by Chris Hechtl
“We've got our people in the battle line so they can relay orders as needed,” Perry answered with a smile. “They have orders to stay out of the thick of it and in command.”
“Odd, I'd think they would have had a lot more arrows,” Ryans said quietly. “They were said to be as thick as clouds in battles like these.”
Perry grunted. “Count yourself lucky.” He nodded to the shield carriers. Every third soldier in the footmen and bowmen carried a roman style shield. He used it to cover his countrymen from the enemy archers.
“Duluth has been laying siege to Duke Emroy for some time,” the general said gravely. “I believe they can salvage some of the arrows, and some fell into his hands from the captured armories of keeps nearby, but he hasn't taken the time to make more apparently.”
“Apparently,” Ryans nodded. He winced when he caught sight of a few men missing the incoming missiles and taking casualties. Some were mortal, many were nonfatal fortunately. That is, if they could get back to Doc and the others before they bled out. He turned back to the main line just as they reached point alpha.
Shields glittered in the morning sun. Both sides were using various shield designs, bucklers for the bowmen and women, larger affairs for the infantry. Duluth was more haphazard; the men were mixed in and not divided by similar styles of weapons like the Imperials.
“We better get a move on before the heat hits,” the general sighed. He took a sip from a clay canteen. “Water, bah,” he grimaced in distaste. He waved vigorously to the nearest knight then touched his radio. “Forward elements march.”
The center of their line began to march forward. The cavalry began to circle out, like horns. The enemy cavalry immediately went out to meet them. Perry snorted as he heard a few shots ring out. “That cavalry’s in for a surprise,” he said grimly. The shots ended.
The giant animals pawed at the ground and then began to move forward. Like giant war elephants they were festooned with men and armor. Archers began to rain arrows on the battlefield. Shields were raised to ward them off.
“Dress those lines,” the general murmured. The center reformed into a proper box. “Lances forward,” he murmured. Long pole lances were brought up and pointed out over the shoulders of the men turning the center into a hedgehog.
“Okay Scooter, you’re up,” Perry murmured. The Strykers came up from under the tents and through the lines. They moved to the center of the formation. The lead Stryker fired off a tow missile, the missile slammed into the lead enemy titan beast, tearing it apart. It toppled to the ground with a dying groan. The other animals shrieked in fear and rage as their leader died. A second missile struck, then a third. A tusk was blown off one of the animals; it spun off into another animal impaling it. The wounded animal screamed and turned away from its wounded flank ripping its tethers out in terror. Men tried to control the terrified beasts but they were too terror stricken to obey. They turned, opening the center.
The Strykers pulled up beside the front line as they all stopped. The Duluth animals rampaged through the enemy ranks, throwing them into disorder. Dust clouded the area. Men and animals screamed. “Now,” Perry murmured.
The second group moved forward, the rifle and musket men. They charged forward at double pace, and then came to an abrupt halt as they reached their mark. “Make Ready! Aim! Fire!” the centurion in charge ordered, raising his sword. Muskets flashed and thundered. Enemy soldiers began to fall like wheat. Ryans could hear the occasional crack of a sniper picking off enemy officers. He didn't envy the men in all that smoke though. The muskets were terrible, clouding the entire area with blue and gray haze.
<==={}------------>
Art’ur's eyes were wide in shock as his great titans were torn apart in front of his eyes. His men were falling in droves to the strange slug throwing thunder spears. He frowned, turning, trying to think of something, anything to do to counter this.
Uuôden grimaced, knowing the battle was already lost. “My liege...”
“What?!” Art’ur snarled, turning, enraged. He was fully ready to kill the old fool for cowardice if he suggested they retreat.
“I suggest we reform and try to flank them my lord,” Uuôden said simply, ignoring the danger. “If we wheel right...”
“Make it so,” the King snarled turning to his mount. He would fight or die; he knew he couldn't live with the shame of leaving this battlefield with less than a victory. To hell with the future, to hell with anything except taking one of the bastards down with him.
