Episode 6: Pyrrhic
Reggio Perino had his mouth set grimly. The opening moves of the battle had an appreciable advantage to the rebels, though the Lion Throne’s troops were still generally of higher quality and were still ready to put up a good fight. The Lion Throne’s generals had decided that a strong counterattack was best, and so Reggio directed his officers, who dressed the lines once again and prepared to meet the renewed onslaught. The pursuing Laurians had advanced the front lines into a lightly forested area, and formed their line on a hillside.
Several enemy nobles decided to encourage their troops by leading almost suicidally brave lone charges against the Laurian pikemen. They were quickly dragged from their horses and beaten senseless by the incredulous Laurians, but this seemed only to give the enemy infantry more heart.
Their standard bearers and officers led the slow advance, while the Laurian arquebusiers poured fire onto them. At this range, little of the fire was telling, except for Reggio’s cannon shots. The closely-packed enemy formation climbed the hill and attempted to flank the pikemen. Reggio led his light troops around to the side and unleashed deadly musketry into the sides of the Lion Throne formation, doing great execution.
As the attack faltered, the Lion Throne fell back to reform while their officers harangued them. Reggio had never seen the point of promising Heaven to soldiers; they were far more likely to enjoy hell. He gave the Filaharn-botherers a parting shot from his cannon as they retreated, leaving a bloody clump of twisted corpses for the reinforcements to step over.
The enemy attacked again, to no great effect, and Reggio was exultant. They were slaughtering them.
He was so exultant he didn’t see the armoured horsemen with the Radiant Cross emblazoned on their chests until it was too late. Reggio was barged to the ground with a great thump and was out cold immediately as a tonne of steel-plated horseflesh charged into him.
When he awoke, the sky was dark. There were still sounds of battle, though the screeching and clanging of steel on steel was more distant. Marnid assured Reggio that they were winning, and that Lord Pelayo had taken command of the army while he was indisposed.
The soldiers on both sides were exhausted from the day’s battle, but still they fought. Reggio was content to sit back and let them do so while he nursed his headache with a bottle of Imperial Brandy and a wet towel, although he judged by morning that he could no longer maintain the facade of being too injured to fight, and he joined the fray once more. Such as it was.
The Lion Throne army had disintegrated overnight, and scattered groups were being rounded up by the pursuing Laurians. One last band refused to surrender. 17 men led by Yelu Dashi of Kara-Khitan defied all demands and offers, and brandished their blunted weapons proudly. The Laurians tolerated them at first, but as the band started making their way towards Lion Throne territory, Juan Batista gave Reggio a peremptory order. Kill them all.
Reggio shrugged, and ordered the advance. If some fools wanted to die out of pride, it was no skin off his recently-broken nose.
The Laurian cavalry charged the group, to little effect, as the ragged survivors stood firm and cut down the lightly armoured cavalry. Juan Batista was outraged at this, but Reggio took it in his stride. He recalled the cavalry and ordered the arquebusiers forward.
So much for pride.
Yelu Dashi was found still breathing, draped in a flag bearing the Radiant Cross. He came around fairly soon, and seemed entirely unconcerned that he had survived while his loyal followers had not. Reggio rather admired his style, and the man would be a useful prisoner, but he had more to worry about at present.
Only 238 rebels had survived the battle, and almost half of them were wounded. In one battle, it had ceased to be a force to be reckoned with – Reggio knew that Queen Imelda’s personal army alone numbered almost as many. Certainly there was no question of pressing the siege of Etrosq Castle.
And Lord Francis was nowhere to be seen…
Butcher’s Bill: 44 men dead, 31 men captured.