Behind the Serpent Throne (CK2)

Turn 12: The Battle--Part 6:

The time between the moment when an army decides to move and the moment when the man must face death was a tense one. Dangerous. At best, they were confident, even cocky, one's soldiers. At worst they were overconfident, or ready to break at the first sign of trouble.

This was not a battle, Kiralo thought, as the movements of armies began to kick up dust, where you could expect it to be straightforward.

Neither of them were inexperienced enough to just throw soldiers at one another, and yet even the best case scenario would lead to untold carnage and death.

And he was behind all of it, sipping his tea, waiting for the moment when the cannons fired. He knew people. You had to, to know how best to kill them. That was a depressing thought, but nobody ever said that war was a happy time.

He was good at it, and he couldn't help but say that he enjoyed it. Enjoyed the challenge and the difficulty,and so he didn't hate war in the abstract.

No, it was in the particular that it grew difficult to accept. The pressure didn't help either, the way he knew that any failure now would be written down in the history books for centuries to come, that any misstep could lead to deaths of people who had nothing to do with this battle directly, people who had never raised a sword against any other man.

The enemy was moving, but slowly and carefully, or so it seemed, pushing out with their right and left flanks at the same time. Testing defenses, or so Kiralo would guess.

It was coming, Kiralo knew it. There were tricks and traps, and the sooner he revealed them, the sooner Kiralo could move to staunch the bleeding and overcome them.

He waited, impatiently, and stared at the wall of the pavilion.

********

"C'mon, like this, like this," Jaw-Lung muttered to himself, as Niu stood up, his tea finished. He'd had to drink it quickly, which wasn't proper at all, but he needed to him them early and hit them often. There were advantages to everything, and yet sometimes the simplest option was the one at hand.

He watched the formations, looking in the distance at the mass of men and banners, the bright colors, the people moving. And the spirits, dozens of spirits, masses of color and light and birds all fluttering above head. They'd definitely put in a lot of work into defending themselves.

"Fire as soon as you are loaded," Niu muttered.

It took a minute to be sure of the shots, and Jaw-Lung traveled from cannon to cannon, coaxing each of them to their best performance, and layering the spirits tight as he began pulling out scrolls for the next stage, for the follow up shots.

It took a long time for a cannon to be loaded, so there wouldn't be as long as hoped until the enemy was too close to their men.

The cannons opened fire.

Spirits flared with them, and they fired almost all at once, bypassing the skirmishers, the brave or stupid fellows who were moving ahead of the marching formations, trying to draw out errant shots or foolish wastes on men that would run as soon as they saw real danger, back to the safety of their formation.

Instead, they slammed right into a thick mass of people, still far enough away that the shot was excellent.

Men screamed, and an arm went flying, blood spraying into the air, and then the fires started, the spirits of flame dancing and laughing as they tried to spread their fires. Mischievous little things. And then another ball plowed through the formation, and the enemy ducked, throwing themselves to the ground, what numbers of them were still alive.

Mauled, descecrated corpses littered the battlefield.

Dozens and dozens were dead from the first few shots, and it continued. Armor dented and cast aside by the force of the shot, a severed head rolling out of the way, terror on its face. Death was grisly, but Niu felt nothing more than satisfaction as he gave the order, "Fire! Again! As soon as you can!"

The cannon men didn't need the order. They were already swabbing the cannon, cleaning it out and grabbing the next ball. Each team worked as fast as they could, but it was a long, laborious process, and the men would be vulnerable if things got bad.

They reloaded in time to hit the enemy again, while the enemy formations had been hesitating and drawing up to their full strength. They had numbers, by the Gods they had numbers, this was a major push, but they weren't using them well.

The second barrage hit less men. They were smarter, and spirits moved several of the balls out of the way.

Each cannon roared with fury when it was shot, an almost deafening sound, but they did have some experts there, some men who knew what to do, and the bolts began hitting at the allied formations, and then at the users of the cannons themselves. A dozen feet from Niu, as he watched carefully, the gunnery man went down with a bolt in his eye, screaming.

"Please get him off the field. Perhaps he can be saved, but I think not," Niu said, leaning in a little, watching the chaos. It seemed as if the enemy was pushing hard, and yet they didn't seem to be finding success. Clouds of dust were kicked up as the forces finally met in a violent clash at the base of the hill. They bought every inch with bodies, but on they went, on and on and on, and Niu turned. "Send a message to the general."

