“Also, get the rollers working over the ground out to four hundred yards from the defenses.”
As Yozef’s final innovation before the invasion, he’d ordered the construction of two “rollers,” ten-foot-long cylinders with a six-inch shaft running down the middle. Into the shaft, they would insert a four-inch iron bar to protrude from both ends of the cylinder. The bar had a knob on each end and a raised ridge three inches from the end. A hook and a chain were inserted between each knob and ridge, which prevented the hook from sliding farther down the bar. They attached chains from both ends to a one-foot beam, which in turn led to a twenty-horse team. They filled the cylinder with rock and pulled it over the cleared, leveled ground to provide clear fields of fire. Although the horses disturbed the ground, by the fifth or sixth pass of the cylinder, the ground was so compact the horses’ hooves had little effect.
They tested the compaction, and it worked. Canister, grapeshot, and solid shot skipped off the hard surface instead of burying itself in the ground. It was especially successful with canister. Three-quarters of the musket balls from a canister round’s cone of shot, which would have been lost into the ground, now skipped and continued on. Yozef estimated the result would be an approximately fifteen-percent increase in canister balls potentially impacting a human figure at two hundred yards.
He now hoped it wouldn’t rain or, if it did, that it waited until they finished the fortification and then rained enough to turn the ground the Narthani would have to cross into a quagmire even if it negated skipping shot.
After Yozef finished talking with Harmon Swavebroke, he and Denes walked with Welman and Harmon to their waiting horses and escorts.
“I suspect I have the easiest job among the three of us,” said Swavebroke, “not that any of this is easy. I only have to raise havoc with a supply line they can’t possibly defend along its entire length. Welman’s got to dance with the Narthani to keep their attention enough that they keep hoping to force a decisive battle, while we at the same time avoid that battle. And you, Yozef . . . ” Swavebroke shook his head. “I’ve heard the numbers, but when I look out at the empty land from the city to the river and try to imagine building fortifications to stop a Narthani army of this size, and in only a sixday or two . . . my mind can’t get hold of it.”
“I won’t deny there’s a good deal of praying going on,” said Yozef. “I still believe the Moraine and Coast sites were our best options, but the Narthani didn’t want to follow Welman’s attempt to lure them farther north. We’re now sure they decided to repeat the first attempt to cut the island in half. Even if they don’t permanently occupy the land they cross, the destruction will take decades to recover from.”
If we have decades, thought Yozef. A swath of destruction demarcated the Narthani route from the Eywell border, across the breadth of Moreland, and continuing through Orosz. Assuming they kept on through Adris, there would be a twenty-mile-wide path of devastation where hardly a structure remained: city, town, village, farm, ranch. Gone would be two clan capitals: Moreland City and Adris City. It reminded Yozef of Sherman’s March to the Sea in the American Civil War. The Union Army had cut through the heart of the Confederacy, destroying infrastructure to cripple the Rebel economy, and foraging parties left barely enough for the civilian population to survive.
Yet whereas Sherman’s army fed itself by stripping the land of food, the Narthani had found very little to eat and had to depend on supplies brought with them or from the supply line back to Preddi, which was about to be severed. The uncertainty was whether the Narthani would try to force open the supply line. Swavebroke had orders not to fight battles against large Narthani forces unless necessary, but he would harass attempts at resupply. Yozef hoped it would take the Narthani long enough to act to make moot reestablishing their supply route.
“As for constructing the fortifications here,” Yozef said, attempting to reassure Swavebroke, “it’s going to be a close thing, but look again at the numbers. If we succeed, the Narthani will return here to face a fifteen-foot-wide, four-foot-deep trench of mud and water. We’ll use the earth from the trench to build a timber-reinforced berm with cannon emplacements. To get to the trench, they’ll have to cross obstacles and mines. The city and the river will anchor the ends, so the Narthani will have to attack the defensive line. Every cannon, musket, and man we have and many women will be on the line or the walls.
