Westrons Pt. 29

Again, one of their regiments strayed too close to the river, and our gunners punished them for that error.

Some of the Crolians levelled their muskets, and fired in our direction - another wasted effort, at that range. I heard one scream, quickly cut off. Someone had been hit. Unlucky, that, when the enemy were shooting from almost 200 yards.

We watched Ellem Anry's troops retire, pursued and harassed by Langoret's division.

Then Isa gripped my shoulder.

- "Cook -"

I saw one of Tudino's aides running towards us.

- "General! General Cook!" she shouted. "You have to come! The Colonel's been hit!"

***

In strict military terms, I had to go see her - to find out what had happened. Tudino was the divisional commander on Peck's hill, and if she was out of action, I would have to replace her. That, or take over myself.

But I have to admit, in that brief moment, that I wasn't thinking like a General. Tudino was hurt - again - and I had to get to her.

She was lying on the ground, surrounded by several aides and troopers. All I could see was her face, contorted in a rictus of pain.

When I got closer, I saw that someone had torn a shirt into strips, to tie a tourniquet on her left arm, just beneath the elbow. Below that, Tudino's wrist was shattered. I could see one of the bones (the ulna, or the radius - I could never remember which) sticking out through the torn skin.

She saw me. Immediately, she tried to make a brave face.

- "Cook -" she got out.

- "You'll be alright, Tudino. We'll get you to Doctor Boska."

I detailed four of her soldiers to take her to the rear, and sent a runner ahead to find the surgeon.

- "Did it - again." said Tudino, through clenched teeth.

***

The only move of Ellem Anry's which might have borne fruit was the re-positioning of his artillery. Lined up along the river, they could have engaged Tudino's batteries on Peck's hill, and might even have done serious damage to the left end of the Penchen line.

But the Crolian Prince had left that move for last. His infantry had led off first, in a mass, leaving no space for his ox teams to pull the guns forward.

By the time there was room to move, and the cannon started to come forward, his regiments were being checked - at the bridges, and by Langoret's division.

As they retreated, they created another traffic jam.

Then they left the gun teams exposed. Only a dozen or so guns had been unlimbered. The remainder were still being drawn into position.

Langoret was not one to miss such a glorious opportunity. Tudino's rifle company joined in, from atop Peck's hill, but Langoret, Faregil, Frad and Cyrte had a field day. They enjoyed what is known as 'a target-rich environment'.

Officers and teamsters, oxen and gunners - every hit counted. Every casualty, whether man or beast, made it progressively more difficult for the Crolians to get their guns set up.

Ellem Anry - or one of his officers - saw the danger. But it was far too late by the time a pair of fresh infantry regiments came forward to protect the guns from Langoret's skirmishers.

The screen they provided was in the form of a three-deep line. It was a target that our light infantry could feast on.

The Crolians fired volleys in return, but only a few of our skirmishers fell.

Langoret sent the rifle companies around the edge of the Crolian 'screen'. Ellem Anry had to send more troops to cover the flank of his exposed troopers.

In the interval, the Crolians managed to get perhaps thirty guns set up along the river, between the town and Peck's hill. They began to fire at the Penchen left.

But they were exposed to Tudinos' battery, and to her riflemen, as well as multiple Penchen batteries. Fifty or 60 guns responded to the Crolian artillery.

The battle was progressing even better than I had hoped.

Ganning had suffered heavy losses, and was pinned down in the southern part of the town. Ellem Anry had failed to use his half of their army effectively, and had squandered their advantage in numbers.

Now we were exploiting our superiority in artillery, as well as our tactical advantages.

Ganning tried, once more, to break out of the trap by attacking Mallet hill. He used fresh troops that the Prince had sent over from the other side of town.

But Votuda and Neslann were too firmly ensconced, and their massed guns were too formidable. The Crolian attack petered out before their troops got even close to our lines.

Now was the moment I'd planned for - and the moment I dreaded.

There were still plenty of Crolian troops in south Feirlan. Their artillery had been decimated - they'd pulled back into the town itself, for the most part.

But if we gave them time to think, or to re-organize, they might begin an orderly withdrawal across the river at their backs. It was time to hit them - hard.

I sent for Yna, and the reserve.

She had her regiment, plus two centrals, including Lupona's, and two more southern regiments. She had also been waiting for this opportunity all day.

I sent her division around the edge of Mallet hill, to the right of Neslann. Yna then turned , to face north, parallel to the river. And from there, she launched her five regiments in an attack on the town.

This was not a spot where the Crolians anticipated any trouble. They had more than enough to worry about to the west. Mallet hill was our defensive strongpoint - they didn't expect it to be the launch pad for an attack.

No sooner had Yna gone in than our artillery opened up all along the line. They fired several salvos. There wouldn't be much of Feirlan left by the time we were done.

Neslann and her division of 3 regiments went in next. Votuda remained on the hill, and became my new reserve.

Then, with a crashing roll of massed drums, the Penchen regiments advanced, shoulder to shoulder.

On the other side of the Oblion river, Langoret's 6 regiments increased the pressure, to keep Prince Ellem Anry occupied.

In any case, he couldn't have helped Ganning. The bridges connecting the two halves of Feirlan were already choked with fugitives, fleeing north. Even if the Prince wanted to dispatch more soldiers to support his co-commander, it was unlikely that they could've gotten there.

