In the Picard countryside, 1368
Hughes and his men had ridden south as fast as they could upon hearing of the Crusade call from Pope Gregorius. His Templar vows demanded of him that he take up the cross and he would... Only he would have to gather an army first...
Thus, he was forced to make camp in Picardie, not far from the river Somme. He took position into some woods crowning the highest hill in the region. The lookouts could see for miles in every direction, and the country being mostly pasture, no large force could wander close enough undetected.
The men had arrived a few days later... First, the mercenary captain Jan van Rijn and his Flemish pikemen and crossbowmen that had made wonders at Antwerp, having recruited on the way some mercenary knights he knew of old... A bit later arrived men that had been part of Welf von Luxemburg’s command led by a lone and veteran Teutonic knight leading an artillery crew with a bombard and some arquebusiers.
Never in his life had Hughes been in command of such modern weaponry... The Temple believed in the chivalric ideals of fighting man to man and thus refused to acknowledge this new form of warfare...
However new this might seem to him, he had read many accounts of battles where such weapons had been used to great effect and knew the principles underlying such use.
With now enough men under his orders, Hughes gathered them and gave them a brief speech telling them what fiendish abominations the French were and how he had volunteered to take up the cross and lead a crusade to rid the world of such devil spawns.
The men cheered him as one and the next few days saw them tearing long strips of red cloth bought in a nearby town, stitching on their cloths in cross patterns or making flags out of that same cloth.
The men needed rest before marching on Angers to join Count Ruppel’s forces an therefore the camp was maintained at its resent location.
One day, one of the forward observer came riding hard into camp, stopping his horse right in front of the tent where Hughes was studying some crude maps of the country between here and Angers.
The man got down from his horse, dropped on one knee and made his report.
“My Lord, I have spotted a small force of French advancing towards our position. From what I have seen, they seem to be the remnants of the force we thought at Antwerp. I would swear to it.”
“Some poor lout in one of the farms around us must be richer at this very moment. There is no other way for the scum to have marched right to our camp. We are away from the main roads. How long before they reach us ?” Hughes asked.
“I would estimate three hours at the most... They should be coming from the north” the rider answered.
Hughes turned to Guillaume, Jan Van Rijn and Thierry Foucault.
“Prepare the men... You all know your orders.”
******
Two and a half hours later, Hughes sat his horse on top of a ridge on the northern side of the hill. The French were crossing the plain at the foot of the rise.
From what he could see from his vantage point, it really looked like the remnants of the force defeated at the bridge near Antwerp. It was mostly made of foot knights with some missile infantry and a company of lancers flying a command flag.
Hughes had set his forces on the ridge with the bombard in the center, crossbowmen on the left and arquebusiers on the right. He wanted the French to ride up the hill under a deluge of cannon ball, lead pellet and crossbow bolt. None should be able to reach the line.
Van Rijn and his pikemen were stationed a little to the rear of the bombard to provide support should any Frenchmen happen to be still standing at that point.
Hughes took the left flank and gave the right to the mercenary knights.
When all men were in place, Hughes turned to look down the grade at the advancing Frenchmen. It would be a steep climb, under fire all the while, but the French were battle-hardened veterans not deterred by much, so they might still reach the top.
******
Hughes rode near the bombard crew leader.
“My orders are to fire at will once the first of the French are within range. Don’t stop firing until you are threatened. Is that clear ?”
“Aye, aye, sir” the man said with a salute.
Making a last round of his men positions, Hughes regained his retainers just as the French began climbing the hill.
KA-BOOM !!
The bombards had opened fire, hurling their metal balls at tremendous speed through the air.
Hughes was watching intently to see how precise these shots were. Was it luck, skill of the crew or a bit of both, Hughes didn’t know, but the first shot had landed squarely in front of a unit of foot knights striking them down like pins in a child’s game. The lethal balls bounced and went flying at the French captain unit of lancers, striking him in the chest and hurling him in the air to land thirty feet from his horse.
Hughes couldn’t believe his luck... Now leaderless the French would be much easier to drive off the field.
Out of fury and desperation, the lancers launched a headlong charge towards the Hughes’ artillery intent on avenging their leader.
Hughes rode to meet them, signalling the mercenary knights to do the same. The horses quickly gained speed going down the grade.
Suddenly, an order was issued from the French assembled mass.
“Demi-tour !! Vite !!”
The lancers stopped their horses, making them turn by yanking violently on the reins, turning them around and leading them fast behind the safety of the main battleline.
Hughes took only a few seconds to signal the mercenary knights to take up positions to the right of the French line before sending his horse and his men into the crossbowmen that faced him intent on catching the lancers. The French riders struck from behind, their horses frightened by the nearby explosions scouring the French ranks lost all their will to fight and began routing.
While the French foot knights continued their advance up the hill, their ranks decimated by arquebus shots and crossbow bolts, the French lancers had gathered up their courage and charged up the slope towards the mercenary knights leading their own charge to meet them (OOC : I can’t believe that 8 lancers managed to kill 15 knights in uphill against downhill charge...)
Meanwhile, Hughes was driving and slaughtering the French missile units like cattle.
The lone Teutonic knight in a moment of folly charged down the hill to engage a depleted unit of Aventuriers, but was struck down by a volley fired by his opponents before he could reach them.
Some of the French knights managed to reach the top of the hill and while the crossbowmen and arquebusiers withdrew in an orderly fashion to take up positins a little higher up the hill, the artillery crew disobeying Hughes’ orders remained and fought to defend their precious guns. (OOC: I asked them to withdraw and they withdrew forward)
Only Van Rijn’s pikemen intervention saved them from certain death, Van Rijn himself catching them by the cuffs and driving them from the fight with well-placed strokes of his boots.
The foot knights faced by the hedgehog of Van Rijn pikes lost heart and began running downhill.
All that remained was for the handgunners to mow them down.
Finally, Hughes and his men cornered the few remaining Frenchmen and pinned them at lance point to the tree where they had surrounded them.
******
Hughes stood by the grave that had been hastily dug for the Teutonic Knight.
“Curse him for his foolishness...” Hughes thought. “Men like him would have been useful in our Crusade.”
Turning to the assembled men, Hughes gave his orders.
“Men, we march as deep into French territory as we can and kill all that stand in our way... This is the work of God we will accomplish in the coming months...”
A huge cheer born of joy to be alive and religious zeal rose from the men as Hughes jumped on his horse.
If only they knew his real motives for going on Crusade, they wouldn’t cheer him so... God had no part in this... Only him and vengeance cold as ice and hard as steel...
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