by J A Deriu
“We must talk.” Magnus followed her in.
She motioned to Pedro with a lifting of her chin that she would handle him, and Pedro let the tent flap fall, remaining on the outside. “There will be a briefing soon. You should ready yourself for this.”
“I wish to talk of an important matter. Your man Fulke is ignoring me, so I have come to lobby you direct.”
She faced him with a scowl. “What is it then? Be quick.”
He steadied himself and stood to his fullest height. “We are speaking Lord Commander to Lord Commander.”
“Yes, yes,” Clavdia said. She was about to add that a captain of a battleship and a captain of a rowing boat were not the same thing, but she wanted the meeting over.
“I am very unhappy with the status of the Knights Hospitaller in the order of battle. We have been nominated as second reserves. We should be part of the primary force. I believe that even the Janissaries are part of this force. This is not right. I fear your man Fulke is trying to be funny.”
“They are known as the Bear-Hounds.”
“Who?”
“The Janissaries.”
“Well, it does not matter. They are not even Christian … well, not now … can you see my point?”
“There is no humor. The order of battle is correct. Your force is to be in reserve, and it is very important that the order is adhered to.”
“No, no, this can’t be correct.”
“It is, and when you see what is coming, you may be thankful.”
“This is a terrible dishonor.” He stood firmly, his boiling eyes fixed on her.
She waited. He showed no sign of moving.
They were interrupted by the blast of a horn. Both their heads turned. The blast did not cease. “This is the highest alert,” she said and ran out of the tent.
Outside there were Templars dashing in different directions. She saw Captain Miles standing with his chin pointed upward as those around him ran frantically. “What is it?” she asked. “Why the alarm?”
“Look up there, Lord Commander.” He pointed to the stark-blue sky. In its expanse, a blot of red could be seen. Her eyes narrowed. “What do you think? There is panic.”
“It is an observation balloon, Captain,” she answered. It moved steadily toward the camp. She could feel the dry breeze that brought it. “There is a basket underneath with men inside. The Persian Army nears. Spread the word that there is no need to panic.”
“We should shoot it.”
“They will keep it out of range. They are trying to determine our force size. Let’s not make it easy for them. Issue orders for cover to be taken.”
He remained looking at it. “Damned thing.” It neared, and the basket underneath could be seen with the outline of men’s heads able to be made out protruding. “Are you certain we would not be able to shoot it down?”
“The alarm needs to be silenced. This is not an attack.”
The Persian Army filled the highway and the surrounding lands. From the vantage point of the slope, the horizon was filled. The armies of occupation and conquest had arrived together. The sounds of them carried across the plateau – the blasts of trumpets, shouted commands, and the clatter of horses and machines. As big as a company itself was the shah’s banner. It moved like waves crashing on a beach.
Clavdia’s mouth was set in a hard line. She shook her head as if to clear a fog. Her side was setting itself for the battle. It would only be hours away. She turned her back on the enemy army and walked to the command tent. Pedro held the flap open for her to enter. The Templar Captain Knights completed the Templar salute as she entered and added a sharp, deep yell for emphasis. It was thick with bodies. Many captain knights had been made for the campaign. The room stunk of the oil that they rubbed over their bodies to keep the insects away. She moved to the center, and the conversations died to silence. She waited and turned her eyes down.
“Templars!” she shouted and lifted her head to observe the room.
“Ooooh!” the Templars replied in hard unison.
“Captain Knights, brothers and sisters, order your units and companies into their battlefield formations. The battle is here, and it has come at our choosing,” she said in her loudest voice. There were grunts of satisfaction. “We have our battle plans, and we will not waver. Once again, the time to prove ourselves as worthy Templars is here. The enemy is powerless if we are not afraid. I move that we evoke the Templar rule: no surrender.” There were unbridled cheers. “You accept. Then let it be. There will only be victory. Our battles are for the Blessed Virgin Mary. We dedicate this battle to the Blessed Virgin Mary.” She strode out of the tent to the battlefield. The captains, euphoric, followed her.
Brushwood and wild fowl were between the two armies. The army of the Persians was a collection of tints caused by the vivid light. Clavdia inspected the lines of Templars. They held their weapons ready with bayonets fixed. “Whatever comes, do not have fear,” she said to Captain Marco as she passed him. He nodded. His eyes blazed to study across the plain.
Frank came jogging down the slope toward her from the Volunteer positions. “It is ready. Do we go now, Lord Commander?” She nodded. He signaled with a wave back to the ranks of the Volunteers. A horse-pulled cart galloped from the lines. The drivers took it to the front so all of the army could see. It had a flat back and fastened to it was the stone chest. The cart passed in front of the ranks, and there was cheering.
“For what it is worth,” she said to Frank.
“It is the Ark of the Covenant,” he answered sensibly. “Who fights with it cannot be defeated.” He looked across to the Persians. “It is more for them than for us.” His hair tousled with a gust. “Imagine the doubt rippling among them, watching this. Doubt soon turns into fear.”
She watched the cart reach the end of the ranks and then turn to pass again. She felt the cheers as it neared, but her eyes had left it to concentrate on the movements of the Persians. The ranks fattened as the armies blended into one mass. The banner of the shah was at the center. It showed a golden lion holding a curved sword and standing in front of the sun.
