Kontia
Tanya, Queen of the Tanaoi.
Earthworks, trenches, and defensive mounds were a staple of inter tribe warfare for centuries at the very least. Digging was an important skill and for a young warrior, a constant activity. While tribal conflicts would happen over hundreds of miles of steppe, the battles themselves would only rarely happen in an open field.
While open battles would usually involve a wide line formation and subsequent encirclement of an enemy force, things became more complex in the true staple of the low intensity conflicts of the vast steppe: the siege in its many forms.
Most actual fighting would involve attacking a migrating tribe's camp or a longhouse placed on some sort of hill with defensive ditches. There was of course the well-known tactic of ambushing a party of drovers with their herd, however such ambushes were well outside of the norm and were rather risky. While a small skirmish resulting in a few deaths or hostages being taken for ransom was forgivable, the capture of an entire herd of cattle would result in what was effectively an open war between two tribes.
In some cases, it would result in a tribal coalition against the cattle thieves, and despite the tribe enjoying the fruit of the conflict, a scapegoat would be selected to avoid more bloodshed. I had learned that the hard way. But in the majority of cases, war in the steppe consisted of small, low intensity sieges. Often this meant using the most plentiful building material on the steppe, and that meant digging.
Practically the entire inventory of Kontia's picks and shovels had been exhausted and many were under constant repair, but the project, the first outermost defensive line, was complete. To a rather high standard too.
An earthen mound, sides supported by logs, stones, rubble, and branches with a flat top. The roughly five foot tall enfilade extended almost thirteen miles, broken up by squat wooden forts. Little more than small watchtowers situated roughly equidistant where possible. This fortification paled compared to the immense and quite frankly absurd walled fortifications used by Sadera, but it was more than enough for my purposes.
The mound sat before a trench roughly seven feet deep and lined with broken glass, rusty metal and whatever else could be tossed in. The quality of the trench was quite disparate along the length of the hastily constructed fortification, with it having collapsed in some places. But it did universally offer a greater challenge in approaching the mound wall.
The plan was simple for this outermost defence, I would deploy my lighter, less reliable companies behind the wall and give them responsibility to defend an area roughly seven hundred feet wide. Not an unreasonable prospect when each company numbered one hundred persons. When a Saderan force approached the company would be required to harass the approaching enemy with slings as well as other missiles.
The mound wall had been designed specifically to allow my forces to stand atop it and use the elevation advantage provided. They were also to deploy three runners, one to deliver word of an attack to the rear and the other two would move to inform the companies on either flank who would spread the news in turn.
I had arrived at Kontia with one hundred and thirty companies of soldiers that met my standards. I also had an additional one hundred and fifty oversized cadet companies, but I did not intend to use them in battle if I could avoid it. With the arrival at Kontia and the influx of freed slaves, as well as an unfortunate but necessary lowering of my standards, I now had two hundred and one companies representing just over twenty thousand soldiers.
I had organised the companies into rough categories. With equipment taken from Kontia, I expanded my Cavalry Companies to four full companies or four hundred women who had the best armour, weapons and were being constantly drilled. This would be one of the vital reserve formations that would serve to move quickly to contest any breaches the Saderans made in the perimeter.
I was also establishing two artillery companies who were absolutely ruining one of Yannit's test cannons while learning how to use the weapon. So far I had two freshly made, with another three that had been cast and were being prepared, but expanding the workforce had not meaningfully expanded my productive capacity as of yet.
It seemed that even a week from now I would not have enough cannons to meet my demand from Yannit, let alone equip my artillery companies and place cannons in any of the forward fortifications. It was frustrating, but a large number of cadets were helping to produce the weapons now. With the process becoming more widespread I would be able to make improvements later on.
Eleven of the companies I considered 'Guard' companies. Tactical formations made up of the most capable, and disciplined soldiers under my command. They were not the strongest, nor the greatest fighters, but they would follow orders and were verifiable battle maniacs who when told to hold would sooner die than break and run.
Next were my 'Regular' companies. Out of the remaining one hundred and eighty-four companies I had around fifty or so who met my standards of soldiery, having armour, weapons, and the discipline to reliably follow orders and fight in formation. They still required training, but they were an effective fighting force.
