The Fall And Rise Of Reggio Perino

Reggio Perino led the weary rebels back north to their homes. The campaign had been a bloody failure, and as much as he was willing to fill up the holes with their Laurian dead, the supply of warm bodies was going to run out eventually. The wounded were recovering slowly on the march north, although the bumpiness of their carts probably wasn’t helping matters. Juan Batista was complaining about the staleness of the bread and the hardness of his saddle and the cowardice of his army, and Reggio was getting a bit sick of it.

It was therefore with annoyance that Reggio greeted the news brought by one of the remaining outriders: that Lord Francis was alive and well, for the moment, although engaged in desperate battle against a loyalist army with ten times his numbers.

It was clear that it was a lost cause. Reggio turned to his lieutenants to order the army to skirt wide around them, just in time to see that backward idiot Juan Batista spurring his horse onwards, yelling “To me, men of Lauria! To me and to glory! Tally-ho!”

Lord Theobald, Lord Pelayo, Lord Cortez… all of them charged onwards with swords lifted high, and their men, battered as they were, gave a great shout and broke into a stumbling run after them. Reggio’s mouth worked for a moment, as he considered the odds of him succeeding in this rebellion with only twenty able-bodied men after all the others in the army got slaughtered, and with a heavy sigh he led his own men into battle as well.

Lord Francis’ thirty remaining men had fallen back towards their reinforcing saviours, and Reggio arrived just in time to stop Juan Batista from leading them straight back into an uneven contest. He ordered the rebels formed up in their usual formation, but with a skirmish line of arquebusiers ahead of the pikemen this time.

The loyalist musketry took its toll on the ragged rebels, but Reggio ordered his men to wheel around to let the pike formation pass, ignoring the enemy gunners for now. As the enemy tercio marched past, he unleashed the cannon fire, and fully half of the loyalist pikemen were snatched backwards in a hail of grapeshot and iron fragments.

The surviving enemies, shocked by the concussive force of the shot, pushed on, but were whittled down by a volley of arquebus fire and then finished off in a swift and brutal melee. Reggio looked back to the pike formation, and what he saw was not encouraging.

The standard bearers and officers had been killed, and the tightly-packed formation had dissolved into a loose line. Reggio pushed his way to the front of the formation and ordered the survivors to form on him – he disliked putting himself quite so much in danger, but he had no choice. These morons in morions needed some more direction if any of them were to survive this. The rebel reserves were ordered forward, and quickly arrayed behind Reggio.

With fresh troops at his back, Reggio saw that Imelda’s loyalists had pulled back after their bloody nose, and were holding a hill a quarter-mile away, silhouetted against the sky.

The loyalists must have learned their lesson, for they made no move to attack Reggio’s forces; nonetheless, a withdrawal was out of the question. The bloody fighting earlier had evened the odds, and perhaps they were wary of these desperate rebels who pressed attacks despite their condition.

Reggio hit upon a famous plan to draw the enemy down from their position. Keeping the tercio in place, he sent the light infantry forward unsupported, in a loose mob. They would be the very definition of cannon fodder. Setting the main formation to a walk at a safe distance, they followed the poor footmen, who were under orders to feign a retreat the moment the loyalists broke rank to engage them.

The footmen did this, and Reggio was pleased to notice that only one of them was killed in the process; he hadn’t dared to hope for such a good ratio. The stupid bastard loyalists charged forward gleefully, and were met by levelled pikes and handguns. Their officers were killed, the nobles captured, and the battle drew to a close as the last loyalists turned tail and ran, or were encircled and cut down.

Things had gone better than Reggio dared hope. Their casualties had been heavy, with only 120 rebels left alive after this last battle, and the majority of them having sustained even more wounds. Lord Francis had only 3 able-bodied men under his command, and Juan Batista would be indisposed following his victory booze-up, undoubtedly. It was time to hunker down behind castle walls and lick their wounds – Reggio fancied he could find a few willing and impressionable revolutionary women to do the licking for him.

At that moment, a messenger rode up to their makeshift camp.

Oh, come on.

Butcher’s Bill: 51 men dead, 31 men captured.

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.