“It looks like the graders from the Keelan Site and two new ones just finished in Caernford will get here in time and will give us six of them. In addition, farming plows will help break up the soil. Even without those, twenty thousand men and women can move a lot of soil—which is how many people will be digging for their families’ lives and their own.”
Yozef didn’t elaborate that his worries didn’t revolve around whether people could dig, but rather on constructing the berm, laying thousands of mines, and keeping the people organized.
Fifteen Miles North of Burnym, Moreland Province
Balwis Preddi awoke well before dawn, fifteen miles north of the Moreland town of Burnym. He stared upward at the starry sky through a surrounding screen of trees. He hadn’t woken on his own. He came to with one of his men slowly shaking his shoulder.
“Balwis. Balwis. It’s time. The men are ready.”
Balwis sat up, clearing his head as he looked around. He could barely see others under the starlight. He found it hard to pick out individuals, but all around him slowly seethed a battalion of four hundred men, trying to be silent while packing. They faintly heard their horses up in the arroyo, where they were picketed. Nearby stood four more encampments such as this one: two thousand men and horses; twenty 6-pounder cannon and limbers; six hundred pack horses with food, medicine, and ammunition; forty wagons sturdy enough to cross rough country; and five hundred extra horses.
Balwis commanded the powerful, fast-moving force. The original commander had been thrown from his horse and fractured both a leg and an arm. They had no time to send back to Orosz City for instructions or a replacement. Before leaving to attend a War Council meeting, Harmon Swavebroke had denoted one battalion commander in each regiment as the most senior, in case the regiment’s colonel was lost for whatever reason. As his regiment’s designed senior major, Balwis automatically breveted to regiment commander. As Balwis usually did when he first woke up, he felt momentary wonder at how and why he had responsibility for an entire regiment of dragoons sent on a critical mission deep into Narthani territory. As always, the simple answer was that they had no other palatable option.
The Narthani Army Reaches Adris City
The Narthani army arrived at the coast of Adris Province in four days. They didn’t move faster, because once they were ten miles from Orosz City, islander horsemen and horse-artillery on all sides forced the army to maintain a semi-defensive disposition the rest of the distance. They had numerous skirmishes, some qualifying as small battles, where the islanders melted away when the Narthani reinforced. Larger numbers of islander cavalry also turned back the Narthani cavalry’s reconnaissance probes.
The first report that the scouts had sighted the ocean buoyed Marshal Gullar’s mood. Yet his improved mood didn’t last when more detailed reports found no Narthani ships. Gullar felt disappointed but not apprehensive. They’d planned for the fleet to meet them near Adris City, which was another twenty miles to the east along the coastal plain. Only a day later, when they reached the outskirts of Adris City with still no sign of the navy, did Gullar’s mood switch to concern. Where are they?
The army had begun to encamp when a cutter came ashore from a small island just off the coast of Adris City.
Gullar and his staff were setting up in a large home when a major brought the news.
“Sir, a naval officer arrived and says he has to see you immediately.”
“Well, then, why isn’t he already in front of me?” barked Gullar.
Finally, he thought. Now I’ll get some answers about why the navy isn’t sitting here wait
ing for us.
Almost immediately, an immaculately dressed naval lieutenant appeared before Gullar and snapped off a perfect salute. The marshal didn’t return it.
“Where is the Narth-damned navy, Lieutenant!? You people were supposed to be here waiting for us!”
The officer reddened, lowered his salute, and glared back at Gullar.
“Sir, I bring you a message from Admiral Dimir. He orders me to tell you that, unfortunately, he is unable to bring his ships to this port.”
Gullar stood silently for several seconds, unable to believe or process what he had just heard.
“What do you mean, he can’t bring them here!?” he shrieked.
“Sir. The entrance to this gulf is effectively closed by a wide ridge of rocks and reefs that run from shore to shore, completely across the thirty-mile-wide entrance to the gulf. There’s only a single gap wide enough for our ships to get into the gulf. Admiral Kalcan’s ships had previously used this gap and had had no problems, because the islanders have no navy. However, when our first ships got to the gap, we found four Fuomi frigates anchored on springs presenting broadsides to any ship trying to use the quarter-mile-wide gap.”
