The messenger took two deep breaths before continuing. “More Kurakin, sir. Desaix is confirming, but there are more troops moving down the road.”
“Reinforcements? How many?” Lauriston couldn’t see the road in the west anymore. The houses blocked his view.
“We don’t know yet, sir.”
“Okay, thank you, soldier. Tell Desaix to alert me when he confirms.”
The messenger remounted and rode back out of the town and up the slope of the field towards the forest.
Lauriston’s mind went to work. His strategy was working, everything had moved along as planned, but if Desaix thought that the Kurakin had sizable reinforcements in the west, there would be trouble.
That could be a big issue.
Lauriston trusted Desaix’s instincts. Emperor Lannes had always said to trust the cavalry. They were a general’s eyes in the thick of battle.
Now the explosions and screams of the battle faded away from the marshal’s mind. His thoughts were fully back on the strategy of the attacks. He had to think on the larger picture and how he could win the fight for his side.
The Erlonians could still break the Kurakin that were already in the town. That much was clear. But if the enemy reinforcements on the road were big enough, his line could be counter-attacked and surrounded. They’d be outflanked and trapped on this side of the river.
Lauriston stood up. He looked east along his lines in the town. Quatre was still pushing up. Mon’s flank would be just beyond. The attack was working.
They could keep pressing and hope for the best. Or they could alter the strategy and make a bold move to change the battle.
Lauriston ran through the risks in his head. Doubts filled his mind as they always did. He shook them away and focused.
Another cannonball exploded close by. The sounds of a volley echoed off the walls of the homes. Musket pops and screams carried on the wind with the battle smoke. The ground shook from the fighting as the Erlonians pressed farther into the town.
Lauriston watched the men closest to him. They looked to him for direction. For their next orders.
The battle would hinge on his next decision.
His head cleared. He made his choice. Lauriston knew what he had to do.
Chapter 29
In the midst of battle, a shift in plan is the hardest to execute and should be avoided at all costs.
Maxims of War, Entry Twenty-Four
Emperor Gerald Lannes
Lauriston
“We’ve made contact with Mon and Lodi.” Quatre had soot caked on the right side of his face but was otherwise unharmed.
Lauriston and the general met inside a house between their two sections of the attack. He could see the top of the spire to the Ascended One through the northern facing window. The din of the fighting shook the ground under their feet as they talked.
Lauriston stared at the broken furniture strewn on the floor of the house. Smoke drifted through a cannonball-sized hole in the western-facing wall.
Quatre looked at the gray sky through the hole. “They’re being shelled pretty good, but they’re holding a line. We’re on their flank.”
“Good.” Lauriston nodded. “Look, I’ve got news from Desaix. He says there are more Kurakin coming up the road.”
“Shit.” Quatre’s eyes left the cannonball hole. He spat on the floor.
A particularly close artillery explosion rumbled the house, but Lauriston didn’t flinch. “Yeah. We can envelop the Kurakin here.”
“But then we’ll be flanked by the reserves.”
“Exactly.” Lauriston twisted up his mouth in thought.
“What do we do, then?” Quatre met Lauriston’s eyes.
The marshal chose to stick with his plan. He hoped it was the right choice.
“You push up and hold Mon’s flank.” Lauriston pointed east through the broken rooms of the home. “I’m going to attack up the middle and turn the Kurakin. I won’t push on their right. If their middle breaks, the whole group will retreat west. We’ll push them up the road back and never give their reinforcements a chance to fight.”
Quatre nodded his understanding.
“We take the central square. That spire.” Lauriston pointed out the northern-facing window to the tower in the center of town. “We meet Mon and Lodi there and then push the Kurakin away from the bridge.”
Quatre nodded again. Lauriston saluted and bid Quatre good luck and the general marched through the hole in the wall and back off to his side of the battle.
Lauriston stepped out through the main door and moved in the opposite direction. He reached his men and found them both in good cover and spirits.
Expectant eyes looked up at Lauriston. He met them with confidence and spoke clearly.
“All right, let’s push onward. Towards that spire.”
Pitt
Bodies piled up. Both black and red coats combined to recolor the stones of the bridge. Men fought in a knee-deep pool of blood and pieces of their dead friends.
“Send the Third down to relieve the Fourth.” Pitt kept his eyes forward and focused on the carnage. He had to yell the orders over the rumbling artillery.
“Yes, sir.”
A messenger was sent off and Pitt watched his orders carried out. The Third moved down to fill in the spaces needed around the bridge. The remains of the Fourth shifted back in a ragged-looking group.
The Horde attack never relented. Pitt was numb to it all.
They fought Lauriston’s men in the town beyond and pushed against the Brunians on the bridge at the same time. Their artillery had been beaten back but still lobbed shot into the southernmost houses of the town. The enemy had also started hurling shot back across the river towards Pitt’s own men.
The spire to the Ascended One jutted up above the smoke on the other side of the bridge. The Horde formed under it for another bridge attack. Beyond would be Lauriston’s attack, but Pitt couldn’t see the Erlonians anymore. For all he knew they were bogged down in the houses and wouldn’t make it to help the Brunians on the bridge.