The last one hundred and twenty or so were closer to 'Irregulars'. They were companies that struggled with discipline, experience, combat capabilities and equipment standards. They often had women who were content to rely upon their subconscious strength enhancements provided by being born as a Lepus rather than hone their own skill.
It would require roughly one hundred of my companies to cover the area of the outer perimeter and I would then need additional companies to hold in reserve to rotate out exhausted companies as well as extra companies assigned to the forts. The Irregular companies were the obvious choice for this with each fort getting a Regular company in addition to the normal Irregular one.
That left me with just twenty Regular companies and the Cavalry, Artillery and Guard companies left as a mobile fighting force to respond to breaches with. A worrying prospect that was somewhat mitigated by a good stockpile of black powder, enough to make a few sizable charges that could be remotely detonated by a rather simple spell formula.
I looked about me, at the totality of my officer corps. That the entire officer contingent of an army larger than twenty thousand soldiers could fit into a not particularly large room in the Kontia school was one of the greatest challenges I had to face. Saderans had a rough ratio of 70/1 in terms of 'soldiers' to 'officers'. I had a ratio closer to 105/1 with every single woman I promoted to a command position being overworked and undertrained. That had only gotten worse with the influx of new companies that I would require for the coming battle.
That I had effectively created the conditions for a black company for officers under my command was not lost on me.
In my second life the ratio in the Imperial Germanic Army had been 5/1 and had only degraded to about 10/1 close to the end of the war when the Empire had been forced to employ mass conscription. As frustrated as I was with Enya at the moment, she had offered me a great boon. The promotion of Delilah had established a precedent that non-purebloods could be given positions as officers.
I needed time to identify prospective officers and begin training them, but so long as I could preserve my existing officer corps and expand it I could hopefully approach a more appropriate ratio of soldier to officer. The ratio was vital for a more agile and capable fighting force, one that could more effectively organise itself and handle complex situations.
I had spent several days imparting not just the plan for resisting the Ninth Legion, but also the foundation to understand the plan.
"I will not provide some pedantic definition of war but instead provide you a practical one." I continued to my officer corps, and Cato who had set aside enough time to attend my first true lecture. "War is an act of force to compel an enemy to do our will."
I waited a moment to allow the women before me to consider the statement before I continued. "War is not, but can include, the arrangement of vast armies, raiding of villages, enslavement of enemies and the taking of plunder. These are indeed elements that can be present in a war but should not be viewed as a requirement for any given conflict. With this definition we are faced with an obvious question, what if we use the threat of force to compel an enemy to do our will?" I again waited to see if anyone would venture a response and suppressed some frustration as the only person taking notes was Cato...
Perhaps I should have started with a lecture on note taking.
"This, I would define as Coercive Diplomacy rather than War, as force has not been employed in subjugating an enemy that surrenders to the threat of force. As such Diplomacy falls outside of your purview as officers even if you will very much be part of the reason any such Diplomacy is successfully conducted." I explained in rather simple terms. In the mind of my people diplomacy and war had become blurred concepts. It was not inaccurate to say that the tribes of the steppe lived in a state of constant war. A war without purpose, objective, or end.
I will put a stop to that.
"With this definition in hand we must establish a clear view of our enemies and our objectives. First we must characterise the Saderans, I will begin..."
Sadera, Imperial Palace.
Ser Paetus Rosianus
The entire west wing of the grand palace had been emptied as the Emperor gave audience to the Order of the Wyvern Knights. Dozens of my brothers stood outside of the chamber where the grandmasters of the order met with the most powerful man in the Empire. On our part it was a show of strength, dozens of Wyvern Knights with our mounts basking in the resplendent gardens at the heart of the Empire.
And the man in question had not even deigned to bring any bodyguards with him, just his daughter dressed up like a knight. It was a display of great trust in our order. That or it was a statement that he had nothing to fear from us at all. In truth it was impossible to tell.
Hours passed before the chamber doors opened and a furious trio of grandmasters stalked out of the room, the doors near silently swinging shut behind them as my brothers and I awaited instruction.
"We have been forbidden from striking at this Sorceress Queen of the Tanaoi." Tiberious said at last as fury beset my brothers.
"What madness is this? What possible reason could he demand we stay our hands?!" Came an indigent shout that I realised had come from my own lips.