<==={}------------>
“Make READY!” the tesserariuses called, looking over their men with fierce glowers. The Duluth army seemed to gloat as the pipes played a mournful dirge. Now it would be their turn, their turn for revenge. Pikes lowered as they hit the three hundred meter mark.
“Front rank steady!” Two hundred meters. They could hear the nervous jeers as thousands of men banged on their shields with their swords and axes. Many weren't dressed for war, nervous pathetic looking peasants dressed in improvised leather, carrying sticks and banging on anything to keep their courage up. The greenest of the Imperium's soldiers looked a little nervous to their fellows, but set their jaws and got down to the grim business at hand.
“Take aim!” One fifty meters.
“Second rank forward, First rank fire!” the centurion called. The tesserariuses echoed the call. Cracks of thunder spread across the front rank with puffs of smoke hard on their heels. Duluth men in the first ranks staggered and fell like marionettes with their strings cut.
“Front rank KNEEL!” the tesserariuses called out. The front rank knelt in a carefully coordinated and well rehearsed move to reload as the second rank came forward and fired over their shoulders. Then the second rank knelt in well trained order as the third came forward to take their turn to fire. When they fired the first rank stood as the third knelt. They took aim at the mass of now bewildered men and fired. The carefully coordinated lethal ballet began to unfold.
Chaos ensued on the Duluth side. The thunder of the rounds broke some as they saw their fellows smashed to the ground or torn apart before their eyes with no chance of hitting back.
They turned to flee or fell to their knees begging for what mercy they could get. Knights rode along behind the terrified footmen, trying to keep order. Their fellows marched out in ragged lines. The Imperium riflemen and snipers began picking the riders off. Without someone to force them forward pockets began to slow or hang back or fall into disorder as they turned to flee the meat grinder in front of them.
“I think he's got a whiff of what he's up against,” Perry smiled as one of the enemy war beasts rampaged through the enemy camp. “Too bad we don't have more muskets,” he sighed as some of the Duluth men got wise and tried to flank the center box.
“Can't have that,” he said. He ordered men forward to cover the flanks. The orderly rows of men snapped into a three sided box two men deep. Footmen slotted in on either side of each musketeer to keep the lice off them.
“Time for the artillery?” Ryans asked concerned. The archers were firing now; flaming arrows were raining down all over the battlefield on both sides. Fires were springing up here and there on the battlefield. Animals shied away from them.
“No, they're zeroed for right where our men are,” Perry answered not looking at him. “Wait for it,” he said. He sighed as he checked the camera feed in front of him. A cavalry unit ran through a foot platoon. Men flew and gore sprayed from the animals' teeth and claws.
“Crap,” Perry grumbled, wincing at the carnage. “Scooter do something about that,” he growled touching his throat mike.
“With pleasure sir,” Scooter answered. Machine guns opened up in triple shot. The enemy cavalry units began to fall. Some were falling because of the sound, apparently a third of the Duluthian cavalry were branacks. They twitched and kicked on the ground in seizures as their riders were crushed or thrown.
Off to either side the main cavalry battle had ended in a stalemate on the lef
t flank and a rout on the right. The Duluth enemy was in full retreat, animals dragging wounded and dying men behind them. Some of the predatory running animals saw the dragging bodies and lunged at them, predatory instincts taking over.
The stalemate on the other flank was messy, the Duluth unit seeing the Imperium had the range advantage had charged headlong into their lines. The battle was down to melee fighting negating the rifle's main advantage.
Lewis in the ultra light passed overhead, tossing bombs down into clusters of enemy soldiers. Her ultra light nearly clipped one of the UAVs. “Lewis, knock that shit off, I want you to ride cap. I need info more than I need you crashing,” Ryans called.
“Roger,” Lewis answered sheepishly. She was about out of grenades anyway, she thought.
“Real hellion you've got there,” the general snorted. “If I was only twenty years younger I'd give her a try,” he said with a grin. Perry snorted.
