This thread is for battle reports in the M2TW HRE PBM "King of the Romans".
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This thread is for battle reports in the M2TW HRE PBM "King of the Romans".
Dietrich mounted his horse and looked about the men around him. Save for his own company of retainers he'd never seen any of them before in his life, and yet he was expected to lead them to victory against a stone fortification a thousand times their size and with every defensive advantage. He sighed heavily and felt the warmth of his own breathe stick to the inside of his helm.
Most of the preparation for the siege had been accomplished before he even arrived, but he soon realised how bloody a day this would be. Two siege towers and a ram had been arrayed against a stone fortress with a single entrance, surrounded by four defensive towers and the entire enemies force could potentially be mounted on the walls. The siege towers stood, titans on the field, a funnel through which men moved up, and carcasses came down. And then there was the ram, a wooden and leather inferno waiting to happen.
The captain formerly in charge of these men rode up to him. He was a noble of lesser station, probably the cousin or a nephew of a fief's lord, but he spoke respectably and presented himself with some degree of dignity to the steward. "Governor Dietrich, I have been ordered by Kaiser Heinrich to turn this over to you upon your arrival." The man handed him a scroll of little spectacle, save for being stamped with Kaiser's seal and tied with silk. Dietrich had an idea of what it was.
"Designation of army commandership?" He asked, breaking the seal as he spoke.
The other man nodded silently, and maybe even sensed a little of the steward's uneasiness. He started what almost seemed like the beginning of a ramble. "You know... they're not so sure about this anymore. Everything is fine and you get anxious just starving the enemy out, but when the day comes that you need to go spear to spear, you get nervous. And then there's the walls, the biggest weapon you've had for keeping the enemy in one spot suddenly becomes the biggest weapon they have for keeping you out. Kind of asinine really."
"I'll speak to them." Dietrich replied, and the man began discussing the current situation with him.
It didn't take long before the only available options became apparent and clear. They had no advantage in numbers, in quality of arms, in experienced men. A well deployed enemy would take them in the blink of an eye. The only option they had was to make the enemy blink both, and strike them when their eyes were shut. "We don't have much to go with." Dietrich started. "I want the spear militia on the eastern wall with a siege tower, they are, under no circumstances, to actually try to take the walls. Taunt the enemy, hassle them, keep their attention on that side of the wall. One of our archer units should move up to the front gate with the ram, supported by the other, while our spear sargeants wait for the enemy to get distracted at the gates then move up to the western wall with their tower. It's a fairly cut and dry plan, draw the enemy as far east on the walls as possible then scale the west side with our best troops." He almost cringed as he said that, their best troops being barely more capable than the militia.
As the final preparations were made, Dietrich rode up to the center of the line and delivered his speech to the ragtag host they were calling an army. Fine Germans! Today we carry out the first task of many in reuniting our fractured empire. Today we carry out not just the will of the Kaiser, but if we are truly meant to be the leaders of the Christian world, then today we carry out the will of God. Christians our foes may be, but they have turned a deaf ear to the edicts and laws of the Empire, and have proven themselves as both traitors and cowards. Their treachery will not go unpunished on the field this day. God spares no mercy for the wicked, and neither will I! A resounding cheer followed, nervous as the men were, and the march began.
The following battle, though it seemed as an eternity of anxious all wrapped up into a moment for the men involved, lasted no more than a few brief minutes. The siege that had been carried on now for two whole years would end in less than a quarter of an hour.
But it began with the creak of moving siege wheels, and Dietrich's call to "MARCH!".
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The ram moved foward and the archers spread into a loose formation to keep the casualties from enemy fire to a minimum.
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But as they approached the gate, the enemy commander launched a brazen assault through the gates, charging the ram and the archers with a regiment of the local militia.
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Dietrich's cavalry looked uneasy, some like they were about to panic, horses started to move and men leaned backwards, looks of inclination to flee on their faces. Without the ram the cavalry couldn't get through, and the spears assigned to take the walls would face the full weight of the enemy's defence. From the heart of his demoralised and panicing cavalry, Dietrich did the only thing he could think of. He ordered a charge. "Forward! Forward! The enemy commander has exposed himself! Take him! Take him now!" As the order was given it seemed to spark a little fire in the men immediately around him, drawing out a rush of adrenaline and pushing them forward rather than back, the rest followed suit. In moments they were riding through the archers loose formation and coming up, lances lowered, into a clustered charge of shoulder to shoulder cavalry with nowhere to go but straight through the open gate in front of them. The enemy commander, seeing the massed cavalry charge in front of him, was unable to calm the chaos that broke out in his regiment as they tried to reform near the gate. The cavalry drove into them with reckless abandon.
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Before the first ranks of the charge even knew it, they'd punched a hole straight through into the city. The enemy militia were overrun, their commander trampled beneath the hooves of a hundred or so cavalry, and all hope for the defenders had been crushed in a single decisive charge, straight through the main gates.
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"Quickly! Forward! Their archers are on the walls, don't get caught by their arrows! Into the side streets! Use the buildings as cover! Form up for a charge when they come down and let them have it!" Dietrich was barking orders everywhere now, the mass of cavalry had ceased to be anything relating to cohesive regiments and was now a cluster of armored horse and men, barreling into everything in their way with deadly effects. There was nothing the defenders could do now, when they came down from the walls the streets merely formed a channel for the cavalry to shove straight through. Two regiments of enemy archers and a regiment of militia were run down without a chance. It was a massacre.
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As they reached the courtyard, one lone spearman cowered amongst the cavalry, surrounded on all sides.
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The men paused, as if waiting for their commander's orders. Dietrich eyed the man from a distance, his horse plodding over the corpses in the street. It was an unforetunate thing to have to order, but he knew, in this battle at least, that an example had to be made. Thinking back to his earlier speech, he found its finale a fitting command. "God spares no mercy for the wicked, and neither will I."
The surrounding horsement converged on the man, and the battle was done. Perhaps the greatest witness to the battle was just a young boy, hiding in the top branches of a tree in the courtyard, looking down upon the conquerors with awe. His gaze fixated on the army's commander, his armor glinting in the sun. The chronicle of an Empire's revival had begun.
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((OOC - All in all a resounding victory.))
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((OOC - After the battle, unrecoverable losses amounted to a mere 25 archers and 37 mailed knights. Sacking the city earned us 2,000 florins. I think this kicks us off to a good start on the northern frontier and a good start to the game overall.))
The Siege of Metz
"Is that it?" thought Prinz Henry. He'd expected a great citadel. What lay before him was scarcely more than a walled compound. Architecturally, it was overshadowed by a fine monastery on a hill nearby.
Henry shook his head in disappointment, then turned to Sigismund's report. Sigismund had been welcomed into the Royal family unexpectedly. Henry was only 24, Sigismund 27. Yet, Emperor Heinrich had embraced the promising commander as an adopted member of his family. In part, this was because Heinrich had only two sons - Henry and Leopold - rather few to ensure succession in a time of plague and war. Both sons were told to treat Sigismund as a brother. But Henry in particular was instructed to pay special attention to the newcomer. Heinrich had confided that Sigismund, not Leopold, was to succeed to the throne if both Heinrich and Henry should die.
Henry skimmed the report and then looked sideways at its author. What had his father seen in the man that had made him so favoured? Sigismund was looking at the wooden castle in front of them, watching the enemy's movements closely. But there was no hesitation, no apprehension evident in the man's face. Sigismund looked every inch the conquering hero. Henry glanced back at the report; if only he could be so confident!
Sigismund had estimated the Burgundian strength at 60 knights, two regiments of town militia and one of archers. Henry's forces comprised 70 knights, 60 mounted sergeants, two regiments of spear militia and two of archers. He did not have much of an edge - an extra regiment of archers and some mounted sergeants, whose usefulness in the narrow confines of a castle was questionable. If only Henry could persuade his proud knights and their sergeants to dismount, but no - the minor nobles and their lackeys were too proud. "What do you think we are, English?!" a particularly obnoxious one had challenged the Prince.
Still, Sigismund was confident and Sigismund was no fool. They had to learn from Dietrich's victory at Hamburg. Horsemen could be useful in a siege. But they needed to pick their moment. Simply trying to ride into the castle through the gates would only result in two dead heirs to the throne. What was to be done?
"Father ordered two rams to be provided for us." Sigismund observed.
"Father"?! Henry still found it hard to get used to Sigismund calling Heinrich that. He wondered how Leopold felt about it. Did Leopold know he had been passed over? Damn it, focus, thought Henry. Sort out this mess first, let the succession take care of itself.
"Yes, two rams." said Henry, not getting the significance of Sigismund's observation.
Sigismund smiled lightly. "Give me one; I'll go round the back."
Henry stared at him. Sigismund's smile was infectious and Henry laughed. Christ almighty, Sigismund was right! Henry had been thinking of trying to barrel through the front, using one ram as a spare in case the first caught fire. But that was a strategy as subtle as going at the Burgundians with a blunt fruit knife.
"Take it, brother. And may God go with you." said Henry, trying to inject a note of solemnity. The chivalrous Sigismund nodded dutifully and shook Henry's hand firmly, as if in reassurance.
"I will meet you in the castle square." said Sigismund.
Watching the confident warrior leave, somehow Henry's had little doubt that Sigismund would keep his promise.
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Henry could see Sigismund's column march around Metz, heading for the rear, north gate. At first, the defenders ignored the flanking movement. Then Henry could make out the Burgundian archers heading from the castle square to the north. Right, if the archers are going for Sigismund, it is time to bust open the south gate, thought Henry. Let's do it now, before they have a chance to double back and shoot us to hell. Hastily, he ordered his half of the army to advance. But Henry did notice that the Burgundian archers failed to stop at the north gate, instead rushing out of the safety of the walls in their eagerness to fire on Sigismund's column.
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"Mistake." thought Henry, happily.
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Henry's battering ram reached the south gate, but Sigismund had no need of his ram - he pursued the fleeing Burgundian archers through the north gate.
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With almost perfect synchronisation, Henry's battering ram broke through the front gate as Sigismund's knights rode in from the back.
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The Burgundians sent one regiment of town milita to the north gate to meet Sigismund, while the other regiment and their knights poured out of the breached south gate to stop Henry.
Sigismund had no intention of getting his riders bogged down fighting infantry from the front. So instead of facing the town militia approaching from the castle square, he led his knights on a wild ride south, skirting the castle walls, hotly pursued by the Burgundian foot. At the same time, Sigismund's regiments of spears and archers were racing into the castle, targeting for the rear of Burgundians chasing their commander.
To the south, Henry faced a stiffer challenge. As the Burgundians tried to sally out of the breached gate, Henry ordered his spearmen to form a schiltrom and brought up his own escort in support. But his plans did not work out as he hoped. The militia were too ill trained to quickly form a schiltrom and his own knights did not have sufficient run-up to mount an effective counter-charge. Instead, the southgate became a seething mass of men, hacking and cutting at each other. Henry was near the front, as the Germans pushed their way through the gate. But this was not good - this was not clever strategy, this was just butcher's work.
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Henry cut and thrust, but then heard a loud hurrah! Sigisimund had worked his way through Metz and was launching a charge into the rear of the Burgundians blocking the south gate!
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The defenders of the south gate broke, helplessly caught between the butchery of Henry's frontal assault and the elan of Sigismund's rear charge. Soon all that remained of the defenders was the regiment of town militia that had pursued Sigisimund from the north gate. Again, Sigisimund refused to face them frontally. Instead, he pulled his men out north and calmly waited until the Burgundians were locked in combat with the Henry's column pushing in from the south gate. Then he launched a charge into their flank. The Burgundians capitulated almost instanteously.
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After the battle, Henry magnaminously spared the citizens of Metz from any abuse. Only a miserly 52 florins were gathered for the Imperial treasury from the occupation. Henry wanted to keep the respect of the chivalrous Sigismund. And anyway, the little castle really was rather insignificant - blackening the good name of the Empire to sack or exterminate it would only bring a few hundred florins.
But in truth, Henry cared little for Metz. What mattered was that he had weathered his first battle and emerged with some credit. He had taken a castle guarded by 366 men for the loss of only 55 Germans - 33 of them, unfortunate spearmen who had failed to form schiltrom in time to fend off the Burgundian knights. With some schadenfreude, Henry later learned that a small French army had been spotted south of Metz. The Germans had not only defeated the Burgundians - they had beaten the French in the race to the castle.
That night, Henry feasted well, drinking to the health of Dietrich, who had taught him the utility of cavalry in a castle assault, and to Sigismund, who had reminded him he had two rams.
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The Assault on Bern
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Otto von Kassel gazed at Bern from a hill near the castle. The wind whipped against him cutting through his cloak. Winter had descended on the Alps and still the rebels held out, with a limitless supply, it seemed, of food and patience. The Kaiser, not having the latter, had ordered an assault. Nearly 700 men lay waiting for them in that castle, two companies of knights, two units of crossbowmen, and four units of sergeant spearmen, their numbers barely reduced by the long siege. Otto commanded almost 900 men, and he had been ordered to take that hulking stone castle with less than an advantage of 200 men. Suppressing a shiver, Otto did not know if from the cold or the thought of what lay ahead, he turned and faced his Lieutenants. He spoke to Count der Stolze, who had led two companies of spearmen, plus his own household knights, from Metz.
"Sigismund, I am afraid that there is no rear gate for you to assault this time. Your Swabian militia spearmen will man the two siege towers placed to the right of the only gate. I'm also assigning you my unit of mailed knights to command. You are to follow behind the towers with the cavalry."
Sigismund nodded his assent. Otto continued, "My own sergeant spearmen will man the one siege tower to the left of the the gate and the ram itself. They have the best armor of the footmen, and I hope that protects the men on the ram as they will not have the towers to shelter them. I will follow behind with my escort and the mounted sergeants."
The commanders of the spearman and knights voiced their understanding while Otto faced the leader of the archers, "Jan, your men will be flanked out on either side of the castle, two units on their right, and one on their left. You'll have the ladders. I want your most reliable man to command that lone company."
"Ja General," replied the archer.
Having taken care of the disposition of the men, Otto spoke of the plan of attack, "I doubt those bastards in there will kindly open up the gate like they did in Hamburg, and as I just said, they only have one. However, that means that can't sally out to get our archers without impaling themselves on our spearman.
"I'm flanking the archers to draw some of their men away from the gate. The towers will go in first. The ram will follow after a short time, and then the cavalry."
Sigismund looked puzzled and interrupted, "Otto, without archers covering the advance of the towers, they'll be vulnerable. . .Ah, but you're smirking, what do you have in mind?"
Otto chuckled, "We have spent too much time in this camp dicing for me to get anything past you Sir! The towers are merely a distraction. We don't have a large enough advantage in men to slug it out on the battlements. The towers will serve to cover the troops until they get to the walls. The focus is on the ram, the towers will draw fire away from it and make sure as many of the schwein as possible stay on the walls and not move to the gate. A few moments before the gate is shattered, our spearmen will leave the towers and rush it. I hope to overwhelm the men there before reinforcements arrive down from the walls.
"Once we have breached the gate and entered the castle, I hope to catch their men coming off the walls, they'll be out of breath and disorganized, easy to break. I hope their commander, seeing this, will decide that those archers are just a distraction. He'll redeploy his men to the more imminent threat. Jan, that is when the archers will scale the walls! Once they're up there the archers on their right flank will be in a perfect position to fire down into the courtyard. The unit on the left will have to advance into the Castle a bit.
"Once those pieces are in place, there's not much left to do but converge on the courtyard. Cavalry, flank them if you can, and don't, don't get ahead of the spearmen! Infantry, stay together. Archers put as many arrows into that courtyard as you can!
"We don't have the advantage in numbers here for a proper siege assault, we have to rely on deception and timing. See to your men, emphasize this, and remind them of the pillage that awaits them!"
The host was drawn up as ordered. Otto, with Sigismund riding beside him, rode down the line surveying the troops. Stopping in between the Bavarians and Swabians, Otto motioned for the Count to speak.
"Men of Bavaria, follow von Kassel to the death. I know the bravery that lies in your hearts; do not allow fear to set in. I know the Swiss better than most; I have traveled around Bern many years ago and I know the valour which these mountaineers show. But they are only mountaineers, not city dwellers. Their skills are of little use against valiant Bavarians.
And to my fellow Swabians and Burgundians; follow me lads, follow me, and there will be honour and glory for us all in equal measure.
For Gott, the Kaiser, and the Reich!" (OOC: Contributed by Ignoramus)
Otto grinned at Sigismund, "Finer words were never spoken my lord!"
Raising himself up on his stirrups, Otto bellowed to the army, "You heard the Count! Together there is no force on this earth that can stop the Reich! We will storm this castle! We will sow confusion and fear among them! They will run before us, and they will die! For the Kaiser! For the Reich!"
"For the Kaiser! For the Reich!", echoed the host in a thunderous cheer.
Turning his horse to the castle, Otto drew his sword and pointed it toward the gate, "Attack!"
Spearmen heaved against the siege towers and they began to move ponderously forward. The assault on Bern had begun.
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Arrows and bolts began flying towards the siege towers. Men, Otto's men, began to fall. A few fire arrows found the ram, and Otto cringed inside. The ram was the key, if it burned, he would be unable to bring his cavalry into play and the battle would be lost.
"Go for the towers," he muttered trying to will it so.
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As if in answer to Otto the siege tower to his left blossomed into flames, its men abandoned it, holding their shields aloft for some small protection as they began to march to the gate. Otto swore, diversion or not he hated to see a tower burn. The ram continued on its way, but with the left tower gone it was coming under heavy attack. Time to offer another target. "Cavalry forward!", yelled Otto.
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"Sch**ße!", Otto screamed. Missiles were falling among the cavalry now, a knight to his left was thrown from his horse as a crossbow bolt tore into his shoulder. The army was taking heavy losses. But over the din of battle, Otto could hear the reverberation of wood striking on metal. The ram was at the gate! Otto could hear a horn blow to his right, Sigismund was ordering the men of the last intact tower to the gate.
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The gate was breached! Otto bellowed, "All spearmen into the gateway!"
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As the human wave of troops poured through all organization was lost, but the gambit had worked, only one enemy unit of spearmen opposed them. Otto could see, however, troops rushing along the battlements to the gate towers, they would be emerging from the stairways very soon. The momentary advantage in numbers and momentum would be lost if decisive action was not taken, "Cavalry, charge!"
Knights, nobles and mounted sergeants rushed to join the chaotic melee at the gateway. It was far from ideal use of cavalry but they were needed to punch a hole through the spearmen.
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Reeling from the onslaught, the surviving rebel spearman, and a few crossbowmen caught fleeing the walls, began to run to the safety of the castle courtyard. Otto spurred his horse after them, they must be run down before they could reach the square! The Imperial army surged forward, glad to be rid of arrow fire and finally killing the enemy.
Almost too late Otto realized that half of the rebel knights were charging forward to cover the retreat of their footmen. "Cavalry halt! Spearmen forward!", Otto cried, praying that the spearmen, already down to half strength would be able to hold.
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A repeat of the battle at the gate ensued with spearmen and cavalry from both sides engaged. As Otto fought for his life, he heard the sound of arrows striking metal and flesh. Looking up to his left, he saw that two units of his archers had indeed scaled the battlements and were now firing down into the castle yard! Wheeling to his right, he saw the other archer company making its way through the castle from the west.
The rebels were momentarily stunned by this development, and Otto took the opportunity to charge their captain. The man took Otto's first sword blow on his shield and struck back quickly, the slash glanced off Otto's shield and caught him on the side of his helm. The world went white.
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A Bavarian spearman skewered the captain before he could deal the killing blow. Otto regained his senses and saw the rebels were falling back, disheartened by the loss of their leader. "Hold! Let the archers earn their keep!", he yelled as he tasted blood in his own mouth.
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The remaining rebel knights, arrow bit and desperate, charged out. They were followed by crossbowmen, drawing their swords. They were both repulsed by bloodied Imperial spearmen. Seeing that he had broken the back of his enemy Otto called for an advance by his horsemen, "Finish them!"
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As he was gutting one of the few crossbowmen left in the square, Otto looked up and saw the last company of rebel spearman engaged with his archers on the wall! Gathering his remaining men he charged to releive them, but he was too late. An archer company had been slaughtered and they were running for their lives.
The rebel spearmen, now free of their bloody work, looked down and saw the host in front them. They saw that their comrades were slain and that they were surrounded. Making their way down the stairs of the nearest tower they threw away their spears, freshly covered with the blood of German archers, and raised their hands in surrender. The battle was over. They would be spared.
Otto paused, the castle was his, the day was his, but at a terrible cost. His grand plan had devolved into a bloody mess. A cold rage filled him. Those schwein had killed his archers, adding to his losses, even knowing they were defeated. And now they wanted mercy, fresh from that deed!
"Kill them all!", Otto commanded as he spurred his horse toward the rebels. Screaming in fury, in pain, and in triumph the Imperial army followed him. The battle was over very shortly after that.
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Bern was sacked with 1566 florins going to the Imperial coffers. 541 civilians lost their lives.
The Butcher's Bill:
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The Steward of Bavaria surveyed the army before him. It was a strong force, capable of breaking a large army on an open field. “Such a shame they’re behind walls,” Mandorf growled. He looked with displeasure at the Franconian force.
They had erected three great rams with which to bring down the walls of Stettin. The construction had been done properly and they would do the job admirably. Such a shame that there were only two regiments of foot to man them. Half the damned army was cavalry and two of the four regiments of unmounted men were simple peasant archers. The rest were fine quality cavalry. Magnificent specimens of German soldiers… who would die quickly in a pitched street battle against massed spears.
Mandorf shrugged, if this was the army that Dietrich supplied him with, the Duke of Franconia would have little cause to complain when they needed fewer stables to house them. “At least I won’t be responsible for butchering good Bavarian sons.” Mandorf looked down at the rough map sketched in the dirt before him. He called over his second in command.
“Take two rams and the knights to the east wall. Break through there and destroy whatever opposes you.” The Steward of Bavaria pointed with a stick at a mark indicating the front gate. “I will attack with the remaining ram…” he moved the stick slightly left, “…here.”
A look of confusion crossed the Second’s face. “You have something to say?” asked Mandorf, with little enthusiasm.
“Sir, a flanking maneuver is most wise, but why does the direct assault go against a wall rather than the gate? It will be far more costly to repair such a breach than to simply replace the doors.”
Mandorf snorted. “Yes, but it will not be Bavarian money that will be spent fixing the damage, will it? Besides,” he gestured at the view before him, “this place is a hovel. There is nothing worth possessing here anyway.”
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He looked over at the Franconian force. “Well, let’s get this butchery done with. I long to return to Bavaria. These northern lands have the worst wine I have ever encountered. I do not know how Dietrich tolerates such places.”
Mandorf swung up into his saddle. “Time to smother these rebels in Franconian horseflesh.”
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Florence, 1114
The messenger was brief.
"Mein Kaiser! Sergeant Anshelm has spotted a large group of brigands immediately to the west of here!"
Kaiser Heinrich sighed. "Again?" This would not be the first time that he had to deal with brigands near the Reich's newest Italian possession. The last time, the guilty party had been blocking the road to Rome.
"It's different this time," said the messenger. "They're bigger... stronger. They are, how do I say this... I am not a learned man you see..."
Heinrich had a pretty good idea of what the man meant. "A legitimate opposition?"
The messenger nodded. "If what you just said means a worthy enemy, then you're right, mein Kaiser."
Heinrich looked at his captain of the Florentine garrison. The captain, expecting an order, finished the Kaiser's sentence before he even started it.
"Muster the garrison, mein Kaiser?"
Heinrich smiled thinly. "Not yet. Get them ready though. I'm going shopping first."
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The shopping that the Kaiser referred to was that of recruiting mercenaries in order to make the task of defeating this force of brigands slightly easier. Ordinarily, the Kaiser would have frowned upon such tactics, but his own force was of particularly low quality and the money was coming easier than it had been in many years.
The mercenaries immediately began to prove themselves, however, when the regiment of crossbowmen hired started firing at the enemy long before the peasant archers were in range. They were accurate, and powerful too.
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Despite this, the enemy army (for it truly was an army, especially if Heinrich's scraped-together force was to be considered one) kept coming as if nothing had happened. This in itself was strange, but there were many other signs that the Kaiser had noticed.
First of all, the way it was set up, the way they deployed, the way they marched, seemed... professional. As if this wasn't just some ragtag band of farmers that didn't like life under the Reich. And then there was the army composition. Sergeant spearmen? Those were currently the top-quality units recruited in Innsbruck. Pavise crossbowmen? Staufen was far away from making those shields for their archers. And then there was the commanding regiment.
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Feudal Knights! Heinrich could only dream of having those men defend the Reich! How could simple brigands afford that kind of armour, that kind of decoration for their horses? And their leader! This Alcabe de Buona wasn't decked in a simple suit of armour; no, he had a worthy commanding uniform on! Something was up.
The battle progressed, and Heinrich soon put his thoughts about Signor de Buona away and concentrated on winning. The added crush of mercenaries was a large help, and numbers soon trumped skill. The rebel commander ordered his men back in order to reform and probably make a concentrated push. However, Heinrich wasn't about to let that happen. He charged straight for the enemy knights, which had taken a beating from spears as well as arrows.
The melee quickly broke into individual engagements, pitting Heinrich's elite escort against the mysterious Feudal Knights. Heinrich hung back for a minute, then saw a fight which could use his intervention.
However, de Buona was thinking of the same thing and angled right for the Holy Roman Emperor.
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The result was a one-on-one clash between the two commanders. They eyed each other before striking, neither wasting any unnecessary breath on speaking.
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The duel began, and another thing that struck Heinrich as odd was how experienced and polished this man was. Usually, when he fought cavalry duels against rebels, the men were sloppy and easily defeated. But de Buona hung tough, and actually gave the Kaiser (who wasn't getting any younger) a difficult fight.
However, experience eventually paid off and Heinrich smote de Buona, causing the rebel commander to fall off his horse, who promptly toppled on his former rider. He could only look in pain as the rout commenced.
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~~~~~~~~~
After the battle, the semi-conscious de Buona heard the approach of several riders to his position. The lead one dismounted, and walked over to him. The man removed his helmet, and de Buona was staring into the eyes of his vanquisher.
"I have an excellent surgeon as part of my staff," he said in a brisk voice. "I can perhaps arrange it that you are healed by him."
De Bouna, voice long gone thanks to the large animal crushing his diaphragm, nodded. Hopefully he would last that long; the previous several minutes had been spent by him saying silent prayer.
Kaiser Heinrich looked at him happily. "Excellent. Perhaps if you are cooperative enough, I can even arrange you being sent back to Pope Gregory for no ransom."
De Buona widened his eyes in surprise. But... how did he know?
Evidently that was all the Kaiser needed to see. He clapped his hands excitedly and looked over at his escort. "Excellent," he proclaimed, "that's all I need! Surgeon! Please assist this man, perhaps we should get this horse off of him first..."
To de Buona it appeared that the Kaiser's voice was trailing off, but that was only because he was fading from this earth.
~~~~~~~~~~~
That night, back in Florence, the people around the Kaiser noticed his grim, resolved mood. His wife would fall asleep watching him staring out the window toward the south again. Towards Rome.
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Bern, 1118
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It was a cold and crisp day at Bern, and soft flakes of snow were gently falling. Inside the stone castle, Sigismund shivered as he mounted his horse.
Outside of those gates were over 700 Milanese wanting to kill him. And not only kill him, but also every single man that fought with him.
He sighed as addressed his men.
“Soldiers, we are going to sally forth and utterly drive the Milanese back into the plains of Lombardy.
Do not be dismayed by their numbers men; I have good news for you men. Otto von Kassel and 60 knights are only a few miles distant.”
Sigismund smiled at the cheering of his men. They were an eager lot, and he felt confident that they would be victorious – if von Kassel arrived in time.
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Sigismund organised his men to sally out of the gates. He would lead the sally, with the Spear Militia directly following him. Behind them stood the Sergeant Speamen, more experienced soldiers than the milita in front of them. In the vanguard stood the Mailed Knights followed by the Mounted Sergeants. Sigismund placed the Peasant Archers on the walls.
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A shout came from the captain of the archers. “My lord Count Sigismund, the Milanese are within bowshot! Shall we fire upon them?”
Sigismund smiled to himself, “Yes, and let each arrow tell.”
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Meanwhile, Otto von Kassel and his knights were riding at full pace through a pine forest near Bern.
“Faster noble sirs”, shouted Otto, “we must assist Count Sigismund in his sally.”
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Back at Bern, Sigismund gave the order, “Open the portcullis, we sally forth.”
The portcullis creaked as it was slowly raised.
Sigismund nudged his horse and he and his retainers issued forth out off the castle.
“Follow me, men,” commanded Sigismund.
The spearmen and horsemen followed Count Sigismund and issued from the Castle.
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As Sigismund and his retainers exited from the gatehouse, the Milanese archers rushed forward to shower the issuing Germans with arrows.
Sigismund called to his retainers, “Follow me, and let us teach these peasants that their arrows are no good against German valour.”
So saying, Sigismund kicked his spurs into his horse and rushed towards the enemy.
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Lowering their lances, Sgismund's retainers made short work of the Milanese archers who dared fire upon their lord.
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Meanwhile, Otto von Kassel and his knights had reached the monastery of St. Boniface, on the outskirts of Bern.
I can see Count Sigismund and his men, exclaimed
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Sigismund had lined his men up for battle, and he was surprised that the Milanese had made no attempt to hinder him from doing so.
He glanced anxiously to the west, and to his delight he saw Otto von Kassel and his knights atop the hill of the monastery.
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Exhorting his men, Sigismund exclaimed, “Mein soldiers, see that banner to the west? That is von Kassel and his knights!”
The soldiers cheered heartily at the sight, and charged at their opposing line of Milanese spearmen.
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At the monastery of St. Boniface, Otto von Kassel's retainers and his accompanying knights were feeding their horses at the monastery's stables. Otto von Kassel was talking to the abbot about the strength of the Milanese.
“Von Kassel!” shouted Rupert von Aachan, a knight of Otto's train, “The battle has begun!”
Otto von Kassel rushed our holding a large sausage in one hand and a mug of beer in the other.
“Hurry!” mumbled von Kassel, as he skulled his beer and snatched a bite of his sausage, “Mount your horses!”
It took a few minutes for the confusion to cease, and finally the knights were on their mounts.
Otto addressed his knights and retainers, “Men, we just took that castle. It was paid for in Imperial blood and I'll be damned if we let those merchant schwein take it from us! Sigismund is the anvil and we are the hammer! Charge into their rear and flanks and scatter them! Ride them down without mercy, so that the few fortunate bastards who survive will spread fear of the Reich and its soldiers among their countrymen! Forward!"
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Back at the scene of the battle, the Milanese spearmen countercharged the Imperials, and a bitter fight ensued.
Sigismund exhorted his men to keep firm and not to break ranks. “Gut soldiers of the Reich, when the Kaiser hears off how you fight today, he will hear of one or two things. Either he will how you good Swabians and Bavarians fought like lions and sallied forth against the might of Milan, or he will hear how you fled as cowards from the foe!”
Inspired by Sigismund's words, the spearmen exerted themselves to the uttermost, but even so a few could not help but cast aside their weapons and flee.
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Otto's retainers and knights left the abbey witht the monks praying for an Imperial victory.
“Faster, my sirs, faster!” cried von Kassel to his men.
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The knights that accompanied von Kassel were the first to reach the enemy, and they charged fearlessly into the right flank of the Milanese spearmen.
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Meanwhile, Sigismund and his retainers were engaging the Milanese reserve. They were most obstinate in their resistance to the Count.
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Finally, they saw the hoplesness of their situation, most threw themselves at the mercy of Count Sigismund. A few, however, attempted to escape with their captain, Francesco.
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The remaining Milanese now fled, each attempting elude the swords of the Imperial cavalry. Count Sigsimund, however, commanded that only the flat of their swords were to be used, and that no futher blood should be shed, instead ordering the knights and sergeants to bring the Milanese back as prisoners.
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Captain Francesco was the last prisoner to be taken. He was finally tracked down, and received a sword blow to his head, knocking him unconscious.
When he was finally brought round, he was looking into the kind eyes of Count Sigismund.
“You fought well, mein freund, but I am glad that it was I who was the victor. You and your remaining men are free to leave unharmed and with their weapons. Consider it a kind gesture on my part.”
The Italian was stupified. He was expecting to be killed, or at the very least held for ransom.
“I thank you, Count Sigismund, he said, I shall tell of your generosity and chivalry to my lords. I am humble to receive such a favour and praise from an enemy of mine.”
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As the Milanese were marching off, Sigsimund said to von Kassel, "Go back and fetch your sausage, and then come and join me in the keep."
*Battle of the Alps*
To be written.
*Battle of the Savoy Pass*
To be written.
The Assault on Milan
A gray twilight spilled over the foothills and plains of Lombardy. Dawn was coming, but had yet to arrive. Men moved through the failing shadows towards their goal, the city of Milan. The sleeping locals they passed would have been shocked to see the Eagle of the Reich emblazoned on the standards that were now being unfurled in the burgeoning light. Those few who had been awake to see the passage of so many men had been silenced by scouts and outriders. The city was unaware of their arrival.
The army of the Reich, 675 men strong, stopped for a moment on a wooded hill overlooking their target. A man on horseback spurred himself ahead of the force and gazed toward the city.
It's good to be out in the field again, thought Otto von Kassel, Simpler, much simpler. I do what I'm told, I attack where the Chancellor says attack, and it is he who has to worry about the consequences.
Peering towards the gatehouse closest to him, Otto saw a torch drop from an arrow slit. He chuckled darkly. I may not agree with Sigismund on his course of action, but the Chancellor is competent. Our man is there to open the gates. What would have taken years with siege, we'll do in a day. The man is fast.
Turning from the city, Otto trotted over to his captains, "No ruses this time. We run for the gate as quick as possible, our spy will open it for us and in we go! There's a Milanese lordling running the show with some retainers of his. He's got two units of Italian spear militia, two units of Genoese crossbowmen and a chewed up company of mercenary crossbowmen. The bastards will be scattered all over the city and we'll kill them piecemeal! Knights, you may pursue those who run, but don't get too far ahead of the spearmen. Infantry, try to keep up. Archers, get in shots when you can. No time for a speech, form up!"
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As his force approached the city in the dawn light, Otto was amazed that they hadn't been spotted yet. From what our agent said, this man Cataldo was supposed to be a confident defender, perhaps too confident.
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Suddenly, a scream went up from the walls in front of him. Shouts of alarm broke out up and down the defenses. In the distance a church bell began to peal. Otto swore and had his bugler signal the charge.
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This was no close order march, but a wild sprint to Milan's sabotaged gate. Otto's retainers and knights made it into the city first. Pausing briefly in the gateway he spyed a unit of crossbowmen frantically trying to redeploy off to his right and a company of spearmen pouring off the walls, some still pulling on their armor, to his left.
"Cavalry to the right! Kill those archers!"
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"Infantry to the left! Engage the spearmen!"
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Otto spurred his horse towards the crossbowmen. He expected them to be dead and trampled by the time he arrived, but they fought resolutely. Charging into the fray, Otto hacked at one of them, cutting through the man's neck and the strange shield on his back at the same time.
"They're just bowmen! Kill them now!", bellowed Otto, but they fought on for a long time until the sheer number of horsemen overwhelmed them.
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"Christ on the Cross! Why don't I just recruit an army of them and not waste time feeding horses!?", Otto swore at the knights. "Nevermind! Back! Back to help the infantry!"
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The Imperial army swarmed up the roadway after the routed spearmen. Otto, looking up after skewering a militia man, saw the Milanese lord and his retainers charging toward them. There's something oddly familiar about this, Otto thought before yelling, "Cavalry hold! Spearmen forward!"
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The Milanese commander, Cataldo, having tried to catch the Imperial horsemen disorganized and isolated instead found himself charging into a spear wall. Once the spearman had absorbed the charge, Otto screamed, "Knights, forward!", and the counter-charge broke the Milanese nobles and killed their leader.
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The routing spearmen turned to try to save their master but were repulsed. Otto's cavalry pursued but were met by the remnants of the garrison. As horsemen began to fall, speared by the militia and hacked at by more of those stubborn crossbowmen, Otto cried, "Go past them! Past them! Infantry engage!"
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Most of the cavalry were now free of the melee. Otto yelled, "Turn and flank them!"
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Finally, the spirit of the defenders broke. What was left of the garrison turned and ran or surrendered on the spot. The din of battle subsided and all Otto could hear was the moans of the wounded and the church bells ringing in the morning air.
"Take them prisoner!", Otto commanded, "I won't fight cornered men today. We need all our men to garrison this city. I doubt the merchant schwein will let their capital be occupied without another battle or two. After we secure the captives, then we can pry open their vaults and take some restitution. Milan is ours! The Reich is whole!"
