by Lazlo Ferran
We halted at the first well, before noon, for a break of a few hours and to shelter from the Sun. Around the well, were light, ochre-coloured cotton sheets suspended from poles, under which men and horses could shelter. A light breeze from the west ruffled the sheets.
As we moved on in the mid-afternoon, I could see dust from Bulya’s northern Army, way off to the north of us. I had taken the camels from four Battalions, two thousand animals and put these under his command. With his whole army being mounted, he may just be able to cover the ground in time. It was a daunting prospect though. He would have to cover a distance of perhaps 100 verst to reach the Geldem Ahmiz pass, riding first north and then due east after a few days to Tiwa Oasis. From here he would head north to the tiny Hashma Oasis, which he might and might not find. From here he would head north east to hopefully reach the pass. He may well meet Meth’s caravan on the way. I had warned him of this. If he was lucky and all went well, I thought he could be at the pass in twenty days. This would leave him just seven days to ride down the northern flanks of the mountains and prepare for battle north of Korim’s Army. I knew it was near suicide. If he found the Hashma Oasis and if it wasn’t dry and if there were no sandstorms and if he did not encounter enemy troops, he could do it. In the meantime we would travel steadily north, with two wide flanking Battalions hoping to pick up any loose contingents of Korim’s Army in the area and then we would lie, in wait until the appointed time.
In the early afternoon of the second day, we reached the second well. The horses and men were parched and could barely drag their weary bodies under the shelters there after drinking. We were traveling too slowly.
After one hour, resting with Geb, I sent him to call the Generals for a meeting. Lord Abdil’Khan, often the most outspoken was pacing up and down straight away, waving his arms.
“Madness! You marched the army, your army, right through the mid-day sun, on the first day. You will kill them!”
Looking at the faces around me, I could see all agreed.
“The men are raw, not yet used to war. Yes, they suffered but they will suffer more later, especially if I have to push them harder. I felt it was important to keep them on schedule this time so they could see what has to be done, every day. In any case, if they hadn’t made it until late this afternoon, then tomorrow, they would find themselves miles from water at sunset. Then where would we be?”
There was silence. I could see I had made my point. The cooks brought us some of the better food, cheese, dried fruit, bread and wine in the early evening and we talked about strategy. There was little time and I trusted few of them so I had decided to discuss only battlefield tactics with them this early, while I myself, considered how I would actually tackle this Korim. There were, however a few points on which they could help.
“Do any of you know anything of this Korim? I know very little. Only that he is obviously from a nomad tribe, probably from the north east of Uman. I have heard a rumour he is an illegitimate son of The King of Uman. I don’t think this is true but in any case he seems to have the favour of the King. Perhaps the King is keeping him supplied. He seems to have had safe passage across Uman. Does anybody know more?”
“I hear he is young, only twenty-five. And that he has three wives but wants more.”
“Hmm. His youth does not surprise me. He was bold, almost reckless at our last meeting. He showed the impetuousness of youth, or perhaps the desperation of an older man. He will no doubt be a very proud man and as with most leaders of his kind, he will not back down easily. He will consider any kind of defeat, no matter how small, as a loss of face. I speculate also that he is of noble blood and well educated. His tactics were good, based on many Mongol traditions although with knowledge of Greek and Roman tactics but I think he has no land of his own and is seeking it here. Land will be very important to him.” My Generals knew enough to see the weaknesses that I was pointing out.
“Tell us what you know of the land and his probable strength.” Lord Edil’bai asked. He was one of the younger Generals, brave and the only one I really trusted. Dark haired, moustachioed and bearded, he had brown eager eyes.
“I think he has about 5000 men now, all with horses. He may even have spare horses.” I started to draw in the sand. “As some of you will remember, we last met him here.” I had drawn an oblique line sloping from northwest to south east. This was the line of the Kada-Gur Mountains. I then drew, below the eastern end, a cross marking the last great battle. Perpendicular to this, running south, was the main road across the desert. We were following this north now, although we would leave it, for safety and surprise sake, later. “This part of the desert is full of wadis in autumn, winter and spring and at these times, has small herd of wild camels and other smaller creatures. Life is hard here, too hard for shepherds, but there is water and Armies can move reasonably fast here. As you will remember, he engaged us with about 12000 men. We had 10000. As you will remember, we were surprised by the numbers and also how early the dry season came. Within days we were out of water, while he still had fresh water. It was the horses that suffered the most and then Parsh’am and his friend decided to take their little trip. General Parsh’am had persuaded two other generals that a day’s ride would bring them to water if they rode west along the skirt of the mountains. They probably didn’t get the water because Korim had already sent his men to defend it and then Parsh’am’s men were cut off and massacred. That left us with 6000 men and only 200 reached Parat City.” I closed my eyes as I thought about the carnage we had suffered. Abdil’khan spat on the ground and uttered Parsh’am’s name. It was a particularly bitter memory for him as he had two nephews in Parsh’am’s Battalions and, with my blessing, tried to fight his way, along with 500 men to Parsh’am. They’d had to turn back and only 57 men returned.
