment.

I bowed to her. "You've saved us, Colonel."

- "You saved the bastion." she said. "I wouldn't have moved, if you hadn't. What shall I call you: Acting-Colonel Cook?"

For now, I suppose that fit. Our soldiers were cheering, but some were also pointing: two more of our regiments were beginning to move.

- "We have an opportunity, here, Colonel." I said.

- "I agree. What do you suggest?"

I knew what I'd have done if it was my army; so I presented my idea to her as just that - a suggestion. Langoret took one more look at the situation, and nodded.

"I believe you're right. Let's do that."

Four Crolian regiments had been roughly handled. One of those was virtually eliminated. But the shape of their siege lines made it difficult for the Crolian General to withdraw those battered formations and replace them with fresh troops.

Put it this way: we'd bent one edge of the Crolian horseshoe, which partially encircled the city. The enemy General couldn't simply move the troops in the center out the edge. Two-way traffic through siege lines is much more difficult than it sounds.

To make matters worse for them, most of their artillery was facing the city. Driving ox-teams into the same spaces where you were trying to move troops ...

Langoret and I didn't give them time to draw order out of the confusion. We advanced, parallel to the city wall, against elements of two regiments we'd already thrashed. Langoret sent a runner to the Westron regiments which were advancing, requesting/suggesting/hoping that they would attack beside us, rather than behind.

It worked. Four Westron regiments, acting somewhat like a nut-cracker, squeezed the end of the Crolian horseshoe between them. We inflicted serious punishment when the Crolians waited too long to withdraw. It was understandable: they didn't want to abandon their siege guns.

The Crolian Commander in Chief finally seemed to realize that he couldn't fight us and maintain his encirclement of the city at the same time.

We started running into stronger resistance, and the two regiments beside us began to encounter superior numbers. They were in danger of being outflanked themselves.

The Anelis had the wall to their right, and Langoret to their left. There was nothing I could do, at this point, to alter the shape of the battle, or to affect its outcome, so I was in the front line. I had a pistol in my left hand, the sabre in my right.

As soon as I fired the pistol, Themis handed me a fresh one. I couldn't order her out of the fight; keeping her behind me, busily reloading seemed to be the wisest course.

Then a knot of Crolians launched a desperate bayonet charge. The troopers near me discharged their muskets, and I fired my pistol. Themis immediately took it, and handed me a loaded one.

But there were two burly Crolians headed straight for me, bayonets levelled.

There was no margin for error, here. I didn't have time to shoot, and then trade pistols again; if Themis and I fumbled the exchange, or if she didn't have a pistol ready, I was done.

So I waited until the two enemy soldiers were almost upon me, and shot one in the head. At the last possible second, I swept the sabre down, and knocked the second Crolian's bayonet point away. I thought, for a moment, that he'd succeeded in stabbing me.

But all that training with Karpov paid off, as I let my parry flow into a riposte, and buried the sabre's edge in the Crolian's skull.

He hadn't stuck me; he'd torn my coat, though.

- "That was my best coat." I said, without thinking.

Only a few soldiers heard me, but they raised a cheer.

Despite my survival skills, despite all our success to this point, we were probably still going to lose. The Crolians weren't giving ground any more.

They had more troops than we did, and General Brune had delayed too long before sending the rest of the army to support us. In a close packed melee like this, the Crolian advantages in size and strength were beginning to tell.

That's when the gates of Tonol opened, and the garrison sortied. Their commander timed it to perfection. She also didn't waste her troops, by letting them attack piecemeal. She took the time to form them up, in regimental strength, before launching an attack on the thinly held flank and rear of the Crolian army.

Then she collected and formed up a second regiment, and sent them in.

It was like two waves, battering the weakest point of the enemy army. It was too much for them. One regiment broke, and then a second.

The Crolians began to retreat, all along the line. Some of them managed to extricate themselves; some did not.

It wasn't until it was almost over that I was able to discover what had happened.

- "We won!" said Themis. "Cook - we won. You won ... for us." She embraced me right there, on the battlefield.

***

The reality, afterwards, was grim. I'd seen photos and vids, but disturbing as those can be, nothing can match being there.

The original defenders of the bastion had been virtually wiped out. To our horror, we found that a number of them had been raped, and quite a few partially eaten.

I didn't know that Westron women could growl - but I heard a lot of it that day.

There was a distinct possibility that some of the perpetrators of these atrocities were among the prisoners who'd surrendered to us. Fortunately, cooler heads made the decisions, and there were no reprisals.

I found the body of the soldier who'd shouted that I should lift my sash; she'd been shot through the eye. There were far too many Westrons among the dead.

The brave garrison commander, Colonel Tudino, was mortally wounded.

General Brune called me to her tent.

- "Thank you, for your prompt action, Lieutenant Cook." she said. "In recompense, I will appoint you Acting-Colonel of the Aneli Regiment, until the Inhaber-proprietor chooses a new Commander. I shall also mention you in my despatches."

- "Thank you, General." I said. I hadn't thought of any of that.

Themis had. She was hopping mad. "That's - that's just wrong! Without you, the city would have fallen. You deserve ... you deserve much better than this."

Colonel Langoret thanked me, in person. She invited me to dine with her.

- "Thank you, Colonel. Nothing would please me more. But I'd like to see Colonel Tudino, to thank her ... she won the battle for us."

- "That sounds like a better idea." said Langoret. "Would you mind if I accompanied you?"

We found Tudino, inside the city, in a private home that had been converted into a hospital. She wasn't dying, after all; she was sitting up in bed, with a huge bandage wrapped around the side of her face and head.

- "The General was wounded twice." the doctor explained. "A bullet struck the corner of her mouth, and she was grazed by a bayonet, along the scalp-line."

- "Hurtsh to laugh." mumbled Tudino. "Losht a few teef, too. Whozh 'iss?"

- "Colonel Langoret, at your service. And this is Acting-Colonel Cook."

- "You saved the army, Colonel." I said. "Your intervention was perfect; you won the battle."

Tudino grunted. She had long, coal-black hair, and pale skin. The contrast was striking, especially when her bright blue eyes twinkled. Her nose had been broken, at some time in the past; I could sympathize.

- "You shaved the shitty." she mumbled. "Shaw you from the wall. You two won the battle. We jusht joined in."

- "At the perfect moment." said Langoret. "Cook and I have discussed it. Without you, we would have lost the battle."

- "A'right." said Tudino. "We're all great. They won't let me eat, but nobody shaid anyffin 'bout drinkin'. Got any wine?"

A bottle was duly procured.

"You do mosht o' the talkin'. Jesht don' make me laugh."

- "Remarkable officer." said Langoret, as we made our way back to camp.

- "I quite liked her." I said.

- "How could you not?"

***

My first real duty as Acting-Colonel was to supervise the roll-call, two days after the battle. I stood there as Themis called out names.

There were 482 soldiers who answered, of the 774 who'd gone into the fight.

The missing weren't all dead, of course; most of them were wounded. Visiting those troopers took several days.

Fortunately, I didn't have much else to do. General Brune didn't pursue the enemy. They'd lost a third of their army, killed, or captured, all of their heavy artillery and quite a few of their field guns.

It was a notable victory, no matter how you measured it.

- "You should be an Inhaber." said Themis. "Or a General."

- "Thank you." I said.

- "No. Probably a General. You ... you need to be independent."

Is it any wonder that I loved her?

*****