The men cheered, whether for the prospect of plunder or patriotic zeal, Otto did not know.
Milan was sacked, providing 10,955 florins for the Reich. 2,981 souls who opposed reintegration into the Empire were put to the sword.
The Butcher's Bill:
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Genoa
To the Diet:
The war on Milan, as you know, is going fairly well. Their capital city has just been taken thanks to the efforts of Otto von Kassel, and now the people who once dared to attempt conquest on our lands have been reduced to two cities isolated from each other. Today, I aimed to reduce that number to one.
News had reached me of another war in the Italian Front opening up with the treachery of Venice. I, who had long warned the Diet of Venetian intentions, was somewhat distracted by this news, probably more than I should have been. This caused me to be looking ahead to the upcoming takeover of their possessions, when I should have been taking things one at a time. As a result, I did not realize how evenly matched we were with the Genoan garrison.
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The interesting thing about this battle was that Chancellor Sigismund ordered me to assault the city without any siege equipment or engines whatsoever. However, he explained in his letter to me that a spy had been placed inside the city, which would cause even more chaos for the Milanese since all gates would be simultaneously opened.
The Milanese apparently agreed, and we found the walls abandoned.
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I figured that this was a mixed blessing as the Milanese would probably be massing in the city square. The best way to defeat this would be to surround them and attack from all streets leading into the square, but in order to do this a good position must first be established so that the Milanese do not disrupt your plans. I therefore ordered all units into the city at a run. We would split up later.
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It is a good thing I did, for the spearmen found the heaviest cavalry the Milanese had to offer (their leader's bodyguard) charging their position. Luckily, our men were massed, so I can imagine that Count Catelano had a nasty shock when he rounded the corner.
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He, along with most of his bodyguard, quickly perished thanks to our spears. However, about ten horsemen survived, riding back to the safety of the city square.
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The next attack on our position was slightly more determined.
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It was repulsed with heavy losses, but the Milanese continued to cede ground with a fight. All in all, it threw my plan of surrounding and defeating them in the square into the fire. This would be a nasty, brutal, street-by-street fight. Their count's death apparently did nothing to break the Milanese's spirits; in fact, I think it buoyed them to fight harder. We must be careful about killing future commanders early on in the battle.
I finally followed through with a modified battle plan - a two-way attack. The infantry would continue with the main push to the city square, while the cavalry would be detached and provide the final hammer blow. It reminded me of the ancienct Alexandrian tactics of the phalanx that pinned, and the Companions that shattered. Perhaps this effect would come back into style after today's battle.
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The plan was put into good effect, and eventually our infantry hacked their way to the city square where the Milanese still fought like wildcats. Evidently the situation that played out in their capital city would not happen here.
"Oh, well," I thought, "That's why they invented cavalry."
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But then, good Electors, something had happened that did not go to plan. Whoever was commanding the remnants of the Genoan garrison (if it was anyone) detached some units of his own to attack the cavalry's position. Mostly they were the men who had survived the initial assaults on the gate that we had just taken, back at the start of the fighting. There was a good mixture of spearmen and cavalry, deadly in compact spaces, but they were far under-strength.
Captain Ludwig, my close friend and second-in-command, seemed to notice my hesitation and chipped in with his opinion, always welcome in the past:
"Mein Kaiser, order us forward! We can break this rabble!" A few other men cheered. They were gearing for a fight, having missed out on the main bloody push by the infantry.
"Very well, charge! Smash them!"
I will never forget what happened next, for it was a mistake that ranks up there with allowing Pope Gregory to push me around all those years ago. I saw the looks on my men's faces (those that did not have visors covering their faces), grinning, ready for anything. I saw them eagerly spurring their horses forward, and I heard the thunder of hundreds of hoofbeats.
I saw the charge stop dead against a green wall. I saw a pileup of men and horses, all wearing Imperial colors. I saw the men lucky enough to be on the edges of the street (where they faced little opposition and prepared to take the spearmen from the side) get torn apart by the remaining Milanese cavalry, including the ten men of the escort that had lost their leader so long ago.
Desperate, I ordered my own escort forward hoping to break the spears. It worked to a point. For every inch of ground we made more good men fell. Finally, when we had met up with the infantry, as was our original plan, only two horsemen were still up. The men, shocked, ordered me to the back. Some routed. Once I was in a safe spot and still recovering from the shock of what happened (as well as futilely trying to rally a regiment that had routed), I glanced over at who else had survived that doomed charge. Amazingly, it was Captain Ludwig, who had proposed the move in the first place. He looked sick to his stomach, bent over in the saddle. I did not need to chastize him about what had just happened.
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Eventually, good Electors, the city was taken but I stress that it was not easy. The infantry had to make due on their own, continuing to push even after they had pused all the way to this point, since most of our cavalry littered a side street.
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It didn't make matters easier that the last Milanese still refused to give up, even in the face of tremendous odds.
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When the final man had fallen, there was no cheering. Only a collective sigh of relief. We reluctantly plundered the city, bringing over 5,000 florins into the Imperial treasury. It also made us sick to execute the prisoners after the Milanese Duke, all the way in Dijon, refused to pay the ransom. These warriors deserved a better death.
Good Electors, let this serve as a lesson to all of us. I may not admire Dietrich von Saxony's childbearing skills or his politics, but he is apparently the only one who knows how to use cavalry in a siege assault. The shattered remnants of my escort are living proof of that.
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Heinrich, Kaiser of the Holy Roman Empire, reporting from Genoa.
Outside Dijon, 1126 AD
Prinz Henry stared at the inquisitor and the inquisitor stared back. The cheek of the man, the presumptuousness! Henry was the heir to the Holy Roman Empire, Duke of Swabia, Army Commander, Knight. And this inquisitor, in his plain white and black commoners’ garb, was what? He was nothing. And yet there he stood, in front of the Prinz, baldly staring him down.
Henry looked uneasily around him. His handpicked knights stood respectfully to attention. His best men, the men who would guard him with their lives, had ushered the inquisitor reverently into Henry’s presence, had bowed and scraped in front of the commoner. And slowly it dawned on Henry. These men owed their allegiance to Henry, yet Henry was but a man. The inquisitor was an agent of God almighty and no man took precedence over Him. The knights were good Catholics first, loyal Germans a distant second. And so Henry started to understand what Manfred had once said to him: I am not afraid of dying in a castle breach. I fear no man at arms. I fear only the Inquisition.
Only Henry’s guard dog, Verginius, showed the appropriate degree of hospitality to the Papal guest, growing lowly at the inquisitor. Henry primly admonished the beast, although inwardly, his heart was filled with satisfaction at the animal’s undiplomatic display. The inquisitor must be a Frenchman, Henry mused. He had named his dog Verginius after a Roman Republican who shared the canine’s hostility towards the French.
I trust his Holiness is well? Henry inquired blandly.
The inquisitor nodded, disinterestedly, but then barked: ”His Holiness is most displeased at your prosecution of this war”.
Henry slowly poured a glass of wine, picked it up and sipped it before deigning to reply: ”As you know, Milan started this war by an unprovoked attack on us. We can hardly be condemned for fighting back, can we?”
”You are embarked on a war of conquest! You have taken Milan, Genoa and now stand poised to strike before Dijon! Your response is most disproportionate! His Holiness is very displeased at this spilling of Christian blood! You must end this fratricidal war!”
Henry pursed his lips and then mused: ”I rather think that is what Chancellor Sigismund intends.” End this war on our terms, with the extinction of Milan, Henry meant.
The inquisitor looked at the Prince sat in front of him, and shook his head.
“Your father embarked on a long conflict with the Holy See. You would be foolish to follow in his path.”
Henry spoke coldly: “Were you an Emissary of the Holy See, Sir, I would be happy to discuss matters of diplomacy with you. I would assure you that I have only the friendliest of intentions towards his Holiness. And indeed venture to suggest that the Pontiff has no truer supporter in the Diet. But you, Sir, are no Papal Emissary and have no standing in my court. I invited you here out of respect, but I see now that it is not reciprocated. I wish you farewell, Sir, I have a battle to attend to.”
“You are a fool, young man, to treat a Papal servant with such disregard. I will leave you now to your blood letting. But know this - you have come to my attention and only the most pious regard that development with equanimity. Good day, young Prince.”
Henry waved the inquisitor off, distractedly. But inside, he felt a ripple of dread. Damn it, let’s get this assault over with and get the hell out of here, he thought uneasily.
Right, let’s see. What’s the situation? We have 602 men. We are well provided with cavalry and missiles, but sorely lacking in infantry - only one regiment of town militia and 54 spear militia. Is this a joke? How am I supposed to take a settlement with only cavalry and missiles? What siege equipment has Sigismund ordered prepared? Only one ram? And two sets of ladders? What am I supposed to do? Carry our warhorses up the ladder?
What’s the opposition? Two regiments of Italian militia and two of Italian spear militia. Great, what we lack - solid infantry - they have in number.
How to do this? Try to use one ram to break open two gates? No, the enemy towers would cut down our men before they left the first. Use our missiles to fire over the settlement walls? No, without line of sight, our missiles would be ineffective while our archers themselves would be cut down by the enemy towers. Try to barrel through with my own escort? No, against so many spears packed in the narrow streets, the only result would be Sigismund as the new faction heir.
I have to fight clever. But how? Let’s distract them. Set up two battle groups: one, at the front gates, to the south, and one at the western gates. Both should be equipped with the ladders, with cavalry and with archers. Then, let’s hide a third battle group near the east gate. Keep it small: the few spear militia carrying the battering ram, my escort and a regiment of peasant archers. With any luck, the enemy will be preoccupied with my two visible battle groups and not notice the third until it is too late.
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And so it was. The Milanese deployed pairs of regiments to face the south and western battle group; but no men were set to guard the east gate. Even when the battering ram smashed down the gate, no troops moved east. Even when Henry ordered his cavalry to move round the settlement to the east gate, there was no Milanese reaction. Only when Henry’s men were racing for the town square did the enemy turn away from the two battle groups of Germans with ladders.
Henry’s 54 spearmen briefly occupied the town square, but found themselves facing six times their number. Though Henry and his archers tried to provide support, it was hopeless and the Germans were driven from the square. But the spearmen had bought Henry time. Time for his mounted sergeants to get to the east gate; time for his ladders to move unopposed onto the enemy walls.
Henry’s archers fell back from the town square towards the east gate, pursued by one regiment of Milanese. Before the Milanese could reach the east gate and man the towers, Henry rallied his few spearmen and led them, and his escort, in a counterattack. The fighting was brutal and for a time Henry feared he may fall, but the toughness of his escort and the demoralising effect of the fire arrows loosed in support broke the morale of the first enemy regiment.
A second regiment of Milanese militia headed back to the south gate, as German archers scaled their ladders. Henry ordered the mounted sergeants to provide support to the archers. They bravely attacked the Milanese militia from the front, but in the narrow streets were unable to charge and soon began to suffer terribly. They withdrew towards the east gate, pursued by the enemy militia. In doing so, the pursuers exposed their backs to the German archers on the walls, suffering grievously from their arrows. Soon the enemy militia were wavering. When the German mounted sergeants realised this, they halted their horses and returned, putting the Milanese to flight.
On the west gate, the German town militia had also scaled the walls unopposed, but the third regiment of Milanese returned to the walls and hurried to intercept them. With the towers now firing in support of the Milanese, the Germans realised that contesting the walls was unsound and so they raced down the steps, off the walls, towards the town centre. The fourth Milanese regiment was also hurrying from the town centre to catch the German town militia, but the Imperial infantry were able to take another road back - evading both pursuing regiments.
Having broken the first enemy regiment, Henry now reoccupied the town centre. He ordered fire arrows be loosed at the fourth enemy regiment and then sent his regiment of knights to battle them. Cavalry versus spearmen in narrow streets was a potentially foolhardy move, but the Milanese were losing spirit - they routed without much loss to the German knights. Then the German town militia turned to face the third enemy regiment. Supported by Henry’s own escort and the other horse, the Germans slew the garrison captain, bringing a successful end to the assault.
Henry ordered the town occupied. Sacking it would yield only 4000 florins, not worth blackening the good name of a future Emperor. When Henry looked at the casualty lists, he whistled: he had lost only 122 men - most notably half the mounted sergeants who had bought time at the south gate. Given the trepidation which Henry had begun the assault, this was a good result. Still, Henry hoped not to enjoy his victory for too long. Immediately on taking up residence in the town, he wrote the Chancellor an urgent note, informing him of the conversation with the inquisitor and begging to be moved rapidly away from his orb, to Bern and perhaps in time to Innsbruck to help his father face the Viennese threat.
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Defense of Vienna
"The men are ready for the sally, mein Herr!"
"Tell them, that they will have their fight, but it won't be us attacking. Looks like they finally got around to assaulting our walls."
Leopold stood on the battlement over the gate, his gaze directed at the Venetian column advancing towards the city. Ever since the reports had come in that the Venetians had withdrawn the larger part of their infantry from the siege, he had tried to get confirmation of this. Finally a spy had reported that the attacker's force had indeed been diminished and Leopold had immediately ordered his men to ready themselves for an attack in the morning.
It seems that the Venetians had gotten information on their own preparations and were now marching on the city. They had a ram built and also some ladders.
As their force consisted mainly of Mailed Knights and the bodyguard of Allessandro Selvo their general, their only two units of infantry were now manning the siege equipment. Peasant Archers were pushing the ram and Italian Spear Militia was ready to scale the walls.
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"Looks like a straightforward attack, Rainer. Let's organize a straightforward defence then."
"Jawohl, mein Herr!"
Leopold was already leaving the battlement to saddle his horse and address his men. With the Venetians heading straight for the south gate, that would be the place to meet them.
He organized three of his Spear Militia in a box around the gate, ready to give a sharp welcome to anyone coming through the gate. The walls around the gate were manned by Town Militia and Spear Militia respectively. The Spear Militia positioned to the left of the gate were the ladders were to be expected. The rest of the Town Militia was arrayed behind the Spears to charge once combat has begun. Leopold and his bodyguard blocked the main causeway to the city square to lend their support to the Spears directly in front of them.
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Soon enough the Italian Spear Militia was scaling the wooden walls, while the ram hammered at the gates of Vienna. Fierce fighting erupted on the battlements, but it looked as though the Imperial forces could hold.
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The gates had been breached.
"Steady men, Steady!" cried Leopold to the assembled Spears that would have to take the charge from the Venetian cavalry and had to hold.
Furiously the Venetian cavalry charged through the gates and their commander even threw his Peasant Archers into the fray.
"Advance!" yelled Leopold once the fighting in front of him had ensued.
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A glance to the walls showed that the Imperial troops had held and the remaining Italian Spear Militia was already fleeing the field.
"Rainer! Get a messenger up the walls. Let's put those ladders to use, shall we! Tell the Spears to get down there and block the gates from the outside. That vile oath-breaker will not escape from my city!"
While Leopold charged forward with his bodyguards, the other Town Militia was already in contact with the enemy horsemen. Already many of them were pulled off their horses and the battle seemed to go bad for the Venetians.
As though sensing his doom, Alessandro Selvo ordered a hasty retreat. Unfortunately before the Spears had closed off the gate.
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"Damn coward! Ride! Ride hard, Ritter of the Reich. I will not let that traitor escape!"
Spurring his horse onward, Leopold led his retinue out of the gates in hot pursuit of the Venetian cavalry.
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Alessandro Selvo made good use of his head-start though and was able to escape the grasp of Duke Leopold.
Disheartened Leopold and his men return from their pursuit. He meets up with Rainer at the Towns Square where the captured Venetians await their fate.
"Mein Herr, what do we do with the prisoners?"
Leopold glances briefly over the men in front of him. One of them is a young noble, a retainer of Alessandro Selva surely. Leopold fixates him with his gaze:
"You have entered my lands under the cover of goodwill! I gave you assistance and trusted in the power of our alliance! You betrayed your word, you have lost your honour. There's nothing left for me to do, but to hand you the fate of every traitor!"
He turns to Rainer, a determined expression on his face. "Kill them!" Rainer looks at his master as though to object. "They're traitors and oath-breakers, they deserve nothing less!" Without another glance to the prisoners Leopold leaves the town square, while Rainer instructs his men to do the grizzly business.
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The Defense of Milan
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Otto von Kassel was sitting down to his breakfast porridge when a messenger intruded, "My lord! The Venetians are bringing up a ram to attack our east gate!"
"What!", said Otto slamming down his spoon, "Did they bring up reinforcments during the night?"
"Well. . .no", mumbled the messenger, "That company of crossbowmen has decided to attack."
"They're idiots! Oh well, this will let me end this farce! Have our 'garrison' drawn up, archers to the walls next to the east gate. . .
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. . .and my retainers to the south gate. I'm going to finish my breakfast."
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With Otto's men in position, the brave, but stupid, Venetians began their assault.
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Despite suffering losses the pavise crossbowmen were able to bring the ram to the gate. In their haste to enter the city, however, they failed to notice the cavalry charging toward them through the mist.
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It would be their last mistake.
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All the Venetians were killed or captured.
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Otto surveyed the bound prisoners in front of him. From the little Italian he knew, he understood that they were begging for their lives. They mentioned the chivalrous Chancellor Sigismund, known throughout Europe for his mercy towards prisoners.
As the morning mist burned off, Otto looked east past his captives, squinting into the sun. He could see a large dust cloud on the horizon. A much larger Venetian force was on its way. This victory was only temporary.
"Of course you may join your comrades", Otto told the prisoners, "You have fought bravely and will be released. After, of course, we hack off your thumbs. I will not have you firing crossbows again!"
Otto chuckled darkly as the prisoners began screaming, he called for a chopping block and an axe.
After the deed was done, and the Venetians' digits were placed in their coin purses, Otto spoke again, "Now go! Tell that army to the east what awaits them if they come here. Next time I will cut off more than just thumbs!"
The Butcher's Bill:
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Battle of Kamienski
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Dietrich of Saxony was not happy. He sat on his war horse on a hill near the village of Kamienski, to South East from Stettin. A beutifull valley opened under his eyes,as he sat on his horse looking at a dust cloud in the distance, created by rapidly advancing horse of one of his scouts.The ground was lovely,but he had no missile troops to protect the hills he had deployed his men on.
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The scouts had spotted the enemy force and the reports sayed that there were nearly 200 Polish mounted noblemen coming at his way with about 100 Nobles on foot. He had little over hundred Spearmen and about same amount of Peasants as his infantry and Adolf Von Mahren´s and his own knights,amounting 62 men on horseback.
He had the high ground,but what to do with it? The Polish were known of their use of missiles on horseback so they could just run around his force,hurling missiles from their horses,while the heavier German Knights couldnt catch them. There were only glumps of trees on the hills,so he Dietrich could not protect his force by going inside an forest. Dietrich sat there for a while looking around and thinking.
For a little while he forgot the Polish army aproaching the battlefiield and the upcoming battle.He didnt think of the last years marching around the Reich on muddy roads with his men, building watchtowers and waiting for the message from Kaiser that he wouldnt be the Duke of Franconia anymore. In his eyes he saw his beutifull wife,smiling at him,like she had done on many quite evenings,when they were with each other smiling talking and doing what lovers do.
Dietrich woke up from his thoughts,as he heard the loud yell from the aproaching messenger: "The Polish are coming! The Polish are coming!"
Quickly he called to him,Von Mahren and the captain of the Spearmen.
Dietrich spoke with determination in his voice:
"Gentlemen. We are not here to die today! We will beat the Polish here today.Captain! Take command of the Peasants also and deploy your men to that ridge between these two hills."
Captain looked in Dietrichs eyes and nodded like a man who is going into a certain death and started to turn around to give orders to his men. But before he could,Dietrich continued:
"Captain, listen carefully. You will be our bait with your men. I will deploy my Knights on the other side of this hill we are standing so the Polish wont see us from the valley. Von Mahren will deploy his Knights,there behind the other hill on your right side. When the Polish Nobles see that there are only few men on foot on a hill against them, they will come right at you. Now listen carefully,since what you do then can decide the battle. When The Polish cavalry aProaches your men, you order your troops to run. And you will keep running untill you reach the highest spot on the ridge. Then turn around and fight and hold the line.I will attack the Polish right and Von Mahren their left flank. If God will´s we will trap them and the day is ours.If not,then atleast no one can say we didnt try."
Dietrich stared the captain of the Spearmen for a second and continued:
"Did you understand my orders?"
Captain nodded,looking same time worried and anxious.
"Then go man and give your orders to your men!"
Dietrich turned towards Von Mahren and sayed:
"My good man Mahren, what we are about to do could be the last thing for both of us. Do you have any questions?"
Mahren answered briefly:
"My Lord! Nothing to ask.Lets run down the Polish scum!"
Dietrich smiled becouse of the determinanation of the younger man and continued:
"Remember.Wait untill the Polish get in melee with our foot men.We cant let them escape or we are Finished.We will meet at the center once the Polish have been slain. Good luck and may God be with us all."
Von Mahren nodded and started galloping towards his men.
The Battle ensued first like Dietrich had planned.The Polish Nobility charged the Spearmen and two units of them were trapped between the Spearmen and German Knights. Third Unit of the Polish Nole cavalry charged the same mass and routed Dietrichs peasants, but Dietrich rallied them with his warhorn after some time. Dietrich charged and formed up and again and again and again. He saw how on the right Von Mahren fought like a beast with his men,giving blows to right and left. But the Polish were no peasants and they just kept on fighting untill also the dismounted nobles entered the fray. Dietrich and his men were covered on blood of their own and their enemies,while forming up again and again. While after each charge there was less and less of them. Finally he had only three of his knights with him and he saw that there were not much more men left of Von Mahrens Knights. Dietrich thought that it was just matter of time,when the younger Lion or himself would be struck down to the mud.
But suddenly as Lord himself had watched over the German army.The Polish commander was struck down by one of the remaining spearmen. This cutted the backbone of the Nobility of Poland,that had so far fought equally to any German. The Polish still outnumbering the tired Germans,broke of through and rode away,while the few German Knights led by Dietrich and Von Mahren charged after them.
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The ridge was a grim site of butchery.Dead and dying men and horses with the ground coloured red from the blood. The Polish horses were faster, so after short time Dietrich ordered his knights to turn around and finish of the reminders of the Dismounted Polish.
Dietrichs tired men,what was left of them had captured only few prisoners,but as there were not many of them left themselves either. Dietrich had no choice,but execute the prisoners and move his army of the area before another Polish army would arrive.
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The Butchers bill:
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Battle in the Alps
Defence of Bologna
Northen Italy, 1136
Jobst von Salva looked out into the open plains, near the Alps. Here was the spot where the troops of the ROman Republic fought over 500 years ago, and now here are there predecsors. This battle was a small one, and the first battle Jobst von Salva has commanded.
There aim was to destroy the Veneatian Soldiers. A outline appeared on the hrizon, and slowly that outline turned into the figure of a horse and its rider. It turned out to be a scout. The scout wore armour silver and gull, and a helm for his head. He raced up to Jobst von Salva and stopped.
"Please,Jobst von Salva, sir, I have a report on the Veneatian Army" said the scout, Jobst von Salva nodded.
The scout continued,
"It is a meager force of 200 troops, 3 units of Armoured soldiers, one company is seriously short of soldiers" said the scout. Jobst shooed the scout away, and turned to his Majors.
"How should we approach them?" asked jobst, the Majors looked out onto the plains.
"There protected by a forest on one side" commented one,
"So we can not attack from that way" said the other major, Jobst von Salva nodded. Jobst looked on the other side, and pointed.
"Theres hills and mountains on that side aswell" said a Major,
"The troops could easily march over the hills" said another,
"yes but imagine, they'd be sweating baddly climbing the hills, and when they engaged the Veneatians..." said jobst, not finishing his sentence,
"Then we attck downhill" finished one major. Jobst shook his head,
"That leaves us one thing, so heres the battle plan" said Jobst, the 2 Majors lisntened closely.
"All 6 companies of our soldiers shall charge the Veneatian army herad on, distracting them." said jbost, he continued,
"There will be a buffer, so when they are in battle, 1 soldiers are to wothdraw to the forests, then strike out behind the Venetian Buffer. Meanwhile my Bodyguard and me, shall travel over the hills and hide, then when the buffer is gone, our army attacks the Generals unit, while thats happening two units are to go either side, and block us from view, we will round around them, and attack from behind" finished Jobst von Salva, the Majors nodded, it was a good plan, enough to get them through alive. jobst issued hos orders, and watched the Majors hurry off, and heard them yelling out commands to there companies. Jobst was relieved, remembering the days of when he was a Knight, and had fought with Dietrich von Saxony in poland. jbost sighed, those days were tough. Now he was a General, Jobst formed up with his bodyguard, a unit of highly experinced Knights, all hand picked by Jobst von Salva. He knew them all well, and knew they knew him, as they trained with Jobst. Jobst von Salva stayed with his unit, and made signals that the Roman Army is to start the battle plan. The veneatians had not moved yet, and were standing still. The Imperial Army moved forward. Jobst waited patiently, finally the army was close. Trumpets sounded, soldiers cried, and the army ran forward, swords and spears raised. The two armies clashed, and from where Jobst was, couldn't see anything. then Jobst von Salva remembered his Battle Plan, and the Bodyguard moved to the hills. When they were behind the hills, they saw not a lot, as thye were concentrating. But they saw the Veneatian buffer rout, and the Imperial Army ran foward and attacked the Generals unit. Jobst saw the signal, the two units of Imperial spearmen moved to the sides, blocking tje Cavarly from view, and Jbost and his bodyguards moved around the fighting queitly, until they were behind the Veneatians. Then they charged. And hit the Veneatians hard, the two sides clashinh like waves. Jobst von Salva unit hit the Venetians, the back soldiers fell forward like a wave, and the front soldiers fell like a wave. And soon all but 24 were dead. They had won the battle, and had caputred 150 venetian soldiers. An offer of Ransom was sent to the Venetians, they refused, that night there were none from the venetian army left, but 20 who escaped.
Battle of Stendal, September 10th, 1136 Anno Domini
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The Franconian force was camped between Stettin and Magdeburg in region of Stendal for a while now. Dietrich had sent letters to Chancellor Sigismund,so he could engage a small Polish force consisting of Polish Vendic allies, hardy woodsmen armed with axes, who were blocking his army from moving to Stettin. For some reason Sigismund had not accepted Dietrich´s proposal and had only allowed some armoured Sergeants to enter his army.
At the morning of the 10th, Dietrich was talking with the Captain of the Spearmen about drilling of the peasants in his force when suddenly a scout rode to the camp and confronted Dietrich.
"The Vends have broken down their camp North from us and are heading here."
The Scout informed. Dietrich didnt know what to think about this turn of events.
"Why would the Vends challenge us to an open battle when we outnumber them and they have no cavalry".
Dietrich thought outloud,but the captain didnt have time to answer, when a loud sound of horn came from the South.
"Thats the war horn of Von Kastilien. To arms men!"
Dietrich shouted and ordered his page to get his armour. As he was getting on his suit of armour,he saw how the escort of Von Kastillien came in to the vicinity, behind one of the hills to the South. As Dietrichs servants got ready with his armour,Gunther Von Kastillien rode in to the camp and adressed Dietrich still from the horseback.
"Mein Duke. Two small armies are heading towards us! One from the South and one from the West. The Southern one is advancing rapidly,becouse its all Polish Noble cavalry. One from the West is infantry,but they should be here soon also.
Dietrich understood the situation. They were trapped from three directions and becouse most of his army was infantry they couldnt retreat in time from here. Dietrich sayed to Von Kastillien.
"It seems that the Polish have outsmarted us and trapped us on open terrain with good strategy. I think they leave us no choice other then give them fight,right here,right now. It is time for you to get your pabtism of war today Von Kastillien,are you ready?"
Von Kastillien spoke with terrible smile on his face.
"Mein Lord,this is the day i have waited for all my life. Lets give helll to the Polish dogs!"
Dietrich smiled to Von Kastilliens will to fight and continued.
"Allright again we will have to face Polish Nobles with their Javelins. In the battle of Kamienski,we were able to get them in the melee with feigned infantry retreat and that is exactly what we are going to do again,since we still dont have a single archer in this army."
Dietrich deployed his force pretty much the same way is he had done at Kamienski.Infatry in the high ground and cavalry hidden behind a ridge on the both flanks.
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The Polish Southern cavalry army appeared in the field first and immediately attacked the german infantry,hurling missiles and killing men,while the infantry run like they were running away. But this time the cavalry counter charge worked better then last time. Gunthers men on the right charged and Gunther killed the enemy captain with his first swing of his sword.
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As Dietrich sharged the last unit of the Polish nobles and Gunther catched the second one immediately after the first one,when the German infantry entered the strife the Polish broke and started fleeing. The Captain of the Spearmen shouted:
"Enemy infatry to the North and West aproaching!!"
Dieter shouted back,
"Infantry folllow the cavalry,on the double!"
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As the German cavalry chased the remainders of the Polish mounted nobles of the field Dietrich commanded his infantry to create a line facing North West. Tired from the running the infantry got a little brake as the cavalry of Dietrich and Gunther deployed on the right side of the infantry. This time they were facing unit of Polish dismounted nobles and another one of peasants. Dietrich saw how the success of early battle had got into the army. They were ready to strike down the aproaching enemy.
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German infantry took the charge of the Polish noblemen as Dietrich´s cavalry hit them on their left flank.Simultaneously Von Kastilliens Knights smashed into the Polish peasants.The Polish broke down as the German knights pursued them relentlesly.
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Soon there was nothing left of the second Polish army and Dietrich ordered the Spearmen to the line,Von Kastillien to the right and he himself stayed on the left as the Vends came running towards them yelling their war cryes and wawing hteir fearsome war axes.
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As the Woodsmen touched the infantry line,The German Kights charged on their both flanks with devastating force. One of Von Kastilliens Knights run through the Polish captain with his lance.
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As Dietrichs men hit the other end of the Polish line,they broke and run. Again German Kights pursued them untill there was no Vend left.They were all either killed or captured.
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After the last Polish had been killed or captured,the German Infantry raised a huge victory roar. Maybe many of them had thought this was their last day on earth and were now so happy after seeing that instead of death they had gained an heroic victory.
Dietrich rode to Von Kastillien and the two shaked hands with their blood soaked gauntlets still on their hands.Duke of Franconia ordered Gunther Von Kastillien to kneel and sayed with a loud voice that men around could hear.
"By the Grace of our lord and saviour! I knight thee Gunther Von Kastillien as knight of Franconia and the Holy Roman Empire! You have shown skill and valour today that are hard to match even by the most experienced of Knights.After counting, did you not just slay the enemys cavalry captain,with your own hand,but you and your men killed 140 Polish and captured 111,while loosing just 7 knights. I am happy and honoured to have men like you with me. Rise Knight Von Kastillien!"
The army gave load cheer to Von Kastillien as he stood up after Dietrich had touched both of his shoulders,with the tip of his sword.
The Butchers Bill:
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After the battle Dietrich sent messengers to Magdeburg with offer of returning the prisoners to the Polish if they payed ransom, but the Polish rejected the offer so the 251 captured Polish were put to the sword.
Battle of the Danube Crossing
Duke Leopold sat on his horse staring glumly ahead. The river Danube flowed through the valley in front of him, where a massive stone bridge spanned a narrow gap. Gottfied von Holstein had set up his army just opposite the bridge where it occupied a formidable defensive position. Steep hills rise to both sides of the road giving plenty of high ground to the defenders and promising vicious uphill fighting for any attacker.
Today the attacker was Leopold and at the thought of this he felt his anger rising. He had adressed the Chancellor with his request for a field battle against the Venetians. Instead he now had to adress an aspiring guildmaster with a rag-tag retinue of Archers and Crossbowmen. Leopold would have preferred to deal with the Venetian struggle first, before turning to von Holstein.
The man had long been a rival of Leopolds tax policies in the City Council. When war had broken out, not only with Milan, but also with Venice and now even Poland, trade, the life blood of the city of Vienna, had trickled to a near halt. The guildmaster was rightfully upset at the lowered trade revenues, but when he had mustered a small army and occupied the strategic river crossing close to Vienna he had gone a step too far.
The man had never possesed enough backbone to oppose Leopold in this way, but the recent sieges of Vienna had shown Leopolds vulnerability and further damaged the trade. He had hoped that with the Venetian thread banned from Austrian lands, Holstein would see reason again and turn down his weapons.
His orders from the Chancellor were clear though. He had read through them so often that he could repeat them from memory. He was not happy with this situation and hopefully soon the reforms proposed by Prince Henry would be passed in the Diet and ducal affairs would be settled by the Duke in question and not by Imperial orders. At least Sigismund had agreed with his request and given him enough florins to muster mercenary forces to deal with this threat adequately.
Those were problems for another time though, currently he had an army composed of Missile Infantry and some peasants in front of him. The only real thread were von Holstein and his bodyguard of Feudal Knights. Leopold couldn't imagine where he had taken the money from to lay his hands on these kinds of superb fighters.
Lazily Leopold raised a hand to signal the advance. There really wasn't anything to do for him than cross the bridge as fast as possible.
The Mercenary Spearmen would be the first across the bridge, no need to waste precious Austrian soldiers in this fight. Slowly the column of Austrian soldiers set in motion while the Rebel defenders were already preparing their bows, ready to deliver the first volley.
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Leopolds plan relied solely on the initiative of his fighters. They had to cross the bridge as fast as possible and attack any Archer in sight. Luckily the narrow gore did not provide too much maneuverability for Holsteins Feudal Knights. His men had to keep momentum and push forward, if they were halted for just a second the Rebel arrows would take their bloody toll. Seeing that the Mercenary Spearmen were already hesitating halfway across the bridge as they anticipated the hail of bolts and arrows that would soon come in their direction Lepold bellowed a cry of frustration and anger and spurred his horse onward. If those Mercenaries were scared of Missile attacks he had to show them that their leader was not!
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Bolts and arrows rained down on Lepold and his retinue as his horses had gallopped to the fore, taking the punch from the Rebel projectiles he urged the Speamen forward: "Charge! Charge you coward dogs! Take the bank!"
Immediatelly the Spearmen rushed forward. Seemingly intimidated by this display of valour von Holstein panicked and ordered a hasty retreat. He was not willing to face the Austrian charge head on, but instead ordered a retreat to the ridge just west of the road.
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Leopold urged his men onward now that the bank was clear and the enemy was on the run it was important that they don't loose momemtum. He ordered the Mercenary Spearmen up the ridge to follow von Holstein, while he took the Town Militia with him in a wide berth to eventually attack the Rebels flank. His Miltia Spearmen were ordered to support the Mercenaries where necessary.
Once the Mercenaries had crested the ridge, von Holstein ordered his army around and let his Missile units attempt a desperate charge, led by him and his Feudal Knights. His end came quickly at the hands of a Mercenary Spearmen.
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Leopold had also brought his men in position and now charged the flank of the remaining mass of Peasant Archers, Peasants and Crossbowmen. With their leader killed in the initial assault and pressure from several sides, the enemy soon succumbed and tried to flee the field.
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All except a unit of Hussars were throwing down their weapons and asked for quarter. With half his army occupied with securing the prisoners the Hussites had enough time to set up position further west on the river bank and opened fire on the Mercenary Spearmen following them, who had just driven back a futile attack of von Holsteins followers.
With the prisoners secured Leopold urged his horsemen onwards to destroy the last pocket of Hussite resistance. With Austrians swarming over their position the Hussites were quickly dealt with.
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Meanwhile von Holsteins followers had mustered up the courage for another attack this time on the Town and Spear Militia left behind to deal with the prisoners.
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Their charge was quickly broken however and finally the last of the Rebel scum fled the field.
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Gottfied von Holstein had already met his deserved fate and Duke Leopold gave the orders to have the other captured ringleaders executed to serve as an example against future rebellion!
Although Leopold had disagreed with the Chancellors plans, he felt delighted to have beaten von Holstein so thoroughly in this battle. The City Council and the merchants would consider it twice before they raised their arms against his rule again.
His delight lasted only a short while though as he remembered the Venetian forces to the South. If the Chancellor gave him the orders he would be ready to strike at them in the field. If not, he would have to wait at them once again, hovering like a coward behind Vienna's mighty walls and have to kill every last one of them once they attack.
This once again brought an evil smile on his face.
The Siege of Bologna, 1138
Henry watched his young son Hans sleeping peacefully and thought of the slaughter that the day would bring. What kind of sick world were we bringing children into, he thought? Slowly, he turned away to refocus. The coming battle required all his attention.
I wonder what siege equipment Sigismund has provided for me this time, Henry mused with a vague feeling of foreboding? Henry had been pleasantly surprised when his father had provided two rams for him at Metz, but he had struggled to take Dijon with only the one ram and two ladders provided by Sigismund.