Captain Miles came to her side, and they moved to the command post, which had been set up after a dozen rows of Templars and on a mound so that the full battlefield could be seen. “This is to be a chess,” she said to the captain.
“The strategy is right, Lord Commander,” he said. “These field battles are won by outflanking to create panic. Our speed will be our godsend. These Persians are old-fashioned. Their battle tactics are full of traditions from an olden time. They would not have faced an opponent like us.” His head was drawn to look up. “I would feel better if we could blow that thing out of the sky.” He stared angrily at the hot air balloon, which hovered above the scene. “It is in contact with their command. I do not want it to be our bane.”
They arrived to stand with the other commanders. Behind the command post, the army was still in movement. The tents of the chaplains were busy. Templars lined up for confessions or communions. She thought of some solitary prayers for herself, but this battle would not wait and instead fleetingly felt her rosary beads, which she had hung around her neck. It was the best way to make sure that they were with her – regardless of what the priests said.
“What is its power, Lord Commander?” Fulke the Bear asked, watching the cart circle again. It was edging farther from the formations yet safely out of the range of the Persian guns. The smirk on his face indicated that it was not a question that could be answered.
She smiled back. “That is to be learned.” Pedro had his binoculars firmly held to his eyes. She stood next to him. “Every movement, Pedro. Report on every movement.” She did not need to tell him this, but it was a managerial habit. The command post needed to be fed with intelligence.
“There is some movement to note, Lord Commander,” Pedro said. She looked to where he h
ad pointed. A motor vehicle had detached itself from the Persian forces and was moving in front of them as a mirror to the Templar cart. It had a flat back and a canopy supported by posts. Pedro handed her the binoculars. “See for yourself.” Sitting on its back and catching the sunlight was a golden casket. She focused the binoculars to see it clearly. It was adorned with the carvings of angels.
She handed the binoculars back to Pedro. “It is the Ark of the Covenant. They have one too.”
“Ha.” He smiled and laughed. “This will be known as the Battle of the Arks.”
There were murmurs through the ranks. She could shortly work out that it was not the Persian ark that was causing the concern. It was the appearance of the mechanized elephants loping onto the horizon with clouds of dust trailing them. “They intend to fight today,” Miles said in his typical lack-of-flourish style. “They would not have brought those beasts if it was otherwise.” The path cleared for the machines to move to the front of the ranks. The cheers of the Persians mixed with the grinding and clanking sounds of the machines carried distinctively across the plain.
“To your position, Captain,” she said to Miles. “They intend to use these war machines as forces of shock to break our ranks. We cannot let that happen. Speed will be our strength. Do not forget that we must spread them and create gaps. The shah will be their weakness.”
“I won’t forget a thing, Lord Commander.” He completed a firm Templar salute. “I will see you on the battlefield.” His handsome face lingered for a moment and looked at her, and then he turned to stride toward his company of Black Swan Templars.
Clavdia checked her preferred communications. These were nimble runners who were lightly uniformed and for the moment sat waiting for messages. They would be needed if the flags and lights faltered, which was expected to happen once cannon smoke overpowered the field. Fulke the Bear would oversee the formations, where his booming voice would be valuable. Frank Paulus had taken a position on the fringe of the post. His role was to coordinate the Volunteer and non-Templar forces. He surveyed the battlefield with the eyes of a hawk. Her pulse quickened when she thought of those forces but slackened after observing him.
The mechanized elephants stepped forward. They passed the front of the Persian ranks and onto the field. Boys ran after them and poured oil on the axels of the moving machines. She signaled for attack units to get ready. The elephants could not be allowed to get near to the Templar ranks. She had seen what they had done to the Order of the Holy Ghost.
The commands were given, and the first of the forces moved for the battlefield. Among them were the Bear-Hounds. Tobias Deen had pleaded for this. They moved forward with control. They wore the gray of Templars, most of them without the black cross, although there were those who had converted and wore the cross. Deen wore only the gray with no other markings. He stood at the front with the calmness of a man who knows war like a clerk knows paper.
Captain Marco reported to her with the final enemy status reports from the scouts. She looked over them with Fulke at her side and a few others. They were somber reading. The Persian Army that they faced was huge. They had brought to the battlefield the local Persian garrisons and merged them into a larger army of reconquest that had met in the ports of the north and crossed the highlands. It had been swelled by the holy order and seethed with movements of troops of all colors. The red-and-black checks of the Persian Army dominated but with enough other uniforms to create the kind of confusion she feared on her own side.
More of the Persian forces moved to attack. There would be no preamble. The presence of the shah meant the need for decisiveness. The Persian infantry came into range, and the thunderclaps of Richord’s artillery commenced the battle. They ran toward the Templar ranks without care. The eruptions from the canons hacked their charge. Fulke grunted as he watched. “A waste, Lord Commander. What else could they be but fodder for the cannons?”
“It is the luxury of an abundant army to be wasteful,” she said. The command was made for the rifles of the forward rank to start shooting. The Persians fell or retreated. They started another charge before the last had finished. The mechanical elephants continued to plod forward. “Order an assault force at those elephants.”