“Fuomi!” exclaimed Gullar. “What are the Narth-damned Fuomi doing here? I thought the island was on its own!”
“Marshal,” said Avan, “General Akuyun did mention rumors and speculation about outside interference to explain some of the islanders’ unexpected tactical decisions. These frigates would confirm that.”
“And I suppose you can’t force your way through?” Gullar pressed.
“We tried,” said the young naval officer, “but the gap can only be entered when the tides and winds are right, and even then, there’s no room to turn to present a broadside. Admiral Dimir sent a war galleon to try to break through, but it could only use its forward chase cannon against sixty 30-pounders from the frigate broadsides. The galleon was shot to pieces—its mast gone and most of the crew, casualties. The admiral had to order it abandoned and burned to keep it from further blocking the entrance to the gulf.
“We lost one sloop trying to find a way through the reefs and rocks and have spent the last sixday using longboats and cutters to look for another opening. Unfortunately, we have been unsuccessful, although Admiral Dimir wants to assure you we’re still trying.”
Incredulity replaced Gullar’s anger. His voice lowered to a near-normal octave.
“The gulf closed? How can that be? Our navy has operated in these waters for years. We’ve received no report that this gulf could be closed.”
“I don’t know, sir. All I can report is the situation we face. It might be that the Fuomi never made their presence known before, and reports from Admiral Kalcan indicate that only sloops sailed into the gulf. Everyone assumed we would have no problem meeting you at Adris City.”
One of the Narthani colonels present spoke up. “Marshal Gullar, a comment one of my officers made to me just an hour or so ago might be relevant. He said that a company sweeping through the harbor area of the city found only a few small boats but no sign of any piers or other harbor facilities to handle large ships. Almost as if no such ships ever came to Adris City.”
Gullar sat down on a chair. For a rare moment, he was speechless—shocked and feeling as if he had walked into a strange dream where he didn’t understand the action. His staff whispered among themselves while he tried to regain composure. In a little more than three minutes, he spoke again, this time in his normal voice.
“And how far from here is the navy, Lieutenant?”
“About fifty miles, sir. Once my cutter rowed through the reefs, we raised a sail. We’ve set up a camp on an island just offshore. We’ve seen islander horsemen, usually a few at a time, once perhaps a hundred. They know we’re here but have made no effort to approach us. Several other cutters have relayed updates back to the fleet. One of them should be halfway back there. We sent it off as soon as we recognized your approach.”
Gullar glared at the aide carrying a map satchel.
“Pull out the map of this part of the island.”
Quickly, an aide unfolded a map and spread it out on a table. A solid wall of Narthani senior officers and the navy lieutenant crowded around, heads bent as they examined the map.
“If the navy can’t get into Adris City, sir,” said Balkto, looking at the map, “how about we push on to where they can approach shore? There are three possibilities.” He used his finger to point to them in turn. “All about the same distance from here. There’s the western or eastern shores of the gulf, until we come to clear water, or north to the coast of Pawell Province. I assume we wouldn’t go northwest into extensive mountains. Of course, a fourth option would be to retrace our route here, but that would entail more time.”
“What about that, Lieutenant? Where’s the nearest point the navy can meet us?”
The lieutenant used his right hand to point to the options on the map. “The coastlines out beyond the gulf entrance are not good. Inside the gulf, we could have embarked you just about anywhere within fifteen miles of Adris City, but beyond that and all the way past the entrance to the gulf, cliffs, reefs, and rocks would make any large-scale movement from shore to ships difficult and time-consuming, at least for twenty miles or more beyond the barrier. The few more favorable spots are small and surrounded by high hills and mountains. I’m assuming not a good terrain for reembarking an army that might need to defend itself. Admiral Dimir is waiting for word from sloops he sent to the northern options—the . . . ” He paused while he read the map. “The Pawell, Nyvaks, and Skouks coasts. As yet, no word has come back. One problem the admiral sees is that all three of the shorter routes pass through mountain chains. They don’t appear wide, but the maps and reports indicate all have narrow, sheer passes. The admiral wonders whether the clans could block your way.”