Henry saw the engineers lounging outside the manor he was bivouacked in and stiffened, approaching them with a lofty air:
“You fellows, let’s see the siege engines you have constructed then.”
One thickset man with curly hair slowly turned to look at his jowly companion. Both gave each other blank looks, then the jowly companion rubbed his arm across his dripping nose and cleared his throat awkwardly:
“Well, you see, Sir, it was like this. Count Sigismund just told us to come ‘ere. He didn’t say nowt about building anything. We thought some of your French lads were goin’ handle that side of things.”
“What?!” yelled Henry. “You are siege engineers. This is a siege. You are supposed to build siege engines. How can you not get that?”
The jowly engineer narrowed his eyes together and repeatedly more slowly, as if Henry were an idiot. “Like, I was saying, Sir, we thought some of your French lads…”
Henry turned and threw his hands up in the air, then stalked back inside the manor. Inside, he cursed like a trooper, unaware that his son Hans had risen.
“Why are you banging your head against the wall, father?” Hans inquired curiously. Henry stopped abruptly. Aww, don’t stop, Dad, thought Hans, It’s funny.
Henry shook his now rather sore head and instantly regretted it. Oh well, Hans was old enough to understand, he supposed.
“I am supposed to take this city - Bologna, your grandfather’s old estate - today but I have no siege engines to get us over the walls.” Henry explained. And, silently adding, we’ll be stuck here, making me look like an idiot while Dietrich bathes in the adoration of the Diet for his victory. Dietrich was Henry’s greatest rival as a commander - ever since Dietrich shot to fame with his stunning capture of Hamburg in a coup de main, it was clear that he was the man to watch. Henry had been left scrambling in the man’s wake, trying to rival his accomplishments. It would not do for a future Emperor to be outshone by his generals. Dietrich’s self-imposed exile had removed the pressure from Henry, but the Franconian Duke’s heroic defeat of the Poles showed he was back with a vengeance.
“Is there no way you can take the city without siege engines?” inquired Hans.
Henry thought. No, it was hopeless. There were no Imperial agents in Bologna that would open the gates for him. But wait…there was a small Venetian relief army nearby. Already it was marching to reinforce the garrison. Henry brightened and spoke to Hans:
“Remember the funny story I told you about the Nubian?”
Hans nodded, sitting expectantly. “Tell me it again, father.”
“Well, the Nubians live in a hot dry place and often have to travel far from any known water source. So, when they get thirsty and don’t know where there is water, do you know what they do?”
Hans jumped up: “Catch a monkey!”
“That’s right.” said Henry. “They trap a monkey and put some salt in front of it. The monkey loves the salt and licks it greedily. But then what happens?”
Hans shot up again: “The monkey gets thirsty!”
“Indeed, the sun is burning and the salt makes the monkey very thirsty. So then the clever Nubian lets the monkey go and races after it, as it leads him right to the nearest watering hole.”
Hans smiled contentedly, but then said puzzled: “That’s a funny story. But what does it have to do with capturing this city?”
Henry smiled back and said enigmatically: “You have to wait here, my son. I’m off to catch me a monkey.”
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Henry saw the Venetian relief force approach - they seemed to be moving at a run. Three regiments of missile troops, including pavise crossbowmen, and one and a half regiments of Italian spear militia. They would be the devil’s own job, if inside the city manning its walls. But out in the open, they would be easy prey.
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Lacking any cavalry other than his own escort, Henry repeatedly charged the Venetian missile troops. It was not a battle, it was a slaughter.
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His mercenary spearmen charged the Venetian spear militia, but the Italians’ hearts were not in it - all they wanted was to get inside the safety of the settlement walls. Like a thirsty monkey running for a watering hole, Henry thought.
“Stop men, hold back. Let them go. Follow them at a distance.” Henry restrained his escort. It was important that the fleeing relief force not be completely caught and destroyed in the open - they had to make through the city gates. Timing was everything - close too soon and they would be destroyed before they made it; close too late and the gates would be closed in Henry’s face.
Damn it, they were rallying under the castle walls. That’s it, we have to go in now.
“Forward men, smash through them” cried Henry and pray that the poor fools manning the city gates take pity on them.
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For a minute, Henry thought the city defenders were going to let the relief force die outside the gates, like Vercingetorix did to his women folk and children at Alesia. But the Venetians were made of softer stuff than that legendary Gaul and slowly the gates opened to let the routing Italians through.
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“Onwards, men, onwards.” Henry urged his men through the gates. Soon they had run down one regiment of Italian spears. But out of the corner of his eye, Henry could see the other regiment appearing behind him. It had manned the city walls after entering, but now that Henry was inside, the Venetians were coming down off the walls and slamming the city gates shut behind the trapped German cavalry. The Italian spear militia lowered their spears and set off towards Henry’s men.
Henry decided to press on, racing his men forward, away from the pursuing spears and towards the city centre. He needed to put a decent distance between his cavalry and the spearmen behind him. Everything depended on turning on the enemy behind him, but getting a good charge off in a crowded city street was a tricky matter. Henry needed time and space to pull it off.
Just as he was approaching the city centre, he halted. He did not want to attract the garrison to him before he had control of the south gate once again. He needed the gate to bring up his infantry.
“About turn, men. Let’s do it.”
His escort turned back up and set off towards the Italian spearmen who had closed the south gate on them. As his horse built up speed, Henry wondered - could they do it? Could they get off a proper cavalry charge? Then he noticed the Italian spear militia in front of him - they were hastily forming a schiltron. Clever fellows, Henry thought admiringly, then with alarm, he thought: this could get messy. Just as Henry started to panic, the lances of his knights came down and the unfortunate Italian spearmen were caught by a ferocious charge.
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The brave Italian spear militia were overrun in seconds. After that, the end was not in doubt. Henry’s men reopened the gate and a mass of German infantry advanced towards the Venetian garrison, now concentrated in the city centre.
Henry’s escort ran down a couple of ballista’s who were too slow to reach the centre.
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A few brave Venetian knights tried to stem the tide of German foot.
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Then the battle bogged down in a struggle through the street leading north to the city centre. Venetian armoured sergeants battled their German counterparts. Henry despised battles of attrition and whipped his horse through the narrow city streets, aiming to approach the city centre from the east. However, a second regiment of Venetian armoured sergeants had anticipated his move and was rushing to block him. Blast it, thought Henry - about turn again, we’ll approach from the north instead. The greater mobility of the horsemen eventually paid off and Henry was able to burst through into the city centre, into the rear of the first regiment of Venetian armoured sergeants.
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The second regiment of Venetian armoured sergeants was still huffing and puffing far away in pursuit of him. When it finally came up, it was alone. Henry was able to position his cavalry in a side road, so that the Venetians were trapped between Henrys’ horse to the west and the German infantry to the south.
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Frozen with indecision, the Venetians started to fall to the German crossbows, until eventually their brave captain recognised the inevitable and sued for terms.
The butcher’s bill:
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Henry released the captured Venetians and occupied Bologna, giving him a reputation for respecting his enemy. For taking a city without siege engines, he would henceforth be regarded as a siege expert. And, to little Hans at least, he would always be known as a man who could tell a tale.
Battle of Graz
Leopold had been travelling hard the past days, from the Danube crossing over Vienna he had headed south directly. Accompanied by nothing more than one company of Mercenary Crossbowmen and one of Frankish Knights he was supposed to attack the Venetian Councillor Bartolomeo who had brought the same troops to the field. Curse Sigismund that chivalrous bastard! was all Leopold could think of at the moment, while he waited for his outriders to pin down the exact location of the enemy. It would come to battle today in the surroundings of the border village of Graz. It had been good to show Imperial and Dukal presence this far south where nothing but Venetian armies had been seen during the last years.
I have the men in Vienna ready to crush that Venetian upstart underfoot! His reports had indicated that Bartolomeo was treated as the successor of his father in the post of Doge and that he wanted to cement his aspirations by dealing with the Austrians where many others before him had failed.
If only Sigismund had given me enough men I'd be swarming over these hills and ferret him out!
Duke Leopolds scout had been looking for the equally small Venetian force and so far the Councillor has avoided Leopold.
Chivalry! What was the man thinking. Rumour had it that he had to duel it out with Alessandro Selva instead of shooting him to pieces by his accompanying army. Chivalry was for the tournament field or for open diplomacy. But on the battlefield. You won. Period. You did everything you could to achieve this goal, especially against those Venetian oath-breakers. They deserved death, and Leopold would be giving it to them.
A rider appeared on the outcrop of the ridge and advanced towards Leopold.
"My lord, the Venetians have set up camp two miles to the East!"
Excellent!
"Let's move men and teach those merchant dogs a lesson, coming to our lands uninvited!"
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Bartolomeo had set his men up on one of the rolling hills, while Leopold advanced with his army from the south. He turned to the leader of the Mercenary forces: "Let your Crossbowmen advance in a straight line. Loose formation and open fire as soon as you're in range! I will take the Frankish Knights over the right flank. You just keep shooting at them. Try to target their Knights, I want them wounded or dead before we charge."
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With Leopold's forces set up on the flank of the enemy, Bartolomeo adjusted his troops slightly. His main line was still facing the Crossbowmen however and he had sent his own Missiles forward, wich opened fire. Several volleys of crossbow bolts were exchanged, before the Venetians withdrew closer to their lines.
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Target those damn Knights! They're cavalry is outnumbering us, we have to even out the odds.
As ordered by Duke Leopold the Mercenary Crossbowmen now concentrated their fire on the Frankish Knights making use of the armour penetration of their bolts.
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It was a slow exchange of volleys, but slowly the Frankish Knights lost more and more men to the Austrian bolts. At the same time the Frankish Knights were obstructing the Venetian Crossbowmen who were decimating Leopolds Missile troops. Slowly the number of cavalry turned in favour of Leopold. Not wanting to waste more of his Crossbowmen he ordered the charge. The Frankish Knights were supposed to charge head on, while he would try to outflank the enemy and strike at their back.
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Once the Frankish Knights had engaged, Bartolomeo ordered his retinue forward to join the fight. This gave Leopold exactly the time he needed to form up a charge into the Venetian rear.
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The impact of Leopolds bodyguard crushed the Venetian resistance. Councillor Bartolomeo was killed during the charge by one of Leopolds retainers, who had surely earned his spurs this day. Shocked by the surrounding Germans and without a leader the Mercenaries soon turned to flee.
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"Chase them! Chase them! Let none escape!" Leopold urgeds his followers onward to capture not only the fleeing Crossbowmen but also all of the remaining retaineres of Councillor Bartolomeo.
Every last captured men was put to the sword by the Austrians. Leopold wanted it to be known that every Venetian setting foot on Imperial soil again had forfeit his life and would not be spared. This of couser entailed any Mercenary company foolish enough to collaborate with the Venetian enemy.
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"They've been camped up there for months, m'lord."
Maximillian Mandorf squinted, but the fog was too think. For a moment he thought he could see movement, but it was gone before he could focus on it.
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He turned and looked at the Bavarian woodsman. "Archers?"
The man shook his head. "Not that I saw, but nearly every one I saw had a crossbow." He looked up the hill. "They'll give it to you good when you go up the hill."
Mandorf barked an order to the nearest militia sergeant; the entire line began to move. "That's why we're not going up the road."
...
Half an hour later, the view was reversed. The militia had taken their time in climbing the hill, but they had avoided the road held by the brigands. With the army now assembled on the top of the hill, the situation had been reversed. The crossbowmen were now below, with the militia on top.
Nuremburg was a town of merchants, few men knew how to use a bow. The few that could be found were largely hunters from the local forests. They were peasants and unskilled in battle, but with this height advantage, they could shoot nearly as far as English longbowmen.
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The unarmored crossbowmen began to fall fast. Realizing their predicament, they charged up the hill, desperate to close the distance and return fire. The arrows continued to bite though, and both groups had lost nearly a quarter of their number before they were in range.
They had just begun to crank back their primitive crossbows when Mandorf raised his sword and yelled. "For God and the Reich!"
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The thin lines crumpled in bloody mess. Those on either side who had survived fled for their lives. The German knights rode them down without mercy. When the carnage was over, Mandorf rode back towards the militia lines. The archers were already showering the remaining armored spearmen.
A flicker of movement from the top of the hill startled Mandorf. His sword was halfway drawn when he saw the line of knights emerged from the fog. The Steward of Bavaria lifted his visor in amazement. They were of the Teutonic Order.
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One knight rode forward and gave a respectful bow. "Good morning, my lord. We were surprised to hear the sounds of battle so close to Nuremburg. Is this perhaps something that we could help with?"
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Mandorf looked back over his head. Half of the enemy spearmen were dead or dying. They continued to try and advance up the hill, but walking into the heavy rain of arrows was making their progress slow. "It appears that the militia is capable of finishing these ruffians. They've been harassing travelers on this road for years now, some of these men have lost friends. They have little cause for mercy."
The knight nodded. "As it should be. Those who prey upon unarmed men have forsaken the Word of God." Both men paused and watched for a few moments. Half a dozen men fell in only a few seconds.
"By chance do you know if Hildegard von Bingen is still in Nuremburg?" Mandorf looked over at the Teuton and nodded. "Yes, today she is, but she is riding out with me tomorrow. We shall not be back for some time."
An archer came running up, red-faced and breathing heavily. He bent over and took several deep breaths before speaking. "Sir... the... boys.... out of... arrows."
Mandorf looked over at the knight. "Pardon me a moment." He lowered his helm and spurred his horse forward.
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...
The Steward of Bavaria was still wiping blood from his sword when the Teuton rode forward. "Might I ask where you are traveling to?"
"Everywhere. I have recently been appointed Chancellor and I need to see the Reich for myself. There is only so much that can be done from my manor. With so many wars on all fronts, there are no regiments available to keep the roads safe for the commoners. This was but one of several groups of vagabonds that have been extorting good Bavarian Christians for years now. I mean to bring them to justice." Mandorf shrugged his shoulders. "Perhaps I will go west to Swabia afterwards, but I have not decided yet."
The knight paused to consider this for a moment. "We have come a long way to see Hildegard. We have heard she has visions from the Lord. It would be a shame to have to return to Frankfurt without having met her. Perhaps... would you accept our company on your travels?"
Mandorf smiled broadly. "I had hoped you would offer you services, Sir..."
The man put out his mailed hand and the two men shook vigorously. "Welf, my Lord, of the Teutonic Order."
"I would greatly enjoy the company of true Knights of Christ on my travels. I have taken vows of my own recently and no longer feel the same connection to my friends that I once did."
Sir Welf nodded. "Those of us who give our lives to the Lord have a clarity of purpose that bothers some of the less faithful. We would be honored to act as your guard during your Chancellorship. Perhaps when your term is over, you will consider joining our Order."
"That is a long time from now, Sir Welf. Come, let us spend one last night in Nuremburg. If we leave for the city now, we will still have time to hear evening Mass."
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Outside of Florence, 1142
Ah, Kaiser Heinrich thought, a proper battlefield.
This was the first time in many years that the Kaiser would be facing a professional army on a true field of battle. Ever since his automatic Chancellorship the only foes for the picking were random brigand parties and the occasional city garrison, although the Milanese in Genoa gave him fits and annihilated his entire bodyguard, save for Captain Ludwig.
Here though, it was finally different. He was facing a large Milanese army, commanded by a proper man of nobility. The field would be mostly open and flat. It would come down to the army's strength and his generalship.
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The stakes were high for both sides. Not only was the Milanese heir to the throne (although it was little more than two islands now) present, but this was their final army on the mainland. They had besieged Florence in hopes of gaining a toehold onto the mainland. If this army was to be defeated then they would be crippled for quite a long time.
Meanwhile, on the Imperial side, the Kaiser had just suffered an embarrassing defeat in a bid for his second Chancellorship. If he was to lose this battle then his reputation would never recover and his plans would be useless. In addition, the Imperial heir, Prinz Henry, was also present. If things were to go terribly and both royals were to die, the Reich might very well be plunged into civil war trying to figure out who would rule.
Right now, however, that was not on the Kaiser's mind. He was focused on relieving his beloved city of Florence. He would not be alone in this task. The city's garrison, over 500 strong, was sallying out to assist Heinrich in this operation.
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Their placement would be crucial. The way the Kaiser had deployed, making the Milanese face him, put the garrison in the one spot of the battlefield that wasn't flat and open. It also happened to be in the Milanese rear.
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In the best-case scenario, their presence would go unnoticed and they would slam into the already-engaged Milanese being pushed to the limit by Heinrich's army. In the worst-case scenario, they would simply keep several Milanese regiments occupied while the Kaiser defeated the main body of troops in front of him. He hoped that the garrison commander realized what his objective was, in any case.
Heinrich's main plan was to simply walk right up to the Milanese army and crush it. Nothing subtle. He hoped that Prinz Henry was paying attention, as the Prinz had just gone behind his back in the most recent Diet elections, all but securing Maximillian Mandorf the Chancellorship. The Kaiser prided himself on being up front and a man of action, and was slightly disgusted that Henry was turning out to be the opposite.
The march took place, but before the main engagement a fierce archery duel took place. The Milanese had superior weapons and numbers (Heinrich caught Prinz Henry muttering something about Staufen and pavisses), so his archers were tasked to do little more than absorb fire until he deemed the time right to attack with the infantry.
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Anxious, the Kaiser ordered the charge quickly and the melee was on.
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With the Florentine garrison being tied up in the woods, the Milanese enjoyed a small numerical advantage which was beginning to tell. Despite spotting some men running for the rear, Heinrich could see that his line was cracking. He motioned to Prinz Henry, who trotted over.
"Now, we charge in and push things in our favor."
Seconds later, the Prinz was still dumbfounded as he watched the Kaiser, followed by his escort, charge into the thick of fighting. A second later he recovered and followed his father into the melee, both of them catching and mauling a regiment of Italian militia trying to flank.
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Captain Ludwig, armor stained with blood, rode up to the Kaiser and the Prinz.
"Where the hell did they come from?"
A glance towards Florence provided the answer. Apparently the worst-case scenario with the garrison had happened.
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Several regiments that had routed the Florentines were making their way down the hill. Things were not looking good for the Empire.
"We'll never survive against that," Heinrich said to both escorts. "Let's overturn this line and free up the infantry. CHARGE!" Waving his red-gleaming sword high into the air, he plunged into the main battle line, several quicker horsemen following.
Prinz Henry just looked at Captain Ludwig, who shrugged. Was the Kaiser being this reckless on purpose? Also shrugging, he lead the rest of the cavalry into the fray.
The Imperial advantage lasted exactly three seconds. A series of loud swears signalled the arrival of Count Manno, the Milanese commander, and his escort. Now it would simply be which side's leader would go first.
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This was not terribly difficult to figure out. The two Imperial escorts were battle-hardened and extremely loyal, not to mention being more numerous and of German stock. Meanwhile, the Milanese were known for counting their money more than for their fighting prowess. Add in the fact that they were very hungry, having lived off of the Italian countryside for years, and the outcome was inevitable. Manno's cavalry ran, with Heinrich and Henry giving chase. Eventually the Milanese heir was slain, providing the turning point for the battle.
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Unfortunately, the Imperial army had no other cavalry, and the two escorts' mounts were too exhausted to provide chase towards the fleeing Milanese. The victorious army could only watch, trying to catch their breaths, as a significant remnant of their foe, spurred on by their second-in-command, headed for parts unknown.
Intelligence reports that the army circumvented both the Papal forces and Genoa, and passed out of our line of sight to the west of Milan itself. I assume that they are in the whereabouts of Marseille now, the Kaiser wrote in a letter to Chancellor Mandorf that night. In the future, I request more cavalry so the job can be properly finished.
He sealed the letter and sent it off. There. Now to move on to more pressing matters.
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Assault on Magdeburg,15.4.1144 AD
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Dietrich Von Saxony had been awake since early morning. He had been awake,since a messenger from Capital had woken him up in the middle of the Night. Messenger had carried grim news. Sigismund Der Stoltze had been assasinated near Dijon.
"I didnt like that man,but death like that is no way to die for a nobleman" Dietrich thought. Before the first light, Dietrich summoned Count Von Hamburg, Dietrich´s Veteran Captain Herman and the captain of the Mercenaries to his tent.
"Der Stoltze has been assasinated" Dietrich sayed to the gathered men. For a moment no one responded,complete silence fell to the tent.
"While i dont think this is good news,i think that this kind of news,used the right way should give just the kind of spirit we need for the army,in order to take that castle we have sieged for quite some time." Dietrich continued. "Men are tired of building all this siege equipment,but they are also tired on the Polish and their pillaging of our lands. With right trigger,we can chance their frustration into to an rage that will give us that castle." The others nodded,becouse they knew what Dietrich was saying was indeed true.
"I want you to go back to your men now and prepair to attack the walls just like we have planned. I will soon sound alert to the army and tell them the news."
At first light the German Warhorn´s sounded an alert on the camp. Sergeants drew the sleepy men out of their tents and gathered them in front of Magdeburg castle,where Dietrich,with his officers and bodyguards,waited fully armored and mounted,the sun rising behind the castle and colouring the dawn red. Once the army was gathered,Dietrich roared:
"Men! A German Elector and previous Chancellor Sigismund the Chivalrous have been murdered by our cowardly enemies! I wouldnt be suprised if it was the cowardous Polish who are behind this gruesome act and i think it is our duty as Germans to avenge the Death of Count Der Stoltze. So today,let it be our motto,Vengeange!Vengeange to all who oppose the Reich!"
The army started banging their weapons to their shields and as one man a terrible groan raised from their throats: "Vengeange!Vengeange!Vengeange!"
Dietrich roared over the warcry of the Franconian army: "Now men to your post! Leave none of the enemy alive!" And so the assault on Magdeburg started.
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The army was deployed on three parts.Spearmen with ladders on both sides of the castle and the main army in front of the single entrance. With the thundering roaring all the parts started runnning towards the walls simultaneously. Just as the ram was getting close to the gate,suddenly the gate opened and all the Polish on horses charged out.
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Count Von Hamburg shouted to Dietrich: "The Polish are sallying!" Dietrich sayed nothing just raised his sword and then swung it towards the Polish Nobles. With that sign all the Germans on horses charged the Polish cavalry.The fight was over in matter of seconds.The Polish didnt have time to spread out and charge,before they were crushed under the hooves of German knights.Polish commander of the garrison was amongst the first to fell.
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Simultaneously on the walls,the Polish Woodsmen came down from the walls in order to support the brave but foolish sally of their noblemen. Only the Polish Nobles on foot kept fighting vigorously on the Western wall,causing large amount of casulties to Dietrichs spearmen.
On the gate Dietrich yelled: "Ram!Ram to the gate!". Before the woodsmen got anywhere near the gate,it was broken down and all that was left to do for them was to be mauled by the German Knights running over them.
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Once the central of the castle was taken,Dietrich ordered all his infantry to kill of the remaining Polish Nobles on the Western wall. He turned towards Von Hamburg and ordered for him to dismount. As still they could both see men dropping of the western wall,shouting and killing each other. Dietrich knighted Von Hamburg.
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Soon the brave Polish nobles were killed to the last man and Magdeburg was taken. Dietrich looked around and was happy about what he saw. Polish had developed Magdeburg well.There were training facilities for all main troops he needed,cavalry,spears and archers. This castle could serve Franconia well for supplying troops for the Duke.
Soon an Scout galloped through the battered gates."My Lord! I have spotted an rebel force west to us.Maybe they were thinking of looting our camp incase we had been defeated here today." A narrow smile came to Dietrichs face as he addressed Von Hamburg "Von Hamburg,organise the defence of the castle,bury the dead and stop the looting,before our men have killed each and every living soul in this place.Il go attend these rebel scum myself." Dietrich gathered some of the men and rode out to meet the rebels.
Butchers Bill:
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Battle of Wotanwald
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Ever since Dietrich had taken command of his archer reinforcements,he had been on brilliant mood. He had inspected the gear of the archers and had tryed their bows personally,while constantly loosing when shooting at targets,becouse he was no match in archery for the hunters and foresters that were assigned in his archer troops.
The rebels had been running all over Franconia,trying to escape Dietrichs forces. The campaign had started to be more like hunting party then army in search of the enemy.
Finally today, the starving and exhausted rebels had stopped running and had gathered on a hill near an ancient worship place, that had given the name for the area,Wotanwald.
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Dietrich had gathered the commander of the archer and his other commanders to an ridge,where they could see the rebel forces. "Here is the plan mein herren. I have always wanted to see that ancient pagan worship place,so i will take the cavalry there out in the open, so the rebels can see us. Meanwhile you captain and your archers,will move around that hill and glimb from the other side, so that you will move in the flank of the rebels. Once you are there release few volleys on their dirty necks and me and my knights will come take care whats left of them.Understood captain?" Captain smiled on Dietrich and sayed "Exellent plan sire.We will put some arrows on their skulls,so they will understand that being a rebel in Franconia is short lived profession." Dietrich smiled back to the captain. He liked this simple man,who was somewhat an humorist on his simple and rugged way. "Allright then. If there is nothing to add. Lets go undo those rebel scum." Dietrich sayed and nodded to the men present.
As Dietrich moved through the open terrain with his knights,he could see how the rebels stood up and watched his men. The Franconian knights rode towards the ancient ruins, like they were on a field trip and didnt bother to watch the rebels.
Soon the Franconian archers had moved into the flank of the rebels and captain of the archers commanded "Loose!".
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The rebels were completely suprised. Dozens of men died instantly on the arrow storm and all the rebel commander could do was to order his spear men forward towards the archers.
Once Dietrich saw that the rebels had divided themselves. He ordered "Charge!target the crossbow men!" When the knights struck the crossbows,behind the enemy spears, the whole rebel army routed.
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Rebel spearmen had tryed to advance towards the Franconian archers,but all they had done was that they were struck an volley after volley of arrows. Once the crossbows behind them were crushed by Dietrichs knights,their morale soured and they ran. Only problem was that there was no where to run,so at the end all but four rebels were killed or captured.
Once the battle was over Dietrich lined up the remaining rebels and spoke to them.
"I am the Duke of these lands and by the law of the Reich i should hang each and everyone of you. But today i think you have seen that there is no point trying to rebel against your true lords. So you men are free now. The rebels were amazed, becouse they were sure that they would be all executed. Before any of them tryed to leave,Dietrich sayed "And one more thing. If i ever see or hear of your filthy faces accused even of stealing an egg. I will not only hang you,but your families and all your relatives i can get my hands on. I hope i have made my self clear."
Butchers bill:
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The Battle of Trent, 1146
Otto von Kassel was riding north with his retinue to meet the infantry contingent of the new Bavarian Household Army. Messengers had been sent ahead, and the meeting of the two forces was to take place near the town of Trent on the Reich's border with Venice. I opposed that amendment, thought Otto, but Maximillian's brainchild will be quite useful.
It felt good to be out of Bologna and in the field. Otto did not want to admit it, but it was a relief to be out of the presence of his fiancee. She is but a child, a child who still believes in the bedtime stories of Roland and Lancelot. She thinks war a game, battle a song and that Knights are paragons of Christian virtue. I do not have the heart to tell her different. Being in her presence made him feel old, worn and strangely lacking in the virtues she thought all Knights had. Elsebeth is the lucky one, she can still believe in those fables, but I have to deal with the world the way it is.
A rider came up beside Otto, disturbing his reverie. "Count Otto", said Rupert von Aachen, his second, "Our scouts report that a large column of Venetian troops are pursuing us!"
"How close are they to us, Rupert? What is their composition?", asked Otto while turning in his saddle to glance south.
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"A mile or two off my lord, there's about 600 men, four units of spears, four units of bowmen."
Otto thought a moment, "No cavalry, eh? They can't catch us until we've met up with our own foot."
Rupert asked, "Should we spur our horses? Pull away?"
"Nein," replied Otto, "We shall stay ahead of them, but we won't pull away. We have to keep them interested. Once we meet our footmen, we'll turn and engage them. Most likely that force is a majority of the garrison of Venice, I don't know of any other sizeable Venetian army in the area. They stripped their city of men to come after me, we should take advantage of that."
Rupert chuckled, "Perhaps the Doge heard of the edict you proposed in the last Diet."
Otto grunted, "Perhaps. If that's the reason, then it has accomplished it's purpose. Angry men do stupid things. Why stab a man, Rupert, when he will throw himself on your knife? Once we've met our footmen, form up for battle."
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Otto formed up his united army in a small wood. Having just travelled from the south, he knew the lay of the land and where the Venetians would be coming from.
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His plan was to move on the Venetians, but keep a wooded hill between his forces and the pavise crossbowmen. The hill, thought Otto, and the rain should negate their superiority in missiles.
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The Venetians seemed surprised to find the Imperial Army, with infantry no less, on their right flank. Otto saw a company of bowmen break off from their main body and head towards his army.
Otto, whose retinue was the only cavalry force he had, was on the left flank. Drawing his sword, he pointed it toward the archers and ordered a charge.
As Otto galloped towards the archers, he thought he saw a glint of metal in the woods in front of him. Otto swore to himself. "Break right! Schnell!"
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Having narrowly avoided impaling his men on a hidden spear-wall, Otto ordered them to charge the Venetian bowmen.
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After scattering the crossbowmen, Otto wheeled his men back, to return the favor to those spearmen.
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Seeing their fellows in trouble, and with their bowmen in no shape to return fire, the remaining spearmen companies advanced to engage. They suffered heavy casualties from Imperial missles.
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Otto returned from routing the first company of spearmen to help break them.
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Otto looked about, Venetians were running in every direction. Spurring his horse after a group of the nearest spearmen he screamed, "Kill them all! Don't let them get back to their damn city!"
One unit of spearmen, however, had not given up hope. Otto and his retainers crashed into them while chasing other routers.
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While swinging at a man on his left, Otto didn't notice another spearman on his right. The Venetian thrust up at Otto. The spearhead glanced off his breastplate, carrying it upwards where it found the gap between Otto's visor and helmet. Otto screamed as the metal sliced open the right side of his face. Bellowing in fury Otto swung his sword around, cleaving the spearman from shoulder to stomach. At that, the final Venetian unit broke and the rout was on.
Breathing heavily in pain, and unable to see out of his right eye, Otto wished he had more cavalry. Soon enough, Otto thought, but my knights are it for now.
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After the battle, a surgeon was seeing to Otto's wounds. Rupert approached as Otto swore at the man. Looking at Otto's face, Rupert drew a sharp breath.
"How is it?", asked Otto, a deep cut, poorly stitched and inflamed, ran from his right temple to his chin, "I want to look my best for the wedding."
"It should be fine my lord," replied Rupert, "It speaks to your bravery."
Otto held up his right gauntlet and caught his reflection in it. Otto grimaced and fresh blood seeped from the wound. After taking a drink from a flask of wine, he spat onto the ground. "Tell me Rupert," Otto asked, "How many disfiguring scars did Roland have?"
The Butcher's Bill:
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Rome, 1146
The Eternal City:
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It was in panic like only a few times before in its storied history. Once Kaiser Heinrich's army had crossed the border into Papal territory, word had spread like wildfire that he was coming straight for the Seat. After all, where else would this cagey old man be going? Surely he wasn't taking his army on an excursion to see the sights of Campania.
The people's fears proved to be right. Some time after the Papal borders had been violated, the city had awoken to find an Imperial Army knocking at its door.
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The outnumbered garrison had quite a task to do even before it set off to do battle with the Kaiser's forces: calm the people. Eventually, Guido de Avena, commander of the garrison, made his way to the city square, got everyone's attention, and made the following announcement:
"QUIET!", he boomed. "God will see us through these hard times. After all, the Kaiser has no siege equipment, and by the time he builds enough to overcome these walls, good Pope Gregory will be here and dispel this monster forever!"
Meanwhile, outside the city gates, Kaiser Heinrich gave his orders.
"Ballistae, forward!"
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The sound of bolts hitting the gate suddenly set the city back into a panic. Guido, fed up, directed his forces to the point of battle. This was not supposed to be happening!
The Kaiser watched the ballistae work with uncontained satisfaction. At long last, the gates broke open and the road to Rome and redemption was clear.
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As the men walked down to road to the city, a spontaneous cheer erupted for their gallant leader. Few knew how long he had brooded and dreamed of this moment, but all knew that he still harbored some resentment towards Pope Gregory.
This is my moment, he thought to himself as he entered the city personally.
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Guido de Avena marshalled his forces in a desperate attack to try to drive the Imperials out and kill the Kaiser, but his opponents' morale was quite high. After all, how many men could say that they took part in the capture of the Eternal City? It was hopeless. This was a day for Heinrich. Guido was quickly swarmed and fell victim to hundreds of spear-thrusts.
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The yellow-and-black steamroller continued to plough the way to the very city square that had been used as a point to calm the people of Rome less than half an hour ago. From there, a horn sounded, and Kaiser Heinrich and his escort charged triumphantly in, cementing the Imperial victory.
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Victorious, Heinrich turned to his men.
"Take whatever you want. This is a day of celebration. However, leave the churches alone."
Cheering, the men proceeded to loot the city.
This is the easy part, the Kaiser thought to himself. What will be difficult is predicting and dealing with Gregory's revenge.
The scribe cursed, why had he been ordered to recheck all these seemingly ancient documents? At least a dozen pieces of parchment always seemed to be under those he had just picked up, what tedious work this was, not to mention he had to re-write them all. Times like these he really hated the job, even though he was paid quite generously
A dusty and fairly heavy bit of parchment caught his eye, neatly curled up bound with his master’s seal it was carefully placed at the bottom of the chest he was going through. Overwhelmed by curiosity he quickly gazed through the room, checking for any unwanted visitors. He didn’t want to get caught opening a seemingly private and important looking note bearing the Knight’s seal, his master was good to his subjects, but he knew he shouldn’t try to push his luck. Rumours concerning the sudden disappearance of his predecessor hadn’t passed him by, and the fact he had been found stabbed in the chest with a pen was telling enough.
Still, his curiosity got the better of him and he quickly broke the seal. Various little drawings were found on it, names and numbers of troops, and even of individual soldiers. Drawings which looked like battle formations were also present, although he had no idea what to make of that. He had never been one of military mind. Still reading on, his eye was caught by what seemed to be some kind of report, of some kind of past battle. As he liked the good war story like everyone else, he read on:
North of Magdenburg, 1140 AD.
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Finally, noble lords, have you granted me permission to lead a force in battle. A minor battle nonetheless, but a battle for the Reich is always of great importance, in this case our supply lines have to be protected, if we are to keep the flow of money and weapons to my dear friend von Saxony intact. These petty so called ‘rebels’ are in this way of this, and they need to die for it.
After assigning the various soldiers to their respective groups the assault began. It was to be a simple procedure; the two companies of cavalry would march to a patch of land to the left of the rebel force, and the main bulk of my modest force, the infantry, would march head on to the rebels, who had prudently decided to camp on a minor hill. Once the infantry had engaged, the cavalry would charge in the back and right flank of the engaged rebels, followed by myself, and my noble bodyguards.
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The infantry men, with the mercanary spearmen leading the force, soon were in sight of the rebels and were ordered to charge in. The mercenary troops charged into the waiting rebel spearmen, and the other two of the infantry companies were commanded to envellop the spearmen, and attack the awaiting rebel milita who were still unengaged where they to move and assist their comrads. The cavalry were ordered to start moving towards the melee, and charge the rebels in the flank. I would assist them, personally.
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It didn’t take long at all to break the rebels, the spearmen and now engaged sword militia were pinned down by the infantry force, and charged in the rear by the cavalry. The broke and fled.
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The enemy captain, in an act of unsuspected bravery, tried to make a last stand, but was promptly cut down by a group of cavalry.
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The fleeing survivors were soon cut down, to the last man. The assault had been performed in a perfect fashion, with the loss of a mere 10 soldiers, mostly of the hired band of spearmen.
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This concludes the report, noble lords.
Yours,
Günther von Kastillien.
The scribe put down the parchment, stood up, and walked out of the room. He was sure his master was going to want to see this, this seemingly lost and forgotten, albeit quite important, piece of parchment. Probably the reason I had to recheck all of these, he thought to himself, leaving a large pile of parchment behind.
:balloon2:
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The two armored knights sat and talked for a long time. Even from a distance, Maximillian Mandorf could see from their body language that they respected, even liked, one another. Several more minutes passed before the clasped arms, turned their horses, and came back to their respective lines. Sir Welf made directly for Mandorf.
"They will fight," he said with a heavy sigh.
Mandorf nodded. "They are good men, I would not have expected otherwise."
It had only been a matter of time. The Kaiser's excommunication had caused unrest all over the Reich. Most had chosen to remain loyal to their feudal Lords, but some, like Sir Rolin, had found that their loyalty lay first with Pope Gregory. Mandorf admired them for their courage and sacrifice. Had he not been Chancellor, perhaps he would have been the rebel on the other side, leading a small rebellion against the Kaiser.