“Korim’s men all had horses and most probably still do. I have spoken to a shepherd who has grazed the area where I believe Korim now is. I drew more lines on the sand.”
“Coming out of the mountains here, is an old wadi, almost always dry, but you see here how it turns east after only 140 verst and continues east until it is joined by a fast running stream 1000 verst east. This only flows between October and March most years so there was probably only a trickle there for Parsh’am anyway. You see where the river flows out it has cut a deep gully in the hill. Either side is mainly scree and higher up, blue pines. It is not really a pass but Korim’s scouts must have found a way through the mountains and down to this gulley. There may be a spur on the west side here and, if so, I believe Korim would build some kind of wall across the gully. If so, it will need to be big enough to house 5000 men and horses.”
“Why don’t we just force him back into the fortress and wait for them to starve in the winter or go home?” said Kazangap. He was older than Edil’bai and often played devil’s advocate. I didn’t yet know him well as he was a Captain in the last campaign and when his General was killed and he had distinguished himself, I had promoted him. So he was a General and not yet a Lord. In time, if he continued to serve well, I would give him him a Province to rule.
“Ahh. Yes. That would be nice but I don’t think Korim will oblige. This is about winning land for himself. He has none of his own and so he will not want us to force him from it, or even worse, destroy it. This land between the old wady-bed and about 400 verst east of the stream is quite fertile. Grazing ground for most of the year and it could be irrigated. It could support a large enough population to launch further attacks and, in time, he could control the whole land north of the desert.”
“What of the Fort at Geldem Ahmiz? Can’t we bring that into play?” asked Abutalip.
“No. We need the men to stay there. They must protect that pass. We have always held that and it all that stands between us and Uman.”
The pass of Geldem Ahmiz was exceptionally steep-sided and narrow and the stream-bed had long since dried up. We had long ago built a series of great iron banded gates across it, with parapets running along ab
ove the gates, perhaps eight sachine from the ground. Even if an Army could break down one gate, there were twenty more and the four hundred men who were stationed there could easily hold out for months, picking off the enemy with bows, almost undisturbed. There was even piped water from a spring high above to supply water for dousing any possible fires, which might burn the wood.
With that, the discussion broke into several conversations and then after a time, we all retired. I had not let Geb attend but I was beginning to think that the Palace Guard would be a valuable asset in this struggle and perhaps I should begin treating Geb as a General. I could see that it was going to make sense to subdivide each Battalion into two as my Army was too small for 1000 men to be a useful unit. Of course, each Battalion was already split into two, effectively Cavalry and Infantry, and also into 10 Companies, each commanded by a Captain, but in practice I usually mixed the Cavalry and Infantry as I saw fit and did not keep them apart. Here, a unit of 500 men would be more useful. I would have to ponder this.
As I walked between the tents listening to men talking and occasionally glancing up at the twinkling stars in the still night, I pondered many other things.
At one point I wandered up to Arstan, proud and white, with that distinctive tawny speckling, in his own corral, next to many other horses, and I patted him.
I briefly thought of Shakira and wondered what she was doing. I suddenly wondered if I might never see her again. I had left instructions with Lord Kospan, an old man from the generation before mine, to organise the final two battalions, if they ever came, into an effective defensive force and defend the Palace and Shakira, to the end. He was to send for help to my relations in all the surrounding countries and hope for relief.
With that thought I laid my head down on a rolled out bed in my tent and the next thing I knew, Geb was rocking my shoulder to wake me.
It was just before dawn. A pink light was faintly showing in the sky just above the eastern horizon. The mountains in that direction, perhaps 150 verst away, cut a jagged line of black in the gloom.
“Morning Sire.”
“Mmmm. Morning Geb.” I was tired and could say no more. My legs were stiff and I lay still on my back for a few minutes before being able to face the effort of standing up. I could smell cooked eggs and hot bread and gulped it all greedily down with a glass of cool water before peering out of the tent. Two guards stationed there saluted me and I saluted back. Geb was sitting a few sachines away, on a pile of folded cloth. Many of the tents had already been struck.
“Why didn’t you wake me?”
“You were sleeping. We thought you must be tired.”
“Well we’re all tired.”
“Yes. But we need your mind to be fresh, Sire.”
I grumbled and mumbled but what was there to say?
Within an hour, just as the Sun was rising, we were off and marched until late morning, when the heat of the sun was too much to bear.
I raised my hand. “Halt.”