“Edfield, report,” Perry murmured touching his mike.
“No joy,” Edsfield’s voice whispered over the com. Their primary sniper had his own special mission.
“Wait then,” Perry sighed in answer. The comm. clicked twice.
Master Sergeant Waters called in. “This is Three. The center is down to half load. They need resupply,” he growled. They barely made him out over the battle sounds around the noncom. Some of the arrows and cross bow bolts had reached their lines, they were taking casualties now.
“Pull back in an orderly retreat,” the general ordered.
“Retreat under fire?” the Sergeant asked. “Marines don't retreat,” he growled.
“We're not retreating, we're advancing in a different direction Sarge, and you know the plan, now stick to it. That's an order,” Perry cut in. Two clicks answered him.
<==={}------------>
Art’ur's eyes narrowed as the strange gaijin carriages remained in the center, taunting him. He'd love to have at least one of the bastards, to take them and their interfering ways down. He pointed his sword to the lead carriage and snarled an order to Uuôden.
Uuôden turned, hiding his stinging eyes as he hoarsely passed on the order. He knew his men were going to be slaughtered and could do nothing to stop it. Nothing at all, he thought in his misery. Nothing but watch.
<==={}------------>
The center began to pull back as casualties mounted. The retreat was orderly, the footmen covered for the rifles with their shields the best they could. Men helped or carried their wounded comrades off the field. They were careful to carry any rifles along with them.
As they fell back the Duluth army reformed. After a few minutes they moved forward once more. Knights made a half hearted charge, only to fall back as the center paused and turned to give them a full broadside.
“He's moved forward, yep, the lords are moving to the front to lead,” Edfield reported. “No joy,” he breathed. Art’ur rearranged his lines as the Imperium did. There was a lull in the center battle as both sides moved wounded men to the rear and got their survivors organized.
The deadlocked cavalry fell back in disarray on both sides. The Imperium fighters fired shots as they fell back. Many men were hanging from their saddles.
“Your vehicles are just sitting there,” the general said concerned.
“We're going to give them a taste of a machine gun,” Perry said as the vehicles began to pull back. “But we've got to get them in the bag first. Have them heading toward us so it's hard for them to change direction once the shit begins to fly.”
“You mean get his pecker stuck in deep before you chop it off,” Ryans said wincing. The general flinched as well and then went back to watching the battle.
Duluth soldiers began to chivvy up to the line. Knights rode behind them, turning or cutting down any that tried to turn and run. They were forced into a forward march, then grimly into a running charge. Perry winced.
“This isn't going to be pretty,” he sighed. “All right Scooter, let her rip,” he ordered.
The snarl of machine guns immediately cut through the noise of the charge. Short bursts, tearing into the enemy ranks. Then guns swept back and forth as the vehicles retreated, cutting down the men closest and then working back through the ranks. Men began to fall like wheat.
As they reached the center of the field the general pumped his fist. “Artillery, fire one!” A mortar round flew out from each gun, then down to explode into the ranks of the men who screamed in new terror. Water's voice came over the radio, having them adjust fire. They fired several more shots and then Perry ordered them to fire for effect.
The barrage was devastating. Machine guns in the front, artillery raining down from above and now behind, the knights behind them pushing them forward, and the Duluth footmen were caught in a sausage grinder. Hundreds, then thousands died.
“This isn't a battle it's a slaughter,” Perry murmured disgusted. The vehicles paused in front of their reforming lines. Gaps opened as more field pieces moved forward.
Each of the field pieces was loaded with grapeshot canisters. They held their fire however, the enemy army was disintegrating.
“My lord we must reform. We need time. Time to get our men in order, to reform our ranks,” Uuôden said urgently to Art’ur, knowing it was useless. At least they were both up on war beasts, away from the men around them.
“And retreat?” Art’ur snarled, mouth twisting in a rictus of rage on his general. “Are you a coward?” he snarled, nearly bellowing in helpless rage.