But I am Chancellor and I must protect the Reich, even when we are led by a man like Heinrich. Sir Rolin is fulfilling his duty to God and I am fulfilling mine to the people. Hildegard will damn me for sure.
Mandorf turned his horse to face the Bavarian and Teutonic knights. "Give them a clean death, men. They are good Christians and they do not deserve to suffer." Many men crossed themselves and murmurred quick prayers for forgiveness. Mandorf lowered his visor and led his Bavarians up the hill to the west, as the Teutonic Order advanced their horses into a trot, their lances held high.
It took several minutes to close the range with the enemy. As they approached, a line of crossbowmen ran forward and began loading their quarrels. The Teutons picked up speed, their lances moving to a slight angle. The crossbowmen began to get visibly nervous. Some fumbled and dropped their weapons, while others let loose straight into the groud. Most were able to get off a full volley though, and two of the Teutons were thrown from their horses. As if of one mind, the rest of the couched their lances and pushed their mounts into a full gallop. SOme of the crossbowmen began trying to reload, but most began looking around franticly for a means to escape. There was nowhere to go.
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The impact was extremely brutal. Men were thrown into the air, trampled under foot, and impaled on lance tips. Within seconds, they were all dead.
Less than a minute later, a similar act was occurring to the west. Mandorf led the Bavarians in a downhill charge against the commoners. They were brave and stood their ground, but few had true spears and they had not been trained to fight cavalry.
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Two horses were impaled, but the rest trampled over the pooly trained rebels. Half a dozen survived and ran for the woods. Within 30 seconds, Sir Rolin had lost half his army. Determined to die with honor, he led his knights into the attack against the Chancellor of the Reich. A fierce melee began.
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Sir Rolin's men fought bravely, but they were green and no match for Mandorf's veterans. They fell quickly to the Bavarian swords.
The remaining group of spearmen moved to protect their Lord's rear, but the Teutons had reformed. A full charge hit the spearmen before they could form a proper line.
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...
Sir Welf found Mandorf kneeling in the grass, praying over the body of Sir Rolin. He waited patiently until the Chancellor was done.
Mandorf stood, looking immensely tired. "Let us give them proper Christian burials. There will be no mass grave here. Every man is to have his own peace and his own cross." A few drops of rain began to fall and Mandorf looked upwards. "The Lord weeps."
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The battle of the Alpine Fort, 1154 AD
Henry was glad to be out the Diet and back campaigning in the field. He felt both powerless and useless in the Diet. Powerless because his father had exploited a loophole in the Charter to subvert the will of the Electors and have the Empire excommunicated in the course of an old vendetta against the Pope. Useless because Mandorf, the Chancellor, was intelligent and level-headed enough to do everything that could be done to cope with the resulting crisis. Henry had no role, except perhaps as a stand-in should his father fall in his assault on the Pope at Genoa.
So here Henry was, high in the mountains, west of Milan. A fort stood in front of him, small and squat, commanding the Alpine pass.Under his command was the recently formed Household Army of Swabia. By rights, it should have been commanded by Count Sigismund, but the chivalrous leader’s untimely death at a French assassin’s hand had robbed the men of their beloved leader. It was bitterly ironic - the fort had been built by Sigismund himself and now was being used by the French against men who still mourned him. What is more, Sigismund had done his work too well. The compact wooden fort was solidly made and robustly functional, now crammed with over 700 French soldiers.
Henry had over 1100 in the Swabian army, but no obvious way of leveraging his advantage. The walls and density of the defenders neutralised the potential edge that could be provided by the many German cavalry and crossbowmen. That left only the German infantry to be relied upon. Henry did have at his command the Empire’s first regiment of dismounted Feudal knights, but otherwise his men were an undistinguished lot. Henry wondered if he had made a mistake when governing Staufen in not prioritising building barracks to train armoured spearmen. Still his early emphasis on improving the lands had paid off and his home was now the first and only fortress in the Empire.
The Chancellor had ordered three rams to be prepared. Consequently, Henry divided his army into three groups - south, west and east - each with their own ram, as well as a regiment of crossbows, spears and of knights. Henry himself would lead the eastern force, marching north to the rear gate in the hope of enticing the defenders to leave the safety of the fort - as had happened before at Metz. The dismounted knights would support the first assault on the main southern gate. The eastern attack would breach a wall in the hope of overloading the enemy defence.
Unfortunately, the French could not be persuaded to sally out of the fort. Indeed, they retired to the centre of the fort - out of range of the besiegers’ crossbows. The Germans were able to breach the fort in three spots and to enter unopposed, but that still left much bitter fighting before the defenders could be overwhelmed.
The worst of the struggle was in the south, where a regiment of German spearmen was ordered to engage the regiment of mounted French knights garrisoning the fort.
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A mass of French infantry moved to attack the rear of the Germans and soon the spearmen were in danger of being overwhelmed. Belatedly, the Germans committed their dismount feudal knights to confront the mass of French infantry. In a bitter frontal struggle, the German knights fought well - losing a third of their number but killing three times as many as they lost.
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Nonetheless, the dismounted knights were not able to reach the German spearmen engaging the mounted French knights. The mass of French infantry opposed them was simply too great. Caught between that mass and the fine French knights, the German regiment of spearman was gradually whittled down. Eventually, only a handful of survivors remained. They broke and ran, but not before they had left a great pile of dead horses before them.
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As this first regiment of German spears ran, a second - sent from the north gate by Henry arrived to finish off the French knights and their unfortunate Captain.
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Henry himself led his escort through the north gate to support the third breach of the fort - in the east. The French had sent a regiment of spearmen to try to stem the breach, so Henry ordered his bodyguard to attack the rear of this force. Unable to charge, it was a risky tactic to use cavalry against spears, but the alternative was to allow the battle to degenerate into frontal attrition. The armour and experience of the German royal knights gradually told.
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The remainder of the German cavalry, Henry managed to direct into the centre of the fort. The French had moved all of their melee capable infantry out of the centre, into the south or east. Only two regiments of French archers remained. Soon the centre fell, as did the spearmen fighting Henry, leaving only the mass of the French infantry still locked in combat to the south with the dismounted knights. Leaderless, without a central refuge and with a couple of hundred cavalry to their rear, the French infantry soon lost heart.
Henry decided to halt the slaughter - the French had nowhere to run and the new Household Army of Swabia would need every man it could get if it were to continue to avenge Sigismund. Henry ordered the prisoners and wounded well looked after, then road back to meet with the Chancellor who was en route to Milan. Under the principle of a rotating command Henry had outlined for the Swabian army, Count von Salza would be the one to lead it onwards to Rheims. Quite what task the Chancellor would assign Henry, the Prinz was unsure. But in truth, his mind was not on that question. It was focussed to the south, on Genoa, where Henry’s father had trapped the Holy Father and was preparing to kill him without mercy.
The butcher’s bill:
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Placeholder for Battle on Reinhards crossing.
Fall of Zagreb
"Well, if you're not going to join the battle, then let me at least explain to you what I'm planning to do, so that you get it right. This will be our first victory over the Venetian foe that has troubled us for so long. It will be an important victory and I want you to give it the glory it deserves!"
A young blonde scribe was sitting across from Leopold in his tent. The young man had approached him earlier in Vienna and told him that he was a biographer and planned to write down the story of Leopold's live. Leopold had been flattered by the offer at first and taken the young man with him. How he was to write everything that happened while refusing to join him on the battlefield was beyond him though. A little frustrated he leaned over the maps panned out in front of him and beckoned the biographer closer.
"Look, we have been encamped here in the East of the city for the past months. We outnumber the garrison under Gerrardo Selvo, here. There is another small Venetian Militia force somewhere to the South of the city. So far our troops were able to keep them from joining their comrades, but once we attack they'll surely attempt to attack our backs. It could get nasty if we don't breach the walls quick enough and are caught between the two forces. We have a superiority in training and men, but that's no excuse for wasting lives. If we want to move on Venice the next season we have to make sure that the taking of Zagreb will be nice and clean."
He looks at the Scribe who has been nodding and scribbling down notes for the whole time. Leopold wasn't entirely sure the man understood what he was telling him though.
"What we do to minimize our losses is a ruse my friend. Gerrardo Selvo is expecting us to attack from the East, where our main army is camped. The South gate he believes covered by his reinforcements outside the city. Tonight, under the cover of darkness I will move the majority of my army to the South gate, including a ram, and leave a small force in the East. Once we succeed in bypassing the reinforcements I will give the signal and the remaining forces in the East will light their torches, advance on the city and make a clamour that Selvo will fear an attack. They won't attack though just bind the defender's forces while I move our main forces up the South gate, knock it down and enter the city unopposed. That's the plan, that's how it will pan out."
And so it did. The reinforcements did not detect the Austrian movement and were too far away and unprepared to take a role in the oncoming fight.
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The Venetian Militia had manned the Eastern walls, where Austrian Mercenary Spearmen and one unit of Sergeant Spearmen had taken up ladders in feigned preparation of an assault.
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In the South Leopold had led his army up to the South gate unopposed and now ordered the ram to advance. Soon it hat reached the gate and began its work on the woodwork. This had not gone entirely unnoticed by Gerrardo Selvo who left the Town square with his retinue to repel the invaders. Once the gate was breached Selvo immediately charged the Spearmen that had taken the ram up to the gates.
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The Spearmen pushed forward and were able to enter the city, but Selvos bodyguard extracted a heavy toll.
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Meanwhile news of the breached South gate had reached the defenders on the Eastern wall and the first regiment began hurrying South.
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The situation at the gate became worse as more and more Spearmen fell to Selvos bodyguard. Leopold ordered his Mailed Knights to charge into the melee and push Selvo back. With the punch of the Knights behind them the Spearmen were able to turn the tide. Gerrardo Selvo fell to a German spear and his retinue soon fled. The road to the Town Square was open and Leopold urged his cavalry forward to take possession.
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Once Leopold had taken up position in the Town square the remaining Militia left the Eastern wall to attack the intruders. With the Eastern wall clear the Spearman began scaling the walls and soon the Eastern wall was under Imperial control.
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The Militia sent to the South were quickly dispatched by the Austrian infantry and now also made their way back to the Town square, where the other Militia unit had locked in combat with the Austrian cavalry.
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Although their general had died the Venetians put up a fierce fight in their town square and it took a long struggle to crush the last resistance. The fleeing troops from the South gate were able to reform, before they were crushed by Leopold's cavalry in their back.
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Finally the last pockets of resistance were crushed and the city was under Imperial control. Not many Venetians had been taken alive, many of them preferring to fight to the last man. Three nobles of Gerrardo Selvo's bodyguard were under them and Leopold advanced on the men.
"This has only been the first step in righting the wrongs your people have caused Austria and the Reich! Many more victories will follow and many more of your nobility will kneel before me. I only ask one thing of you: Lie down and ask forgiveness for the sins you have committed against my countrymen and I will forgive you!"
"NEVER! We will.." a young heated nobleman cried out before he could be silenced by one of his older comrades "My lord he meant no disrespect, of course we.." But Leopold had already turned away from the men.
"You know what to do Rainer!" he nodded at his battle-hardened companion, who ordered the remaining prisoners to be quartered and executed to serve as an example against disobedience. Smiling to himself the Duke of Austria surveyed the carnage. 'I wonder what the biographer will make of this'
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It was a clear victory and once the reinforcements realized that the city had switched sides during the last night they fled to the countryside.
The icy wind blew mercilessly into Günther’s face as he rode to the field on which he had deployed his force. A host of 1400 German troops had assembled, mostly German spearmen and a handful of knights and peasant archers. They were waiting, waiting for him, his orders, and the enemy. They knew their situation, were they to survive this day of hard fighting they’d probably be in Thorn living the good life by the end of the day. This fact was the only thing keeping them standing in the icy gale blowing from the north.
About 500 yards to the north, situated on top of a small hill, an array of Polish nobleman were awaiting the coming assault. They had nowhere to run, and had to fight. Their sole comfort being the fact that the Polish nobleman Boleslaw Herman would be arriving soon, bringing his own bodyguard and a few well armed spearmen to the fight at hand. The Polish had no way to go, they’d either be in Thorn by the night, or be dead, knowing their homes would be in German hands. Something they’d die for just to prevent.
Günther was riding hard now, eager to get this thing started. He could, and his soldiers as well, already see the Polish nobleman arriving. Best get this started before he get’s into a position to help the Polish noble cavalry. Their javelins were more than enough to worry about, and the extra heavy cavalry the nobleman would bring along wouldn’t lessen the troubles the battle would bring.
Günther was about to order the troops to move forward when a lone messenger called out for him:
Sir, I have a message I was bidden to bring to you before the battle commenced. It seems I’m just in time then. He finished glancing at the enemy horsemen on top of their hill.
Günther, slightly annoyed, took the thickly rolled piece of parchment, broke the familiar seal and unrolled the parchment.
He immediately recognized the efficient and neat handwriting, he knew where the message came from before even having to check the signature at the end of it.
Günther scanned the message. Surprised by its content, he read it again. And again.
‘This can’t be’ Günther muttered to himself ‘Surely not, why would he wish this in God’s name?’ He was silent for a moment.
He gave you this directly then ? He nodded at the parchment, and then at the messenger.
Yes lord, he did, he most certainly did. The messenger quickly replied.
Günther remained silent, then ordered one of his servants to dispose of the letter. It was best if no one else saw it’s contents, he thought.
A mere moment or two the previous thoughts had been prevalent, before the thought of the battle at hand come to mind again.
The battle begun
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The peasant archers were commanded to proceed into fireing range, carefully screened by the spearmen and cavalry. However, the Polish, realising their danger, quickly moved twenty paces back, attempting move out of range of the archers. It worked, the peasants armed with bows quickly upped the pace, becoming more and more seperated from the more disciplined spearmen supposed to screen and protect them.
The Polish noble horsemen immediately seized their chance, and ran forward. Attempting to catch the archers off guard. Günther, obviously annoyed by the peasant’s lack of discipline, immediately ordered his cavalry to charge the enemy horsemen head on. And ordered the spearmen to follow as fast as the could, whilst watching out for the enemy re-enforcements coming from the right.
The German cavalry quickly engaged the Polish horses, and a fierce battle ensued.
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Both sides took casualties, although the German knights significantly less. Helped by the higher quality of shields and armor, and by a fierce charge by their very general himself.
Not long after the initial fight, the first batch of Poles were routing. This wasn’t as promising as it seemed, as the enemy re enforcements had decided to throw themselves into the fray. They were met head on by the German spearmen.
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The fighting was brutal, and the feared enemy bodyguard took a heavy toll on the spearmen. Even managing to break one of the companies, before help arrived in the form of German Knights and bodygaurds.
The final stage of the battle had begun, and Günther had even ordered his archers to stop shooting and join in the melee taking place around the enemy nobleman’s bodyguard.
Not long after the order, the archers attacked the nobleman’s horses in the back. The enemy general was now completely surrounded. And fighting to death. A good thing, or was it ?
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A few Polish bodyguard did manage to break through the circle, making a run for it. Fanatically persued by the more lightly armoured German knights. Needless to say, he didn’t make it far. He was quickly hunt down and captured.
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The battle was won, the enemy general captured, enemy captain slain, and a score of the Polish cowards were now caught. It did come costly, and the Polish had sold their hides dearly.
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That night in his command tent, Günther finally laid down his stylus. He had completed his letter, and beckoned the messenger, the same one as earlier that day, to take it. Stone faced he handed it over.
Tell your master they have been released, the entire lot of them. Günther spoke to the leaving messenger.
I will Sir, I will. The messenger replied, eager to get out of this tent.
You make sure you do, a little over 260 good men gave their lives for it, and the city isn’t even theirs. Günther finished.
The messenger listened quietly, avoiding the general’s gaze, then quickly turned around and left the tent and went on his way.
Groaning, Günther picked up his stylus again. He had to write his battle report, the Diet would want to know how the battle had gone
Sometimes that man's quite the enigma, Günther thought of the messenger's master. Quite the mystery indeed.
:balloon2:
The Diary of Kaiser Heinrich
Genoa, 1154
"Sir? The men are waiting."
I shook myself awake. Captain Ludwig, my second in command and close personal friend, was standing by my bed, uniform already on, prepared for battle. Outside my tent, I could already hear the unmistakable noise of men on the move, gathering what they need, ready to fight. How could I have overslept on this day, the most important of them?
In years past, I would have frantically jumped out of bed and rushed to put on my armour. However, in years past I also would not have arisen so late in the day. I found that the best I could do was a slow, agonizing series of moves to prepare myself which nearly killed my knees. Ludwig, also getting up there in his years but in better shape than me, stood by with a look of sympathy on his face. He knew that he would be facing this eventually, but knew better than to say anything.
Finally, when I was dressed appropriately and had scarfed down a quick meal, I asked Ludwig a question.
"How long have the men been waiting?"
Ludwig looked like he didn't want to answer, but I put a look on my face that made it clear that I wanted to know. Finally, he mumbled "about an hour and a half, Mein Kaiser."
An hour and a half. For me, a man who has lived his entire life based on a schedule, both politically and militarily, this was extemely discomforting. I sighed.
"Sir? Are you feeling all right? We can always fight the battle tomorrow."
I shook my head. "No Ludwig," I said sadly, "We must fight it today, now. Everything is in place. If we wait then my condition will only worsen. The only way it can improve is if we are victorious. Gregory is doing this to me, either through God or Satan. One way or another, it ends here, today. For the health and souls of us all, it must be today."
"Well then, Mein Kaiser, let us get going before we take up too much of the day."
"Not yet," I said with a touch of finality, "First we must pray." Together we knelt down, in our battle armour, facing the figure of Christ on the crucifix in my opulent tent.
"O my God, I am heartily sorry
for having offended Thee,
and I detest all my sins,
because I dread the loss of Heaven
and the pains of Hell,
but most of all because they
offend Thee, my God,
Who art all-good and deserving
of all my love.
I firmly resolve, with the help
of Thy grace to confess my sins,
to do penance
and to amend my life. Amen."
Finally we exited the tent, mounted our horses, and made our way to the battle line, which was still in magnificent order despite the two commanding officers not being present. I looked them over for a minute, admiring these men who served under me. They were loyal, and they were ready to do what their Kaiser asked them. They believed I was right and would follow me to the gates of Hell. Ironically enough, that is where some members of the Diet wished I would go.
So it ends here, I thought. How appropriate. The city that stood before me, Genoa, had been so intertwined with my long conflict with the Papacy that it had almost as much significance as Rome itself. Genoa was quite close to Canossa, that infamous castle that I walked to and stood outside for three days, wearing nothing but a hairshirt, begging for forgiveness from Pope Gregory. Since the quest to redeem myself began, Genoa had been a large military obstacle, almost ending my long journey in life thanks to a few dedicated Milanese spearmen. And of course, Genoa had been the key to legally declaring war on Rome. I had gifted it to the new Duke of Bavaria Otto von Kassel, who had promptly exercised his Ducal powers and declared that the Pope's army was unlawfully trespassing on his land. War followed, and now the man that represented all of my failures in life held the city.
For a little while longer, anyway.
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The official commander of the Papal Army was one Falcone Olearius, but everyone present knew that the true objective was the Pope, and most likely he would have a larger escort of heavy cavalry than Falcone.
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"The hour of judgment has arrived, Hildebrand!", I shouted aloud, more to the men that to the Pope. "By the end of this day the Investiture Controversy will be over and we shall see whom God truly favors! I hope that you have had Last Rites prepared to make your passing easier!"
I doubted that last part, of course. It was starting to become common knowledge that the Pope was actually quite irreligious.
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However, it didn't really matter what his exact beliefs were. He had still managed to put most of Catholic Europe under his spell, claiming divine right to appoint all church officials, not to mention thoroughly humiliating me and putting the Reich in mortal danger. For years I had been chasing him, plotting against him, even meeting with him once. When the moment to strike finally arrived, he had poisoned the Diet so much that one Elector had threatened to kill me!
But now, he was here. And he was trapped. This day would right all wrongs once and for all.
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I was not alone in this fight. My faithful Duke of Bavaria, Otto von Kassel, and his subject Gerhard Steffin had brought the entire Bavarian Household Army and were assaulting the eastern side of the city. I hoped that their intervention would be decisive. I also hoped that Otto would survive this encounter. He had helped me through much of this, and I knew how much this crisis was harming him internally.
The plan for this battle would be simple - divide and overwhelm. Pope Gregory had with him a frighteningly large amount of Italian Militia and pavise crossbowmen, but if that number were to be split in half then their effect would be quite a bit less devastating.
Just as I was about to begin the assault, a courier approached me from the east.
"Mein Kaiser, Duke Otto's men are in position. Shall we begin the assault?"
I shook my head. "Not yet," I told the young man, "We must be methodical in this action. Tell him to wait for me to wheel the ballistae around. When they finish breaking down the eastern gate, tell him to signal me. We go in together."
The young man nodded and took off back to the eastern position. I sighed. He was full of youth, of vitality. Evidently this was his first action. By tomorrow he would be a hardened man, perhaps incapable of any other emotion other than weariness.
This has to end.
Most of the soldiers, myself included, were lost in our thoughts during the long, slow wait for the ballistae to break down the southern gate, move to the east, and break that gate down too. Mostly, I think, we just wanted something to happen. Death would be a welcome change from this endless waiting, this eternal suffering. Either way, salvation awaited every soldier present wearing Imperial colors, be it earthly or posthumously.
Finally, after what seemed like several days, a faint crack could be heard to the east. About a minute later, I spotted that same courier from earlier heading my way. I waved, indicating I knew what had happened, and turned to my men.
The moment, at last, had arrived.
I pointed to one set of ladders and one siege tower, and indicated that they were to go forward. As harsh as this was, their job was to simply keep the men on the walls busy, to buy time, to die while the bulk of the force made their way into the streets where the confused Papal infantry was still shifting. The walls did not matter. The city and the Pope did. I didn't want to watch as the men scaled the ladders, completing their final task in life, but I couldn't help it. These soldiers were supremely loyal, and were willingly about to die for me. Was it truly for me, though? Was there some higher cause that prompted them to be the shock troops, the side effort?
In the end, their cause, just like their objective, did not matter. They fought and died well.
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Meanwhile, the time for the main push had begun.
"All units TO THE GATE!!!"
For the first time that day, all of my men crossed into crossbow range, but thanks to them busy fighting off two regiments on the walls no harm befell the main body of troops making their way to the gate. Instead, they were met by a fierce, albeit numerically miniscule resistance. The Italians, realizing that they would soon be flanked and annihilated if they continued to fight immediately past the gates, retired slightly until they were on a narrow side street, thus nullifying our numerical advantage. The push to the center of the city would be a long, slow, brutal affair.
Unfortunately, I could do little more than watch as the men did their work and shout the occasional encouragement. I could only imagine that the sight for the infantry in the front lines was a wretched one, with reeking blood and corpses everywhere, and the feeling of sheer exhaustion, yet at the same time the knowledge that, if you rested, you would surely die.
Finally, several minutes and only a few feet later, I couldn't take it anymore. Sounds of battle were being heard to the eastern end of the city. I motioned to the escort to move. We would ride and view the situation personally.
On the way there, I took a look around me. Most of the buildings were boarded up, although there were some people looking out the windows at the carnage, some of them transfixed with a look that wasn't quite terrified, wasn't quite intrigued.
Finally, we arrived at the eastern gate, where a fierce melee was taking place, although it was mostly between cavalry, as the infantry had already been eradicated. Our men joined the fight, rolling over the unsuspecting Papal Mailed Knights. A second later, I saw Otto von Kassel, helmet off, waving me over. I sidled over to him.
"Heil, Mein Kaiser," he said grinning, "And thanks for the help! How goes the fight to the south?"
"Slow," I shouted, because another battle horn had just sounded, "But we're making progress!"
"Incoming!"
We all turned to the streets leading to the city square. For a second, I thought that the Pope himself had joined the battle, but it only turned out to be Falcone Olearius, his escort, and some rallied cavalry. All of our escorts (mine, Otto's, and Gerhard Steffin's), along with a hodgepodge of knights that were still alive, countercharged the Papal cavalry, hacking our way through until only Falcone and a few others remained. They fled back to the city square, leaving the Imperial forces alone again.
"They'll be back. Let's rest for a moment," I ordered the men. After sizing up the condition of my escort's horses, I signalled a man to ride back to the south and give a summary of what was going on over there. There was a series of tense minutes that gave absolutely no relaxation to the men. Oh well, at least the horses were catching their breaths.
We could see the center square from our point of view. Many of the men were watching it intently; hoping to observe Papal infantry running there and rallying. They would not be denied, and a small cheer went up among the men.
This meant nothing, however. The last time we were on the cusp of victory at Genoa, I had nearly died.
Another couple of minutes passed. The rider I had sent to report on the western developments came trotting back, horse clearly in bad shape.
"Mein Kaiser," he huffed, out of breath, "Your men have beaten back the Papal infantry. They were about to give chase but then the men on the walls came down and so our infantry was forced to turn around and engage them. Our infantry's backs are to the city square and are thus extemely vulnerable to a cavalry charge."
There was a pause at this. I believe that Gerhard's loud swearing expressed all of our emotions. Gregory's position was still not accounted for, and 46 heavy cavalry slamming into our men's rear would have quite an impact. We had little time to debate this latest turn of events, however, as Falcone, the remainder of his escort, and the Papal infantry that had just ran into the square came charging back.
"Forward, and this time don't stop!"
A few of our men went down, but more of theirs did. I received a blow to my right knee, and all of the pain from this morning came rushing back. Grimacing, I signalled to charge to the city square, where only Falcone had survived.
The swiftest of our men ran him down and ended his life just as he had reached the square.
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As the rest of us made our way into the square, there was a brief moment of calm, and then a collective gasp. Coming our way, from the opposite direction, was the Papal Escort. Gregory had declined to strike our infantry, giving up the possibility of a general rout and leaving us stranded. Instead, he had opted to charge straight for us.
Straight for me.
There was no holy radiance coming from this man; no Light of God reflecting off of his uniform. But there was still a great power emanating from the man who called himself Pope. His sword raised in the air, ghostly white horse, and banner he carried all held our men in a stupor for some amount of time. We would all die watching him kill us, in awe.
I was probably the last one to snap out of it, truth be told. I attribute it to my age. All around me I watched as the three escorts of the Reich battled Gregory's cavalry.
The young courier that Otto had sent to me before the battle began was one of the first to fall. He and his horse were still full of reckless abandon and had simply charged too far in. I caught a glimpse of his face, de-helmeted, before he fell. It had a shocked expression of one who clearly did not expect to die, yet was about to do just that. His eyes were already starting to glaze over.
Another second went by. More men went down. The tide of battle was moving me away from my own escort and closer to that of Otto's and Gerhard's. I would have accepted this turn of events and followed the flow, but at that very moment, I saw Gregory angling his horse straight for me. By the time he would reach me, I would not have been turned around and ready to face him. Muttering a quick final prayer, I screwed my eyes shut and braced for the killing blow.
...it never came. I opened my eyes and looked to see what was happening. Captain Ludwig, vigilant Captain Ludwig, who had proposed that devastating cavalry charge in this same city so long ago, had seen what was about to happen and moved to block the Pope. I could only watch as my friend and second did battle with my arch-enemy.
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It seemed very fast. Gregory recovered from the block rather quickly and slashed at Ludwig's arm. Ludwig dropped his sword in shock, and then the killing blow had hit. I saw my friend go down, his blood dirtying the Pope's uniform.
I didn't scream Ludwig's name. I couldn't. I was unable to do anything other than look at the man who had killed my friend. I did not comprehend that the Pope had just violated one of the Ten Commandments, or that he had done so at the expense of one so close to me, or that he was now continuing his charge for me. I was simply staring blankly as he did the latter.
I'm not sure what happened next. I felt a vague movement under me. My horse was doing what I was unable to. I only continued to watch as the Pope re-angled his charge based on this movement, which brought him in more dangerous territory. The next thing I knew, he simply fell, speared by an anonymous lance.
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Otto, who had seen it happen, rode over to the Pope's body and removed the man's helmet. His eyes were open and he was still breathing. However, Otto ignored this, raising the helmet for all to see.
"The Pope is dead," he cried. "There is nothing to fight for!"
Gregory's escort fought on, although with little intensity. They were quickly dispatched, and once again we had full control of the city square. Otto rode down, alone, to the street where our infantry were bravely putting up a losing fight against the Papal forces. Once again, he held the helmet high.
"The Pope is dead! Gregory is no more! Lay down your arms! This battle is over!"
From what I could see of the Papal infantry, there was a great gasp, and then a grim realization that what Otto said what was correct. The sounds of spear and sword hitting shield ceased. Some men screamed in Italian, others in Latin. Some men cried "NO!" A few just sat down, infinitely weary and disgusted. It was clear that all the fight had been taken out of these men. The battle, for all intensive purposes, was over.
Otto, who had seen Gregory's fall but not Ludwig's death, rode back to me with a look of triumph on his face. Gerhard, too, came to my side, uniform scratched and dirtied. He would be knighted for his bravery.
"Mein Kaiser," Otto said, "Let me congratulate you today, on this day of your ultimate victory."
I nodded, but said nothing. Victory had never felt so horrible. So many people were not around to share it. The brave infantrymen that I had ordered to die in the opening stages of the battle. That young courier who had so much to live for. And of course, my good friend and advisor, Captain Ludwig.
That night I dined with the nobility, toasting the defeat of Gregory and victorious assault of the city, feeling absolutely no emotion. Gregory was still alive, being held prisoner in the city's palace. Tomorrow I would deal with him, as well as inform the necessary people of what had transpired here. But that night, I simply went to sleep, my knees crying out in pain as I dressed for the night. And this time, I had no one to assist me, no one to stand by.
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The Third Battle of Genoa 1154
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Looking up at the Milanese forces perched on a hill, Otto swore loudly into the morning air. Beside him Gerhard Steffen, knighted by the Emperor himself after the assault on Genoa, laughed at his Duke's profanity.
"You won't be laughing, Gerhard, when we have to dig those bastards out of that hilltop", Otto said turning to his vassal, "There's only one damn path up that hill, unless we flank out, and they've got bowmen and spears."
"Do you think they'll stay up there mein Duke?", responded Gerhard, "We're between them and their ships, and they've been living off the land for years. Starvation has driven them this close to Genoa. I doubt they will stop now, so close to rescue."
Otto grunted and fingered the scar on his face while looking up the hill, "You might be right, still we have to prepare for the worst. I'm going to deploy the crossbowmen ahead of the spears. You'll take the cavalry and keep it in column on the left flank. If they come down flank them. If they stay up, circle around the hill and catch them from behind. Remember, you're job is to disrupt them, force their hand, not to get into a pitched battle. Heroics are for dead men. Understand?"
Gerhard nodded and went to gather his forces. Otto watched him go. Was I ever that young and brash? He's a knight, but let's see if he can lead a large force of men. If he can, I can use him. Someone will have to defend Bavaria when I take the Cross.
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The men deployed as Otto ordered. Gerhard began to advance his cavalry. Otto saw motion on the hilltop, I'll be damned, the boy was right.
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By that point, Gerhard had deployed his cavalry in a line perpendicular to the Imperial foot. As missiles began to fly between both armies, Otto heard Gerhard's bugler blow a note. The cavalry charged.
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The bowmen were crushed and dispersed. Yet the cavalry stayed to butcher more. Bindello Columbana with his retainers, Frankish Knights and spearmen quickly advanced to catch the Imperial horse. Gerhard was cutting it very close.
"Get out of there you fool!", yelled Otto, as if his commands could actually be heard.
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As if on cue, Gerhard turned his horsemen around and galloped back to Imperial lines, just ahead of the pursuit. The mercenary Frankish knights broke off and turned to charge the crossbowmen on the right of Otto's line.
"Spearmen forward!", Otto yelled. This command was heard.
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The knights struck the spearmen with a terrible impact. Men were thrown into the air or were trod under shodded hoof. The charge was halted though by the rear ranks. The units from the left and right moved in, stabbing at the horsemen from the flanks. The knights were engulfed, and paid with their lives for charging impetuosly without orders. A few galloped away under a heavy barrage of missiles, leaving their fallen comrades behind.
At this point, trying to take advantage of the disarray of the Imperial line, Columbana charged with his men at the center. This time the spearmen had enough warning to brace themselves, and the assault floundered. Sensing the crisis point approaching, Otto drew his sword.
"Break them!", Otto scream as his retainers galloped into the fray.
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While this was happening, on the left a unit of Italian spearmen had pursued Gerhard's horsemen as they made their way back to the line. Gerhard expertly swung his cavalry behind the protection of his own spearmen. The Italians changed course to engage the foot, and that is when the young knight pivoted his horsemen and bore into their flanks. Panic quickly spread among the Milanese foot.
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Back in the center, the weight of Imperial numbers began to tell. Otto's bodyguard and spearmen wore down Bindello Columbana's escort until he was struck down.
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With their leader dead and their infantry in disarray, the Milanese broke. Having given up the advantage of height and a narrow path, they had to overcome those same obstacles as they tried to escape.
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Otto, his men and the unit of mailed knights pursued the spearmen. The mounted sergeants galloped after the remnants of Columbana's escort. Gerhard Steffen and his retainers rode among the Milanese crossbowmen and gathered a grim harvest. Of the 653 men who had deployed on that hill, only 26 escaped.
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The prisoners were gathered and bound. Sheathing his sword, Otto dismounted and approached the three men who had survived from Columbana's escort. They were haggard and looked half starved. The oldest stared up at him defiantly and spoke, "Von Kassel, you figlio di puttana. One day we'll get Milan and Genoa back. This isn't over!"
Drawing Elsebeth's dagger, Otto toyed with it in his hands while looking down at his captive, "That day may come Signore, but it is not today. You are defeated. You should have accepted the Chancellor's peace offer."
Otto wanted to kill this man, make an example of him and these prisoners. Yet Otto remembered a phrase he had written long ago, 'Some wars are waged on the battlefield and others in the bedroom'. I have won here, but I have lost the other. I will not take up the Cross with more blood on my hands.
Otto reached down and with his wife's blade cut the man's fetters.
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"You and your men are free. Go to your ships and return to your islands. It would be wise if you urged your Duke to make peace, for if I see you on the mainland again, you will be destroyed."
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Returning to Genoa with his army, Otto spoke to Gerhard, "A good day for you, young man, 230 Milanese killed and captured by you and your retainers. Between this and the last battle, you've proven yourself. How would you like to have an army of your own?"
The Butcher's Bill
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Rome, 1160
Prinz Henry, on his way to the Diet for the final day of deliberations, passed by the city's barracks and noticed a strange sight: They were empty.
The Prinz immediately grew nervous at this sight. The entire garrison, over 500 men, should have been out drilling by now. Henry changed course and went inside the barracks, hoping to find someone that was behind. He was not disappointed. A crossbowman with a broken leg was sitting calmly, not at all surprised by the Prinz's entrance.
"Soldier, where are your comrades?"
The crossbowman looked lazily up at the Prinz upon this question. "Why, they've gone to the river northwest of the city."
Henry's blood turned cold. Pope Accattus and his army was currently occupying the bridge on that very river. "On whose orders?!", he demanded, even though he already knew the answer.
"Your father's, Mein Prinz."
Curses. The old man was at it again.
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The barracks, several hours earlier
Kaiser Heinrich entered the sleeping quarters, making an awful racket by clanging his sword onto a random shield. The poor soldiers awoke to find their Emperor already fully-dressed for battle.
"Arise, soldiers of the Reich! We have some marching to do this morning!"
Some soldiers mumbled (under their breaths of course) that it would not yet be light out for another several hours, but they obediently got out of bed and suited for battle. This would be a brutal nighttime march a few miles outside of the city. Heinrich talked to the soldiers all along the way, describing their target and why they were fighting.
"Pope Accattus has gone behind my back and threatened the entire Reich, good soldiers. He has threatened our capital and he has threatened my life, and now the Diet is about to make sure that his reign is allowed to proceed without consequence. I cannot let this happen, and you are all going to help assert Imperial authority once more!"
Finally, they had arrived at their target - The Tiber Bridge. On the other side was Pope Accattus and his army, completely oblivious to the threat that faced them. While the Imperial Army was preparing for an assault, it seemed as if a shockwave had passed through the Papal camp, followed by frenzied movement to prepare.
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Finally, the Papal forces were ready, just in the nick of time. Their largely mercenary army had no infantry, only crossbowmen and cavalry, and therefore could not make good use of the classic bridge defense that had served many so well.
Instead, upon viewing a massed infantry charge across the bridge, the Pope ordered his Frankish Knights in to break up the disorganized infantry. Unfortunately, in the narrow confines of the bridge, numbers trumped skill and power.
