The Cerberus Rebellion (A Griffins & Gunpowder Novel) (26 page)

Battle lines,
Eadric had to remind himself.
Calling it a border gives the Kerberosi legitimacy and that is the last thing they need at a time like this. What with Steimor and Beldane throwing them aid.

Eadric had been shocked when he learned that the nations of Steimor and Beldane had not only recognized Kerberos as an independent state but had deployed soldiers to train the rebel forces and reinforce their royal guard. They had, so far, remained out of the line of fire between the rebel forces and his own, but it only required an official decree from their royalty to throw those forces, and the rest of their military might, against Eadric.

He hoped that the threat of Nordahr’s own considerable military would convince the Grand Duke of Beldane and the King of Steimor that going against Ansgar was a poor decision. Beldane, with an extensive shared border and a long history of territorial disputes with Nordahr, was more likely to restrain themselves in the matter. Steimor, on the other hand, was separated from Nordahr by thousands of miles and had the most defended and thought to be impregnable borders on this side of the Vast Sea.

The Steimor Mountains flanked the strip of land known as the Hilt for nearly half of its length; massive stone fortresses had been seeded into their sides every hundred miles. If Nordahr wanted to get to the heart of the Steimoran nation by land, they would spend years slowly moving down the killing field that was the Hilt.

Eadric shook his head. Dwelling on the fear that the northern nations would join with the rebels would not help him win the battle that stood before him. He had the largest force in the western Kerberosi territories pinned against a fortress that they considered important, and he wasn’t going to waste the opportunity to show the rebels the error of their ways.

“Lord Richards,” Eadric said as he stepped out of the pavilion that had been his home for nearly ten days. The day was young but the mid-spring heat was already in full effect. “I think that it’s time we made our intentions known. Have our messenger deliver our terms.”

“Yes, Your Highness.” William Richards nodded as he stepped out of the tent and waved to a waiting rider. The man wore the king’s colors and was mounted on one of the fastest steeds in the king’s stables. He bolted toward the front line; a white banner flapped from its pole over his head.

Eadric watched through his looking glass as the rider crossed the battlefield and passed through the front lines of the Kerberosi forces. He disappeared into a grove of trees and Eadric paced in front of his pavilion while they waited for him to reappear.

Eadric’s terms were more than generous to the rebels and their leaders. He offered to allow the soldiers to give up their arms and return to their homes with no consequences for their actions. The knights and lesser lords would pay ransoms for their release and would have to pay a tax every year for ten years as penance for their rebellion. The nobles would be forced into exile and a ransom would be taken from their houses, but their heirs would be allowed to take up their titles with the sacrifice of only a single hostage to serve at Eadric’s court for the rest of their lives.

William had argued for stricter punishments for the nobles, but the rest of Eadric’s council had agreed that terms that were too demanding would only push the nobles further away from surrender. The majority of the Kerberosi nobles were not stupid men and could see that they had no chance of winning against the Ansgari armies, so why tempt them into trying?

An hour passed, and then another. Midday was nearing when the rider reappeared from the thicket of trees. He rode slowly at first, but once he was through the rebel lines he put his spurs into his horse and galloped back toward Eadric’s pavilion. Eadric watched the Kerberosi lines as his messenger returned and he knew the answer that the man would carry even before the thunder of his horse’s hooves could be heard on the small hilltop.

Signalmen waved their flags in precise commands and all along the front line of the rebel forces’ commanders shouted orders at their soldiers. Cannons were loaded, bayonets were fixed to muskets, and skirmishers began to crawl down the hill toward the small valley that divided the two armies. Many of them carried Black Mountain long rifles fixed with looking glasses, providing accuracy no mere rifled musket could match.

“They refused your terms, Your Majesty,” the knight-captain reported. He breathed heavily and his horse seemed like it could collapse at the slightest touch. “They gave me this to return to you.”

The letter that the knight handed him was sealed with the three-headed hellhound of House Jarmann and, if Eadric’s judge of handwriting was accurate, was written by Lord Magnus Jarmann himself. A steady but passionate hand with years of practice. Eadric read through the letter once and let out a bark of laughter.

“The Lord Jarmann advises us that he wishes no harm to our people, but that he and his armies will protect their lands against our imperialistic advances and that he will hold me personally responsible for any loss of life or damage to property,” Eadric said. “Lord Williams, I want you to lead the assault. Order the cannons to fire when ready.”

“Yes, Your Highness.” William Richards inclined his head and put his spurs to his horse.

Eadric’s infantry deployment was more aggressive than his advisors had suggested. He had spread five of his divisions across his front and had split his final division into reserves of two brigades on either side of his center. His cavalry had been split into two and one half had been deployed to each of his flanks.

His battle plan had assigned the cavalry to flank the enemy lines and get behind their trenches while his infantry advanced directly into the line of fire. His skirmishers would be responsible for clearing out the enemy marksmen and causing havoc for the rebel forces with their own long barreled rifles. His artillery wouldn’t be able to fire on the enemy batteries on their hilltop perches, but they would be able to rain down fire on the center of the rebel lines. He had ordered that every battery focus on the same area to try to break the enemy before his infantry reached them.

When William Richards reached the heart of his center division, Eadric waved a hand at his signalman and the man’s red flags both shot upright.

The cannons boomed in near perfect unison and Eadric allowed himself a smile as the first volley of forty-two cannonballs exploded into the far hillside, very near to their mark. The rebel cannons thundered in response. Three different divisions were targeted and Eadric smiled at the folly of the enemy commander.