She would have preferred to be in the thick of the fighting instead of feeling sidelined with her head full of superfluous worries, like whether the soldiers had slept enough. It was a common affliction described in the advanced manual for a field commander to fret over their loss of ability to manage the battle.
The runners dodged one another as they sprinted in and out of the command post. The signalmen gaped for air between their frantic actions. The number of flashpoints quickly multiplied. The action stretched farther than Clavdia could see. Gun smoke floated across her field of vision. The elephants had heavier firepower than those encountered before. Rockets fired from the top tier of their towers landed deep into the Templar ranks and tents. “They must be pushed away,” she said firmly. “Where are the assault units?”
“They are engaged, Lord Commander,” Captain Marco answered.
She steadied her binoculars to see the crumpled Templar bodies and smoking motor vehicles at the feet of the monsters. The lower towers were crammed with gunners who fired unmolested at the assault forces below. She watched as they stalked forward, the dead crushed by their iron hoofs. The injured and retreating were mercilessly shot by the gunners.
Fulke rushed to her after a discussion with a runner. “It is Captain Miles, Lord Commander. He wants to lead the Black Swans in an attack on the elephants.”
“I wanted to hold the Black Swans for the attack on the head.”
“I know, but if those elephants get into our ranks …”
“What does he intend to do?”
“The message said grappling hooks.”
She shook her head. “He really is mad.”
“Lord Commander?”
“Tell him to attack. And include a message from me that I want those damned elephants killed.”
There was clamor on the other flank. Thousands of Persians charged across the field. It looked like an all-out charge as the scene was covered by red and black, but it was not, as there were plenty more standing ready behind. The front lines of the Templars hastily formed into their firing positions and organized volleys into the coming mass. “They are going to need reinforcements,” Clavdia said.
“I have the Hospitallers on that flank,” the reply came.
“Send them forward.”
Cheers came from behind. A shot from one of Richord’s canons had hit an elephant. The tower was on fire, setting of sparks and blasts. Men jumped off, and the legs were wobbling. “I love that bastard,” she said to no one.
On the other flank, the Persians had come too quickly, and the Templar line was fighting with bayonets and close-up shooting. “Where are the reserves?” The Templar ranks had been broken, and their gray was being stabbed by the red of the enemy. An explosion happened behind her, and drops of dirt scattered over the command post. The elephants were still coming. There was one burning, but more had crossed into range and were firing their rockets into the Templar army. The Black Swans charged toward the steam-powered beasts, mostly in their motor vehicles, with some on horseback and others in squads on foot.
Pedro came into sight in front of her. His default smile was covered by a frown. “The Abyssinians have left.”
“What?”
“Their queen led then away a short time ago. They have not joined the battle.”
“By the head of Saint Euphemia!”
“What do we do? Do we go after them?”
“No, let them go. Waste nothing in trying to stop them.”
They both turned to see that the artillery was under fire from the elephants. Ammunition had been hit, and knots of smoke and flame came from some of the dugouts. She looked for the Black Swans. Miles would need to s
ilence those beasts soon. She was distracted by Fulke, who was gesturing to the other flank.
“Yes, order the counter. We need to cut off the salient. But where are the Hospitallers?” The remaining Templars were barely holding. It was hand-to-hand and face-to-face fighting. She would have preferred to be among them than in the command post.
The Templar infantry, who had been impatiently standing and watching, screamed into the battle from the most distant flank. It left that side open, but she did not have time to worry. She scanned the binoculars across the conflict. The shah and his forces had not moved and sat imperiously in the middle. The elephants were leading thousands of marching Persians on the other flank. She adjusted the binoculars to see the detail. The Black Swans had fired some grappling hooks into the underbellies of the beasts, but the soldiers were dangling from the lines and open to fire from above. Another Persian advance had gone very wide and crossed the dry riverbed. She would have to turn more companies to face them.
Fulke had lost his calmness. He had taken off his cap and brushed his hand through his thick hair. “The Hospitallers have not followed orders, Lord Commander. They have gone to meet that wide sally.”
“All right, all right. That may not be a bad thing, but I still need the ranks reinforced. We can’t allow the ranks to break. Who can we bring forward? The militias?”
“Yes, I’ll order the Order of the Holy Ghost into the ranks. At least they follow orders.”
“Get a message to Richord. He needs to concentrate fire on the rear elephants, the ones that the Black Swans have not engaged. He must push them into the riverbed.”
Fulke turned to one of his scribes. She thumped her hands into his shoulders and faced the battle. Her hand instinctively slipped to her neck to feel her rosary beads, and she closed her eyes for a moment.
Marco pointed to another section of the enemy that had moved forward. The ranks behind were thin as they poured more into the attack. “Bedouin cavalry,” he said. They were part of the auxiliary forces. The long necks of the animals stuck forward as their gold-colored riders whipped and yelped for them to race. Her last free company of Templars took position to meet the charge. She looked behind. Only the Volunteers remained. They stood nervously. Frank Paulus had returned and was somewhere among them. The Abyssinian calvary would have been useful if they had not fled.