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Next, desperate to break this infantry charge, Pope Accattus threw his own escort into the fray. Immediately he realized the folly that he just committed, but it was too late to turn back. The old Pope desperately fought on, to no avail.
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Eventually, along with the rest of his escort, he fell, but at least his death was more honorable than that of his predecessor.
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After the Pope's death, the remaining Papal forces (the majority of the crossbowmen and a handful of cavalry) routed and were chased down by Heinrich's escort.
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Once the clean-up operation had been completed, Heinrich turned his men around and marched them straight back to Rome where they would catch up on his sleep. He, however, was preparing to face an irate Diet, although this didn't faze him much as there had been plenty of practice recently.
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Fall of Venice, 1166
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Leopold felt strangely calm as he surveyed the large city sprawled before him. Thin plumes of smoke rose from the chimneys towards the moon that was standing fully visible over the city. It should have filled Leopold with joy, or at least excited him. Finally the captial of his enemy was within his grasp. Soon Imperial banners would fly from every tower in the city and all the riches, all the trade of Venice would belong to him, to the House of Austria. Months ago the mere thought at this prospect had filled him with glee. But since he had taken up the office of Chancellor things had changed. He had more in mind now, more to care about than just Austria. He was responsible for the Holy Roman Empire, and it was beset on all sides by enemies. The taking of Venice, while important, was just another step that had to be taken, to advance the Empire, an important step, with Zagreb under siege and the French and Poles readying for attacks. Not to mention the Portugese and English that had appeared in the north.
He was ready to take this step, calm and composed, one step after the other.
Leopold raised his hand and the columns under his command started the advance. As with Zagreb, Leopold had used the cover of darkness to close in on the defenders. His main army with him, while his Mercenaries would attack the main gate. His ruse did not play out as smooth as in Zagreb though. The gate in front of him was manned and ready to repell the attackers. Slowly the ram moved forward while his Sergeant Spearmen advanced with their ladders, ready to scale the walls.
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It did not take long for his men to close in, taking the arrows sent at them from the towers.
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The defenders were staying behind in the street and luckily weren't occupying the walls. Soon the ram had reached the gate and the wood gave way under the hammering.
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Distant sounds of fighting told him that the Mercenary Spearmen with their siege towers had started their attack as well and were closing in on the walls.
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The Pavise Crossbowmen were retreating at the main gate as well, letting the Mercenaries take the walls without resistance. Within minutes both defensive positions had been overrun by the Austrian Household Army.
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Seeing that the gates were lost the Italian Militia sent to repell Leopold were making a hasty retreat. Immediatelly Mailed Knights and Leopolds own bodyguard rode forward to slaughter the Militia in the street, before they could dig in in the Town Square.
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Soon all defenders were overtaken and Leopold and his men could now set up their men in the town square of Venice.
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The remaining Venetian garrison, commanded by their captain were putting up a fierce fight at the main gate, though. The Mercenary Spearmen were only slowly able to subdue them.
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Finally their commander was slain!
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With their commander dead on the field and the Town Square held by Imperial troops the rest of the garrison surrendered. Venice had been taken!
At last, standing in the Town Square and surveying his troops, Leopold felt a small jolt of joy and happily gave the order for his men to sack and plunder through the rest of the night. Let them enjoy themselves, while Leopolds mind had already turned to more important matters, concerning the defense of the Reich.
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Rome, 1168
It was a little after 1:00 AM in the Eternal City. However, despite the ungodly hour, there was still movement going on in the Reich's capital. Kaiser Heinrich, fed up with his prize being under siege and unwilling to die until Rome was free, had roused his soldiers up for a nighttime sally.
The target of Heinrich's aggressions was once again the Papacy. The Kaiser's latest approved choice was Pope Andreas of Denmark. He had been complacent - for a while. However, recently he had made the mistake of besieging Rome. The time had come, as Otto von Kassel would put it, to exercise his veto against Andreas.
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During the march to the northern gate, where the action would take place, an unnamed soldier fell into line with Heinrich's escort, dressed appropriately for the occasion. After seeing the Kaiser stare at him for a minute, this new soldier removed his helmet and his true visage was shown. It was none other than the Fifth Elector of Swabia, one of Heinrich's few remaining allies in the Diet.
Before the Kaiser could say anything, the Swabian Elector spoke.
"With all due respect, Mein Kaiser, you're 62 years old. Someone needs to watch your back."
Heinrich chuckled. "I've gotten into my share of engagements over the years, good sir. Which is more than I can say for this priest that is waiting for me (who also happens to be 62 by the way)."
The discussion turned slightly more serious as the ride continued.
"62 is quite an age to live to in these times. You've survived rebellions, wars, battles, disease, and assassination attempts. Aren't you getting tired?"
"Very," sighed the Kaiser. "The truth is, I think I have willed myself to live for these past couple of years. I do not fear the judgement that awaits me after death. I fear the fact that my plans will not go to fruition if I am not around to see them done. I fear for the Reich's future."
There was a respectful silence as the host marched by a church.
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Then, the Kaiser continued. "But what about you? Why do you risk death when it is not necessary? You realize that should you fall this morning, your position in the Diet will go to Prinz Henry's darling child Hans."
"Hans is replacing me anyway. Why would the Prinz keep me, an ally of his enemy, in the Diet when he can throw his own son in my place?"
"Well, sons don't necessarily mean anything. Look at my two sons and their elevated opinion of me."
The two shared a laugh, but it was short-lived. The host had just passed by the statue of Marcellus Aemilius, signalling that the northern gate, and thus the battle was near. The Kaiser began deploying his men.
"Crossbows on the walls! Everyone else behind the gate! We lure them in!"
"Mein Kaiser?" said a crossbowman who had just climbed the walls. "They're pulling back out of range."
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"No point in seeing if they'll take the bait," Heinrich said to himself. "Spears! Catch 'em while they're retreating! CHARGE!!!"
The spears did as they were told, with Heinrich's escort trailing behind at a walk. The Kaiser's plan wasn't completely effective, but the Papal mercenary crossbowmen did only manage a few volleys before they were forced to fall back.
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The battle was purely an infantry melee for a short amount of time. The Imperial spearmen fought and made gains against the less-numerous Papal spears. Seeing this, Pope Andreas charged his 46-strong escort in to even the tide, but Heinrich did the same with his.
The battle instantly grew less organized. Heinrich was aiming for the Pope, but the way things went, he and Andreas were at opposite ends of the "line." Heinrich wanted to charge his way through, but saw only Papal cavalry. As a matter of fact, that was all he saw, period. He was completely cut off from any support!
Some of Andreas's escort noticed this and circled in for the kill.
So, this is the way I go out. Surrounded by enemies and the Swabian Elector nowhere to be seen. Then let everyone know I go down in a blaze of glory!
Heinrich, King of the Romans, held his sword high in the air and bellowed something that could not be translated in any language other than that of battle-fury. His frail arm started hacking at the first thing he saw.
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Continuing to scream and battle, more akin to the Germanic barbarians of old than the ancient Romans, Heinrich did battle alone with the endless tide of Papal cavalry, preparing for his end. He received his share of blows, but none were strong enough to unhorse him. Meanwhile, he kept slashing away, bringing down horseman after horseman.
This is something that Henry will never understand. You must be strong, always. Even in death.
His body was weakening, his mind clouding. His saddle had turned red with blood. The end had come, he was expecting it, he would fight to the end...
...finally, relief. An Imperial horseman had seen the plight his Emperor was in and had come riding to the rescue. It was, of course, the Fifth Elector of Swabia.
Not bothering to apologize, he immediately took over where Heinrich left off, chopping and hacking at the Papal cavalry. A barely-conscious Heinrich watched with pleasure. However, it was clear that the Swabian Elector was not imbued with the same fury, the same battle lust. He took his share of blows and returned them in spades, but eventually the same event happened to him that would have happened to the Kaiser were it not for his intervention.
Heinrich could only watch in horror as another comrade fell. No one came riding to his rescue. No one rode to save him. The effort to defend his Kaiser, although valiant, had failed. And now, the remaining Papal cavalry had turned their attention back to the weakening Heinrich.
...there was a gasp on the other side of the battle. Heinrich, although hurt and not fully alert anymore, still knew what had happened. He had heard the sound twice before: When Gregory had fallen, and when Accattus had fallen. The same proved true with Andreas.
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The rout on the Papal side was instant. The men about to kill the Kaiser now turned and fled at the sight of him. Heinrich's horse, in a much better state than its mount, turned to pursue the routers, leaving behnd the pile of Papal corpses and the one Imperial body.
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The next thing Heinrich knew, it was day, and he was in bed. An odd light was shining around him.
Am I dead? Is this heaven?
At that instant, the light was blocked. Staring at him from above was a surgeon, not an angel.
"You're lucky to be alive, Mein Kaiser. Rome is safe, but you are hurt. I don't know how you managed to survive all those wounds at your age."
Heinrich mumbled. "And the Swabian?"
The surgeon shook his head. "I'm afraid that he..."
The words trailed off as the Kaiser fell back to sleep. Apparently, there was still work to be done, plans to go to fruition. But now there was one less ally to help him.
Maybe, just maybe... we can get Otterbach in now... and peace...
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Battle in the cold dense forests of Thorn.
The sound of armour shifting, and heavy boots pounding filled the air as Günther von Kastillien finally finished giving his second in command the final pre battle orders. The battle plan was simple, straight to the point.
The large Polish force had camped in the dense forests, and was awaiting the German force. Both forces were about equal in number, but the German force was of substantial better quality. Both in weaponry, and morale. Plus, the German force was also in possession of a new fighting force, the feudal foot knights. This was the first time they’d see battle, as far as Günther knew, and he was eager to try them out against the bold Poles.
As far as his scouts had told him, the Polish forces were positioned straight in front of the German force, with a small company of Polish nobles on the Polish right flank. Their formation was simple, spearmen were to main fighting force, assisted by weak archers and a few sword armed peasants. That said, they’re were a lot of them, and loss of good German troops was suspected. The Javelin armed Polish nobles always took their toll on our infantry, they were always a feared foe.
The plan was as followed. The archers would be sent to deal with the enemy archers, preferably taking such a heavy toll on them that they’d be unable to thin out our precious feudal knights and sergeant spearmen. The few cavalry that was present at the battle were to deal with the Polish nobles. A charge would probably brake them, and send them running for help. The cavalry would give chase, until positioned sufficiently behind the main bulk of the Polish force. In the mean time the German spearmen would march towards the enemy and take them head on. The feudal knights would act as shock troops, and would flank the enemy’s right side, after contact between the two main bodies was made. The archers would continue their barrage, stopping only to differ their targets from the enemy archers to the enemy infantry – and general. Günther would lead his own bodyguard against the enemy general on the battlefield, if the archers hadn’t taken care of the Polish fool by the time he got there.
Günther had given his orders, time to see if they’d be as effective as he hoped they would.
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
The archers moved in range, and immediatley started to take enemy fire. Losses were kept at a minimum by spreading out and returning fire themselves. In the mean time the enemy stood their ground, awaiting the impending onslaught.
The feared Polish nobles, however, were taken completely by surprise by the knights sent after them. They fell in moments, as they didn’t suspect the charge at all. They were hit in their side and they routed almost on contact.
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
The German cavalry were just beginning to chase the cowardly Polish nobles, when the first of the german infantry made contact. The right flank was now engaged, the left flank would follow suite as soon as it could.
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
The Polish peasants were selling their hides dearly, but they were losing 5 soldiers to each German one. They knew this, and they steadily fell back, leaving their right flank to take on the power of the Reich.
The Polish right, having stood by idlely after the initial contact on the other side, were now facing a dilema. They could help their comrades on their left, or brace themselves against the impeding charge of the feudal knights. They chose the latter option, and moments later they were hit head on by the eager knighst fighting on foot.
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
The fight continued, and the Polish slowly lost ground. The Polish right crumbled faster than the Polish left, even though they had been fighting a significantly shorter time than their brothers on the left side. The Feudal knights broke the enemy spearmen, and proceeded to charge the steadfast levy swordsmen, still fighting the German spears on the right, in the back. They didn’t stand a chance and broke as soon as the first German swords were plunged into Polish back.
Günther finally sent in his own bodyguard, and sent orders to the remaining cavalry to chase the routers, and capture them. It seemed, however, that the cowardly enemy captain had fled once the battle had tipped in German favour, and was already many a mile away.
Even though the Poles were soundly defeated the Germans did lose quite some men, 237 as told in the latest report. 237 good men against 1000 + enemy soldiers, not counting those who were captured and eventually killed once the ransom was turned down.
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
:balloon2:
"Conrad, we will attack tomorrow," Gerhard announced just before the evening meal, "and I have something rather odd to ask you, will you carry the banner of the Commander in to thios battle?"
"But of course, Sir" Conrad replied "but why?"
"The Hungarians that we face tomorrow have has superior infintry and equal cavlery to our own forces, we must use the power of surprise, and If I carry the Command Banner I cannot hide with our new Teutonic knights, it will be your job lure the young unskilled Capian into a charge of our line. But enough of that, we will discuss the particulars after we eat, Rally the men, let them eat heartely tonight, WE BATTLE TOMORROW!"
http://www.imagehosting.com/out.php/...rtofbattle.JPG
We deployed a long formation with most of the Cavlery hidden on the right flank (facing pic):
http://www.imagehosting.com/out.php/...rightflank.JPG
The lack of command expierence makes it's self known when the hungarians charge, with thier archers getting cut down in front:
http://www.imagehosting.com/out.php/...emyadvance.JPG
Our Troops counter charge, and the hungarian left desintegrates:
http://www.imagehosting.com/out.php/...noutcharge.JPG
With Panic racing through the hangarian line, there is quickly Chaos:
http://www.imagehosting.com/out.php/...utespreads.JPG
Conrad (foreground) and Myself (background) meet the Hungarian Prince and show him how real men fight.
http://www.imagehosting.com/out.php/...rianPrince.JPG
Our spearmen circle around from behind and trap the Prince, He's Captured, The Battle Is WON!!
http://www.imagehosting.com/out.php/...eFALLSPUSH.JPG
"You fight very well Conrad, " I said to him over drinks back at camp, "Most honourabley taking the prince Himself on, I think Ritter Salier has a nice ring to it doesn't it?"
He stared at me in slight disblief, "Congradulatons you've earned it"
In the morning when I got the official word from Rome that our coffers were pittifully low, I ordered the prisioners to ransomed back to Hungry, alas they are a cheap bunch thosew huingarians and wouldn't even take thier own flesh and bloods back.
http://www.imagehosting.com/out.php/t481565_ransom.JPG
http://www.imagehosting.com/out.php/t481566_ransom2.JPG
Butcher's bill:
http://www.imagehosting.com/out.php/...tchersbill.JPG
http://www.imagehosting.com/out.php/...chersbill2.JPG
Butcher's bill:
1172, Near Dijon.
Thunder rumbled through the afternoon sky, and the groound shook and ears were pressed hard. Jobst sighed in hgis tent,as he sat by the door, watching soldiers go by readying for battle.
A week before the Chancellor had contacted him to tell Jobst that a French army was nearby, and Jobst was to mop them up.
And here Jobst was. Rain pelted onto the roof of the tent, but softly.
jobst surveyed the surrounding area, looking for weakness in the Frenhc Army set up on the other side of the plains, and the landscape.
The Frenchies they were verusing were 794 strong, compared to Jobst's army of 731, mainly made up of Crossbow Miltia.
While Jobst was surveying the land, someone stood in front of him.Jobst got up quickly, drawing his sword. the person was no threat, it was his Biographer.
'Sorry for startling and disturbing you sir' said his Biographer. Jobst coughed and sat back down.
'Your French aren't you?' asked Jobst,
'Yes sir' said the man, Jobst nodded in a creepy way, and the Biographer spoke again nervoulsy.
'I was wondering if you...' the man was cut short of finishing his sentence by Jobst,
'Would like to say anything more on my biography?' said jobst amuseingly,
'Why, acutally sir that was exactly what I was to say, anyhow, do you sir?'
'No, now leave me in Peace, I need to speak with my Majors' said Jobst. This was a lie, he no logner needed his Major's help, now it was all his thinking. The Biographer hurried off, and Josbt lasped into silent thought again.
Some hours later someone shook him awake.
'Sir,sir, the French are assemblign in battle formation!' said a soldier, Jobst woke up with a start and sprang up.
'Get into Triple line formation! NOW!' yelled Jobst, it had stopped raining, but still no sun. Voices rang across the camp as majors yelled out Jobst's order to their companies. Soon the army was ready, Crossbowmen in front, Infantry behind and Cavarly behind them. And then ti started.
Jobst's Bodyguard rode up behind the Cavarly line, and waited. Trumpets rang across the plains, and a loud voice,
'Give up now you Germans, and we shall give you mercy!' yelled the voice form the French Army, Jobst rode to the front of his army and yelled back,
'When I am walking through your city of garbage then shall you give up froggie, ot do we have to make you hop away every time!?' yelled Jobst, and some of his soldiers laughed. Then silence, and Jobst turned to his army and spoke,
'I say to thou now, do not pray to the almighty god for victory, as we already have victory in our hands, we just have to shut our hand!' said Jobst,
'Now sending them back to the places they stole from us, and remember those killed in Metz, for Swabia, for The EMpire and Reich, for victory!' and Jobst raised his sword and ordered for the barrage of arrows to start.
Josbt rode back to his General unit, and at once the French Army moved forward. Dirt was kicked up as The French Cavlry moved forward, and a twanging sound whipped through the air, and tens of Horsemen fell from their horses.
'Sire, their losses are gettign highed, we have no losses!' siad Jobst's Flag Bearer, Jobst nodded.
'Move the Infantry forward jsut behind the Crossbowmen!' yelled Jobst, and the Indfnatry did that.
And then the armies impacted.
Lots of Crossbowmen were killed at once, but many fought well, killing many.
The Infantry moved forward and they fought. FOr long the armies were locked together, with Jobst's Bodyguard stealthily moving behind the French, but they went to far behind.
'Their behind you, behind you!' yelled a group of French Soldiers who were behind Jobst's unit, Peasent Archers. At once Jobst's unit rode forwrad and attacked the French from behind. And then ti was over. All of the French routed, runnign into traps of Infantry. ABd The Germans rode them down. The Germans went back to camp, and sang victory songs, and drank beer all night. But in the morning a new problem arose. Jobst was shaken awake,
'What now?' he demanded,
'Sorry mein prinz but we have a problem'
'WHich is?' muttered Jobst,
'We captured 200 or so soldiers, now we don't know what to do with them' said The Major. Jobst thought over it,
'Kill them' he said, and so they did, and on that day 461 French died.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Battle Stastictics (sp?) ( I don't have picture of battle victory screen)
Deployed Lost Enemies-Killed
(The Player) Prince Jobst 731 352 461
(French Enemies) Captain Lucas 794 672 122
men remaining for:
Jobst: 379
Captain Lucas:122
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
End of Report
The Fall of Budapest, 1174:
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
Night had descended upon the Hungarian capital of Budapest so the time was right for the Austrian Household Army to make their move. Leopold had spoken about his plans with Hans several times now and between the two of them it had reached a perfection that would lead this assault to success.
Leopold had hired some Slav Mercenaries and Balkan Archers to bolster his forces. Equipped with one set of ladders they were to attack the main gate of Budapest.
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
Leopold himself took the Crossbowmen and Seargant Spearmen with him to the West Gate.
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Hans had taken the Mailed Knights with him to the East gate.
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Both men had one ram with them, ready to knock down the gates, while the defenders were distracted. The Hungarian captain was no fool though and had split his forces equally between the three gates, whether that would help him in the long run, remained to be seen.
Leopold ordered his ram forward, while one of his Spearmen units took up the ladders to scale the walls.
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
At the same time the assault on the Southern and Eastern gates began. Seeing the largest host under Leopold approaching from the West, the Magyars abandoned the Southern gate to the oncoming mercenaries.
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
The ram on the Western gate had been quick though and were ready to break the gate. On the other side Hungarian Nobles were already waiting for Leopold , once it was breached.
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
The Spearmen on the battlements were fighting desperatly against the Hungarian Militia, gaining ground slowly.
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Below Leopold charged his bodyguard through the gate engaging the Hungarian Nobles, who quickly abandoned the battle to flee towards the city square. The Western gate was open and the Imperial soldiers entered the city.
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Meanwhile Hans ram had done a good job in crushing the Eastern gate.
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He immediatelly spurred his large host of cavalry forward towards the Town Square. He was met halfway by the Hungarian cavalry that had not been sent to the Western gate. Fierce fighting ensued in the streets, with both sides fighting vigorously for every inch.
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
In the South the Mercenaries had finally scaled the walls surrounding the main gate unopposed and were now making their way forward to the Town Square.
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Finally Hans had broken the resistance of the Hungarian horse and could now pursue them to the Town Square himself.
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The remaining defenders had rallyed in the center of the city and were preparing their defense. It was a desperate choice with Imperial troops closing in on them from three sides. It was Hans with his cavalry that reached them first from the East, soon supported by Slav Mercenaries coming in from the South.
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
Duke Leopold was still held back at the Western end of the town square were some units were resisting his attack. Finally he got them to flee and now the path was free for him to charge the remaining enemies!
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
The ensuing battle was gruesome and through the mist of battle Leopold could see that young Hans must have taken several hits and his once shiny armor was covered in dark stains. Still both men continued to hack away at their enemies until the last resistance was removed.
Spurring his horse onward Leopold approaches Hans, raising his visor. "You look terrible son!" He bellowed loudly.
Hans who looked relieved had already taken the time to take off his helmet and was grinning in response. "So do you, uncle!"
"Get off that horse boy, now! You think you did well in the battle? Did you?"
Looking a little uncertain Hans obeys, while Leopold leaps from his horse to land on the ground close to him. Walking two steps towards the young man, who slowly bends one knee, Leopold draws his sword again, which is still stained with the blood of his enemies, raising it high he stands in front of Hans, slowly lowering it to hover above his shoulder.
"For your honourable service to the Reich and House of Austria! For bravery shown in the face of the enemy! For fighting were others would have fled! For commanding and inspiring your men to follow you! I hereby declare you an Imperial Knight."
"Now stand up, Knight Hans of Swabia!"
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
‘Damn them, damn them all’ Günther exclaimed ‘this ‘ll set us back another year’ he continued, scaring the scribe writing down his every word. He had been travelling back to Thorn after the competent scouts of the Reich had detected yet another weak Polish force headed for the castle of Thorn. It seems they even have the manpower to sacrifce their soldiers on suicide missions, whilst the wise thing would of course have been to actually combine those forces. And preserve them...
The inevitable assault on Breslau would have to wait just that bit longer, and Günther never was the man known for his ever lasting patience...
‘We’ll do this the easy way’, Günther thought aloud, ‘our spearmen will engage and our horses will flank’. This will be over in no time. He ended, knowing he was wasting precious time on matters easily done by someone lower in rank.
As soon as the Poles were seen, Günther sent in the Peasant archers. The battle may not be as large as his ego demanded it to be, yet he still liked to minimise friendly casualties.Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
The archers were to be guarded by the heavy shields of the friendly spearmen, and would continue to fire into the enemy ranks until the very last moment before impact between the two main lines. Which, Ironially, consited of one Polish battalion.
Two contignents of spearmen where ordered to flank the Polish right and left, and position themselves for the inevitable charge once the lines were engaged, and once the fight would begin in earnest.
As the spearmen slowly advanced, and the archers continued their shower of arrows on the enemy lines, Günther ordered his personal guard to circumvent the enemy left. Adding yet another hammer used to strike the soon to be engaged Poles.Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
Once the troops were positioned, the spearmen in front of the enemy were ordered to engage. Walking at first, but steadily increasing their tempo they engaged the enemy; spears raised up high, and shields low. The first men were beginning to fall, on both sides...
A horn was sounded, and the archers directed their fire over the first line of combatants. Targetting the enemy general. The flankers were now given the order to engage, and were soon followed by the general himself.Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
The fighting didn’t last long, and the enemy tried to flee once they noted the fact that they were being attacked from all sides. Few, however, made it through the steadfast Germans.Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
Their general wasn’t one of the lucky ones; he was cut down by Günthers bodyguard, whilst trying to out run them. Foolish Poles.
The battle didn’t last long, and the Poles were almost destroyed to the man. The survivors were stripped of their weapons and valuables – but spared. They were to be ransomed, if the Poles wanted their cowardly comrades back that is...Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
Another battle won, surely many more would follow.Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
:balloon2:
Hamburg, 1174
It was a very cold morning. A fresh snow had fallen over night, and there was still a heavy cloud cover. It was dark, and it was cold. Normally, the streets of Hamburg would be largely deserted, but this morning quite the opposite was the case. It seems that everyone was in the streets, running in a generally northernly direction, although no one seemed to know why. Upon arriving at the north gate, it became clear why everyone wanted to see it, for it was a very peculiar sight: the gate was wide open! Furthermore, the entire garrison of the city had just marched out. Somebody yelled, "They're abandoning us, the city has been abandoned to the English!" which prompted loud cheers from one part of the assembled mob, and lamentations from the other part. With no governor and no garrison present, order quickly began to degenerate, until someone else yelled, "the English are gone!"
Everyone paused for a moment, and then rushed to the gate. Those who could not gain access to the gate began scaling the wall, entering the towers, and climbing the nearby houses to gain a view. The English camp, which had been there for 8 years, was still just outside of the city, as were the siege works. However, the English army, the entire English army, was most certainly no longer present. Order again began to degenerate as a large-scale argument erupted over what had happened. No one had any real answers, and no one was quite brave enough to ride out. Shortly after, a group of peasants, about 100 in number, approached the city from the north, carrying most of their possessions. As they entered the city, they were quickly surrounded by the mob, and bombarded with questions. Through it all, they managed to relate that they were from a nearby village, and that they were told to take refuge in the city as there was about to be a battle.
North of Hamburg, 1174
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
"Put the cavalry on the left. All of it."
Fredericus looked down at the old, worn-out copy of the book he was holding. On Military Tactics, by Tiberius Coruncanius.
He continued to speak quietly, to himself. "Right. We shall use the massed cavalry and the incoming reinforcements to create a 'local superiority' on the left flank, and attack their 'weak point', which are those peasants on the left, and that will create a.. a.. 'chain rout'." He looked unsure. He had never commanded an entire army in battle before, and was now tasked with defeating an enemy army which had a much larger number of infantry, and exactly the same number of cavalry as his.
He tried to reassure himself. "This has been done before. Our sergeants are superior to their militia, they will hold the line for a long time. The cavalry will have plenty of time to strike, the peasants will rout. The line will know what to do, we even practiced the maneuvers at..."
"The English advance!"
Well, it was too late now. There was but time for a short prayer before the lines collided.
The lines did collide, and the cavalry advanced on the left. As planned beforehand, they stopped, they turned around, and they charged.
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
The first peasants routed. The cavalry withdrew to perform another charge while the reinforcing spear militia advanced to envelop the right of the English line.
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As this was executed, the English commander attacked in the center with the remainder of his cavalry. Fredericus moved in personally to prevent the line from being broken.
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This action caused the death of the English commander, and a subsequent rout, from left to right, of the entire English line.
Well, it worked, but the casualties were heavy. The spearmen took many casualties while the lines were engaged with each other, and the cavalry and others did as well while they flanked. Those old Roman reports must be exaggerated. Either that, or their enemies were far more incompetent than they'd have you believe.
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
Outside of Hamburg, 1174
A representative from the city, whose name escapes me at the moment, came to the army camp to meet with Fredericus, who inquired about the status of the city.
"There was some disorder," he answered, "but everything is fine now. The people are happy that you are back. They are preparing a large feast in your honor."
"That's wonderful, but I must move on to Frankfurt with no delay, it is being sieged by the Poles."
"But the city has been under siege for eight years. You won't even stop by for a moment?"
"I can't," Fredericus insisted, "there are matters to take care of. Speaking of matters to be taken care of, I need you to take care of the prisoners captured here, about 300 in number. They're just militiamen and peasants. I doubt they wanted to be dragged here and forced to fight their Saxon brothers. Ensure their safe return to England."
The representative nodded and exited. One of the knights complained that they would not stop by Hamburg even for a short time. He was particularly concerned that they would not get to meet any of the women who would be... grateful for the rescue. Fredericus responded:
"The city has been under siege for eight years, while I was a short distance away in Magdeburg. I think they'd much rather want to hang me than to have a feast in my honor. We'd best be moving on, we have other cities to rescue."
Southwest of Florence, 1176
As the rain poured down on what was to be the day's battlefield, Conrad Salier sat alone in his tent. He had already briefed the men about his battle strategy for the day; this was his time to mutter his usual series of prayers. Today, however, there would be a few extra - this was the first time that he had actually led men into battle.
I am but a tool of the Lord, he thought to himself. Today, that tool happens to be a weapon.
His faith had been somewhat shattered in 1160, the year in which he officially joined the Imperial Diet. A meeting with his benefactor, Maximillian Mandorf, had left him shocked and questioning much. However, he had learned to put that all behind him (at least, publicly) and focus on the task at hand. Besides, God was most likely testing him, much like he did to Job.
As he sat in his tent praying, he could hear the patter of the rain get louder, as well as the shifting of his men in armour. It was time to kill the Milanese, in the name of God and the Reich.
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
The composition of the two small armies he faced were the oddest that he had ever seen or heard about. The first army immediately in his vicinity was commanded by one Count Augustino, and accordingly had a large heavy cavalry escort with him. Backing him up was only one regiment of infantry, and they were peasants at that. However, there were three well-trained regiments of catapults as well, which would wreak tremendous havoc, even in the rain, if allowed to keep up a sustained barrage.
Despite the presence of the catapults, the second, reinforcement army worried Conrad more. They only numbered 361 men, but for each man a horse was present. He faced six regiments of pure cavalry.
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
"Men," cried Conrad, finally ready for battle along with his soldiers, "Be thankful for the weather today! The Lord has provided us with a great opportunity for victory! He makes life difficult for those catapults to fire properly, and He also allows us to rid ourselves of any blood that may dirty our uniforms!"
A few of the more vulgar men chuckled at the last comment. Apparently, it was possible to mix Christianity with the more unpleasant tastes.
"Forwarrrrrrrrd... MARCH!!!"
The soldiers started to walk, as planned. The Milanese facing them did the same, although the catapults stopped as soon they were in firing range. As the remainder of the armies continued marching towards each other, the catapults fired a salvo into Imperial ranks, to little effect. However, that was the signal to end the charade that Conrad was putting on.
"All cavalry CHARGE!"
On cue, the numerous Imperial horsemen accelerated to a run. While less in number than the Milanese reinforcements that were making their way to the battle, they were still significant, and plus, they were heavy. The peasants broke instantly, and Count Augustino's escort was in serious trouble. Things were going well enough to send two regiments towards the catapults.
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
Shortly after, Count Augustino fell, a victim of momentum.
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That was it was for the first army. However, as he mopped up the fleeing remnants, Conrad looked at the ridge to the southwest. The second army was closing in.
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This would be close. Conrad fiercely ordered his men to form up, to meet the threat, to face the cavalry. His men did so, and just in time.
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
The impact was horrendous, for both sides. The Milanese charge stopped dead and a significant fraction of their men dropped. However, it was done so at a terrible cost to the Imperial infantry, who lost more than half of their number. A few of the weaker units broke outright after stopping the initial charge.
At that point though, the relatively-healthy Imperial cavalry swarmed in. After a short period of time, the tide turned, and whoever was commanding the cavalry ordered them to get out.
Conrad and his men pursued, catching some of them.
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
Most likely they'll go back to their ships to the west of here, he mulled. Perhaps if we get lucky this rain will turn into a storm and sink them.
Satisfied at the results of his first battle as a commander, Conrad made his way back to his tent, drafting a letter informing Chancellor Leopold of what transpired.
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
Battle near Zagreb, 1176:
Leopold didn't like being here. Chasing some Croatian Rebels while a large Hungarian army led by Banos Gergely was burning his lands near Vienna. He could strike at the Austrian capital at his will or even recapture Budapest. All the while the Venetians had just bypassed Zagreb and were heading for Venice.
Still this was a battle that had to be fought. The rebels had blocked an important Danube crossing, blocking passage and denying Leopold a safe route to Zagreb, and more importantly denying reinforcements from Zagreb to reach him. Reinforcements he desperately needed after the hight casualties sustained in the assault on Budapest. He needed the roads safe for his defensive strategem to work. Constantly travelling between Zagreb and Budapest wherever the next threat would be apparent.
One could almost feel sorry for the Rebels. Only a small number of Croat Axemen ready to fight for their lives in the face of a superior Imperial army outnumbering them vastly. It was an easy task and one Leopold took care to carry out right.
He advanced his crossbows within firing range, backed up by the host of his armiey. Not daring to attack the superior foe the Croats took the beating of the Imperial bolts. They took it well enough, but after their numbers had been halfed a last bolt struck down their Captain that had been holding them together until know.
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
Taking this as a signal the Croatians started to flee. Smiling to himself Leopold ordered his Crossbowmen to hold their file. Drawing his sword he spurred his head forward giving his Knights the signal for the attack. The rest of the Rebels were mowed down by Imperial Cavalry.
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
Finally the roads were secure again and Leopold could turn his attention to more important matters.
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
The winter had only just begun, however, seeing as every lake in the near proximity was turned into ice one would have thought the winter to be in its prime. Günther couldn’t quite shake of the depression haunting his mind. It always came in the winter, when the days were short and nights long, but it bothered him more this time around. Yet another Polish force had been detected, again heading for Thorn. Under the cover of the winter snow, the Poles had again managed to sneak an army through the German lines. And again, Günther had had to order his army to head back to Thorn, and deal with them. How he hated these uninspiring battles. Even the enemy soldiers knew the outcome beforehand – no challenge whatsoever. And Günther absolutely hated that.
Promises of plunder, woman, and hot food were wasted on the men when they marched back to the castle of Thorn. Knowing they wouldn’t stay in the castle, they wouldn’t even visit it, but merely take care of the Polish threat, and then turn around for Breslau again. The men didn’t like it, but they were Germans, and they didn’t falter.
It was a clear day when the Germans marched up to the Poles, who were outnumbered at least 2 : 1, and commanded by the anonymous captain who went by the name of Vaclav. The enemy captain had positioned his forces as far away from the Germans as he could, and awaited the inevitable German assault.
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
Günther, finally being able to vent his frustration on yet another poor Polish captain, ordered his archers to engage, and his large force of cavalry to make a large flanking movement. Ideally to attack the Polish rear, or at least cut of the Polish nobles from the main force.
Once the archers started their deadly barrage, the Polish missle cavalry were sent in to deal with the archer attack. Spears were thrown at the German archers, and some hit home. However, the Polish hadn’t counted on the German cavalry, approaching from behind.
Captain Vaclav had not even thrown his first javalin, or issued his first order, when the superior German cavalry charged in from behind. Decimating the Polish force, and spearing the unfortunate captain.Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
Immediately after the death of the enemy captain, Günther ordered his archers to shoot fire arrows at the demoralized enemy. Chaos ensued when the Polish spearmen were hit with the dreaded fire, and they weren’t able to turn the vicious cavalry charge. Let alone the impetuous feudal foot knigts, eager to get up close and personal with the fearful Polish spears.
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
The routing Polish were hunted down, many falling to the persuing cavalry, and or surrendering to the feudal knights.
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
The battle didn’t last long, and the sun wasn’t even setting when the last Poles were rounded up, stripped, and were ordered to dig the graves of their worthy German overlords and unlucky comrades.
All in all, about three hundred graves had to be dug, forty German ones and a little over 250 Polish graves.
When the sun had completely set, and the Germans on their way to main camp, another 150 bodies were littered on the frozen battlefield. Polish soldiers not considered worthy enough to be bought back. What a barbarous tribe it is, will they ever learn ?Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
If not, we’ll have to make them.
:balloon2:
Battle of Thessalonica plains, December 1178
The Hungarians had been pursuing them into Venetian lands ever since one of the men Adalberth had brought along to the escape from Budapest was spotted while collecting wood in the sparsely covered mountains west of Sofia. Hans had hoped that the Magyars would have stopped at the border not wanting to offend the Venetians, but luck was not with him today, nor any of his men, for they would all have to fight to the last to see the dawn - possibly even in a Hungarian prison camp. There was no route for retreat. They had been surrounded by a host of over a thousand, maybe two thousand Barbarians and he, as the commander, would have to find a way to break through one of these lines. If he was lucky, they'd be able to escape into Byzantine lands. If not, god would have mercy on their souls.
With the sound of hooves and boots approaching, Hans raised his sword to inspire his men.
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He even felt that a light hearted joke would raise the poor morale among his entourage that numbered only 25 men and himself.
