by Jeffrey Cook
With their leadership being picked off, their surprise gone, and their strongest falling one by one, enough Maori to have crushed us in time, had they kept fighting, fell back upon habit. They attacked, then retreated, falling back into the woods or back towards more fortified positions. It is odd that it is in this place and time that I gain the greatest appreciation for discipline to supplement a person's courage. Many of those I have served with could have wished even a fraction of the heart and courage which seems near universal among the Maori – but between two armies with equal courage, it was the more disciplined one that won the skirmish, despite a disadvantage of numbers.
Whatever their previous insight, they showed no signs of having expected us to push past this ambush at all, certainly not so fast. There were shouts of surprise and sounds of sudden rushed motion ahead as we pursued those fleeing towards the former French encampment. We continued to advance, coming upon the perimeter of their camp and the last of our cover.
As we came into sight of their camp, we paused. The tree line had been cut down to provide the fort clear line of sight. In the cleared area were a vast number of posts. Topping each post was a human skull, often still bearing bits of hair or flesh, and all wearing the caps of French soldiers. The Maori did not place these, for while they will certainly leave sign to warn away enemies, it is not in this fashion. Sickeningly, York or some part of his troop had descended to even greater barbarism than these natives. Despite all I had seen and done, I lost my command briefly to be sick.
Beyond this, we could see the target laid before us and the challenge it presented. Most of the positions we had attacked were but basic and quickly constructed fortifications, rarely more than walls. We now faced a fully constructed fortress, guarded by muskets and cannons.
Four guard towers stood at the corners of the fortress, each bearing its own cannons, signs of rocket emplacements, and with clear lines of sight onto the field. While the towers stood, there would be no clear approach for either the airship or infantry. York's own craft was moored, floating low, over the central fortress. Bolstered by the sight of their own fortifications and the commands of officers who had remained with the fort, the enemy retreat stopped at the fortress walls, and Maori troops began massing to prepare to repel us.
While we had cover, Eddy called Miss Bowe over, the two talking quickly. When they had finished, Eddy found a tall, sturdy tree to climb to get a better look at the battle, then called Matthew to join him. Though obviously strained by the exertion, he adjusted his goggles as always, sighting in the nearest tower. Miss Bowe prepared a torch for herself, whistled for the ornithopter, and took off straight at the enemy, with one hand holding onto her machine, a blazing torch in the other, and a knife stuck between her teeth.
Eddy shot three times in rapid succession, and with each shot, one of the muskets on the walls of the tower nearest us fell from the walls, clearing a path of approach for the woman and her flying machine. The cannons were not prepared to fire upward, and while other muskets fired and a couple rockets were launched, they were prepared for an airship coming in from above, not a small and maneuverable target. The sight of a single person in flight had a similar effect on the enemy as it had on some of our own allies. Some even fled in terror, regardless of what hold their leadership and York's witch doctor have on them, helping to further clear her way.
When she reached the guard tower, Miss Bowe dropped down, sending the ornithopter upward to circle out of easy musket range. After that, aside from the strange sight of the flying machine circling the fortification like some buzzard waiting for remains, there was nothing. It seemed like hours, but was likely not more than a few minutes. Still far too long for comfort. When we next saw Miss Bowe, she did not have the torch. She was fighting her way up the stairs to the top of the tower roof.
At a new whistle, the ornithopter dove as she leaped from the walls. Just behind her, fire erupted from the building, and as she caught the flying machine, the tower's store of rockets and powder exploded in a ball of fire. The shock from the explosion sent both tumbling through the air, and suddenly the enemy ranks gathered there were fleeing from the flaming tower.
We had our distraction, and we had targets running towards us. Our lines began to shoot down those fleeing the explosion, catching them between the fire and our lines. When we had sufficient confusion, our warriors rushed ahead into their ranks, trampling down enemies under their mad rush in the only path we would get.