Balkto examined the map. “He’s right, Marshal. The mountain ridges may only be ten miles across in places, but I can imagine the twenty thousand or so islanders we’ve faced could easily block the passes. I assume you wouldn’t want to get the army concentrated in an unfamiliar mountainous terrain where we couldn’t maneuver. We might be able to find other routes through the mountains or force the passes, but we couldn’t be certain if we commit to those routes. On the other hand, moving along the gulf coasts would eventually get us to open water, where the navy could resupply us.”
A sour-faced general spoke up. “That’s assuming we don’t meet any more unexpected surprises, such as terrain our maps don’t tell us about, or if we get there and the situation is worse than it is now. Isn’t the surest option to reverse ourselves and return directly along the route we took getting here? At least, we know the route in detail, and we know what’s on the other end.”
“Yes, General,” said Gullar, “I’ve been thinking the same thing, and that’s the decision I’m inclined to make.”
“If we do that, sir,” said Avan, “then we should leave the wounded for the navy. The men would get faster care than if they go back with us overland, and they won’t slow us down.”
Gullar turned to the navy officer.
“Lieutenant, we have about fifteen hundred wounded seriously enough not to be fit for immediate duty. Could the navy pick them up and how quickly? Is it possible to use that island you’ve used as a base to leave them there?”
“I’m afraid not, Marshal,” replied the naval officer. “However, a few miles along the northern coast from here is a short peninsula that could be defended long enough for the transfer. If you leave enough men to defend the place, I think Admiral Dimir could use every cutter in the fleet, perhaps towing longboats, and then we’d pack the wounded in. It would take several hundred-mile round trips with every cutter.”
“How long would it take?”
“With reasonable weather, which the island seems to have most of the time, four days total. Make it five days, because I would have to take a cutter back to the fleet.”
The sour-faced general sp
oke again. “If it’s four days for our wounded, the men tending them, and enough men to defend the position, then it would take over a month to transfer the entire army that way. Not an option.”
“No, not at all,” agreed Gullar. “Not just the time factor, but once we got down to five to ten thousand men, the islanders might decide the numbers are small enough to attack. We need to maintain the integrity of our force.”
Gullar considered the map again for a full minute.
“All right, gentlemen. Here’s what we are going to do. The wounded will stay here, with the minimum number of medical personnel to attend them. Also staying will be the remains of the three regiments who made the assault on Orosz City. Their depleted ranks and morale are such that they’re the most expendable troops we have. Avan, the lieutenant will show you the peninsula he mentioned, and you need to get the men digging defensive positions. That will still leave us with about forty-six thousand men. Use as many men as necessary to complete the defenses and have us ready to head back to Preddi by first light two days from today. We’ll also leave two batteries of the 12-pounders that can be dug in.
“Gentlemen, let the men have as much rest as possible. Once we start back, we’ll have full rations for only ten days.”
Gullar turned to the naval officer. “Lieutenant, I’ll give you written orders to take to Admiral Dimir to get a message back to Preddi City as soon as possible. We haven’t received any resupply overland from Preddi the last four days. We should assume the islanders have stopped any supply trains from getting through. I left General Istranik with enough men to raze Keelan Province. He should have completed that assignment by now and returned to Preddi. Any news of that operation?”
“Sir, Admiral Dimir told me to inform you that General Istranik burned the Keelan port town of Salford with no resistance by the islanders. Cavalry patrols at least fifty miles inland reported no inhabitants. They also burned some smaller coastal towns and villages, then word came from Preddi that the islanders had cut your overland supply line. General Istranik decided that finishing the destruction of Keelan Province had a lower priority than returning to Preddi City to assess the supply line’s status.”
Forged in Fire (Destiny's Crucible Book 4) Page 62