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He was glad that he knew Hungarian tactics from his battle at Budapest and knew it would be bloody. A fact he did not intend to keep from his men.
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Hans placed his bodyguard behind a snowy hill, hoping to exhaust the Hungarians as they marched towards him. To his surprise, the enemy lines of crossbows numbering in the thousands ran in front of the main army with a single magyar cavalry regiment leading the charge towards his position. Feeling that this was the time, Hans called for his men to ride proudly into battle and charged the cavalry, hoping it would be a good shield against the enemy crossbows. He was right.
Many of the enemy horses fell as their brethren unleashed a host of bolts that darkened the horizon without regard for their presence. Only few managed to hit Hans' men.
Seeing that several regiments of nobles were approaching from both flanks attempting to encircle him, Hans forced his men backward, breaking from the melee and charging up against the similarly eager nobles. Again, the Hungarians were foolish enough to let their men be caught between him and their own missiles and took heavy losses. Maybe soon they would be able to find a breach in the enemy lines? Hans wondered, but right at this moment the enemy captain approached on his horse attempting to thrust a sword into the absentminded young man. With quick reflexes, Hans managed at the last moment to avert the blade and in turn stab his through the side of the captain, dismounting him. In horror, he noticed that the Hungarians did not break as their commander lay dead.
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Without much hope of surviving in his current situation, Hans again forced his men to break from melee and allow him to reassess the situation. His bodyguard was down to some 10 men now and all of them were injured, including him. A few more fell as the Hungarians restlessly pelted them with bolts from afar. Morale was terrible, but Hans knew they would be able to break through the enemy lines soon. With the vigor of youth, he ordered several charges into the enemy infantry in an attempt to break them. His men took heavy losses but ran their lances through over a hundred magyar bodies.
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Alas, with one of the spear units routing, Hans finally saw an opportunity to escape from the vast horde of Magyars, but he would have to be quick about it. He had several bolts sticking out of his armour and blood was seeping through, coloring the proud Imperial eagle red. Adalberth was heavily wounded and Hans had to bind him to his own horse while another soldier tried to cover their retreat. That man soon fell, hundreds of arrows and bolts piercing his body, but his death allows Hans and Adalberth to break through the last resistance of the routing spears and escape certain death
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Northern Croatia, 1180:
It was a warm day in the north of Croatia. The Hungarians had been visible for days now by the large columns of dust risen by their Horses. It was those same horses Leopold was afraid of. His own army was a decent mix. Good Spears, some Crossbow support and close to 100 Mailed Knights. His enemy was led by Banos Gergely and although he had to fill his army with Slav Mercenaries and Balkan Archers to equal their numbers he could rely on Feudal Knights both Dismounted and on horse along with Hungarian Nobles.
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It was a lush forrested valley where Leopold had finally caught up with his enemies. They had bypassed him earlier and avoided him, trying to sneak towards Zagreb. The enemy had avoided him. It has reached his enemiey that they were facing one of the Reichs best generals. And one who was not known for his kindness towards his enemies.
Now they had set up a defensive position on a hillside overlooking the valley. Leopold marched his troops over the left flank of the valley coming at the Hungarians on equal ground.
Trying to repell the attacker Banos sent his Foot Missile units forward, too far though. Immediatelly the Imperial Mailed Knights rode forward and charged the Missiles unopposed.
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They fled soon, while the Hungarian main army came forward to meet the Attackers. This was the signal for the Mailed Knights to retreat to their own lines closely followed by the Hungarian host.
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The Hungarian counter-attack was swift and brutal. While Leopolds right was showered with arrows the Slav Mercenaries advanced on the left. Wanting to push the Horse Archers further away Leopold advanced. This was the moment the Hungarians chose to send in their cavalry. The Feudal Knights wrought havoc amongst the Sergeant Spearmen anihilating about one hundred of them in their initial charge. Leopold ordered his own bodyguard into the fray while the Mailed Knights charged the left flank where Banos Gergely was leading the attack.
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The decisivness of the Imperial charge was shaking the enemy troops. The Mercenaries were the first to succumb and soon after the Mailed Knights managed to slay Banos Gergely.
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With their leader only some Dismounted Feudal Knights continued fighting while the rest left the field.
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Leading his men personally Leopold made sure to let none of the Hungarians escape, before ordering their execution. His enemy had rightfully feared and avoided the confrontation with him and now they were all dead. Leopold knew that those would not have been the last Hungarians he would face in the future.
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placeholder for X-th battle of Vencie.
Battle of Nicae 1184
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Dietrich sat on his horse on the hills East from Nicae. The day of battle had arrived. He was facing a large army of Egyptians led by Al Amir Nasir,who were trying to attack the Bysantian lands. The Battlefied was set so that the Egyptians were North from the Vanguard of the German crusader army. A small contingent of Bysantines was approaching the field from the West lead by the Bysantine Emperor John.
After s short negotiation Dietrich gave the orders to the army. The army was set on a plateu next to an large East West pointed ridge,far enough from the ridge so the Egyptian missiles couldnt shoot the Germans from there. Maximillian Mandorf took the command of the left of the army,while Jonas Von Mahren was in charge of the right.Dietrich himself was in the center behind the lines of crossbows and infantry and foot knights.
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As the battle started the Germans were able to see the heathen muslims for the first time. These men were mostly infantry and first thing Dietrich noticed was that they were not very heavily armoured.
"I think our crossbows will kill many of these bastards today"
The Bysantines marched on the field on the west of the muslims with their catapults and few infantry men and started pounding the muslim army. Dietrich stood calmly and waited what would happen next.
The Egyptian commander divided his troops and deployed his missiles against Germans,while leading his infantry into assault against the Bysantines. Dieetrich gave an brief command.
"Crossbows aim for the horses of the horse archers! Right flank cavalry prepair!"
after couple volleys from the 6 units of crossbows,most of the Egyptian horse archers were shot dead,Dietrich ordered.
"Right flank cavalry charge! Crossbows cease fire!"
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Dietrich joined the cavalry charge also and in a matter of seconds as two general bodyguards units and an unit of Teutonic knights charged over the archers,they were slain.Few of them got away,but Dietrich halted the cavalry.He watched carefully to the North West and saw that the Egyptian infantry was engaging the Bysantines heavily and he commanded.
"Whole army to the high ground! Mandorf and Mahren keep the flanks!"
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The army moved over the bodies of the dead Egyptian archers.
As the Germans approached they could easily see how good the situation was.
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If they could move fast enough, they would arrive on the rear of the now engaged Egyptian force.Dietrich ordered the army to move on the double quick.
Soon the Bysantines were getting enough and started routing from the field,but that didint help the Egyptians. Now the crusader army was completely in order behind them the crossbows were wreaking havoc among the lightly armored muslims.
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As the Egyptian commander ordered charge uphill,Dietrich smiled to himself and sayed to his Lietenant besides him.
"Poor bastards,they are doomed."
The crossbows fired still few volleys to the advancing mass of Egyptian infantry.After that they retreated behind the main line of Germans. Dietrich had moved on the right and as the Egyptian infantry reached the German crusaders main battle line Dietrich blowed on his warhorn and on the right lead by himself and on the left commanded by Von Mandorf the German knights hitted the Egyptians with devastating force. Now also the German foot knights and spearmen charged and soon the whole Egyptian army was a mass of routing men trapped between the Crusader cavalry and infantry.
A mere 45 Egyptians escaped as the rest lowered their weapons.The Crusader army had won a resounding victory. After the battle the three German noblemen gathered and decided that there should be no mercy for the heathens and every prisoner was put to the sword and sent back to what false god they were worshipping.
The Butchers bill:
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Fall of Ragusa, 1184:
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Leopold did not get it. There in front of him sat one of the mightiest Castles he had ever seen. In fact it was rightfully called a Fortress. Two sets of walls had to be scaled and that was after the attacking army had been funneled on top of a plateau through a narrow rise. Then after the first gate was breached the way to the second gate would expose any intruder to Fire from the inner wall, raining fiery death or worse on the attackers. It was an attackers nightmare. Leopold had considered asking for Trebuchets to be brought in from Venice to even have a remote chance of taking this Venetian stronghold.
That's why he did not understand why the Venetians had neglected to defend it. The Fortress was virtually deserted, with only one Venetian Noble and his retainers trying to organize the defense. He almost pitied Barbus Selvo, but the stupidity prevented him. It was true that reinforcements were coming from the East, but it was too late. Imperial spies had managed to gain access to the gates and would open them during the attack. Leading his men Leopold advanced the Fortress in a slow canter.
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No men had manned the gate and so no arrows greeted the Imperial army as they made their way to the gate. Barbus Selvo had chosen to stay in the Central Plaza awaiting the attackers. Why he even had the nerve to stay and fight instead of just handing over the castle was beyond him. He would make the Venetian pay for his decision.
Unopposed Leopold entered the strong first gate.
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Barbus Selvo must not have accepted such an easy entrance for the Austrian army. His surprise didn't last long and he spurred his bodyguard onward to meet the Imperial troops in glorious battle.
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Leopold ordered his own bodyguard to lead the way against the Venetian attack, closely followed by his Mailed Knights. He would teach his adversary how foolish it was to charge a whole army all by himself. Some would have honoured his foe for his bravery and chivalry. Leopold just admired the mens stupidity.
The two horse groups clashed in one of the narrow streets leading to the second gate. The battle was bloody, both sides fought bitterly. Finally Leopold had managed to reach Barbus Selvo and traded decisive blows with him.
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Finally Leopold was able to breach his enemies defense and deliver a killing blow. The rest of his bodyguard finally realized the foolishnes of their action and tried to flee. None of them escaped.
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1184
The Second battle for Dijon - The Sally Forth
Once again the city of Dijon was sieged by the forces of the Kingdom of France. Being Jobst Von Salza's given city, and treasured, he was too defend it. Or die trying.
it was nearly night time, most soldiers were falling asleep at their posts. That was untill a booming voice woke them up,
'Get to the Western gate! We are to sally forth, or you shall be slain by those French!' eylled the voice, and the Garrison of Dijon reaied themselves for the forthcoming battle, and waited by the Western Gate.
The French were also ready, waiting silently, among their meager ranks was also some mercanires, Spearmen and Frankish Knights. Both considerbly good, in Jobst's eyes.
While allt his happened, Jobst was waiting at the main Castle of the city, leaning over a balcony, watching. His Captain and BodyGuards waiting patiently behind him.
'I fear...' muttered Jobst, the Captain was slightly disheartened.
'Of battle sir?' asked the Captain.
'No! I shall never fear for battle... only for Swabia and The Reich' said Jobst,louder.
'Is it of Von Kassel's Chancellorship mein prinz?' asked the Captain.
"never, Chancellor Von Kassel is a good soldier,leader and man, I would never speak behind anyones backs, I would prefer to say it to their faces! But it is forwhat might happen to our Duchy, we are in grave danger Captain.' said Jobst,
'But now to battle!' he said cheerily.
'Yes mein prinz'
And Jobst put on his armor, a full bodied play of armor. And he strided downstaris, onto his amored horse and Jobst and his Bodyguard rode to the Western Gate.
When he reached their he nodded to his Captain, and then to the front of his army.
'Once again we face these vile French, the one The Reich is determined to stop conquering our lands, but most of all, the ones who Swabia despies! The ones who pillaged metz, killed The great Sigismund'(jobsts eyes darkened)' and wish to burn this great place of Dijon, so I say to you, Sally Forth with no fear, and kill as many as you can, OR DIE TRYING!' yelled Jobst, and a earth shattering roar issued from the army. And they turned to the gates, where they rode through, and too the sunset and battle.
At once Jobst ordered the Peasent Crossbowmen forward, who started firing at the enemys dismounted knights. Then the other four archer units started firing at once.
Jobst carefully observed the battle, and saw the enemy front line burning. The captain spoke,
'By god, what is that devillary?' he asked,
'Why, that is our archers fire arrows, burning their line' replied Jobst, and so it was. A horrible screaming could be heard, and burning flesh.
'Section the army into groups, the normal spearmen and townpeoples, then the elites' said Jobst,
'Elties sir?'
'Our dismounted Knights, the Seargent Spearmen, those Elites' said Jobst. The captain nodded, and so they were. Then they were ordered to attack certian areas.
Some Normal Spearmen went around the enemy, the other nrmal spearmen attacked the Frech Spearmen/Town Miltia, and the Elites attacked the highly armored ones.
And with several minutes of bloody fighting, it was all over, as the enemy routed.
And Dijon was saved, to fight another day!
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*placeholder*
Battle near Ragusa, 1186:
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The Venetians had been quite surprised to find the Fortress they had been sent to relieve already in enemies hands. Leopold had ridden forth to meet them and drive them back south. They had chosen the more orderous path north though, probably hoping that they could use the mountains as cover. Not wanting them to join with some Venetian remnants further north, Leopold pursuied his enemy deep into the mountains. When he was finally able to get them to battle he surveyed the battlefield with much dismay.
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Mabye it would have been less strenuos to have faced this men in the Fortress at Ragusa than attempting to attack their formidable defensive position. He could count himself lucky that there were no Missile units among the enemy. Instead he was faced with some of the most formidable Heavy Infantry known.
Not wanting to exhaust his men too much Leopold tried to advance up a somewhat shallower slope to the East of the enemy, hoping to gain some equal ground from where he could attack him. Mabye sensing his plans or eager to engage the enemy the Venetians also set out towards a downhill slope to the left of their position.
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This gave Leopold enough time to deploy his men in a defensive fashion. Now turning the battle. His enemy would be charging downhill but he outnumbered them and once the Infantry was within reach of his Crossbowmen a deadly hail of bolts began, breaking the first attempts of attack.
Soon the Venetians engaged the Imperial troops in earnest though. Due to their superior numbers and positioning the enemy soon found himself outflanked. Leopold had meanwhile maneuvered his cavalry further up the slope from where he could survey the whole battlefield, and more importantly lead a downhill charge!
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The Venetian resistance was quickly dispersed and none of the Heave Infantry lived up to its reputation as they were hacked down one after another. Those that fled were mercilessly cut down, it would not have made sense to take them prisoner. After all he had just conquered Ragusa to deny his enemy access to these elite troops, so he surely had no intention of ransoming anybody.
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The First Battle of Adana, 1188
“How long has it been since we last fought a battle, Ernst?” Henry wondered. Ernst, his most devoted guard, looked back impassively, having long ago learnt not to interrupt the Kaiser’s soliloquies.
“How many years? Ah, my brain hurts even trying to think on that. What was our last battle, Ernst?”
Ernst watched the Kaiser stride around the tent, Henry’s agitation and excitement clear to behold.
“I remember now - it was against the French while Manfred was still Chancellor, just after poor Sigismund fell. What has become of Swabia now? It has lost its way, and the French still menace us.”
A fellow Swabian, Ernst looked down dolefully.
“But now, at last, we are back. And what a battle. Dusan reckons there are 1500 of the Mohammedans.”
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“Am I too eager to be back on the field of battle? Hans and Dietrich seem to think so. Damn, I am sad to see Otto’s gone. It’s not good to go into battle with reluctant warriors. Still, Hans and Dietrich surely understand that this battle, at least must be fought?”
Henry looked carefully at Ernst:
“You haven’t got much to say for yourself, have you?”
Ernest was about to respond to the Kaiser, when he heard footsteps approach and turned round to see Dusan Kolar stride into the tent, his black cloak swirling.
“Still talking to your damned dog, Kaiser” said Dusan, as he scratched Ernst’s ears and the dog thumped his tail from side to side excitedly. “Some people would say you’re going mad. Gone to the dogs, even.”
The Kaiser looked irritatedly at his presumptious advisor, who was crouched happily petting Ernst, Henry’s faithful guard dog.
“Come, Kaiser, you must put on your cloak - we’ve a journey to make. The Egyptian General, Mahmoud Ahmad, has requested a parley.
*****
Henry looked at the commanding young figure in front of him. Mahmoud Ahmad was only 33, but he spoke with calm authority and moved with grace.
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“Great Kaiser, it is truly an honour to meet you. I am grateful for you agreeing to talk.”
Why the hell am I talking? Kaiser wondered to himself. This is to be a battle, not a breakfast! What was Kolar thinking? Henry tried to compose himself and said reservedly:
“Do not mention it, General. What was it you wanted to discuss?”
Mahmoud waved to his servants to bring Henry a small pot of coffee. The Kaiser tasted the drink cautiously, finding the sober, bitter beverage much more suitable for the time before battle than the wine, beer and spirits routinely consumed by the Germans. When the Kaiser had sipped from his cup, Mahmoud continued calmly.
“Kaiser, as I believe you know, my orders are to march on Constantinople. While our countries may now be at war, I have no intention to strike at you. I respect your strength and that of your warriors. If we fight today, the losses may be so great I may arrive at Constantinople with too few men to accomplish my mission. Or I may not arrive at all.”
Henry admired the young men’s candour and so returned it.
“General, you are a good and loyal soldier. There are good and loyal generals in my camp who think of my situation, as you think of yours.”
Mahmoud’s eyes widened slightly:
“Then Kaiser, take your army and pass by. No one need die this day.”
Henry drained his cup, as the last bitter drop of coffee fell, it only added to the empty feeling inside the Kaiser and he shook his head, sadly.
“I am sorry, General. It is impossible. Constantinople is the capitol of my allies and I am honour bound to assist them.”
Mahmoud looked down, and nodded.
“I understand the calls of duty and friendship, Kaiser. And, of course, I am not surprised. You have already stopped one of our armies heading for Constantinople, perhaps I was foolish to think you would not do so again.”
The Egyptian general looked up and narrowed his eyes:
“But there is one thing, I ask of you, man to man. When this day is over, whichever way Allah wills it, let is not end the way of the last battle of our peoples. Let us treat each other’s men with the respect we two generals have shown each other today.”
Henry stared into the young generals’ eyes. He knows. He knows he is outclassed. He has not called me here to avoid battle. He has brought me here to plead for the lives of his men. Henry found himself admiring again the composed young Egyptian facing him.
“General, you are brave and honourable man. You have my word.”
As the Kaiser left the Egyptian camp, he cursed Dusan Kolar.
“What the hell were you doing, bringing me here? We are here to kill these people, not drink coffee with them!”
Dusan Kolar smiled quietly. “You may have been drinking, Sire, I have not. Look around you. Know your enemy.”
Damn it, thought Henry: Kolar’s made me look like an idiot again! Here we are, in the heart of the enemy camp before battle, seeing their every regiment, able to size up the opposition. This kind of intelligence is invaluable! Henry looked around at the seething mass of enemy soldiers readying themselves for war. Around General Ahmad’s tent, the bodyguards seemed covered in very heavy armour - even their horses were protected from head to toe by the heaviest coats of armour. Henry could even see catapults and trebuchets towering over the Egyptian tents. Henry noted all this with admiration, but then his eyes travelled further afield. As he travelled out of the camp, most of the Egyptian soldiers around seemed ill equipped, undrilled but with eyes that burned with a passion: young excitable Mutatawwi’a and fanatical Ghazis, grey haired Sudanese warriors and robed Bedouin cavalry. Many of the enemy were chanting or praying. In their devotion, Henry thought sadly, these are Manfred’s children, born under a different sky. The abundance of cloth and bronzed flesh stayed in Henry’s mind as he returned to his camp, to be greeted by serried ranks of heavily armoured knights. This was not going to be a battle, it was going to be a slaughter.
*****
“Now, Dietrich, I want you up on the heights on my right. Take the pavisse crossbowmen. We can’t allow the enemy to gain that ground. I can spare you a regiment of dismounted knights and one of spearmen, and you can take Jonas too.”
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Dietrich nodded. Henry embraced the old warhorse. No further instructions were necessary. Dietrich could be trusted to lead the right division as the situation dictated.
“Hans, you will be on the left flank, next to me. The Teutons will be on my right. The rest of the infantry will be formed up in column next to the spur under Dietrich’s heights. Put the crossbow militia in front, then the armoured sergeants, followed by the knights. The pilgrims can bring up the rear. Their numbers can add to an impression of strength, but I don’t want them anywhere near the enemy.”
Why do I want Hans so close to me? Henry wondered. Is it so I can protect him from danger? Or because I don’t trust him not to go charging off on his own?
“We will move the line forward until we are on the crest of the spur to the right, then we will take it from there.”
Henry could see Dietrich looking at him quizzically. Yes, not much of a plan, I know, God damn it, Henry thought in a fluster. But we will improvise.
Slowly, the German line shuffled forward, its deliberate step contrasting with the fleeting grace of a regiment of mercenary Turcopoles, who raced towards the Germans’ right. All four regiments of German crossbows targeted the horse archers, but their speed seemed to protect them from damage. In a flash, they were almost upon the crossbow militia, who ran backwards in disorder.
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From the heights above, Duke Dietrich watched the turcopoles in frustration. His pavisse crossbowmen seemed to be making no impression on the horse archers. But then the old Duke saw the enemy begin using a Cantabrian circle to protect themselves against missile fire.
“Jonas!” Dietrich roared. “Now we have them! Charge those heathen dogs!”
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In the centre of the German line, Henry’s attention had been fixed on the flamboyant turcopoles and only belatedly did he see a regiment of Egyptian archers coming racing forwards. Astonished by their audacity, Henry ordered his own escort to drive them off. Dusan Kolar looked at the Kaiser in incomprehension - he was abandoning command of the army now, before the battle had even started?
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The charge was badly botched - the Kaiser’s escort was on the right flank of the Egyptian archers and was not properly aligned for a charge. Moreover, the Egyptians were remarkably fleet footed, reaching the safety of their lines before the Kaiser’s men had come into contact. The Kaiser’s exhilaration turned to anxiety as in front of him loomed a fast moving mass of over a thousand Egyptian infantry.
“Pull back! Pull back!” he screamed, but in the roar of battle, it was hard for his frantic voice to reach the helmeted ears of his bodyguard.
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Over on the left of the German line, Hans had been left to face the second mercenary Turcopole regiment. All the crossbowmen were far away on the right or in the centre right of the line, so Hans and his slow moving escort were powerless against the fleet footed horse archers. Hans watched his father’s escort wheeling right to chase the Egyptian archers. He watched the arrows of the Turcopoles thud into the heavy armour of his men. The extra padding and horse armour would protect them for a while, but the young man was damned if he was going to let the enemy come up to his nose and start shooting. Hans ordered a charge to drive off the Turcopoles.
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Hans’s charge was, as he knew, an exercise in futility. The greater speed of the Turcopoles meant they could easily outpace their pursuers, and their skill with the bow meant that even flight did not put an end to the barrage they were able to lay on Hans’ men. However, the pursuit did put Hans behind the main enemy lines and so he was able to break off, about turn and crash into the enemy infantry approaching the German centre.
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In the centre of the battle, Henry had managed to extricate his bodyguard from the main body of the jihad with the loss of only one knight. But the situation was grim. General Ahmad clearly had no intention of leaving his men standing around and being shot down by the German crossbow bolts. His army was moving en masse towards the spur on the centre right on the German lines. There would be no time to for a missile duel. Henry began to realise with alarm how narrow his front line was - formed in a column, two regiments abreast. Hastily, he ordered the two regiments of dismounted knights to move alongside the two regiments of armoured spearmen. Even then, his frontage was less than half that of the enemy. With Hans gone from his left, his own escort in disorder, all that remained to hold his flank was a fine regiment of Teutonic knights. Reluctantly, Henry realised he had no choice but to order these sixty elite warriors forward, in a frontal attack on the central enemy mass of over a thousand fanatical warriors.
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When he gathered his own escort together, Henry ordered it back into the central melee. There was nothing for it now, but hard fighting: German iron against Egyptian cloth.
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On the right, from above the heights, Duke Dietrich watched the chaotic battle that had erupted in the centre of the German lines. His left division was about a third of the Reich’s forces, but its deployment had left it out of touch with the main conflagration.
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Dietrich roared at the men around him:
“Down and at them, men! The Kaiser needs us! Forward, for God’s sake! I have promised him my support! Would you make me a liar?”
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Over on the German left, the Turcopoles who had been harassing Hans observed his escort, locked in battle with the Egyptian infantry and decided to strike at their exposed rears. Hans, however, welcomed this chance to come to grips with those who had earlier been his tormentors and managed to successfully extricate his escort to face the enemy cavalry.
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Amidst the chaos of battle, Henry wondered if he had forgotten something. Hacking through the mass of Egyptian infantry was one thing, but surely there was more to it than this? And then he remembered - the heavily armoured men who had guarded General Ahmad. Come to think of it, where was Ahmad himself? Dusan Kolar seemed to read his Master’s mind and he pointed over to the centre left of the line. There, Henry could just make our a compact body of enemy horsemen emerging out of the mass of Egyptians.
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With alarm, Henry realised that his left flank was exposed. Hans was alone on the far left, now surrounded by Turcopoles and ghazis. Closer in the regiment of Teutons was holding back the tide of the enemy infantry but it could not endure forever. Already, the furthest left regiment of dismounted knights had been destroyed in the central melee, a dozen broken survivors running to the rear. General Ahmad was leading his heavily armoured, veteran band of cavalry straight to the weakest point of the German line.
“Crossbows - shoot them down! Escort - about left!” shouted Henry, taking his escort around to meet the enemy general “With me, men, with me! Ride! Ride!”
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Things were going better on the German right, as Dietrich’s cavalry cut its way deep into the flank of the Egyptian mass, reaching its war machines.
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The tide was beginning to turn. As Henry’s escort made their appearance on the centre left of the German lines, entire Egyptian regiments started to break. Barefoot warriors from Sudan, some old men with grey hair - others, slim boys - could not stand before the heavy horse and iron of the elite German knights.
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On the extreme left, Hans and his men had managed to see off the Turcopoles and were making short work of the Ghazis who stubbornly held on.
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Gradually, the Kaiser’s escort cut its way through the Egyptian lines until it was able to reach General Ahmad and his bodyguard. Although by convention it was a great honour to battle your opponent, hand to hand, Henry was rather glad that he was not the one to slay his honourable young opponent.
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With the death of their general, the will of the Egypt army began to sap. Henry led his men forward into the central mass of the enemy jihad, determined to break any regiments that resisted.
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“Forward! Forward! They won’t stand!” shouted Henry. “Bring forward the pilgrims too, come on! Don’t let them get away!”
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*****
After the battle, Dusan Kolar approached the Kaiser:
“Sire, about the prisoners. We have nearly 500 of them. What do you want done with them?”
Henry looked at Dusan wearily. Germany had lost over two hundred men, but numbers did not tell the full story. The quality of the men the Reich had lost was what mattered. Over 100 dismounted feudal knights and an entire regiment of Teutons. Dietrich would doubtless advise the Egyptians all be executed, as the Duke had done at Constantinople. There was a certain logic in that. Could the Reich afford to face these men again? To see another two hundred German knights slaughtered by waves of unarmoured fanatics? But no, there had been enough killing today. Ordering an execution was inconceivable. In his youth, the Kaiser might have released the prisoners, but that option was scarcely worth contemplating. The others on the Crusader Council would not understand. Henry looked back at Dusan, helplessly:
“What am I to do?”
Dusan stared at his master, a man physically and emotionally drained by the day’s battle. The pagan magician’s eyes sparkled and he said light-heartedly:
“Let God decide. Offer them for ransom. If God wills it, they will be free. If not,…”
Henry nodded heavily, so be it. Nearly 500 prisoners - what would such men be worth, Henry mused? When he later heard it was a scant four florins per man, the Kaiser was surprised at the low value of a man’s life. But that idle thought was of little consequence compared to the great relief the Kaiser felt at being able to honour his promise to the late Mahmoud Ahmad.
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The thin wind whipped twirling funnels of sand across the emptiness around him. One of the Byzantine guides had called them dust devils. Devils indeed. What else could live in a land disconnected from the Lord? Maximillian raised his visor and squinted at the horizon, or what he thought was the horizon. There was no color in these lands. The earth and sky alike were mottled shades of tan and brown, absent of life and virtue.
For several moments he stared, searching, but there was nothing to see. They had split away from Kaiser Henry’s main force of Crusaders over two weeks ago, but the Turkish Jihad had not yet been sighted. Without access to the great supply train that traveled with the main army, food and water was scarce. If they did not find a source of sustenance soon, men would begin to weaken and die.
Maximillian turned and looked at his companion. “The Lord is testing us, Otto. It is not enough that we bring force of arms to his Great City. We must be worthy of possessing the lands of Christ. I shall give thanks for the hardships we bear, for they serve to purify the souls of those who have taken up the Cross for baser reasons.”
Chancellor von Kassel opened his mouth to speak, but gust of wind blew sand in his face and his words turned into a fit of spitting and coughing. It didn’t matter, words were not necessary. “Thank you for coming, Otto. It is good to have a friend with me during these times. Sir Welf is a skilled and pious knight, but reverence has taken the place of friendship between us. I suppose it is so for many who did not know me in my youth. I threw off the shackles of sin long ago, but the memory of that taint is what keeps my soul pure and my loyalty to God alone. Those who do not know my past do not know who I am.”
Otto nodded. “I expect that Kaiser Henry has engaged the Egyptian Jihad by now. It is possible that we are all that remains of our glorious Crusade.”
All that remains. A curious thought, indeed. “If it is so, then it is because they failed the test of God.” The Chancellor did not respond. There was no need to. Maximillian knew his feelings about the Kaiser were obvious. Henry was a good man, to be sure, but he had fallen from the Light. Maximillian had hoped that by taking the cross Henry would come into greater communion with God, yet since their departure he had fallen further and further into sacrilege and heresy. He had mistaken earthly power for heavenly spirit. In his search for God, he looked only to the world around him, not the world within him. It was this failure of the soul that had led him to that pagan magician. A man that Henry mistook as a priest, but who was nothing more than a trickster and a charlatan. The years spent watching that man’s ‘miracles’ had given the Kaiser superstitions that some called silly. Maximillian called them heretical.
It had been nearly a month ago that he had decided to remove himself from the presence of the Corrupt. Perhaps Henry would succeed and the glory of the City of Christ would restore some piety to the fallen man, but Maximillian thought it more likely that he would lead them into doom. So, he had proposed to split off from the main army and save those who could be saved. From the fortress of Adana, he would spread true Christianity to these barren lands, creating a bastion of sanctity in a land of devilry. No matter what the fate of Henry’s soul, Christendom would be victorious.
A shout came from Maximillian’s left. He looked over to see one of his bodyguards pointing at the horizon. At first, he could see nothing but a blur, as if a green moss had covered the crest of a distant hill. Yet this moss was adorned with pennants and banners flying the unholy symbol of the Mohammedan horde. It was the Jihad.
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“God help us…” Otto gave voice to the thoughts of all who could see the battlefield. The Turks had positioned themselves at the top of a cliff which dominated a vast, sunken land. There they had assembled massive siege engines; catapults and ballistae which could hurl deadly projectiles deep into the valley. The Chancellor turned to him, “If we descend these slopes, we will never rise again.”
Maximillian galloped forward to get clear of the main body of men. When he was 50 yards in front, he stopped and surveyed the land. To the west was a ridge which spanned the depression. From there, the Turkish position could be approached without descending into the Valley of Death. He turned and galloped back to the lines. “Captains! On my march!” He turned west and raised his sword. The battle had begun.
It took only moments for the entire army to shift direction, a sidelong movement which became obvious to the infidels almost immediately. Whoever commanded there had prepared for just such an act. Maximillian could see the entire body of the Turkish force begin to move towards the western ridge. “Double speed! Captains! Get your men into position!”
As one, the entire Crusade army broke into a run. It took only a few minutes to reach the assembly point atop the ridge, but the Mohammedans had moved with devilish speed. A giant mass of men surged forward on the horizon. They would be on the Crusaders in moments. “Form up! FORM UP!”
The sun rose from the north that day; a glowing ball of fire ascending the sky. At first, Maximillian took it for a good omen, but as suddenly as it had appeared, the sun ceased its ascent and began to fall. As a body, the entire Crusade army stopped and looked up as the great ball of fire passed overhead.
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The flaming ball of pitch crashed down to Maximillian’s left.
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The army stood mesmerized by the sight, their formation stalled and their lines disorganized. The trance was broken as a second ball of pitch tore through the easternmost line of crossbowmen, barely missing Chancellor von Kassel’s bodyguard. Men screamed and flailed as they were covered in sticky, burning mass.
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“God help us.” There was no safe haven on the battlefield, no place they could take refuge from the artillery. Though the lines were not yet formed, Maximillian knew they had no choice. The only place the catapults would not fire was into their own lines. It was death by fire or death by blade. He lowered his visor. “CHARGE!”
As the Crusaders surged forward, the Turkish mob came forward to meet them. The main body clashed along the crest of the ridge, while the catapults continued to rain devilish fire on the line of crossbows which had remained in the rear. Maximillian moved to the left flank of the line, watching for breaks and encouraging his men. Otto rode with him. Suddenly, the Turkish lines parted and a mass of heavily armored horse charged straight into the German spears. A dozen men fell almost instantly. No orders were needed. Maximillian and the Chancellor moved in unison. Around the left flank they galloped, then reversed course and engaged the Turkish horse.
For several minutes, Maximillian knew nothing but battle. Ringing steel, shouts of pain, and screams of terror. His trance was broken as a fiery ball flew right into the middle of the engaged German spearmen. Either the Turkish artillerymen had superb aim, or they did not care about hitting their own men.
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“MY LORD! SIR MANDORF!” Maximillian turned and saw Sir Welf behind him. “A large mass of infantry is coming up out of the valley on our right. Hundreds of them! They will flank our line within minutes!”
Before he could respond, another ball of pitch exploded into the German lines, incinerating several spearmen at once
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The entire infantry line was already committed, the only men left to hold the flanks were the cavalry. If all four brigades moved to meet the flanking Turks, they would surely hold the line. But even with such a move, the catapults would continue to fire and the Crusaders would be decimated. “Sir Welf, tell the knights to hold back the right flank at all costs. AT ALL COSTS!”
The Teuton grinned broadly, pleased with the prospect of meeting the Infidel charge head-on. “NO! Not you, Sir Welf. You must take your Teutons around the left flank and deep into the enemy rear. You must stop the Turkish artillery before it kills us all!”
“My Lord, the two brigades of German knights will not be able to hold off hundreds of axemen on their own!”
Mandorf nodded. “Those who fall in the service of God shall live on forever at his side.” He crossed himself. “NOW GO!”
Maximillian turned back to the fight. Otto’s men had dropped many of the Turkish horsemen, pushing deep into their lines. Yet one man still stood his ground, his position surrounded by the fallen horses of half a dozen German knights. As Maximillian turned and galloped towards the Turkish general, the rain of fire continued.
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Mandorf’s gallop had drawn the attention of several nearby knights and spearmen. As a body, they turned and followed; moving as one, deep into the Turkish right flank. The infidel saw Mandorf’s approach and lifted a horn to his lips. A loud double note sounded, and at once a dozen armored horse pulled out of the main line and came galloping to his side. Maximillian lifted his sword and held it shoulder-high as he kicked his mount into a gallop towards the enemy. With a mighty swing, he brought the blade down onto the back of an engaged horseman. The man screamed as the blade cleaved his shoulder from his spine; his armor opened like a split berry.
Time seemed to slow. A lifetime passed in mere moments. Men fell on both sides and the ground was stained red with the blood of pious and heretic alike. Through it all, the enemy catapults continued to fire and Germans continued to burn.
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The prospect of flaming death was putting terror into the hearts of even the most valiant Crusaders. If Sir Welf did not silence the Turkish artillery soon, the line might break. On the right flank, the German knights held back the mass of flanking infantry, but they had paid a huge price. Two thirds of the men were down and the rest were being pushed back. As Mandorf watched, two more were pulled from their saddles.
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If they broke, the line would be flanked and the army would be destroyed. Yet there were no men to spare. Mandorf prayed. He parried a slicing cut by a curved sword. Flaming pitch crashed down into a group of horsemen to his right. Christian and Muslim alike were engulfed in writhing flames. “Lord above, hear my prayers! Deliver us from evil and spare our earthly forms so that we may spread your Truth!” He thrust his sword forward; sparks flew as it met sharpened steel. “GOD, GIVE ME STRENGTH!”
Mandorf threw aside his opponent and spurred his horse forward. A dozen paces ahead, the Turkish general saw him coming and lifted his sword to parry. When they impacted, the battlefield went silent. For a moment, it seemed as if all had stopped to watch the meeting of God and Devil. Yet, the mass around him still surged, swords still swung, and mouths still moved. The ringing sound of the impact had echoed through his helm and momentarily deafened him. As sound slowly returned to the world, Mandorf turned around and looked at the Turkish general. He lay on the ground, his head cut cleanly from his body; his sword broken in two at the spot it had met Maximillian’s. The Crusader looked at his own blade. It was unmarked. It had cleaved through watered steel, armor, flesh, and bone, and it had not so much as a nick about it.