Eddy and Matthew fell quickly to their usual teamwork with the rifles, and Eddy began to pick off enemy muskets and cannon crews at long range, limiting the fire we would come under from the next-nearest tower and the fortress walls. Now having an angle of approach where there would be no rockets, the dirigible advanced, and Miss Coltrane dropped down into the midst of the battle.
We had one of the guard towers cleared, but we had to take another if we were going to have any chance of massing troops close to the fortress walls, or even advancing in numbers. Otherwise, we would come under cannon fire and muskets with clear sight lines to our advance. While we had a distraction and attention was focused on Miss Coltrane, many of our spearmen charged onto the field to support her attack. Some were shot down, but many reached her position to help in a direct assault.
The charge was expensive, but she reached the tower wall at a run. Her first strike shook many of the enemy troops on the walls and nearly cracked the tower wall open. A second blow from her functional arm finished the job, opening a gap in their defenses. Maori from both sides surged into the gap, fighting for space. Miss Coltrane took the opportunity to heft some of the debris of the wall, using it as a missile against one of the cannon crews.
The enemy began to reorganize, but most of the attention was placed on the new assault. Even with Miss Coltrane, I was unsure the small group fighting for control of the entry to the tower would win out, so I chanced the odds. With a number of new spearmen stepping in to reinforce my apparent honor guard where their brothers had fallen, I led my troops forward to reinforce her. There were many close calls and small skirmishes along the way, but no one had their focus on me, and we were able to reach the second guard tower.
With fighting at that tower still furious, many of the men with me took to scaling the walls instead. Eddy figured out this new plan from his sniper position, and took down those few of the enemy who were still on guard against this tactic. Fighting began at the top level of the tower among my enterprising troops and their remaining gunmen and cannon crews, whose weapons were not as well suited to close combat as they were to firing on us from above.
With the efforts to repel our assault divided and Miss Coltrane drawing the most attention, I was able to lead a small crew past the defenses at the gap in the wall and head up the stairs, fighting our way through defenders to eventually secure one of their cannons. With help in muscling it around, I was able to fire on one of the cannon emplacements still in enemy hands. Sadly, I did not have the words to explain reloading and was forced to resume fighting with my pistol, guarded by spearmen.
We managed to take the second tower at last. There was still a great deal of fighting in the field, especially at the doorway into the courtyard, but we had reduced York's firing lines and had some cover, though the tower was badly damaged by our assault. More and more of our men fought their way to our position, eventually including Eddy and his muskets. He reported that the enemy was regrouping, preparing to hold the courtyard and launch a renewed assault on our position. With Eddy and Matthew's help, I was able to reload the cannon. Eddy moved to man another one, with Matthew scrambling back and forth to help each. While it took Eddy's rifle temporarily out of the fight, we were able to draw attention and deal more damage to the fortress walls and its gun emplacements with the cannons, difficult as the process was.
Even with that, it is possible, had it been his goal, that York could have forced us into a stalemate for a time, but seeking to restore the momentum he'd lost, he'd have none of it.
In a surprisingly short time, a newly inspired – or newly terrified – enemy charged us en masse. Many of our allies were caught in the open, not expecting the enemy to regroup so fast, before they could reach our fortified point. Our muskets took to the walls, with Eddy, Matthew, and myself doing what we could to handle two cannons between us. (11)
We did what we could from there, but the battlefield quickly descended into a scene from hell. It wasn't long before I couldn't distinguish friend from foe, save having an awareness there were far more foes in the tangled mass below. It wasn't long before our muskets were useless for supporting most of our troops, and instead had to concentrate on stopping the enemy from breaching the gap in our walls, holding the door, or shooting down enemy troops trying to scale the walls as we had. Inexact cannon fire into the walls and courtyard continued to serve as a small distraction, but Eddy felt he offered more to the fight returning to sniping, with Matthew racing between his position and mine to aid us each in turn.