********

Left and right.

Kiralo looked at the map. Were they trying to draw away the center? But if they were putting all of that strength on their right, then what were they going to do on the left. They were pushing hard there, too, but there were only so many troops. Only so many ways one could push.

"Come on, you bastard, son of bastards," Kiralo muttered, "what's your trick?"

********

"This is too fucking easy," Kueli shouted, loosing another arrow, and then another, tearing into the enemy's formation as they advanced. Death was not new to Kueli, and he didn't wince at the corpses that began to pile up. The enemy army marched on ahead without them, the men falling behind, wounded or dead or terrified.

There were too many of them, and they tensed up, slowed down a little each time Kueli brought his horses around and around. They had shields and spears, and the bolts they fired fell far short of the speed of the Rassit.

Attack and fade. Attack and fade. Time passed fast and slow in the chaos of war. Kueli's heart was racing as he hit the enemy again and again, chipping away at them. But with their numbers, there was no way he could stop the clash.

Csiritan Gods be damned, they were still coming on. And their bolts finally, as the sun finished rising, bathing the world in early morning light, started to hit home. This was going to cost him.

********

The cannoneer squinted in the sunlight, groaning a little and covering his eyes with his hands as he said, "Down a little! Hit them as they're reinforcing!"

The sun was making it hard, but those bastards were paying, those godless, Emperor hating monsters!

For the Emperor!

*******

The cannons seemed to come from nowhere, and open up from nowhere at all. One moment, Kueli was riding, and the next, he was almost thrown off his horse as the cannons opened up on the Rassit.

Kueli whistled, and his men began to withdraw, Kueli riding at their head, moving to meet up with reinforcements, more of the light cavalry. Not Rassit, but now was a time to swing around, to start to really threaten them. The enemy, though, that was a smart move.

Fucking stupid, but smart too. He'd lost men in those chaotic moments. The enemy was going to hit the left with cannons, and--

What in the name of the spirits was that!

*******

The formations on the Imperial left clashed and met, and then it was torn asunder.

And then came the angry men, the huge formation of strange barbarians, paper scrolls on their faces.

"Spirits!" General Hu-lai-go yelled, and then the enemy hit with the force of a Sea-Raider attack.

********

Kiralo stood up when he heard the news. "What? Sea-Raiders, does he have...no, wait, paper. Ji'lae, is this what I think?"

"He's controlling the prisoners that way. They're all, I've heard of them, sir," Ji'lae said, snatching the paper from Kiralo's hand to read. "These are Berserkers. Madmen, and they're also using, Gods, they're using spirit bottles. Gunpowder bombs."

And there it was, there was the trick.

*******
By a little past 6 AM, as far as estimates can be made, the Imperial army was pushed hard on both sides. Prince Jinhai had used captured Sea-Raiders as part of a shock troop force, and Cs-Kiralo of Lineage Ainin was receiving requests from both wings. The situation was in both not desperate, but definitely pressing, with the forces on both sides slowly giving ground.

The bloodletting was horrific, and the cannons reaped a terrible toll on both sides, and yet it was the Imperial cannons that did the most damage, from the markings of grave patterns that we've found.
--The Battle That Shook An Empire, a popular history book talking about the battle.

Pressure on the left, pressure on the right. What to do (left)

[] Tell them to hold on. From what Kiralo can tell of the chaotic situation, Kueli is still out there, and the Rassit should help to weaken the enemy some. If they can just hold there, then that's good.
[] Reinforce them from the center.
[] Reinforce them from the reserves.

What to do (right)

[] Tell them to hold on.
[] Reinforce from center.
[] Reinforce from the reserves.

********


A/N: Feel a little blah about this, tell me if you agree, but still.

Carefully consider what you know. Consider what Kiralo knows for sure about the enemy's forces. He had scouts looking at the army, he had Kueli ride around the whole thing.

Also, to explain. Taking it once from the reserves will deplete it moderately, taking it twice will basically use them up. Taking it once from the center is minor, twice from the center drastic, but there will still be a center, just less strong. Choosing what goes where and why matters at this point.