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“The Lord is with us.”
As if in agreement, a sea of shining armor appeared over the crest of the ridge far to the north. The Teutons had arrived.
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With the Mohammedan commander fallen and the artillery captured, the Turkish morale broke. The main line crumbled as the men turned to flee. Mandorf rode them down as Chancellor von Kassel led three regiments of spearmen to the aid of the knights. With their army broken and the force of numbers no longer on their side, they broke as well.
“We have won!”
Maximillian turned to see Sir Welf breathing heavily, his horse sweating profusely. “Yes, but we are not done.” He gestured towards the mass of fleeing men. “Capture them all.” The Teutons joined Chancellor von Kassel and the remnants of the German knights as they chased the routers into the valley. None of the infidels escaped.
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…
Two hours later, Sir Welf returned. “It is done my Lord. We have captured over 700 of the Mohammedan soldiers; nearly three-quarters of their strength! They had a great supply train as well. We have more than enough food and water to reach Adana. What do you wish done with the prisoners?”
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Mandorf looked over at the crowd of disarmed men, surrounded by a ring of German steel. “They are the servants of the Devil. We must make an example of them.” He dismounted and took off his helmet. As he strode towards the captured army, he drew his sword. Its unmarked face glittered in the fading light.
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...
One week later, the Crusade approached the fortress of Adana. Word of the defeat of the Turkish Jihad had not reached the stronghold, as no one had survived to report it. The place was nearly empty of soldiers, all having been called away in service of the Devil. The Turkish Crown Prince was the only significant fighting force present, supervising the construction of yet more artillery to use against Christian sons.
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The reduced garrison did not even notice when a German spy slipped inside the walls and opened the gates. A group of engineers was pushing a pair of ballistae along the wall road when the mass of German knights entered the fortress. The Teutons spread out into the town as Maximillian’s own men put the artillerymen to the sword.
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When the infantry entered, the Crown Prince made a valiant charge into the sea of spears. His death was quick.
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Mandorf turned to survey his new holding. It was a mighty fortress with a double-ringed wall of immense thickness. Within its confines was sufficient space to train many armies of holy Christian warriors. “Yes, this will do nicely.” He turned to a nearby sergeant. “Find all Mohammedan priests and put them to the sword. Strip their temples bare, melt down their holy symbols, and then tear the structures down to the foundations. Tell those who live here that they can renounce their devil worship or they can die.”
Maximillian Mandorf knelt to pray.
Christianity had arrived in the Holy Lands.
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Dijon , 1188.
A building crumbled to the ground, as loud voices rounded the corner. Peasents brandishing picthed forks were yelling and screaming, burning houses.
But quickly there was a trotting of feet, and a unit of Knights appeared,
'Move along you scum, burning your own bloody houses!' spat one Knight, and was stabbed by a nearby Peasent, whos head was quickly chopped off. More Knights arrived, lower class ones.
They clapped their swords against their shields, yelling and roaring, sometimes killing, untill quickly it was over. The peasents ran away, yelliing, or simply bleed on the ground.
The higher class knights trotted off to the City Centre, while the others stayed behind, policeing the area.
The higher classed knights leader coughed, his throat full of smoke,
'Those bloody peasent scum are getting worse, should slaughter them next time' he spat.
'We shall not and can not, as Prinz Jobst as ordered so'
'But what diffrence will he make!?' one said thickly through his helmet.
'A lot, as the peasents are much more obidient when mein prinz is here' one said, and they all murmured in agreement. But there was one fact they couldn't avoid, Dijon was restless, and rioting, and Jobst was far away dealing with, others....
****
The other side of the mountains of Staufen , 1188.
'I wonder...'
'You wonder too much sir' said the captain, and Jobst laughed.
'At least I am using my brain when I wonder!' said Jobst ,and both men laughed, but the laugh was short lived, as both mens faces dipped back into anxious looks, as battle lay ahead.
'I was going to say how I wonder Dijon is... I hope the lower classes are not problematic' said Jobst thoughtfully, Jobst's Second in command, Fritz, did not wish to tell him of the letter the he had received the day before, clearly outlining and pleading for Jobst to come back and install control, but this would only worry Jobst, especially as - 'And I also hope Heidindrudis is okay' muttered Jobst, Heidindrudis was Jobst's wife, Heidindrudis von Salza.
While the two men sat in thought in the command tent, a messenger came riding swiftly into the armies camp, demanding Prinz Jobst. At once a Knight of Jobst's Bodyguardcame walking into the command tent, bearing a message, from several sources.
'Sir, we have several messages here' said the Knight, fingering through them.
'One from your wife, a couple from military leaders stating about the Crusade, and other places' finished the Knight, kneeling down and handing Jobst the messages, Jobst clapped him on the shoulder,
'Good man, now you go off and prepare for the battle ahead' said Jobst, and the Knight rushed out. Jobst then ripped open the letters eagerly, wanting infomation from the outside world. One was about the capture of Adanna near the Holy Land, one of the capture and sacking of Marseilles, and one about the stae of the Diet, which some Councillers were disproving of. But one thing bugged Jobst -
'NO Bloody letters from Ulrich or Friedrich! I want to bloody hear from them, or I shall speak to them myself!!!' roared Jobst, and the area outside of the tent went quiet. A Knight rushed in,
'Is everything all right sir?' he asked, he knew everything was all right, but it was his obligation to ask.
'Yes Franz, yes' said Jobst, looking at the ground, the Knight withdrew. And silence resumed until;
'Aren't you scared sir?' asked Fritz.
'No I am not Fritz, as eventually we all die, in battle or near loved ones' Jobst said.
'But it is a strange world Fritz' whispered Jobst,
'How mein prinz?' asked Fritz.
'We enter this cruel world crying, smiling faces around us, we leave the world smiling, with crying faces around us' said Jobst. Fritz took this in, and thought on it.
'PRINZ JOBST! MEIN PRINZ!' yelled someone outside, Jobst stood up, and was wearing all his armor, full plate armor. He rushed outside,
'Yes?' Jobst said inquirelny, someone nearly ran into him, but halted , and bowed.
'Battle Awaits!' muttered the person.
"Excellent, EVERYONE! TO ASSIGNED FORMATIONS!' roared Jobst, and the camp blew up with movement, as hundreds of soldiers moved forward, stumbling, cursing and swearing as the tripped over. But eventually they were no longer a rablle, but a army. Jobst was mounted on his horse, and him and his 44-strong bodyguard moved forward.
'Crossbows, move forward and engage enemy ranged units!' yelled Fritz. As their pasive crossbowmen and peasent crossbowmen marched forward, and loaded. But before the could fire, several fell, and many saw bolts sticking from them. Eventually there was a full on skirmish, the air full of crossbow bolts. But the losses were getting worse.
'Infantry and Cavarly move forward and prepare to engage' yelled Fritz, who then turned to Jobst.
'Mein Prinz, do you wish for the bodyguard to engage?' asked Fritz, Jobst nodded, and Fritz prepared to yell orders. But Jobst put a hand on his shoulder,
'Not staright forward Fritz, we're going around them' smiled Jobst,
'Again sir? They can't be thst thick to fall for the sneak trick again!' laughed Fritz. Jobst smiled grimmly.
'We're not going for the peasents, we're going for that 120 unit of Swiss Pikemen.' said Jobst, nodding ahead. And so they did, as they rode out towards the mountains. menwhile the soldiers at the battlefield had stopped,
'mein prinz is abandoning us!' cried some, but others were more confident.
'He'll be back' they muttered, and so he was, as the 44 strong unit appeared 10 minutes later, except behind the enemy. The commanders unit of Swiss Pikemen panicked.
'Turn around, turn around' he yelled in French. But the trumpets of the Swabian House blared, and the bodyguard unit was there, and at once a unit with 120 pikemen were shortened to 10, and they tried to run, but ALL were killed.
'YES!!! THAT"LL TEACH 'EM!' roared Jobst, and the rest roared their uttermost agreement. Soon the whole enemy army was dead, all 400 gone, bleeding to death on the German Lands of the Reich. Jobst, grinned, another bloody good battle.
***
A few weeks later a letter arrived at Dijon, addressed for Heidindrudis von Salza. She eagerly received the letter, and was estatic to see it was from Jobst. She ripped the letter open and read it;
Dear Heidindrudis,
I am returning at once to Dijon, as my second in command,Fritz, told me of your situation today, I am dearly sorry for not responding to your other messages, as I am busy dealing with rebel scum.
I know your woried about the battle, but its over. With our 400 (estimated) troops against their 400, we killed every single one, leaving none alive.
I shall be back in less then a year, until then, take care.
From Prinz Jobst,
Count of Dijon,
Third Elector of Swabia,
End of Report
The Battle South of Acre, 1192
News of a Egyptian relief force on its way north to Acre reached Otto from the agent in the castle. With Count Hans having besieged the fortress, and the Kaiser overseeing the final preparations for the move on Jerusalem, Otto decided to take much of the Crusade south around Acre and intercept the large Egyptian force. They seek to break the siege, Otto thought, or to help in the event of Hans's attack, but I'm not going to give them that opportunity. I will destroy them so that our way to Jerusalem will be clear.
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Coming out of the hills from the east, the Crusade caught the Egyptians on the road to Acre. Squinting into the setting sun, Otto saw trebuchets and catapults turning toward his forces as the Saracens redeployed to face the unexpected threat. A shiver ran down his spine, he remembered the terrible damage the wooden monsters had inflicted on the Crusade when he had fought side by side with Maximillian against the Turks at Adana. They must be our first target, I will not have my men suffer under a constant barrage.
Making up his mind, Otto ordered the deployment of his army. The infantry was to deploy in a line. The crossbowmen would also be in a line behind them. Taking advanatge of the slope of the hill, they would be able to fire in a flat trajectory without endangering the men in front. The cavalry would be in column on the right.
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The infantry were ordered forward a bit to counter the Egyptian deployment, while the crossbrowmen stayed on the ridge of the hill. Otto, among the cavalry, ordered the column forward. If they respond to the flanking manuever with their horse archers, I'll charge them. If it's infantry, I'll bring up my own. If they choose to ignore us, then we shall see how their dread machines stand up to Imperial lance and sword.
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The Saracen horse archers and bowmen advanced to skirmish with the Imperial infantry, with their spearmen following behind. Ordering his men to a trot, Otto smiled, the fools were ignoring his cavalry, a terrible mistake. Soon the column had redeployed to a line abreast facing the artillery.
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Otto could see the machines firing at his infantry, but due to the hill their aim was off. Still some of his Crusaders were falling, and the infantry lines were about to meet. Time to gut them.
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With Otto and the mailed Knight charging the catapults, Jonas von Mahren and the Teutons rushed the trebuchets.
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There would be no more artillery fire.
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The Saracen infantry, already outclassed by the Imperial footmen, now faced the prospect of an attack from the rear. They broke and were pursued.
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Captain Youseff and the Mamluk horse archers tried to stem the tide, but they broke as well. The Captain was eventually run down by the mailed knights.
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After the battle, Otto could not help but feel satisifed. The infidels were routed, none of them would trouble the Reich again and he had been able to leave behind the duties of Chancellor for a time. It was good to lead men in battle again.
The Butcher's Bill:
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The Fall of Acre, 1192
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Hans surveyed the fortress that lay before him. So that is Acre, he thought to himself. The walls that rose in front of him did not seem as imposing as the spy had reported, but nonetheless it was defended. A heathen noble had taken refuge inside, unable to support his unholy kindred that were battling just south of Hans' position with the chancellor. As such, it was left to Hans to take Acre while the reinforcements were delayed, and he had to do so swiftly.
He gave a short speech to incite the men to battle and immediately ordered them forward towards the gate, which the spy had reportedly opened. He could only hope that this was true and there would be no surprises.
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As he advanced, he noticed how the heathens had only manned the left section of the wall. It would certainly cost some Imperial lives he thought to himself. Lives, that were his to protect, as he was the commanding general with whom lay the responsibility.
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As such, Hans was glad when he saw the Egyptian spearmen disappear from the walls only to withdraw further inward. Could it be true? Was the enemy abandoning the battlements?
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When the gates opened before him, he was still in disbelief at such a bland tactical error on side of the enemy general, and it seemed that just in that moment the noble must have realized his mistake and his bodyguard advanced back towards the gate.
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It was too late however, as Hans had quickly ordered his bodyguard to stand to the left of the gate, his swordsmen to the right and the spears in the center, breaking the approaching heathens swiftly and removing their leader from command.
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As the general fell from his horse, Hans pushed his bodyguard forward into the masses of the heathen horde, striking about him with god-given fury, breaking their morale and chasing them towards their last stand.
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As he approached the castle square, Hans noticed how several spearmen regiments, who had been resting there advanced out towards him. Quickly he ordered his men to stand ground and his tired own spearmen forward to stop the advance while sending his groups of religious fanatics around the other side to strike the enemy in the rear.
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As Hans noticed the enemy spears starting to waver and holes opening in their formation, he ordered his bodyguard forward into the horde of spears. His gamble was successful and the spears quickly dissipated and broke.
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Riding with haste, he managed to slay several before they were able to reach the castle square, where they bravely made their last stand, catching several of Hans' entourage offguard and unhorsing them. Driving his men further onward against the enemy spears, Hans ordered a regiment of crusaders to break through the enemy lines at high cost to grant a third route of attack. Again, his gamble paid off and the enemy spears started to get distracted from three side now, as the fanatics closed in.
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Within minutes, the battle was won and Hans bloodied all over. A strange feeling overcame him as he gazed upong the pile of bodies that his horse strode on and his sword, which bore the blood of countless heathens he had slain today. With some shock, he realized he took a liking to fighting at the frontline to save the lives of as many men as he could, and after the battle, he was informed that he must have slain over 100 men. It did however take the lives of his personal entourage, mostly men he did not know much about, save Adalberth, who smiled upon the reckless young noble after his first victory.
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Once the celebration died down on the field, Hans quickly ordered his men to take from the heathens whatever they wished and to strip all buildings of religious items that did not resemble those of the catholic church. He would see to Acre being christianized and its populace brought into the fold.
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Battle in Southern Austria, 1192:
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Leopold surveyed the battlefield in front of him. He despised rebels. It was not that he could sympathize with their dedication to take up arms to enforce their goals, but he despised their stupidity, their zealousness. Taking up arms was all fine, but not layint them down when faced with a superior fighting forde that will crush you just bordered insanity. Those rebels had come today to fight unitl death and death they should receive.
Leopold set his troops up in a defensive position, preparing a slow and ordered advance to the rise occupied by the Rebel forces. Driven by their zeal however the Rebels decided to charge into Leopolds superior forces, which he quickly reorganized into a defensive position.
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The initial assault was devastating to the attackers as more and more Armoured Sergeants swarmed over the enemies on all sides. Leopold glanced quickly to the right wing where Rainer, his trusted friend had taken command of his cavalry and was slowly moving towards the enemies flank. The only nuisance were the Hussite Crossbowmen whose bolts had caused considerable damage to Leopolds troops. Giving Rainer some more minutes to get into position Leopold finally raises his sword to call the charge.
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Driving his enemies before him, while the bolts of his Crossbowmen take their deadly toll around them, Leopold erupts in dark laugther as one after another fleeing Rebel falls to his sword. They had asked for death and he was delivering.
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Placeholder for the battle of Breslau, both of them.
:balloon2:
The Capture of Jerusalem, 1194
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Kaiser Henry turned surprised to Chancellor Otto: “A relief army? I never expected this would be a real battle.”
Otto shrugged his shoulders: “A few regiments of spearmen and siege engines - they are no real threat to us, Sire.”
Henry nodded and studied the map thoughtfully. “Very well, I’ll take some crusader sergeants through the front gates and evict that ridiculous Egyptian governor. Chancellor, I would be indebted to you if you would command the bulk of our forces and see off the relief army. Your tactics were so exemplary at Acre, I see no reason why you should not demonstrate them again.”
The Chancellor bowed and then left, with Hans and Jonas following eagerly behind.
As the knights left, Dusan Kolar emerged from the shadow. Henry looked up fleetingly at the tall black cloaked figure and then returned to staring at the map.
“You did not tell them.” Dusan observed.
The Kaiser rolled up the map impatiently. “I have already advised the Chancellor of my intentions regarding Jerusalem. The fact that he chose me to command this assault suggests he can abide by them.”
Dusan snorted. “He could hardly deny you, the Kaiser, the right to be in at the end of this “glorious crusade””
Henry looked up angrily: “Now look here, I am becoming sick of your sarcasm and insinuations. We came here to return Jerusalem to the Pope and that is what we will do.”
Dusan nodded and raised an eyebrow. “But you are keeping the Chancellor, the other Counts and most of your “crusaders” away from the city, just in case they do not share your vision?”
“Jonas is a model of chivalry: even you with all your cynicism cannot fail to be impressed by that. I trust him completely. Otto too is a good man.” Henry paused, deliberately omitting to mention Hans. “But our men are tired and excited; I cannot vouch for how they will behave when they are finally in the holy city. I do not want it desecrated by the blood of innocents. I will take a few good men into the city. After we have turfed out the governor, Jonas will talk to the city council. We will arrange a bloodless occupation. But yes, you are right - by distracting our men, the relief army has made that job easier.”
“You are making a mistake.” said Dusan. Henry ignored him, so the pagan magician continued. “Jerusalem is a large city. If you sacked it, it could give you 20,000 florins. Will the Diet understand your abstemiousness? And if you show mercy now, will the local people respect you? Or see you as weak?”
Henry turned his back on Dusan, so the magician added after a pause:
“Weak, like your father always said you were.”
Henry spun round and advanced angrily on a smiling Dusan.
“Remember your position, Kolar! You are not indispensable.”
“Get rid of me, Kaiser? Would that be strictly legal? Is it not against your precious charter, or something?”
Henry looked at Dusan vindictively: “There are men in the Reich who would be glad to see you gone: Maximillan, for example, who you drove away to rot in Adana. If asked Maximillan or, maybe Hans, I am sure they would be happy to arrange for you to be removed.”
The smile was gone from Dusan’s face now: “Sire, you have lost your way again. You came here for a reason - to begin the transformation of the Reich into a power that dominates Europe and the Mediterranean as the Roman Empire did of old. But with your holier than thou attitude and squeamishness over shedding blood, you have forgotten how the old Romans subdued Jerusalem."
Dusan paused for effect, then said emphatically:
"You will learn.”
With that he left the room. The doleful eyes of Ernest, the Kaiser's dog followed Dusan out of the room. Henry looked down at Ernst sadly and muttered: “I’ve never understood what you see in that man.”
*****
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Kurt Altman was proud to ride into battle with the Chancellor. Although Altman was a veteran warrior, this was his first day serving with the Chancellor's bodyguard. Disease and casualties were taking a toll amongst the crusaders. Those experienced soldiers like Kurt who survived the ordeals of the crusade often found opportunities for advancement.
Like most Germans on the crusade, after the departure of Dietrich, Kurt recognised Duke Otto as the finest general in the army. To face the spearmen and war machines of the Egyptian relief army, Duke Otto had arranged his army in a similar formation to that used outside Acre. Jonas and the remnants of the mailed knights were on the right flank; Hans and the Teutons on the left. The centre was held by the unhorsed and dismounted knights, flanked by fanatics and screened by a regiment of pavisse crossbowmen.
Kurt immediately understood his general’s battle plan: hit the siege engines at the rear with the cavalry while the heavy infantry engaged the Saracens frontally. Otto himself stood in reserve behind the front line, positioned to best control the course of the battle. Unlike the over-eager Kaiser, Kurt was sure, Otto was one general who would not go gallivanting off into the enemy line as soon as the battle opened.
Kurt looked confidently over at his general, but was alarmed to see Otto peering anxiously at the approaching Egyptian relief army.
“Sire?” asked Kurt, wondering what on earth could unnerve his general at this early stage of the battle.
The Chancellor looked sharply at Kurt, taking in his white hairs and gnarled skin: “You, man, are your eyes still good?”
Kurt smiled: “Sire, the captain of your guard does not let in blind men to be your bodyguards.”
Despite his evident anxiety, Otto smiled: “Very well. Tell me, what do you see there, in the Egyptian lines? Right at the back, behind the archers, behind the spear line, behind the siege engines.”
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Kurt squinted. “It looks like … looks like a regiment of Saracens, Sire; on foot, with lances.”
Otto asked intensely: “Is it moving?”
“No, Sire, they are just standing there while the war engines prepare to fire. I think they are guarding them, Sire.”
The Chancellor shook his head admiringly: “They are learning, by God, they are learning.”
One of his aides stepped up: “Shall I call off the cavalry, Sire?”
Otto held up his hand. “No, by God, we cannot stand here under their fire and slug it out with them frontally. The cavalry go in. The Egyptians have got another thing coming if they think one regiment of foot can stop our knights.”
*****
Kurt watched the cavalry move in, riding hard. He could see Jonas detach the regiment of mailed knights to take a small group of Saracens in the flank…
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…while along the front line, the German infantry moved to intercept the Egyptians marching to relieve Jerusalem:
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In the distance, Kurt could see Jonas’s bodyguard crash into the Egyptian war machines.
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The veteran warrior watched in admiration as Jonas artfully disengaged his men but then plunged them back into the fray:
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Kurt’s eyes returned to the struggle nearer at hand. Otto was signalling to a band of fanatics to move up alongside Jonas’s mailed knights and begin to turn the enemy’s left flank:
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In the distance, Kurt could make out Hans charging into the right flank of the enemy artillery park. A double envelopment, Kurt thought admiringly, why couldn’t the Kaiser try something like this outside Adana?
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Just as Kurt was getting comfortable, admiring the way the battle was unfolding in such an ordered, favourable manner, he heard the Chancellor call out:
“Charge!”
What?! The Chancellor was directing his bodyguard towards some enemy archers skirmishing in the Egyptian front lines! This was just like what the Kaiser did at Adana - what was it about noblemen and archers? They only have to see one to want to run them down! Must be something “unchivalrous” about a peasant shooting down a knight.
Kurt spurred his horse to follow the Chancellor. One thing Kurt knew from long experience was that a cavalry charge seldom stops at its intended target, especially when led by a high lord such as Duke Otto. The discipline the Lords expected of their underlings seldom seemed to be applicable to themselves. Soon, Otto’s bodyguard were fighting in the middle of the enemy front line, amid the lances of the Saracen foot. Kurt looked in alarm as he spotted Otto surrounded by a sea of enemy spears…
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Oh my God, thought Kurt, oh my God - my first day on his bodyguard and I am going to see the Chancellor get himself killed. Christ Almighty, the Kaiser will never forgive me! The veteran warrior spurred his horse into the mass of the Egyptian foot, hacking and slashing, desperately trying to reach the isolated Chancellor.
But when Kurt finally reached the Chancellor, he saw him laughing, casually striking blows left and right. Then Kurt looked at the Egyptians milling around them - the fight had gone out of them. While the many enemy infantry could have easily unhorsed the two German knights, the only thought of the Egyptians was to get away from them, from the battle. It was over.
*****
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Kurt later learnt that the Kaiser’s entry into Jerusalem had been uneventful. The Egyptian governor had attempted to stop the crusaders in the narrow city streets. But the Germans had simply formed schiltron and the governor’s mounted bodyguard was quickly despatched.
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After the battle, the Chancellor warmly thanked Kurt for his keen eyes and for his coming to his master’s assistance, even if it was not required.
“I have a special assignment for you.” The Chancellor said to Kurt. “The Kaiser has ordered a Teutonic knight to join the retinue of every crusading general here in Jerusalem. I want to return the favour - I want you to join the Kaiser’s bodyguard.”
Kurt bowed deeply, rendered speechless by the honour. As the pair approached the Kaiser, sitting in the main hall of the palace of Jerusalem, the Chancellor discretely pointed out one of the courtiers, a tall commanding figure with a long black cloak:
“There is one man in particular I want you to keep an eye on….”
*****
The butcher's bill:
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OOC: For OK:
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The Battle North of Acre, 1196
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Otto looked down at the Egyptian force bathed in moonlight. "They're growing desperate Jonas. As soon as their men are trained they're sent against us, and without cavalry or bowmen."
Count von Mahren looked at the Chancellor impassively, "The sooner we kill them, the sooner I can take the first ship home. The Crusade is over, the Pope has Jerusalem and our work is done. I wish to see Franconia again."
Otto grimaced and rubbed the scar on his face. His body ached, new wounds and old ones were laced across it, testament to the hard fighting of the past few years. Sighing, Otto replied, "I understand your desire to return home, to rest. I too yearn to see the Alps again, to see snow in winter, but I would say our work here has just begun. We must defend Jerusalem and carve out a place for the Reich to do it. This is not the last army of infidels we will face."
Jonas grunted, unconvinced, "Maybe for you Chancellor, but it is for me. Now let's be done with it."
Otto shook his head and spit, "There's no challenge to this. We'll have our foot hold their line while the cavalry will take them in the flank and rear. An old trick, but I'll keep doing it until they learn."
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The lines closed on each other as the cavalry took up flanking positions. The lines met in a clash of metal.
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Then the cavalry took the Egyptians from behind, and the rout was on.
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The last man was brought down, none escaped.
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An offer of ransom was refused. The prisoners were put to the sword.
The Butcher's Bill:
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Now, for Otto the way was clear to Antioch, and for Jonas, home.
*placeholder*
The Battle of Antioch, 1200 AD: The Prelude
Captain Conrad watched the advance of the first and largest of the three Egyptian armies known to be marching on him. He had done his job. His raiding of the surrounds of Antioch had provoked the Egyptians to attack.
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“It is good ground.” he said, turning back to survey the land he had found for the approaching Imperial army to defend. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
*****
Henry looked coolly at Ulrich Hummel and Kurt Altman: “So, we come to it: the climatic battle for Outremer.”
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Ulrich nodded impatiently. Henry smiled: a young man in a hurry. Me, thought Henry, I don’t have many years left for war. I am going to savour this. All my life I have lived under the shadow of my overbearing father. Now, I have a few brief years as Chancellor to make a difference and then I must slink back to the shadows. This is my hour.
Kurt looked at Henry guardedly - why are we here? - he wanted to ask. Why fight three Egyptian armies at once, when you could take them apart one by one? Why strike Antioch when you ordered Ulrich to clear the path to Aleppo at such great cost? When your plan was supposed to be convert Antioch first and then occupy it to the acclaim of its born again Christian population? Do you even know why you are here? But Kurt was a soldier and Henry was a King. He remained silent.
Henry held Ulrich by the shoulders: “I am so glad you are here, at my side. To come all this way from France to serve, to atone: it is an inspiration to us all. You will take the position of honour at the centre of our lines. You will command if I am out of contact. You will be our last reserve: if all fails, you must be the one to salvage things. Can I count on you?”
UIrich looked fiercely back at the Kaiser: “Do you need to ask?”
Henry embraced the ex-Duke and then spoke to both men. “This is to be our deployment. Captain Conrad has found us a fine hill; we will make good use of it. The front line will be our crossbowmen. I want them to have an unimpeded shot at the enemy.”
Kurt frowned, but the Kaiser did not notice.
“Behind them - our main battleline; sergeants and foot knights intermingled. They should be able to take anything the Saracens can throw at them. Place the fanatics on the flanks behind them. The mailed knights will be on the right flank; I will take the left. One regiment of turcopoles will occupy advanced positions on each flank. Any questions?”
Kurt watched Ulrich, wondered if he would require more details - want to know “the plan”. But in this kind of situation, there could be no plan. One merely had to endure and improvise. Ulrich was too shrewd a commander and merely shook his head.
“Good hunting, gentlemen.” said Henry.
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The Battle of Antioch, 1200 AD: The First Wave
“Are they going to move?” Horst Mueller, the Teuton, inquired anxiously of Kurt Altman.
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Kurt shrugged and looked at Henry. Damn it, thought Henry. They are waiting. They are waiting for the other two armies. If they do that, the odds against us worsen dramatically.
“Are they going to move?” Horst repeated. Kurt threw him a withering look.
Henry could not afford to wait. Every minute brought the other two armies closer. He had to act now.
“Advance!” he shouted.
“Bloody hell!” exclaimed Horst. “I thought we were supposed to be the defenders!”
“This was a nice hill. I liked this hill.” said Dirk Freihafen, a bear of a man and one of the Kaiser’s most trusted bodyguards.
“Shut up, you fools. You sound like a pair of old women.” Kurt snapped. Wait - what was that? Kurt’s keen eyes had picked out something in the lines below - a ripple. Movement! “Sire!” Kurt shouted out and now Henry had seen it too. Praise be!
“Halt!” shouted Henry and he smiled broadly at Kurt. “We stick to the plan.”
“What plan?” whispered Dirk into Kurt’s ear, but the veteran warrior discretely elbowed him in the stomach.
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*****
Kurt watched the enemy advance - slowly, methodically. The missile superiority of the Germans was largely irrelevant, as the German crossbowmen concentrated their fire on the skirmishing Egyptian archers closest to them. This was most unfortunate for the two regiments of Egyptian archers, but they were serving their purpose: the dense rows of Saracen spearmen would arrive at the Imperial lines largely unharmed.
Oh God, here it comes. What Kurt feared was happening - breaking through the lines of Saracen militia came the Egyptian cavalry. And they were heading straight for the German crossbowmen at the front of the Imperial line.
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“Send forward the spears! The spears! Forward, NOW!” Kurt screamed at his aides. He cast a sideways glance at Henry, how could you not see this coming? Kurt saw lines of worry deepen across the Kaiser’s brow. The German crossbowmen were retiring, but in a race a man in chain mail carrying a pavise on his back was no match for an Arabian horse.
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The Kaiser cast a quick look at Kurt - their eyes met and the Kaiser knew, knew that Kurt had anticipated this. You knew this and you did not warn me? The two men turned away from each other. There was no time for recriminations. The pavise crossbowmen in front of them were also scattering - this time fleeing from the Saracen militia. The spearmen would soon be upon Henry’s own escort.
“Ride! To the left, ride!” Henry barked and his bodyguard spurred forward, evading the pursuing Saracen spears and racing round one flank of the attacking Egyptian army.
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On the opposite side of the German line, the enemy had made contact sooner and the superiority of the more heavily armoured Imperial infantry began to tell. The Saracen militia broke. Ulrich nodded coolly to the mailed knights on his left flank. “Now is your time.”
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Ulrich watched with satisfaction as the Egyptian left started to crumble. But to the rear, he saw a regiment of Mameluks advancing in wedge formation. Fortunately, the mailed knights knew what to do: meet them head on.
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Ulrich knew the outcome would be bloody, but the Mameluks had to be neutralised. All along the line, battle raged. Ulrich’s own small escort was the only German unit not engaged. The young general felt an urge to join the action, but his duty was clear - he had to maintain control of the battle.
Over on the left of the Imperial line, Henry had manoeuvred his escort to the rear of the Saracen flank. Impatiently, he spurred it to attack. His target was a regiment of Saracen militia, facing his horse with their spears.
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Kurt Altman hacked and thrust at the stubborn Egyptian infantry around him. This was not smart, not smart at all. Where was the German infantry that should have pinned down the Saracens frontally, allowing the German cavalry to rout them easily? In desperation, Kurt broke loose and yelled at the nearby German crossbowmen to fire into the melee, aiming for the backs of the Saracen infantry. As the Saracen spears thrust at the stationary knight’s horses, Kurt yelled at Henry in exasperation:
“Kaiser, this is madness! Pull us out of here!”
Henry looked at Kurt and remembered their earlier glance, and all that had gone unsaid with it. He saluted his veteran warrior and roared:
“Disengage! Men, pull back!”
The Kaiser’s escort was just completing their disengagement when a fiery ball crashed into the remnants of the melee. It was too much for the Saracen militia, to be charged by an Emperor’s guard and then fireballed by their own side - they fled. So, I am not the only one to order my men to fire into a melee? thought Kurt, savouring the sense of the schaudenfreude.
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The rest of the battle against the first wave of Egyptians degenerated into a pursuit.
The Battle of Antioch, 1200 AD: The Second and Third Waves
The second army of Egyptians to attack was the smallest of the three and for some reason, it came on alone - not waiting for the other army to provide support.
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After the pursuit of the defeated first Egyptian army, Henry and Ulrich re-established their hill top defence.
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“Make sure the crossbowmen are in the second line.” Kurt said gently to Horst Mueller, the Teuton, careful that the Kaiser could not hear him.
Kurt watched in quiet satisfaction as once again, Egyptian cavalry broke from the centre to charge the German line. This time the Germans were ready for them and the Egyptians charged straight for a braced line of crusader sergeants.
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But on the left, the Egyptian advance was more dangerous as their general charged his escort into Captain Conrad’s turcopoles.
“Damn it, I thought they were supposed to know how to skirmish!” cursed Henry. “Come on lads, let’s help them out!”
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After the death of their general, the second wave of Egyptians was quickly despatched. This time, however, the German pursuit had to be called off prematurely as the third and final Egyptian army approached.
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Henry looked at the Egyptian deployment - four regiments of Mameluk horse archers were on the right; the infantry and general were on the left. The Egyptians formed up, in a neat, well ordered deployment. And halted.
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They know, thought Henry, they know they cannot win. They are not coming. I can’t let them get away - not after all this. This is to be my great victory - I cannot leave it half done.
“Onwards! Germans, onwards!” Henry cried out. “Spears and crossbowmen - make for the horse archers. The rest - forward!”
“Oh bugger” muttered Dirk. “I really did like that hill.”
Kurt shot him another withering look. The Egyptians remained stationary as the German infantry approached the bottom of the hill. Then two regiments of Mameluk archers approached.
“Halt!” shouted Henry and he waited for the crossbow fire to start up.
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When the crossbowmen had despatched the two advanced regiments of Mameluk archers, the rest of the Egyptian line approached. On the German right, the main body of the third Egyptian army charged home, led by their cavalry.
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As a bitter struggle erupted on the German right, the two remaining Mameluk horse archer regiments started to make Cantabrian circles on the German left.
Oh no, you don’t! thought Henry and he ordered his escort to charge the Mameluks.
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The Mameluks battled bravely with the German knights and for a moment, Dirk was alarmed to see his Kaiser, alone surrounded by mace wielding Egyptian horsemen. Not now, not after all this, thought Henry’s bodyguard in alarm.
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Then Dirk noticed the Mameluks rushing the Kaiser were not attacking him, but fleeing past him. Dirk raised a mailed fist at the fleeing horse archers, but then heard Kurt cry out:
“Behind you! Look behind you!”
Dirk slowly turned in the saddle: “You have got to be joking…”
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At the same time, Henry saw the elite heavy cavalry of the last Egyptian army charging towards him. He felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. The battle was almost over and yet here he was, in the gravest peril of the whole day.
“Around and at ‘em lads! Meet them head on!” he shouted.
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Kurt saw the Kaiser push forward, sword point downwards, pushing into the melee. He called out to some nearby Crusader sergeants to aide them, but the Egyptians fought like devils. The day lost, it was clear the enemy general was determined to go down fighting - and take the Kaiser with him if he could. To lose a battle but kill the enemy King? Now that was a fair trade, thought Kurt bitterly. He looked at the melee - incredibly, the Egyptians were gaining the upper hand. The Crusader sergeants lost hope and ran. No, thought Kurt, this can’t be happening - not today, not after all this.
Kurt charged into the melee and found a tall German knight, a fearsome, grizzled brute of a man who was tasked with carrying the Kaiser’s shield on ceremonial duties.
“You, there!” Kurt shouted at the shieldbearer: “The Kaiser is in danger - grab the reigns of his horse and get him out of here!”
The shieldbearer’s dull eyes alighted on Kurt’s and the man grunted. He pushed into the melee, unceremoniously seized the reigns on the Kaiser’s horse and smacked it with the blade of his sword, to startle it out into a run. As the pair rode off, Kurt signalled for the rest of the Kaiser’s escort to retreat. As they raced away from the victorious Egyptian cavalry, they approached the many regiments of German crossbows that had earlier been ordered to engage the Mameluk cavalry. Kurt turned back to see the Egyptian heavy cavalry in pursuit, so he called out to the surrounding crossbowmen.
“Stand fast! Any man moves an inch backwards and I swear, I will cut him down myself!”
Slowly the crossbowmen cranked up their bows and levelled them at the approaching Egyptians.
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As the massed heavy crossbow bolts whistled through the air, the pursuing Egyptians first wavered, halted and fled - the enemy general being caught by the fast riding Turcopoles. The battle was over.