With no real hope of doing any great damage, I kept trying to force the enemy in the courtyard and on the walls to continue to divide their attention and account for being under fire. Meanwhile, York and his crew had not seemed to have given the Maori much instruction in manning the cannons, so for the time at least, the fire coming back at us was even more imprecise. Even so, one shell hit very near us, shaking the walls and almost dislodging Matthew.
With her own guard of warriors, Miss Penn made her way to our tower, adding nothing to the fight save presenting a target, but that at least ensured for a time we knew where some of the enemy's strongest warriors would be. She had lost half her guard by the time she reached us, but those who remained seemed proud of their service and ready to continue.
They approached the wall, where she said something about needing to reach the Moroccan. I did not catch all of it over musket and cannon fire, but the intent was clear, and we knew either way that we would need to take not just a tower, but the enemy fortress itself, or eventually they would overwhelm us here. The only way to defeat our foe was to take their leadership, morale, and driving force today, or we were lost. As it was, since the explosion, we had seen no sign of Miss Bowe. Miss Coltrane's battle suit would not last forever, and the damaged arm was already clearly slowing her down.
We had no real time to gather and plan a new assault, just catching our breath for so long as we thought the tower might hold. They were getting the feel for the cannons, or perhaps had some new leadership, and the melee continued beyond our walls. As chaotic as the situation was, we were fairly certain we were not winning that conflict. The tower wasn't going to last much longer either, even if we could get more of our troops to it. After a very brief exchange, Miss Coltrane re-entered the battlefield to support our troops and to draw attention back outside. We fired a couple more of the cannons to try to draw fire to them, then abandoned those stations. Eddy and Matthew took up a new sniper position at one corner of the tower, while I re-gathered some of the muskets and spears, and moved to lead a new assault on the main gates, once it became clear we weren't going to hold our position much longer.
The hope was that we had divided their attention enough, between fighting the fires of the far tower and trying to retake this one – or at least keeping up the wall of musket fire to make sure we wouldn't be able to take the fortress from there – that the main gates would be left vulnerable to a quick attack. The renewed assault and reappearance of Miss Coltrane and the suit surprised enough of our enemy that we were able to make progress towards the main gates, with Eddy picking off cannon crews, but no advantage was going to last long.
To our surprise, as we approached, the main gates opened, and Wyndham's engine, now mostly repaired as well, surged onto the field, accompanied by yet more troops. The enemy rallied around it, partly as a point of pride and morale, partly simply so as not to be mowed down, for Wyndham showed no more care for their contingent of Maori than last time we fought his machine. Miss Coltrane and Wyndham used the opportunity to exchange fire. Miss Coltrane took the worst of it, reeling, but not falling. She was pushed back towards the tower once again, presenting a clear target.
Wyndham charged, some troops diving out of the way, others of both ranks caught under its treads as he gained speed and momentum. Unable to get her legs under her enough for a leap, Miss Coltrane tried a new tactic. Using the wall to brace herself and lifting the suit's good arm over her head, she then brought it down on top of Wyndham's machine as it crashed into her.
I do not know if it was by some plan, or simply opportunity, but though Wyndham had, again, the best of Miss Coltrane, having her trapped between the engine and the partially broken tower wall, her fist had begun to open new rents in the armor. She slammed her fist down on the same spot again and again while he tried to crush her against the walls. A rifle shot fired, with a distinct clanging off of the armor of the machine. That was apparently enough to get Wyndham's attention, and he started to back away.
I saw the machine starting to pull away, then heard another crack of rifle fire. This time there was no sound of armor, and I had to assume Eddy had found his mark. The engine veered, and I could scarce imagine Wyndham's thoughts as a bullet ricocheted around inside the machine. I could only hope he'd been injured, but whatever else, it wasn't fatal, because the engine continued in its retreat. It was, however, clearly not intended to be driven backwards with any control, because instead of escaping cleanly, it smashed into the walls, trapping itself temporarily.