“Sir, an ammo update from artillery.”
The aide’s words pulled Pitt’s eyes away from the carnage in the town. He turned and was prepared to receive the report, but a horrible sound interrupted the exchange.
A Kurakin cannonball overshot the main Brunian defense and bounded up the hill. It bounced twice and sent black dirt into the air as it shot towards the command horses.
The ball took an aide directly in the chest.
In one instant, the man sat straight-backed on his horse. In another, the body of a dying horse flailed on the ground. Only the legs of the aide were still strapped in the stirrups.
There was no scream. There were only pieces of the man’s body thrown like shrapnel among the officers.
Blood splattered on the surrounding group and the men struggled to control their mounts. Pitt’s own horse swung around and wanted to run up the hill.
“Sir, we should get out of range.” The suggestion was eerily calm. Pitt knew the man’s steadiness was more from shock at the gruesome scene than anything.
“We’ll move back. Hold the ammo report until we relocate.” Pitt nodded and took a final glance at the dying horse as an officer fired a pistol into the animal’s head to relieve the suffering.
Pitt took another look at the hazy outline of the town beyond and the bridge with the pile of bodies and the tall spike of the spire. The Brunian Third Brigade fired a volley at an approaching Kurakin infantry column. Another unit formed a bayonet wall for the next enemy charge.
Pitt turned away and moved up the hill out of range of the enemy guns. All he could do now was pray they could find a way to hold out. And hope Marshal Lauriston’s Erlonians would succeed in surrounding the Kurakin before the bridge defenses broke.
Elisa
The cannon fire came in quick succession. One minute the din of battle would be low, only a buzzing in Elisa’s ears, and the next it became a cacophony of explo
sions. Metal and wood flew at them and Elisa and the soldiers cowered behind walls they hoped were thick enough.
Elisa crouched behind a wall running between two houses. It was half the height of a man and plenty thick. Most of the unit used it for cover, with the remaining soldiers spread out between the two houses. The Lakmians surrounded the next block over.
“They’re going to push us soon.” Mon passed by her section of wall in a crouch. He shouted orders to the men in the far house and circled back to her position. Muskets poked out of windows and over walls towards the Kurakin side of the fight.
“Hold here, then?” Talking made Elisa’s fear seem farther away, as did reloading and checking her pistols.
“Yeah.” Mon looked at her.
Elisa didn’t answer. She kept her eyes on the silver of her pistol as she rammed the next ball down the barrel.
Mon seemed to think this meant she was okay. He nodded and moved off. His prediction of a push proved true almost immediately.
There was a yell from over the wall and the Erlonians around Elisa started firing. She poked her head up and saw a group of Kurakin running up the street. Four of the enemy fell from the Erlonian volley, but there were plenty more.
Elisa fired both her pistols at the group and saw two men stumble to the ground. One looked dead and the other screamed and writhed about, holding his thigh.
She ducked back down and focused on reloading as the crack of enemy musket balls hitting the other side of the wall returned. To her right there was a commotion and she looked up before she could finish with the first pistol. Three Kurakin came over the wall and fell on two Erlonian soldiers.
Elisa called for help and ran towards the struggle. Other soldiers reacted, but she was the closest.
Two enemies were already locked in a struggle with the unfortunate Erlonian soldiers. The third turned to meet Elisa.
He had a long beard down to the second button of his coat and his eyes were dark black pools. His sword was longer than her own height. It looked sharp and deadly.
She drew her own cutlass and attacked. The motions and steps came back easily to her. She felt quick and smooth. Fear fell away to the bottom of her mind and there was only the sword in front of her as she fought to stay alive.
The Kurakin underestimated her. That was his downfall.
He swung down with his sword using two hands in an attempt to end things quickly. Elisa sidestepped and brought her cutlass up. She spun and used her turn as force to rake the enemy’s side with the blade.
She executed the move Lodi had taught her on the trail to perfection.
The Kurakin stumbled forward and almost fell over his own blade. He regained his balance and clutched at his side. Elisa quickly pressed her advantage.
Her practice in the palace and in the woods around Mon’s farm and on the trail with Lodi flooded her body. All the work paid off in a natural and deadly motion.
She slashed at the man’s back and ripped open the black coat. The Kurakin turned and brought his sword up again. But before it could be fully raised, there was a gash across his throat. He gurgled and fell over.
His eyes were full of shock. He hadn’t even seen the killing swipe from her sword.
The rest of the Erlonian soldiers streamed past her and finished the other two Kurakin off. Elisa stood still and watched the life fade from the black pools of her enemy’s eyes. His hand tried to keep the blood inside his throat, but he was already finished.
Mon’s yells brought her out of her stupor. He called for the men to rally back to the wall. More Kurakin had reached the defensive line.
A new group of enemies came over the barrier back where Elisa was positioned before. Her half-reloaded pistol sat in the grass at their feet.
Musket shot erupted from behind Elisa. Acrid smoke filled her nose. Mon stepped in front of her. He dropped his pistol and drew his sword.
An enemy faced them and fired his musket from the hip. More shots came from around Elisa as the Erlonians responded to the attack. Some Kurakin fell and others charged. Elisa and Mon ran forward to meet them.