After the battle, the German cavalry pursued the routing Egyptians. A total of 1189 were captured. Henry offered to ransom them, but it was refused. Captain Conrad and his few surviving Turcopoles entered Antioch unopposed. Faced with a large hostile city, Henry knew he could not afford to be as magnanimous as he had been at Jerusalem. Although Antioch and Aleppo provinces were now free of significant Egyptian forces, there remained significant armies menacing Acre and Jerusalem. Unless the population of Antioch were cowed into submission, it was likely the entire Imperial army would need to be garrisoned there. Henry summoned Count Ulrich and embraced him.
“Ulrich, I am in your debt. Your leadership of the army at the time of crisis was invaluable. I have heard much of your exploits on the field of battle - they say your escort alone captured 347 of the enemy!”
Ulrich looked awkwardly at his feet during this praise.
“I understand Staufen needs upgrading to a citadel.” Henry continued. “Antioch is a rich city. You will find gold enough to pay for Swabia’s capitol. Go now, do what must be done, Prince of Antioch.”
At the sound of his new title, Ulrich bowed deeply and moved to undertake his grisly task. Henry looked sadly at the young man leave. He had planned to enter Antioch as a liberator, like he had done in Jerusalem. Now, he wondered if he could ever bring himself to enter the city at all. He later learnt that the sacking of Antioch had brought the Reich 16604 florins in plunder, but led to the massacring of 5314 innocents. Henry sat down, finding the moment of his great victory hollow.
From the shadow, Dusan Kolar watched Henry and whispered scornfully in a voice not unlike that of the late Heinrich: “Weak…”
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Battle on the hills of Adana, 1208
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Hans had been pursuing the enemy ever since they abandoned their siege of Adana, Mandorf's resting place. It was clear why they dared not fight him with Adana's garrison as reinforcements, for the enemy had mustered only spearmen and a few horse archers. Admittedly the Turks also brought along an entire siege train, but what good were catapults and ballistae against good German steel and commitment, Hans thought to himself. His men were weary from the long march across the hills, so Hans decided to give a short speech to inspire his men for the upcoming battle.
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As he surveyed the hill covered landscape, he decided to position his force atop the largest one to the west, leaving his enemy to likely deploy in the valley beneath him or at the far north west. His tactical move seemed to play out nicely as he noticed the first few Turkish banners crop up beneath him.
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Hans waited and watched his enemy reform below, wondering whether they would dare move up the hill to face him or whether he would have to order his knights down the slope. It seemed that the Turks currently had no intention of coming to him, so Hans moved his men closer towards the battleline, allowing his Armenians to start unloading their arrows onto the heathens.
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It was not until long that the Islamic horde realized that they would have to come to him or be shot to pieces by his archers, and their horse archers started galopping up the steep slope. Hans watched in amusement as these hapless horsemen were dismounted by the rain of his Armenians' arrows. As he turned to survey the rest of the battlefield, Hans suddenly heard some clamor coming from the main bulk of the Turks, followed by the searing heat of fireballs flying over his position, one of them hitting the few Teuton veterans he had brought along, with devastating effect.
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So it seems these catapults do have some use in the open. But not for long he decided, and sent his cavalry down the hill right into the Turk's right flank, followed by his brother Elberhard on his right and a regiment of Feudals each with them.
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The Turkish archers, already dismayed by the loss of their kin to the hail of arrows immediately started to lose heart and rout as they noticed that the Germans had decided to charge them head-on.
Hans ordered the Feudals to follow the horse archers to see them off the field while he and his brother went straight for the artillery.
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As they slaughtered the crews unopposed, stopping the rain of fireballs, Hans could see exactly why: The entire Turkish army, or rather what remained of it, was charging uphill against his heavily fortified position, with their general leading the charge.
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Hans could only laugh loudly at this tactical mistake and ordered his Feudals to give up chase and charge the rear of the Turkish infantry instead while motioning for his infantry to surround the heathen noble. He was not sure whether they could see his waving of not, but Adalberth, who he had left in command with the Teutons, must have been thinking the same, for the general was quickly surrounded and unhorsed.
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Once the heathens noticed their general had shown cowardice and surrended to the Germans, they all broke and fled for the hills from whence they came. Hans and his knights managed to capture all the cowards save the horse archers which his heavy cavalry was not capable of pursuing.
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Hans looked up from the letter Adalberth had handed him. It was indeed a grim day that the Turks refused to pay the ransom for their captured general and just about 400 of their men. As Hans could not risk letting them run free and threaten the infant outremer kingdom, he ordered them to be put to the sword.
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Afterwards, he wrote a letter to his father, among other issues, detailing the events that passed on this day.
---
As Hans held the newly arrived letter in his hands and skimmed through the lines, he motioned for Adalberth to call in his brother, Elberhard. So father allows me to do it, I am glad. As Elberhard entered his tent, Hans rose, ordered Elberhard to kneel, and spoke: "Elberhard of Swabia, for your services to the empire and your valor in battle, I hereby promote you to knight of the empire. Rise, Knight Elberhard of Swabia, and walk with pride."
Outside of Acre, 1208
Kurt Altman looked at Henry watching the Egyptian army approach. The Kaiser was in a dark mood and had become unreadable. The veteran warrior turned followed his master’s eyes to observe the enemy. Both Egyptian and Imperial armies were trying to claim a central hill in the middle of the battleground outside Acre. However, it was clear that neither side would achieve uncontested control of the hill before their two lines met. This was going to be a messy meeting engagement.
“Where is Otto?” barked Henry. “The man should be here by now!”
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
Henry spoke harshly to Kurt: “Put the pavise crossbowmen in front, I want them to get a clear shot at the enemy.”
Duke Otto had organised the training of many pavise crossbowmen in Acre – it was to be one of the few advantages the Imperials had over the Egyptians in the battle.
Kurt looked at his Kaiser with ill concealed apprehension. Henry snarled back. “Yes, yes, Kurt. I know what you are thinking. Just make sure the heavy infantry are close behind this time.”
The rebuke stung the veteran warrior – Henry was blaming him for the mishap during the opening of the battle for Antioch. Forget about it, focus on the enemy, Kurt told himself. The Egyptians approached – like the Imperial army, they had regiments of Turcopoles on each flank. Unlike the Imperial army, the Egyptians pushed aggressively forward with theirs.
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
Kurt saw the enemy Turcopoles approach so close he could see the whites of their eyes.
“Charge!” Kurt heard Henry roar. Damn it, thought Kurt, it has gotten to the point where the Kaiser cannot see an enemy before he launches into a precipitous charge! Who is going to command the army while Henry is galvinating off? There is no Ulrich here today to pick up the pieces.
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Carried away by the ferocious charge, Kurt could not observe what was happening in the centre of the battle. The Imperial line was assaulted by three regiments of Tabardariyya, fierce axe-wielding guards of the Sultan.
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The battle was in the balance.
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The Kaiser’s own charge had lost impetus and he withdrew his escort to regroup and reform. In the temporary calm, he ordered that all his knights - other than his own escort - make for the rear of the Egyptian lines and hunt down the Egyptian general, Nasir ad Din.
“And send a rider to Duke Otto. He must come here at full speed, we need him now, not tomorrow!”
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
Kurt’s keen eyes could make out the contest at the rear of the enemy lines. It was not going well. Closer to home, in front of him several regiments of spear wielding Saracen militia were massing to attack.
Henry roared in frustration: “Forwards!”, charging forwards once more towards the enemy.
To Kurt’s horror, the spears of the Saracens were braced when the charge hit home. A bitter struggle developed. Even Henry realised the inefficiency of the engagement and ordered his escort to retire once more.
“Pull out, Sire, pull out!” Shouted Kurt, but as his escort retreated, the Kaiser stubbornly remained at the rear, alone and hacking at the Saracen spearmen.
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
When the Kaiser finally retired, one of Otto’s aides had arrived. The Duke and his escort had arrived at the side of the Kaiser’s men, riding at full speed.
“Tell your master to charge, now!” the Kaiser barked at the Duke’s liaison.
The aide looked at the lines of Saracen spearmen facing the German cavalry and said tremulously:
“You wish my master to charge into a spear wall?”
“Damn it, don’t question me, fool! Tell Duke Otto to find an opening in their lines or make one!”
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
Kurt watched anxiously as his old master, Duke Otto, led his escort in a furious charge into a small gap in the Egyptian lines. However, the enemy were not caught napping and a regiment of Saracen spearmen on the Duke’s flank charged to try to close the opening.
In horror, Kurt saw his old Duke had been snared by a mob of enemy spearmen.
“Sire, the Duke!” Kurt called out to the Kaiser.
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
For a second, Kurt thought he saw a mask fall from Henry’s face, as the grim façade cracked and a sliver of vulnerable humanity broke through. Henry strained to make out the form of Duke Otto, hacking and slashing at the Saracen militia surrounding him. For that brief moment, it looked to Kurt as if the Kaiser feared losing everything – risked losing his soul.
Henry cried in anguish: “Pull back men, with me! We ride to the Duke’s aid!” The Kaiser turned to Kurt “Bring our Turcomans in, God damn it. We pay them to fight – let’s see them fight.”
Kurt raised his sword to signal understanding and then rode to call the fleet footed Turcomans to charge into the rear of the Saracens mobbing the Duke.
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
By the time Kurt had cut his way to Duke Otto’s side, the battle had swung decisively in favour of the Reich. Otto’s veterans – Kurt’s old friends – had smashed the Saracen militia. Now the Egyptian army was streaming to the rear in rout. Only a few determined bands of Tabardariyya had reformed and continued to cause mischief.
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
Kurt noticed the wound on Duke Otto’s leg, but then heard Henry call out:
“Otto! Nasir ad Din has slain my young knights! I would have my vengeance!”
Kurt looked appalled as in pain Otto raised his head. The Kaiser had looked so alarmed at losing the Duke a moment ago, and now he was sending him wounded on the most dangerous mission of the battle? As Otto closed his visor, it was not possible to see the wounded Duke’s expression, but as he turned and led his men off, his body language oozed reluctance, disdain and hurt.
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
After the battle, Kurt gingerly approached the Kaiser:
“My Lord, Duke Otto is injured. Will you see him?”
Henry spoke callously: “It is but a leg wound. You may attend to your old master in Acre. I have business in Jerusalem.”
Kurt watched the darkened face of his master, as he turned and cantered over to a black cloaked figure waiting on the road to Jerusalem.
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
The Assault on Jerusalem, 1210
Otto stood south of Jerusalem, gazing at the huge city while his newly promoted Master Archer, Jan, and his Teutonic Knight, Lucas, stood with him. Dark clouds hung over the Holy City as if to highlight its state of unrest. The Muslim residents had thrown off the authority of the Pope, and Kaiser Henry, much to Otto's surprise, had ordered him to take back the city in the name of the Church.
Jan, leaning on his bow, spoke up, "So, your Majesty, how are we to take the city with two rams and a siege tower?"
There was a tinge of levity mixed with respect in his voice and Otto chuckled and rubbed the scar on his face.
"It is quite simple Jan, I will order the Saracens to open the gates. They will have no choice but to obey their rightful King."
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
"Don't call me 'your Majesty' anyway Jan. I am grateful for the title, but we'll have to see what the Diet thinks about it in the next session. Besides, you've been with me since we took Bern, you knew me when I was an appallingly eager young Ritter."
"As for how we're to take the city with what has been left to us, each of us will take a gate. Jan, you will take the depleted unit of Pavise Crossbowmen and a unit of Turkopoles and deploy the siege tower at the east gate. Use the same tactic we employed at Bern, hold the attention of any rebel units holding the gate for as long as you can, when they withdraw to respond to the other attacks, take the gate and join in for what's left of the fighting."
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
Otto turned to Captain Lucas, the Teuton. The man had stood aloof from the joking. Otto had once berated him in front of his fellow sworn knights over the affair with Count Hans, and they were not old friends. Still Otto had seen potential in him after the dash through Hungary. He had requested him when the Teutonic order had offered him a liasion after the city had been taken for the first time.
"Lucas, you shall lead one of our rams, half the infantry and crossbowmen and the other unit of Turcopoles against the South Gate. You are to attack as soon as we are deployed."
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
"I will take the rest of the army and the remaining ram and attack the west gate."
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"Our numbers are almost equal with the rebels, but the quality of our men is greater. By spreading out the enemy I hope to exploit our superiority all at once so we overwhelm them and sustain less casualties. Not only do we have to take the city, we have to hold it once were done. If we're bled too much we won't be able to."
Lucas spoke up.
"Your Majesty," he said without irony, "If one of the rams burn, what should we do? What if they both do?"
Otto nodded grimly, "It is a concern. If a ram burns, the men assigned to that gate will move to the next. If both burn, we'll fall back to the tower. The rest is in God's hands."
As if on cue, it began to rain.
Otto looked up and smiled as water trailed down his face.
"It's not exactly a burning cross in the sky, but it'll keep the rams wet. I'll take it."
Turning back to his retinue, he spoke in a more serious tone, "You have your orders, deploy your men. God willing we shall meet in the center of the city."
-----
Otto's force, while losing some men to arrow fire, breached the gate and ran off the cavalry unit guarding it.
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Captain Lucas had a harder time of it at the south gate, he was met by spearmen. The fighting was very fierce.
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The melee was in the balance until the rebel leader was slain.
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The rebels fled back to the main square, with the Imperials in pursuit.
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Succesive waves of spearmen, horsemen, and camel riders broke themselves against Otto's men as they advanced on the square. Otto, glad to be back in the field, was very active in the fight.
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Jan held the attention of the two spear units holding the east gate as long as he could. When they departed to respond to the advancing forces to the south and west, he took the gate.
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A grim battle developed in the main square of Jerusalem as Otto and Lucas met. The rebels, their morale restored and bolstered by the two units from the east, were putting up a determined resistance. There would be no yielding today, they would make the Empire bleed if they could.
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While Otto was winning, the fight in the sqaure was turning into a battle of attrition. If this continued there might not be enough men to hold the city.
But then unexpected help came from the east.
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The Turcopoles charged into the back of the rebel spearmen and broke their cohesion. Sorrounded, they doggedly fought on, but their numbers were waning.
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They Saracens fought to the last man.
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Otto, Jan and Lucas did indeed meet in the center of the city. As Otto was congratulating his retinue a member of the city's Christian population approached him.
"My lord, you are truly the guardian of this city. Please take these relics we hid from the rebels with our thanks."
The man handed Otto a small chest. After he had left, Otto opened it. Inside were a number of relics suspiciously similar to the ones presented to Kaiser Henry when he had taken the city, who knew if they were real.
Seeing the last item in the chest, Otto let out a very un-Christian oath.
It was a Chalice.
-----
The Christian and Jewish quarters of the city were spared, for Otto would not harm his fellow Catholics and he remembered the Jewish Physician who had skillfully healed his leg. The Muslim quarter, however, was sacked for 18,000 florins. 3,000 who had aided the rebels lost their lives.
The Butcher's Bill:
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
The Assault of Rheims 1216
Duke Scherer stood outside of the city of Rheims laughing at what he has hearing from his advisors. Preliminary reports said that the city was only held by a few hundred militiamen along with some ballistas. The French sent a quick reinforcement group which is camped nearby but it only consisted of some poorly trained peasantry and some cheaply bought mercenary.
He wanted the battle to go perfectly well; Rheims was going to be the first French city captured by him and did not want much blood of his men on his hands. The battle was all but won the night before given his numerical superiority, but the Duke and his advisors planned a little bit extra for the French.
As noon broke, final preperations were set for the assault. The assault was to occur simultaneously on two sides of the city wall. The cavalry of the army was to destroy and reinforcements while the infantry takes the city.
As soon as the battle started, something surprising occurred. There was no derfenders at the southern wall of the city leaving no opposition to the troops bearing ladders and battering rams. French reinforcements came quickly, but they were too little and too late and was overran quickly by cavalry. Once the walls were taken and the gates down, the elite infantry was sent through the city taking out any opposition while the cavalry rode down and took the lightly defended city square.
Later in the evening, Duke Scherer allowed his men to have a night's rest and loot the city as they saw fit.
Casualties:
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
Battle placeholder for the massive battle near Krakow.
:balloon2:
Placeholder for the battle north of Rome.
Sally at Rheims 1218
Not soon after Duke Scherer ordered his men to sack all of Rheims, a quick French force managed to slip past the scouts and besiege the city intent on taking it back.
Duke Scherer was at first concerned thinking that his men was tired from a recent battle, but preliminary reports of the enemy force put him to ease. Although the enemy brought many well trained soldiers, all 700 were infantry with no cavalry or missle support. With such a versatile army at his disposal, Duke Scherer had do doubt in his victory.
At morning, he began to order his troops to prepare for battle hoping to take the French by surprise, but the battle was delayed until midday when the French had already gotten up and ready for any battle. Duke Scherer saw no point in delaying and ordered his troops out.
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
His plan was simply. His infantry line and crossbowmen would come out from the main gate and start skirmishing against the enemy. The Duke and his cavalry would sneak around through a side gate and catch the enemy by surprise.
As soon as the Duke's forces came out, the French began moving back towards a more defensible position on top of a hill. The skirmishing began as planned, but the French seeing a lack of cavalry decided to charge in immedietely. Duke Scherer was concerned, but his captains did well and engaged with the infantry line.
Soon after, Duke Scherer and his men charged right into the left flank of the French immedietely spreading terror and fear. The French soldiers began breaking ranks and soon started to flee in terror. Those fleeing would almost all be captured.
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
The Duke, feeling generous that day decided against execution of the 360 prisoners and instead offered to ransom them back to the French. The French refused and the Duke promptly ordered those captured dead.
North of Frankfurt, 1217 AD Germany
The sky of the day should've been black with sorrow and dread, because that was what most soldiers of the EIA were feeling like. Doomed, destined to fall in forests thick with pine cones.
It had all started earlier that morning, Prinz Jobst was sitting in his command tent,reading on all that was happening in the Diet, when a messenger came through, panting and puffing. he caught Jobst's attention at once due to the insignia on his sleeve, the Kaiser's Messenger.
"You are prinz Jobst?" asked the messenger, Jobst nodded, and the messenger bowed.
"mein prinz, I have come from Dijon, looking for you, some told me of you leading this EIA?" said the messenger, but he pressed on without waiting for a reply "I have commands from the Kaiser himself mein prinz, it is top secret" said the messenger, Jobst motioned for him to continue.
"The Kaiser orders the European Imperial Army to move to the forests north of Frankfurt. He says he has something...going to happen there" said the messenger. Jobst nodded,
"Tell the kaiser, I shall, but why?" said Jobst,
"The Kaiser also said if you asked why, too bad" smiled the messenger, who left in a hurry. Jobst grinded his teeth.
The Forests north of Frankfurt, 1218 AD, Germany
The European Imperial Army was waiting silently amongst the trees of North germany, many peacefully listening to the whispering of the leaves. That beautiful silence was broken by the dound of marching iron.
"C'mon! We have to make it through Imperial territory! The germans won't be happy about us marching through here...crusade or not my lord" said the voice, another one, a snarling voice, replied,
"Of course Eadgar, of course. At least the Main imperial army is in italy,heading to Poland" said the voice, and both voices laughed, though one was quite forced.
"they don't know anything of our approach do they Eadgar? Adalf?" asked the snarling voice,
"No sir"
"Of course not, how could they my lord?" The lord laughed.
"excellent" Many of the German Soldiers felt like laughing as well, they were so close to Crusading Danish Army, compared to what they thought. Jobst was positioned right next to the the direction the Danes were taking. Slowly but surely, the Prince of Denmark's Bodyguard came riding through.
about 500 metres behind was the coming Danish Crusading army. It was 1402 men strong, compared to Jobst's 693. They were outnumbered and outclassed, but the germans had the advantage, a hill, the weather and the position.
Jobst watched the Danish prince ride pat, and he muttered to Fritz and Luka
"I swaer I'm going to take the prince out myself, got it?" asked Jobst, Luka nodded,
"Of course mein prinz, it shall stregthen your capabillitites" said Luka, but Fritz had inquires
"And the other 5 Danish lords protecting the prince sir? What of them?" asked Fritz, Jobst clapped him quietly on the shoulder,
"Why my friend, we'll take 'em out ourselves" beamed Jobst silently. Jobst made a hand signal, which meant prepare for battle. They drew their swords, notched their bows, and got into positions. 2 battalions of Dismounted Feudal knights on one side, accompying the Mailed Knights. And on the other side two battalions of Armoured Spearmen,2 units of Pavise Crossbowmen a group of Teutonic knights and Jobst's Bodyguard itself, acting as an assain shock group.
"CHARGE!" roared josb't and Fritz repeated the order. They spurred their horses on, thundering down the slopes of a hill, narrowly avoding trees.
"The germans! The germans!" yelled Danish voices in norse. Jobst laughed loudly as his horse thundered down towards the Danish prince's bodyguard. Then a large-
THUD!
as Jobst and his fellow knights crashed into the Danish prince's Bodyguard. Jobst saw the two lords who had betrayed the Danish prince snak behind the Imperial Lines, and he confindently rode forward. Most Knights fell to Jobsts sword as he headed to the Danish prince, and eventually he found the prince, duelling on his horse with Fritz.
"leave him to me Fritz" yelled Jobst, Fritz nodded and tracked down a Danish lord. The Danish prince looked at him,
"So...who may you be?" asked the prince in German.
"I am the Prinz of the Reich, Imperial germany. I know you are the Prinz of Denmark, Harald" smiled jobst, Harald looked shocked,
"How do you know my name, how do yuo know we were here!?" yelled harald over the roar of battle.
"I know you, as you recently contacted mein kaiser, to ask that he could kill your father" said Jobst. Harald nodded,
"And you've come to help?" he said, Jobst shook his head,
"I've come to kill you Harald"
Jobst eaped forward and slashed at Harald. WHo doged it and swung back. This continued for a few minutes,neither gainign advantage. Suddenly jobst felt his horse give way, and they crashed to the ground. A blot was protruding from the horses head. The Pavise Crossbowmen were engagaed with the Danish Knights.
"Now who is too die, Prinz of germany!?" spat harald, standing over jobst with his sword raised, ready to kill. Jobst prayed silently,
"Long live the Kaiser" murmered Jobst, "Long live the Reich" he finally muttered, and Harald's final stroke fell.
All went black, Jobst was fristing into the world of death,silently dieing, then it all rushed back in a thunderous roar.
"Mein Prinz!" cried Fritz from outside the battle,
"mein Prinz where are you!?" he roared, a body fell onto Jobst, dead, and Jobst blacked out again. Then it came back.
"Why you f-!" Fritz cursed nearby, Jobst looked over and saw him duelling with Harald, who leaned forward.
"Your prince is dead, I killed him" snarled Harald. Fritz harged forward, but was knocked back by Harald. Jobst staggered up, grabbed a crossbow which was lieing nearby, and drunkenly fired at harald. He heard a scream of pain and a thud, and opened his eyes. there lieing dead was harald, Prince of Denmark.
Jobst felt a arm pull him up and found Luka pulling him up, with Fritz duelling with one of the five Danish Lords. jobst rushed forward and speared the lord with his sword, before calling a horse forward. The battle was over.
The Teutonic Knights had smashed into the Danish Army from behind, with the mailed knights. They then had wedged them together, killing over 400 soldiers, with the loss of only 120.
The Imperial Army went back to camp,where the soldiers celebrated a great victory, the danish prince killed, 600 soldiers of the Danish Army killed, and more captured.
But in the command tent...
"mi lord, we led the Danish Army here for you" said one of the Danish Lords,bowing before Jobst. Jobst slapped him on the shoulder,
"I give you free pasage right into Germany for two years, you amy return to Denmark if you wish" said Jobst, the man gleefully retreated to outside the tent, where the second lord came in. He was not the one who ahd been speaking that morning, in fact he had a French accent.
"Mi lord I set the-" jobst grabbed him by the shirt,
"A frenhc spy, I should've picked you the moment I saw you" Jobst threw him forward, oulled out his sword and hacked off the mans head.
The EIA (European Imperial Army) had defeated the Danish Crusaders, and killed their prince. Jobst returned to the Diet where he knew he was to cop remearks and trials, but he had won, and thats all that mattered...
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
Assault of Paris 1220
Duke Scherer was very confident as he set forth from Rheims, intent on taking Paris, the capital of France and the jewel of the country. His recent victories at Rheims made the French defeat seem inevitable.
The march to Paris was quick and easy with all French soldiers nearby having been recently been defeated in Rheims. Upon reaching Paris, he ordered his spy to infiltrate Paris and garner some information.
The news that reached him was alarming. The garrison within Paris although inexperienced and mostly includes militia, had a fully 300 more men than the Duke's army. Furthermore, French reinforcements were in just a day or two's march away.
Concerned about French reinforcements, the Duke attempted to take the city quickly. His spy who luckily had some family within Paris managed to bribe his way into getting the French captain of the walls to look the other way for one night. The gates were quickly opened and the Duke was ready to fight.
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
The Duke confident of his elite cavalry's fighting ability ordered his infantry and crossbowmen to take the walls as he quickly charged towards the center of city eager to take the French by surprise. The French however, has been training for a siege for the past few months and had their militia quickly fall back to the center of the city.
The Duke's infantry found almost no resistance at the walls and it was only then did they realize that the bulk of the French army was already marching towards the city center and would certainley catch the Duke by surprise.
The Duke's cavalry quickly reached the heart of the city and caught three units of militia by surprise. They were being quickly cut down when another 3 regiments appeared from a side street and even more comming from various other directions.
Sensing that his luck has changed, the duke quickly ordered most of his cavalry back, but ordered his most trusted cavalry to stay and fight on in order to cover his hasty retreat. They were quickly cut down, but their sacrifice saved most of the cavalry and the Duke from almost certain death.
What followed afterwards was a slaughter. The French unable to mount a counterattack, holed up in the city's central square. Swabian crossbowmen were moved into position and began firing upon the French troops before the bulk of the army charged in and killed everyone down to the last man.
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
Angered by the loss of his cavalry, the Duke ordered all of Paris to be sacked and its gold brought back to the Empire.
Battle on mountain pass near Durazzo 1222
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"Damned!We are stuck gentlemen!"
Jonas Von Mahren shouted to the men gathered in his command tent.
"The reports from scouts are clear. The Venetians have blocked the pass with a larger army then ours and marching around them is impossible,becouse Durazzo will block our route on the coast.The longer we will wait,more powerfull the Venetian host will get."
Austrian knight commander stood up and sayed.
"The reports are clear.There is more then half thousand Venetian Knights in that pass and atleast the same amount of infantry. Their army outclasses and outnumbers ours clearly.There is no sensible way for us to engage them,without high risk of annihilation."
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Jonas buried his head on his hands for a while and then continued.
"Well ofcourse there is high risk that we will be defeated, but if we stay put we will be definately defeated,since there is no other Imperial army near by we have to push through that pass. Gentlemen, be prepared we will attack when the time is right.Dismissed."
As the last Austrians walked out of his tent,Von Mahren took another look on the map for about the hundred time and thought.
"There is nothing there in the ground that will help us. The pass is mostly flat and there are no forest or any other things which could help us either,we have some missile troops that Venetians doesnt have,but in that bloody pass there isnt any point where we could lure the Venetians to an place that would benefit our infantry against their large host of knights."
After a moment Jonas got tired on looking at the map as if there was anything usefull there.Instead he decided to go for a walk inside the camp. As he came out from his tent the cold breeze made him shiver and he decided to stop by on a kitchen tent where few men were eating. The cook handed him a warm beer and Jonas stood there for a moment sipping from his warm drink. As he had finished the drink and was walking towards his tent,it started. Heavy snow flakes started dropping from the sky on increasing pace and eventually a full blown blizzard hit the camp. After a short period of time Jonas started laughing out loud and roared.
"Sound the assembly we will move out!Move it men!"
After the army had assembled Jonas mounted with the Austrian captains explained his plan.
"With the help of this blizzard we will move past the Venetian force without them knowing that we even passed. But if they will see us,there is only one way for us to save ourselves. Not a man can brake rank. In a colum we can fend of the Venetian cavalry,but if we brake formation the Venetians will run down our men like grass.Now move it,but silently.If we are lucky we will go unnoticed."
And so in the thick of the blizzard the Austrian household army started marching the right side of the pass.
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The column of troops was tightly packed.First the Pavise crossbowmen,second the armoured spearmen, after them the dismounted knights and last the two mounted units of knights and Von Mahrens personal escort.
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The blizzard howled around the men,so it was impossible to hear anything and as the colum was half way through the pass,Jonas was getting optimistic about their chances of getting through unnoticed. Then things started go wrong.
Luigi Di Pietro was just an ordinary levied spearmen from Venice and his reason for being so far from the Venetian camp was far from beeing on a chivalrous guarding duty.
For past week Luigi had tryed to convince a local daughter of an peasant that there was nothing bad with tender feelings between two adults,while he kept his mouth shut about his family in Durazzo.After long period of courting the girl had started to warm up for Luigi´s tricks and the two were currently in a haystack inside of a barn when suddenly the mother of the sayed peasant girl came running and screaming into the barn.
"Germans!There are thousends of Germans marching towards the farm!"
Shouted the peasant woman with mixture of Croatian,Italian and German.
"Are you out of your mind?"
Luigi stated as he pushed the girl inside the haystack as if the mother wouldnt have known that the girl was in the barn with a Italian soldier.
!Come see! Stupid Italian!"
Yelled the mother. Reluctantly Luigi rose up from the hey and walked out of the barn to see what the grazy woman had seen. But after a short glimpse he got more energy in his moves then never before in his life. A large German host was marching straight towards the farm and as the mother tryed to hang on his sleeve and daughter on his foot screaming about how the germans would rape and kill or vice versa them all,Luigi decided that if there was never a time for him to run,this was it.
Meanwhile Von Mahren had no idea that they were spotted. And the German army marched silently and carefully forward.
When the army was just about to cross a small hill.The drumming and trumpet sounds started from the Italian camp.Von Mahren cursed and lined the men into battle. He rode through the troops and shouted over and over again.
"Stay together.Crossbows aim for the horses,then retreat behind the spears.If we stay together we have a chance."
After a short while the drumming stopped and large grumbling sound started to come nearer and nearer and suddenly hundreds of Venetian knights came out charging from the blizzard.
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Jonas felt bad for the front line spearmen already. The crossbows shot a fast volley and run behind the spearmen.The next second the Venetian cavalry smashed on the center and right of the German force like thunder.
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The ranks of spearmen wawered but held. After the initial charge Jonas commanded the dismounted knights to attack the gaps of the line and committed his two units of mounted knights to the right rear that was getting stressed of the numbers of Italian Knights charging there.He stayed alone on the left flank of the line shouting constantly.
"Hold the line men!Hold the line,they cant brake us!"
The battle raged hard and the Venetians charged the German line over and over again.Men dying on both sides.Von Mahren stood stubbornly on his place on the left flank while now there was even some Venetians behind him routing some of his crossbows. Jonas just sat on his saddle fending of the occasional Italian knights that penetrated the line or tryed to flank the Germans and he roamed.
"Hold the line!Not a one step back men!"
Suddenly a relief came as the Venetian captain had charged also the German lines and a stab of a German spear ended his life.
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Now it was the time.Now or not ever.Jonas commanded a general charge and the Germans started pushing.Little by little the Italians turned and started running and after a while general rout begin. Von Mahren tryed to coordinate the pursue,but the troops were completely mixed and all he could do was to gather units there where a Italian knight unit decided to turn around.Even this was hard since there was only a handfull of mounted Germans alive and many times few men were pursuing a very much larger troops. Finally The last Italians were driven of the field and as the blizzard slowed down and ended the whole gruesomnes of the battlefield appeared infront of their eyes.
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The field was a sea of corpses of men and horses most dead some still alive and wounded.After the battle Von Mahren ransomed the Italian prisoners back for a amount of 1300 florins.Also he sent a message to Durazzo with them reading.
"We have destroyed the best you have.Your city will be next."
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Butchers bill:
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Allied Battle for Constantinople, Spring 1224 AD
After Hans had defeated the small Hungarian rear guard, he wondered where the large army that had taken Constantinople a few years ago had set up camp. He still remembered the pledge he made to both himself and the empire's ally that he would personally secure the border of their capital and drive the Magyars back to whence they came. Several days passed, during which Hans restlessly walked up and down inside his tent, waiting for his scouts to report back on any large troop movement. And on the seventh day, he was in luck. It was not quite what he had expected, for it was not one of his scouts that had entered his tent but a Byzantine messenger. At first, Hans was apalled by the looks of that man, who was clad merely in rags and was bleeding from places more than one, but it was not upon him to judge the empire's ally's looks. Quite brashly, the man had requested some water, which Hans gestured forth, before he began to speak, in a cracking voice that Constantinople was once again under siege. These words had resonated for quite a while in the young noble's ears, for he felt that he might have come too late once again. As he steadied himself however, he quickly called for the camp to be broken and force marched his men eastwards.
That was several days ago now. Hans stared at the host in front of him that was busily building siege equipment and heaving heavy catapults into position to fire upon the walls of the great city. He almost wished that he had brought his host of infantry with him so he could surround and defeat them easily, but luck had not been with him, for the bulk of his army rested several days back in the west, unable to march further and not able to catch up in time for battle. As Hans looked about him, he brought to memory each and every one of the few mounted knight regiments that he had brought with him. They, too, were tired, but they had made their pledge and were ready to fight and die for him. It almost brought tears to his eyes when they collectively had raised their swords high and declared that they would follow him to free Constantinople. And now was the time...
Hans deployed his cavalry on a gentle slope at the rear of the Hungarian force, while his Byzantine allies would come from his left, hopefully in time to flank the bulk of the opposing force.
As the Byzantines were still far off, the Hungarians immediately turned and marched towards Hans' position. The number of banners flying over the host's heavily armed foot soldiers was quite concerning, and while the apparent lack of spearmen would make matters easier, the fact that every single one of the enemy's foot soldiers was a knight would make for a long and difficult battle.
To Hans' surprise, the Hungarian captain seemed to struggle keeping his forces in line and readying his artillery, for their siege engines kept turning to and fro, not knowing how to deploy. It almost made the young chancellor laugh out loud as after severak hours, the Hungarians still had not mustered the courage to engage his force nor fire a single arrow at his knights. It was good this way however, as it allowed his weary knights and horses the rest they so desired. Nevertheless, Hans did not allow a single man to dismount, for only if they used the momentum - and used it well - would this day be a victory for the empire.
As his Byzantine allies' banners finally started appearing on the horizon and some Hungarians worriedly turned left and right, not knowing where to go, Hans sounded the battlehorn and charged forth towards the Magyars.
The enemy was clearly take by surprise, yet under the shouting of their captain turned towards and started charging towards him. Perfect Hans cheered everything is going as planned as he ordered his knights to turn and ride back up the hill, some Hungarians still in pursuit while the others were either disoriented or moved towards forming a new line against the Byzantine advance.
It was then that Hans gestured for all his units to turn and charge back down the hill after their successful feint that broke the enemy formation.
The Mailed Knights broke deep into the enemy lines and charged down several dismounted knights only to quickly break away from the incoming pursuers, make a sharp turn and charge back into the Hungarian archer regiments.
Meanwhile, Hans was charging towards several foot knights that were planning to get into the rear of the mailed knights and his mounted feudal knights charged the flanks of his opponent.
As the mailed knights had done, Hans broke immediately after the charge from melee only to charge the lines of foot knights next to his former target. He could clearly start sensing the fear in his opponents even through their visors, as they started to waver and the back rows started to turn and run.
It was then that Hans noticed the enemy Frankish knights trying to get to his right flank, formed up in a wedge.
Immediately, he sounded the horn to have all his knights fall into the enemy knights' flank and destroy them.
The enemy knights broke quickly, yet some fighting to the death as they saw no escape from their dire situation. Fireballs started flying through the sky as both Hungarians and Byzantine catapults started firing at each other and the lines started to engage. A perfect opportunity to charge the Magyar's rear and have the Byzantines mop them up Hans figured and forced his men to disengage from the remaining frankish knights to charge the nearest foot knight lines.
Men flew into the air as lances and horses crashed into them, leaving a sea of corpses in their wake.
Yet again, as Hans' entourage impacted with the footknight regiment, he broke to charge their neighbors, wreaking utter havok to the enemy's formation, men, and morale as they tried to turn towards him with the Byzantines now in their rear.
Riding through the gap in the Hungarian lines, Hans and his entourage struck knights left and artillery crew right, seeding fear into the enemy's hearts as all but their captain's regiment started to turn and flee for the hills in panic.
His mounted knights in the meantime started to break the last resistance among the enemy artillery crews, who breavely stood their ground, fearing both their captain's fury and German steel.
Yet even they decided that German steel was the greater threat and started to run, nearly all of their compatriots being captured by either Hans' forces or the Byzantines. Only 19 made it into the hills, with Hans' knights too tired to pursue them. The day was won regardless and the two Roman empires once again cheered together as brothers, to their heroic victory over the barbaric Magyars as Constantinople was saved.