Another earth-shaking boom signaled his artillery’s second volley and the first enemy deaths came at the hands of well-targeted solid rounds. Their trenches would protect them from shrapnel, for the most part, but with each shot his artillery would get closer and closer to dropping their solid shot into the enemy trenches. Then they would load the explosive rounds and all hell would break loose on the other side of the valley.

As the thick clouds of gray smoke began to form around the opposing artillery batteries, William ordered the infantry to begin their advance. The five divisions moved in a single smooth motion and Eadric’s cavalry spurred their mounts forward and swept toward the enemy flanks.

The batteries on either end of the enemy line turned their guns to counter the threat and Eadric saw many of his riders fall as exploding shells rained among their ranks.

Then it happened: the enemy cavalry showed itself as it charged through gaps between the infantry divisions. He had expected them to try to counter his own cavalry and he suddenly realized that between their skirmishers and charging cavalry, the rebels would be able to do cause significant casualties to his infantry.

“Signal the inner cavalry brigades to turn and flank the enemy cavalry,” Eadric ordered, and the signalman began to wave his flags. From signalman to signalman went the order, then to the buglers, and finally to the troops. Eadric smiled in satisfaction.

His infantry marched boldly into the face of the enemy fire as cannonballs fell among them and the rebel skirmishers began to pick their targets and fire. Officers and nobles had long ago learned that leading charges on horseback was a poor decision and had taken their position among the infantry that they commanded. Their typically better cut uniforms and flashy swords, however, made them easy to find for the enemy marksmen.

Eadric frowned in thought as his infantry stopped to unleash their first full volley into the enemy lines. From his position at the far rear of combat, there was no way that he would be able to see the effect that the volley had on the enemy lines. Already smoke obscured the battlefield, and their flanks were completely out of sight.

It was, Eadric reflected, the first battle that he had ever commanded directly. He had been taught how to handle nearly every strategic and tactical decision that could arise in the course of battle. He had practiced his knowledge in yearly war games with his personal guard and standing army, but this was the first time that the enemy he faced had a legitimate interest in killing him, and he in killing them.

“Report from the front!” the signal commander shouted. “First Division reports heavy engagement with enemy forces at range. Second Division reports that they are bogged down in some sort of marsh and are taking increased artillery fire. Fifth Division reports that the enemy’s left flank has turned and our outer cavalry brigade has been pushed back.”

“What of Third and Forth Divisions?” Eadric asked.

“No reports. Heavy smoke around Third Division is preventing signaling, and much of Fourth Division is on the other side of a small rise in the valley.”

“Of course,” Eadric said with a nod. He had known that Fourth Division would be out of sight until they were nearly on top of the enemy lines. The report of a mire in the valley, however, came as a surprise, and he made a mental note to review the scouting reports with Lord Richards upon his return. “Any sign that the enemy is breaking?”

“First Cavalry Brigade reports that some of their riders have turned the flank on the rebel right flank but their reserves are pushing back.”

Eadric nodded and pressed his looking glass to his eye. The clouds around First Division, at the center of his line, were thick, but he could see the men firing and reloading as they continued to push toward the enemy lines. The banners of his nobles and lesser lords were starting to mingle with those of the Kerberosi forces.

“First Division reports hand-to-hand combat with enemy center! Third Division has reported in; they are firing on the enemy trench lines but they are taking heavy case-shot fire from at least one enemy battery.” The signal commander read another report: “First and Fourth Cavalry Brigades are reporting heavy losses and are forced to withdraw; enemy flanks have turned too quickly and are under heavy artillery fire.”

“Damn it,” Eadric swore. A large part of his strategy had hinged on his cavalry’s ability to get around the enemy flank and cause enough havoc that his infantry would be able to push through to capture the enemy batteries and effectively end the battle.

“First Division is reporting they have lost nearly half of their strength and enemy reinforcements are pouring down the hill; they request permission to withdraw to rifle range and continue the fight from there.”

“Permission denied. Signal one brigade of reserves to push to the center. And instruct Second and Third Divisions to provide supporting fire for First Division!”

“Yes, Your Majesty!” The signal commander passed the instructions to his teams and waited. “Orders confirmed!”

The battle raged for the entire day. The rebels poured reinforcements into every gap that formed and Eadric’s forces were forced to withdraw as the sun began to sink in the late afternoon. The divisions withdrew slowly, continuing to pour fire into their enemies until they were well out of range of the rebel infantry.

Lord William Richards led the small cadre of nobles and lesser lords toward Eadric’s pavilion as the sun finally settled beneath the horizon. Lanterns and braziers illuminated the canvas palace and Eadric sat the center of it all, anger hot in his eyes.

“We outnumbered them, we have better trained soldiers and more experienced commanders, and still we were forced to retreat from the field of battle and leave them in control of their defensive positions,” Eadric said with barely contained fury.

“The enemy had the advantage of terrain and defensive emplacements,” William tried to explain. “We were taking fire from men that we couldn’t even see before we were even in range to return fire.”

“The range difference is a handful of yards, if that!” Eadric shouted.

His army should have crushed the rebel. They should have shown the Kerberosi that no one spat in the face of the King of Ansgar and lived to tell about it. Instead, his incompetent commanders had handed the enemy a victory, one that would strengthen their resolve and show that he was not the all-powerful monarch that he wanted them to believe that he was.

“What were our losses?” Eadric demanded.

“First Division suffered fourteen thousand dead, five thousand wounded. Second Division, eight thousand dead and two thousand wounded. Third Division counts seven thousand dead and three thousand wounded. Fourth and Fifth Divisions each report four thousand dead and one thousand wounded. First and Forth Cavalry Brigades report losses in the eighty percent range, and Second and Third Brigade have lost around a third of their strength.”