A bayonet thrust came for Elisa’s stomach. She turned it away with a swipe of her sword. Mon’s weapon came over the top of her parry and sliced the enemy’s face open. Mon stepped in front of her and fought the next enemy sword to sword.
Two more Kurakin came over the wall behind Mon. They stood on the top over the battle and made to leap into the fray. A Lakmian spear took one in the chest and sent him back the way he’d come.
But the second had his eyes on Mon’s back as the general fought another enemy.
Elisa brought her sword up as the enemy jumped with his ax raised. He didn’t see her. The tip of her blade slid easily into his stomach. His momentum did the rest of the work for her.
Elisa crumpled under the dead enemy. His weight pressed down on her arm and dragged her downward into the mud.
Rough hands grabbed her shoulders. She was pulled upward and found Mon holding her. Kurakin lay bleeding on the ground everywhere and the other Erlonian soldiers finished off the last of the Horde attack.
“Okay, Princess?” Mon’s hands turned her head from side to side, looking for injuries.
“I’m fine.” Elisa’s voice was a croak. She coughed and repeated herself more clearly. “I’m fine.”
Mon hugged her. It was a quick but strong motion and gave energy back to Elisa’s limbs. The sounds of the battle still raged in the distance, but for a brief moment everything fell away and Elisa felt safe.
Then Mon let go and bent down to retrieve her sword from the dead Kurakin. Elisa’s hand went to the front of her jacket and she felt something warm covering her.
Was it mud from the ground? She looked down and found her hand red.
Blood.
Had she been injured?
Elisa couldn’t feel any wound. There wasn’t a hole in her jacket.
She realized where the blood had come from when Mon stood back up with her sword. The front of his uniform was soaked.
She had a brief hope it was from the enemies he’d killed. But even as she thought it she knew it wasn’t true.
The world broke. The battle was lost around her. Mon’s expression froze in her mind as his hand found the patch of blood spreading across his shirt.
The memory of one of the first enemies firing a musket from the hip struck her. It’d been right after Mon had stepped in front of her. Before they’d charged the second Kurakin wave.
Mon looked down at his hand as if it was someone else’s. He winced and staggered slightly to his left. Elisa was frozen in place.
“Mon!”
Lodi swept by Elisa and caught Mon as he went to one knee. Elisa’s sword fell back to the mud and she finally moved. She lunged forward to help Lodi.
They leaned Mon back in the mud. Lodi rolled a Kurakin body out of the way.
“Back to the wall. Defensive positions!” Lodi called to the men around them.
The soldiers stared at Mon as they moved back to defend their position. Lodi looked back down and pressed on Mon’s stomach.
“Damn.” Mon’s voice was hollow. Spittle of blood gurgled up from his throat.
“Quiet now,” Lodi said. “Keep your breath.”
The Lakmian ripped open the general’s coat. The undershirt was already drenched with dark blood.
Elisa felt tears on her cheeks. Mon smiled up at her and raised his hand off the ground. She gripped it in her own.
“You’ll be fine, Mon. Just breathe.” Lodi pulled medical tools from his bundle and inspected the wound. “Elisa, I’ve got this, we need you on the wall. Keep the men focused.”
Elisa didn’t want to leave. She wanted to help save Mon. She wanted to stay holding his trembling hand.
But Lodi’s look told her to go.
There were more yells of charging Kurakin coming. “I can handle this, Elisa. We need you back there,” Lodi said. Mon looked her in the eyes and nodded his agreement. She squeezed his hand a las
t time and forced herself to her feet.
She ran back to the wall and grabbed her pistols. She reloaded with numb hands.
It took all her energy to not look back to where Mon lay in the mud. She finished with the pistols and fired at a group of enemies over the wall. She bent back down to reload as more of the Horde poured up the street towards their position.
Soldiers yelled. Smoke billowed around her. She glanced back to where the Lakmian knelt over the old general and more tears came to her eyes before smoke and soldiers obscured her view of the sad scene.
Lauriston
Lauriston pushed forward with his regiments but met a wall of Kurakin hunkered down in houses on the outskirts of the town’s square and at the base of the spire.
He turned down a street and found two cannons pointing down the alley at him. They fired, but Lauriston ducked his men around to cover. The explosions shattered a neighboring building.
“We won’t go that way, then.” Lauriston shrugged to his men.
He looked around. They would have to flank the gun position. He could go back and try a different street, but that would be a long way around. His eyes fell on the windows of the house they hid behind.
“Through there.” He nodded the soldiers towards the closest window.
He gave a hand signal to the men across the street. They would do the same maneuver parallel with Lauriston’s own group.
The soldiers helped each other through the windows and through the house to the other side. Lauriston found a path that led through a garden.
Another idea came to him.
He reached into his pack and pulled out two of the napthas they’d taken off the Scythe dead during their journey north. He looked at the men and got grins of understanding back.
Lauriston crept up to the edge of the road. A soldier lit both fuses for him. The sparks danced around his hands. He took a quick look around the corner to sight the guns and threw both bombs one after the other.
The Fall of Erlon (The Falling Empires Saga Book 1) Page 33