I sent Tudino's troops, along with the two southern regiments, to line the river on the southern side. Ellem Anry's units, busy fighting Langoret, now faced fire into their flank.

The fighting in Feirlan was savage - especially where Yna drove her division forward.

Then, all at once, Crolian resistance seemed to collapse. It became every man for himself - I could imagine the equivalent of the 'Sauve qui peut'' cry going up.

They had only a few places to go. The bridges to the north side were already jammed. There was a bridge across the Baynas river, to the east: it too was soon packed solid with fugitives. Yna's regiment got close enough to bring it under fire.

There were boats, too. Many of these were overloaded, and sank. Crolian soldiers fought each other for possession of small fishing boats. Only a very few escaped that way.

There was no Crolian rearguard to speak of. No organized force was willing to fight - and die - to gain more time for their fellows to escape. The vast majority simply turned their backs, and fled.

Some of those who couldn't find a boat, or couldn't even get close to the bridges, were desperate enough to take to the water.

Neither Crolians nor Westrons were good swimmers. Many of our enemies perished in the river.

It wasn't pretty. We took heavier losses than necessary in the closing stages of the battle. But Feirlan was the most decisive battle of the Crolian wars. By far.

***

I let Yna loose, with her division, to pursue the enemy. Neslann and Votuda and Langoret all joined in the pursuit.

That left me with Tudino's 3 regiments, and the Penchens, to make sure of the battlefield.

The war was over. It had to be. Even if Ellem Anry and Ganning escaped, there was no way the Crolians could mount another offensive after this.

And as I walked the field, and entered the wreckage that had once been a town, I was profoundly glad of that. The carnage was horrific.

The vast majority of the dead and wounded were Crolian, but there were plenty of Westron casualties. Too many. But that's the nature of war. Young people die, and you just pray that the whole thing was worth it - that they gave their lives for a good cause.

Isa had the good sense to remain silent. She let me be.

I left General Leydz in charge, and made my way to the rear.

One of Tudino's aides found me.

- "How is she?" I demanded.

- "She's fine, General." said the young soldier. "She's out of danger."

- "What danger?"

- "She's fine ..."

I brushed past the ensign.

Tudino wasn't dead. She was asleep. Dead drunk, to be accurate. I could imagine how many bottles it had taken to put her in that state.

Doctor Boska had amputated her hand, three or four inches above the wrist.

***

Isa helped me find some honey. I tenderly unwrapped the bandage around Tudino's arm. The stump looked clean enough. I covered it liberally with the honey, and then wrapped it again in the cleanest cloth I could find - one of my spare shirts.

Tudino was only one of over 1200 wounded Westrons and Penchens. We'd also lost almost 400 killed.

One of them was Colonel Cyrte.

She'd always regretted not being involved in the action at Limset. Well, now she'd seen battles, and she'd paid the ultimate price.

It took days to count the Crolian dead, as we dug mass graves and buried them. The proportion of killed to wounded was very high. Abnormally high.

Our troops hadn't been in the mood to take many prisoners, after we'd found those Crolian foragers with the leg of a Westron child in his knapsack. There wasn't much that I could do about it now - even if I'd wanted to.

I'd read about bloody battles, in human history. By that I mean engagements that resembled the ones I'd experienced: muskets, and muzzle-loaded cannon, for the most part.

At Leuthen, in 1757, the Austrians lost a third of the 66,000 men engaged. Many of these were prisoners, though. Frederick the Great lost almost half of his 30,000-man army at Kolin.

At Friedland, in 1809, the Russians lost 40% of their army. At Borodino, 70,000 of the 250,000 men engaged on both sides became casualties.

We never did get an accurate count of the Crolian losses. But by even the most conservative estimates, they'd lost eleven to twelve thousand killed - on the battlefield alone.

There was no way to count how many more perished in the pursuit. Yna didn't return for almost two weeks. Even that vengeful warrior seemed to have had enough, by that time.

As far I could tell, roughly half of the Crolian troops at Feirlan were killed, wounded, or captured. It was enough to satisfy even the most bloodthirsty.

***

Officially, the war dragged on for another six months. Prince Ellem Anry somehow held on to power, rallying just enough of his army to be able to impose his will on his nobles.

We never heard General Ganning's name again.

Kanitz demanded - and got - a sizeable chunk of territory that had once been Westron. Ellem Anry signed a peace treaty - for what that was worth.

There were only a few parades. The Westrons were thoroughly war-weary, by that point. Most everybody was simply relieved that it was all over. I'd seen bigger celebrations after a sports match.

It was understandable. The civilians were tired of a war that just seemed to drag on and on, with no end in sight. Even after Feirlan, it was almost a year before the capital returned to normal.

I did my best to make sure that the soldiers understood how much they were appreciated. I shared all of my prize money - a considerable sum - with the troopers. Spread over twenty-plus regiments, though, it was more like a generous tip than a retirement bonus.

- "That's very generous." said Isa.

- "Not really." I had the Belere, free and clear, plus the remnants of my earlier prize money. Also, I now had the revenues from my lands (formerly Brune's). My family wouldn't suffer for lack of money.

And there were plenty of people who understood what the Army and I had done. If you're waiting for 100% of the population to appreciate what you've achieved ... don't hold your breath.

*****