Miss Coltrane advanced, with the suit looking like some sort of terrible hunchback, every motion raising a terrible grinding noise. Still, she was able to move, and one arm still worked, lifting to smash down on Wyndham's machine again and again. All the while, his wheels spun, further damaging the fortress walls while digging for traction. Sadly, he did finally find some, tearing forward, sending Miss Coltrane staggering as the engine lurched out into the field, heedless of whom it ran down in trying to escape. Eventually, it managed to turn, going right over more Maori on both sides, and narrowly missing my own position. From there, Wyndham managed to retreat back into the fortress, damaging the gates as he passed through them with less than perfect precision.
Much slower, but surely tasting victory, Miss Coltrane limped after it, with a wave of troops following. Though our foes still had numbers, and thereby killed many of our allies as they went, the defeat of their supposedly impregnable battle engine clearly had disheartened them. In a less desperate time, I would have had more thought to the lives of our troops, sought some other strategy and approach. For now, with our little communication and this new spirit, for good or ill, life or death, we charged.
Amidst this rush, trying to reach their gates before they could close them behind Wyndham, I finally found a familiar figure, dressed like no other on the field and bearing significant burns. No matter her state, Miss Bowe scaled the enemy fortress walls past all of our fighting, having either fought or snuck through the enemy ranks to reach it. She used her knives to climb – having, it turned out, left the damaged ornithopter behind – stabbing into the wood and pulling herself up, hand over hand, scaling rapidly. (12) She reached the top of the wall, killing a cannon crew, and raced for their gates. She cut down the keepers before they could complete closing the gates.
With that assistance done, she disappeared behind their walls once again, leaving us to fight our way to the opening, even as our enemies moved to try to hold the gap by manpower, now that fortification would no longer serve. Miss Coltrane reached them, sweeping away a wave of men from before her and leading the charge. While the suit was obviously badly damaged, spears and muskets were still not enough threat to slow her down. Even so, with Maori war clubs against the joints of her armor, and risk of lucky shots, we knew she would need all the support we could give her, and quickly.
With the Maori guard following, I managed to fight my way to her position, cutting down the enemy until we reached the gateway. At that chokepoint, all momentum halted, and th
e field devolved into chaos again. Our spearmen fought well, but one after another fell. Our muskets lost their guard, and our line began to collapse. I was grazed by a near shot, but managed to keep my feet and my gun, though I ended up having to use the butt of my pistol as a weapon more than once. Eddy did his best to help us with sniper fire, but with the tower now under full assault, he and his troops had all they could handle just holding their tenuous position.
We were reinforced by Miss Penn's troops, reestablishing our line, though soon it was only a few dozen of us between muskets, spears, and our own number. Somehow, it was enough to let us break through their lines and begin advancing again. Some miracle of momentum and Miss Coltrane took us to within sight of their central building, where we could see some frenzied motion and their moored airship. Miss Coltrane, however inadvisable, charged again, trampling over enough troops that we were able to follow in her wake. Without her providing cover and brief respite, we would have been lost, especially now that we were quite surrounded. Her charge took her into the wall, cracking it, but the impact also buckled her leg.
As if he sensed the vulnerability, we saw some part of our enemy at last. The Moroccan, Ualu, emerged from their central building with a guard of his own, ordering them forward to join the melee and shouting commands in the Maori tongue. Seeing a foolhardy opportunity – and guessing where Sir James might be – I raced for Miss Coltrane, shooting down three men as I went. With only one shot left, I climbed her suit. For a moment I thought she was going to strike me down, but instead she seemed to notice who I was. She pulled herself to her feet.
Finishing my climb, I found myself on the roof of their central building. Miss Bowe was engaged with both the Spaniard and Aiden Reilly. Though she was showing no capacity for defeating both men, she was weaving, parrying, and dodging between them, retreating slowly and drawing the pair away from the ladder to the enemy ship.