There was a lot of groaning as soldiers were ordered by their officers to pitch the rough cotton shelters which we carried. These consisted of a large sheet, perhaps nine sachine long and four wide and four poles, two long and two short. There are 500 sachine to a verst.
The short ones are like tent pegs and anchor the windward side of the cover. The long poles suspend the leeward side of the cover thus forming a crude shelter against the wind, or in this case the sun, as there was little wind.
We needed to reach the second well, in the early afternoon if we were to eventually get back on schedule. After only an hour and one half, I ordered the men to remount.
Abdil’khan rode up to me and, with glaring eyes, told me I was unwise to push the men so hard.
“They must learn.” I said.
At about mid-afternoon, we made the second well and the men gratefully crawled under the awnings while the few men permanently stationed there, gathered the horses under their own shelters. I could see the men were relieved this time. They knew they had made up time and, perhaps tomorrow, they would escape altogether, the intense heat of midday sun.
We did reach the third well before midday and on the next day too.
“When did the water carriers pass here?” I asked as soon as we stopped.
“Two days ago, Sire.”
The following morning I ordered the scouts ahead of us. We had about 40 of them and they would rotate in shift of 20 at a time, half a day ahead of us and spaced out at intervals of
1 verst. The shifts would change each day.
As we marched, or rode, I was really beginning to organise my thoughts about this battle now.
It would be my thirtieth, since the first, as a Captain in my father’s Army, at the age of 14.
I had far more experience, no doubt, than Korim but I didn’t underestimate him. He was in many ways, like I was at his age. Bold, impulsive and sometimes reckless. He would be a difficult opponent.
My Army consisted of spears-men, bowmen and swordsmen. There were 200 spears-men, four hundred bowmen and four hundred swordsmen for every Battalion. The spears--men each had a short, light sword, as did the bowmen but the swordsmen, expert with the weapon, each had a longer and heavier sword, straight edged. Some of the bows were metal and some of composite wood. They had that distinctive shape we favour in this part of the world, creating a C-shape, with the points facing forward when un-strung, facing backwards when strung, to form the distinctive compound shape. The metal bows had been experiments, some compound and some of one piece, but some men still favoured them. They could launch an arrow further than a wooden one, up to 60 sachine, but were heavier to carry. The usual wood bows could reach 50 sachine. Most of the men had armoured greaves of metal, plates on their outer arms and breast and backplates of metal, although the bowmen had lighter armour, on the torso, consisting of 6 plates front and rear. All the men had shields. The bowmen had smaller round shields, the mounted bowmen even smaller shields, but the unmounted spears-men had rectangular shields over half a sachine tall, which a man could crouch behind, or shelter under. All had skirts of plate and most had an under-layer of light chain and under this a corset of tightly stuffed cotton. Of course while marching, in the desert heat, most wore only the bare minimum of protection, helmets and arm plates. All men had similar helmets, round and dome shaped at first but steepening to a point, much like the pinnacles on many minarets. The Battalions were identified by coloured plumes on each soldier’s helmet.
I was armoured just like any swordsman. I didn’t want to attract attention to myself. We had no artillery, unlike many western Armies. I and my Chief Armourer had experimented with them. We’d had a cannon sent from France, of the best make. It had reached our neighbouring country, to the south in crates, safely. But then it had to be assembled in order to cross the mountains, hauled by a team of six camels. Unfortunately one of the wooden shod wheels had broken and so only the barrel arrived. I had immediately mounted it on a wooden frame and had it fired. I was much pleased with the results and wheels had been manufactured for it. Demitri, the Chief Armourer, was still assessing its usefulness but there were two problems, difficult to overcome. Firstly, the great cost of importing more of them, as we did not have the resources to build to the high standard required and, secondly, they were unpopular with my men. I could of course get some men trained to use them but I would have to pay them more money. They feared the danger of the cannons exploding in their faces. This would mean a double increase in cost of equipping my army. My infantry were currently payed about thirty roubles each year, with an allowance of about 2 berkovets of grain and in most cases, a small plot of land, enough to feed a family, with the allowance of grain, for one year. The officers were paid up to 80 roubles and their grain allowance was about 5 berkovets and they had a large portion of land to farm. The Generals were of course mainly Lords and had a whole state of my Kingdom to rule.
To equip myself with cannons, I would need to pay each cannoner four to five times as muc
h as a normal infantryman and I doubted if enough grain could be raised through taxes. We were already taxing the normal citizens, at a rate close to that which would cause rioting.
The following morning, late, near the time we hoped to see the fifth water camp, Geb, riding alongside me, spied something dark on the sand a long distance ahead of us. As we rode cautiously towards it I could see it was an animal skin. Looking down at it from my horse I could see it was one of the water-skins the camels would have been carrying ahead of us, filled with water.