Behind the Serpent Throne (CK2)

Turn 12--The Battle: Part 5--Before Dawn

This was not a game, Kiralo thought. And yet in some ways, it could be mistaken for one. Prince Jinhai was a man who relied on solid tactics, yes, but he was also a man who had used multiple tricks so far. And Kiralo had no reason not to suspect that he'd continue to do so in the future.

The meeting had gone well, the words unspoken hadn't been picked up, the ideas and plans that weren't to be said.

Scouts in the night. His Rassit scouts, his fifty proud men, were not trained for battle, particularly. Not that they were anything like incompetent, they were perfectly good Rassit. But he'd trained them and picked them all for their special talents at moving fast and quietly, at taking the lay of the land--talents that made them adequate couriers.

There was an army out there, perhaps, and one that might need to know where to go.

What tricks did Jinhai have? First, there were the cannons. His previous battles had shown that he knew the value of cannons, knew how dangerous the Sea Raider mastery of gunpowder was, and there were enough rumors and hints that at the very least, Jinhai would have had to have brought a few large siege cannons, and it was likely he had a few light cannons. Fewer, though, than Kiralo had, and Kiralo had made sure that the exact number wasn't easily guessed, that there were enough fakes and enough jockeying around that all that Jinhai would know was that Kiralo probably had more than he did.

Same with the light cavalry. He had used fast and mobile units to decent effect. Kueli's report, once you slipped past the dismissive nature of it, seemed to say that while they were nothing against the Rassit, they were equal to the light cavalry that Kiralo had trained up over the weeks and weeks he'd had.

If they had gone up against anyone else, they'd be superior to the frankly bad horsemen that he'd helped mold into stronger bowmen and stronger riders. And he'd have had more of them than a Csiritan normally had, especially once he added the support he'd been drawing on in Hari-Su. Instead, he was again second best, again having to play catch up with Kiralo's advantage there.

But it did mean he had a force that was capable of at least answering the Rassit, however quietly. Except they'd taken hard losses. And more importantly, they'd lost. There was a moral force to such a defeat. They would know that they had faced an enemy force and been badly mauled, and so hopefully they would shy and fail.

And Mages? The aggressor, the traitor, always had an advantage there. Or at least enough of an advantage that if Kiralo had not been close to the Academy, things might not have gone as well as they should go, all in all.

Each advantage that Jinhai had to deploy, Kiralo had him one better at.

Which meant that there was something Kiralo was missing. Some sort of trap that couldn't be easily seen.

In the darkness of the night before he drifted off, his guard doubled at this crucial time, he tried to grasp what it was.

******

He woke before dawn. They all did. Two hours before dawn, the order to march was given out. Across the way, the enemy camp seemed asleep as the manuevers began. The formations formed, huge squares of men, deep and long. When you had this many men, it meant that to be a foot soldier on the ground, marching out with shield and spear, though some had swords or other side-weapons out of their own personal stores, you couldn't even begin to see the other side of the battlefield. Couldn't try, and that was without the dust and smoke and chaos and topography all working against you.

Kiralo, though, wasn't a footsoldiers. He was back with the reserves, listening to reports. Other generals were there, people who were not all that useful, all things considered. But he had useful men at the right places.

Pao was on the left side, behind the back. He wasn't the fiercest general when it came to head on collisions, and this was Csirit, not the Southlands. So he wasn't going to be charging directly at the enemy, not unless he had to be. So it would be a good place for him. He had a skirmisher's mind, that meant he'd be able to judge from afar the situation. How things stood there would matter quite a bit.

And then, in the center, ready to move either way, there was Jun. It was a hero's post, not quite the reserves, but certainly the first unit of men that would be moved if it came time to shore up a weakening piece of his army.

And Niu? He'd been put with the cannon experts on the ridge. And he'd been ordered that once they reached there, that he was to hold it at all possible costs. He'd been given the forces to do it, and while he wasn't the only commander in the area, Kiralo had made it clear by word and deed that he would be the one making the important decisions involving the cannons, and he had sent Jaw-Lung to join him, to lend his spirit-driven expertise to the matter of the cannons.

Ji'lae was nearby, with the reserve, and Ayila was somewhat ahead, surrounded by a number of guards and ready to move one way or the next to staunch the flow of any attack.

Spears poked up like blades of grass when he watched it all. The camp was more secure than it could have been, thanks to his preparations and the Mages, and he knew that as much as he could do, he'd done.

"I'm going to go off to the left now, Kiralo," Kueli said, having stepped off his horse.

Kiralo was sitting halfway in a pavilion of sorts, with a quickly drawn map of the battle itself drawn out for him, with where he was putting his forces. Of course, it would quickly be outdated, but he had drinks and food here, and it was not the place for a General at all. He wasn't even on his horse, as Kueli would soon be.

Perspective in this case was just another word for cursed distance, though with as many men as there were, he knew it made sense.

"Make sure to remember. You're as much a threat as a weapon. Don't allow your forces to be bloodied, their strength seen to be weakened, unless you see a real opportunity."

Kueli laughed, "And now you seek to lecture me? I will be fine Kiralo."

He swept out before he could hear Kiralo murmur, "I hope so."

*******

"The men are lagging," Kiralo muttered. "They need to understand that if they don't make it to the hills in time, it'll only mean harder fighting. Please make that into a note," he said, glancing over at a scribe that was sitting near the back of the pavilion of war.

The scribe winced and gracefully wrote out a message, which he then handed into the round-helped guard to hand to a runner. Off he ran.