“No my lord, but we must do something. Our men are being slaughtered! We must pull back and regain something! Sue for peace before our people fall completely!” Uuôden said, pointing his battle ax to the battlefield.
“Never!” Art’ur raged, waving his sword. “Never so long as this crown is on my head! Never I say! Prepare to charge! Any who turn back will be cut down!”
<==={}------------>
“Target in range,” Ryans didn't recognize the voice at first over the din of the distant battle. Edsfield his memory finally recalled in the pause. “Clear shot. Engaging.”
A fifty caliber round flew from the sniper half way up the hill. It tore down range, dropping by two meters right into the center of the King of Duluth's chest. His leather and steel armor tore apart like tissue paper. His body was torn apart on his mount, splashing those around him in gore. Chaos was total as his terrified mount rode off with the bottom half of the corpse still in the saddle. The red haired man next to him gaped but then his head was torn off by the follow up shot.
“They're breaking up,” the general crowed as the remaining army looked over their shoulders to see their King fall and then threw down their weapons to run. Knights tried to rally or stop them only to be overwhelmed or even torn from their mounts by their own panicked men and animals. They couldn't stop the tide if they had wanted too; it was going in the wrong direction. Those that tried fell before it.
“This is Six, we've got scrambled eggs. Catcher's are on,” Ryans said. He waved. A signal man raised flags and began to wave them. Off in the distance cavalry units and the light attack vehicles that had been held in reserve for this moment rode forth. He caught a sight of golden hair and looked with the binoculars. His lips pursed as he watched Deidra’s snarling beast charge across the battlefield.
“We didn't even get to use our own titans or war beasts,” the general sighed. He sounded almost disappointed. “Magnificent,” he murmured shaken. “I see war has taken a dangerous new turn.”
Perry grimaced, turning away to hide it. “Yeah,” he said, thoroughly sick to his stomach from the carnage. They were fortunately upwind, away from the stench of blood and guts. The screams of the wounded and dying could be imagined though.
Already Doc and Wanda were moving forward. He spotted the Red Cross carriages moving forward. There were a pair of guards that were supposed to be covering the medics but instead were immediately pressed into service. “All right people,” Perry said clearing his throat and getting his bearings
over the link. “Post battlefield chores. Let’s secure a perimeter and round up prisoners and cover the medics. Get litter teams out to triage the wounded. Ours first of course. Waters see if you can catch some of the enemy officers and get them to surrender,” he ordered. He looked over to the general who was sitting back drinking from a glass.
“Not quite tea time sir, we've got some chores to do,” Perry frowned. He wave to the battle. “We've got a lot to do if we want to keep those people alive,” he said. He watched as Newban's artillery began to shell the Chinese machine guns set up to cover the nearest gate. Men were running for their lives, abandoning the machines.
The general sighed, glancing at his glass. “Work is never done,” he said. He nodded.
“Duke Emroy is coming out,” Ryans said pointing. Both men turned to see the battered draw bridge creak down and the portcullis rise. After a minute or so, men tentatively came out, then stepped hastily aside as riders rode past.
“It's called a sally Ryans,” Perry replied absently. “Better late than never I guess.”
“He wanted to make sure it was worth it. Didn't want to commit since we were under strength,” Ryans answered watching the mop up through his binoculars. One of the gunners got out of her Stryker. A bowman shot her in the arm. Her driver slammed the vehicle in gear and ran him down. Ryans winced, imagining the crunch. He watched Corporal Patterson hunch over her arm, her good hand covering the wound.
“Catchers are out, hope they get most of them before they turn into locusts.”
“We're going to have a bandit problem for quite some time,” the general growled.
Ryans nodded. “Yes sir, that's why the more we catch now the less we'll have to deal with later,” he said. The general grunted.
<==={}------------>
Rojer was bewildered by the sudden change in fortune. Indeed, he was gratified that he had survived; that he hadn't had to be called to battle at all was both a blessing and a curse. The other lords were as shocked as he was, standing in their stirrups and shading their eyes to look out into the battlefield.