It was still some time until dawn, and Kiralo glanced at the rice wine for a moment, and shook his head.

"It's a trap," Ji'lae said, the young, vibrant man looking annoyed in his silver armor, frustrated that he was here. Very Southlander in that respect. He was here to advise Kiralo in matters of warfare and magic. "They must have--"

"We've cleared it out," Kiralo said with a grim smile, "a few wild spirits and a few assassins and scouts in the hills. They meant to disrupt us at the exact wrong moment, I know. It's an obvious trap, and I expect that whether it works or not, he'll move to disrupt our march first."

But he didn't move immediately, and a message came in as that happened, reporting that the men were moving faster.

They were ten minutes from the hills when reports came. The enemy had started moving, massing on their left side (Kiralo's right) and were advancing towards the hills. Slowly, though, clearly drawing their men together and trying to time it perfectly.

But the cannons were being hauled as fast as they could, and the Imperial army would get there first, easily in fact, and hopefully with enough time to set up.

He imagined the time, closed his eyes and imagined the silver-colored armor of the Empire. Both sides were in fact armored quite similarly. And so it would be the banners that would help tell one from another, as it did in the Southlands.

"They've reached the hills, Cs-Kiralo," a messenger strode in to say. The man paused for a moment, "Are there any instructions?"

"Niu is to use his wisdom as to when to begin using the cannons," Kiralo said, "and he has my blessing. May the Gods bless his Spirits, and may Jaw-Lung serve him well. I have full trust in him and the skill of the professional cannoneers."

Nobody was playing games now, not really. No general wanted to take his position if it meant fighting this battle. But it didn't hurt to be diplomatic, and it was true. He would know far too little about the way that the enemy was massing, he'd miss too much.

As long as the cannons were there, and the thousands of men crowding over the top and at the side of the hills, it should work out. At least for the moment.

Now it was for the waiting, as dawn began to inch closer. Unless something slowed down, though, there would be a fight before the sun rose. And when it did, from the angle, it'd rise behind Jinhai's forces.

Was that the trick? No, there was… something else going on.

*******

Niu did not bark orders very well. It was a small failing of his, and he knew that it was wise to admit your failings rather than show a lack of sense. Still, the military men were cursing, and the cannon-loaders were sweating and straining as they placed the forces on the most dismal hills that Niu had ever seen.

Niu had been on this earth for forty-three years, and he did not intend to end them here. There was no way to get out of the line of threat, not really. Not and command the troops protecting and leading the cannons.

He knew the math of such things. He'd studied it as he had studied the will of the Gods and the proper length for one's fingernails to represent both utility and a careful approximation of a lack of utility.

You wanted to be a little useless, because that was the court: and he liked that about it. Show him a world without ornamentation, and he'd show you a world without standards.

"They're going to come in the dark, and then, after that, the light of the rising sun. Try to throw us off both ways," Jaw-Lung said, "it's a classic trick. We could deal with both with the use of spirits, but I wonder what it is that the boss expects of us. Cs-Kiralo saying he trusted us, have you thought about what that means? I mean, we're going to be going into battle in just a moment." Jaw-Lung was a young man who was all elbows and ankles, with large hands and a gawky, thin frame. Withered away a little, but with huge, wide eyes and a bright smile. A monomaniac on certain topics.

"I know this," Niu said, "and what he is doing is trusting us to be competent. We can do nothing except fulfill his wishes. We must stand here, that the enemy breaks here." He raised his voice just a little bit while saying this. "Jaw-Lung! Are you ready?"

"I am," Jaw-Lung said, "they should be here before too long. Die in the dark and in the light."

"Dont' all men?" Niu muttered to himself, as he began to repeat the names of a few of his favorite Gods. Those that dealt with peace. He didn't need help with war. War was something he thought he could handle.

Nerves jangled, but control was a part of civilization. Wild barbarians might scream and yelp before battle, but a proper Csiritan ordered his servants to fetch herbal tea.

And then fetch a blanket as well, because the hills were not the sort you sat on, not if you didn't want to ruin your armor.

He sipped and thought about the foremost problem to face. It was certainly a problem: Kiralo had given the orders not to advance even if the men seemed like they were breaking, unless he gave the order. And he'd said to hold no matter what, no matter the cost. That was easy. But what about the cannons? When should they fire?

He had mentioned that the enemy would have cannons too. Would they try to turn it into a duel?

If so, then firing early on might show them otherwise, overawe them, and it'd weaken the enemy, cause them to fear approach. But it would also do less damage by surprise, even if he'd made sure to have enough cannonballs for anything. But it'd also last longer, perhaps, by a little.

Or he could wait until just before the enemy attacked. There were risks there, certainly.

And if he waited until they were charging up the hill? Or at least, up the first hill, since there were a grouping of them, some next to each other, some back and forward. But all of them with a decent aim on the front.

He'd had to have the forces staggered out. No simple line of troops here to protect them. Some on the hill, some below the hills, some around the hills. But a field fo fire that meant that if they waited for the full charge, until the enemy couldn't stop, it would be brutal. But if the enemy pressed on, what if it was too late?

There was an art to this.

If he failed this, people would die.

If he succeeded, even more would die.

For the Emperor, he must not fail!

Wait for it! When to start firing/reveal the cannons in their full numbers, might, and… fully armed and operational status?

[] As soon as they are within range.
[] As soon as they are within crossbow bolt range, and thus near the time when they'd start advancing for real.
[] Once they're committed, and moving faster than a slow walk, close and going up the hill.

******


A/N: Alright, and so here we go. It's something!