"The Emperor believes that if this barbarian has the power to slay a Wyvern, then it would be foolish to send Wyverns to kill her. He has demanded we allow the Frumentarii to end her life in our stead."
"And we must tolerate this blight upon our honour?" A brother asked with barely controlled rage.
Rather than respond Tiberious glanced back at his fellow grandmasters and turned to the assembled knights. "There is much to discuss, and we shall retire to our chapter house to do so." The order, while unspoken, was clear.
Despite what the Emperor bid, no knight could accept such disgrace as to allow this matter to be resolved by an assassin's blade.
200 miles southwest of Kontia
Rory Mercury
Muscles exerted until they were shredded apart. Fat forced into existence and destroyed in mockery of a protesting world. Bones shattered from constant impacts never quite having the time to heal. Pain had long ago ceased to have any meaning despite its constant companionship in times like this.
Death had sought to claim me again and again as I forced my body to propel me across the continent at the behest of Emroy. But I was anchored here, to a body that ran across a thousand miles in just a scant few days. Here, even so far away. I could taste it, the maelstrom of suffering and anguish that flowed towards me from across the steppe. Spirits that had murdered, then were murdered in turn in this distant Imperial conquest.
And then there were the more recent deaths taken by pestilence and exposure to the harsh steppe. I scarcely needed eyes to see as the recently slain provided clear beacons of where and when different battles had occurred with the swirling vortex of confused spirits far to the north who continued the battle that had taken them in life to the world between.
Their conflict in life had become chains in death and their apparitions fought on in an endless orgy of bloodshed unaware of their own departure. The clash of ghostly battle echoing out across hundreds of miles and no doubt thinning the blanket of reality in that site of battle where hundreds of thousands must have fallen.
Hardy was clearly slacking in their duties. I would have to go and correct that personally, but first...
The grassy rolling hills gave way to vast wetland. Weirs, dams, embankments, this was no naturally formed wetland, but a place carefully cultivated by its semi-aquatic denizens. A project of centuries to capture and expand the ponds and lakes of this place before a hungry sea could claim its due.
Having departed from the Saderan road a day ago, my pace had slowed considerably. But my bones no longer withered under constant impacts from each powerful lunge either. I did not know much of this place having not had the need to travel to this part of the world in my service for almost a thousand years. But I could see my destination clearly regardless, the run to this far-flung corner of the empire had been especially boring but perhaps I could find something inter-
"Ugh." I gurgled, pausing as I stood atop a dam I had been navigating in order to pass over a fair-sized river. While slowed somewhat by the slippery top of the stone structure an arrow had struck my throat.
I let out a gurgling sigh and adjusted the position of my halberd and looked over to a thicket of bushes and trees to spy a rather shocked looking pair of Lizardmen. One of them holding a bow in his clawed grip.
In an instant Emroy furnished me with command of their tongue and I broke the arrow-shaft from my neck and swallowed down the barbed head as the uncomfortable sensation of my flesh knitting back together took my attention away from the delay.
"A fine attack young hunter!" I praised the baffled pair of Lizardmen. "I am the Apostle of Emroy, and you shall take me to your King."
The pair of them looked at each other for a moment before turning about and running.
I could only grin and throw myself into the chase. Just slow enough to give them a chance.
Ninth Legion Camp
Tyuule, Slave Concubine of Prince Zorzal
The Humans were dragging their feet.
I lounged at the heel of the boy prince and regarded the despondent looking attendants and companions who were here to offer advice, but did little but squabble about this tactic or that when they ran down the Tanaoi who would no doubt simply march until they selected a battlefield to their perfect advantage.
Or merely continued to migrate away from this slug of a host.
Although their army was vast and well equipped, the force of perhaps ninety thousand souls moved without grace upon their long stone road. Their constitutions had proven to be pathetic as many of the men had fallen ill to dysentery and other such maladies likely spread from the putrefying air from the domain of the lizardmen to the west.
Even Zorzal himself was pale with fever even as he adorned himself with overwhelming perfumes and powders to disguise that fact from his men. The boy had scarcely enough strength to sit before his war council or to ride atop his horse alone, and thus I had taken to riding behind the man to keep him steady in the saddle as we approached the Tanaoi host.
At this point it was pure folly, without the Saderan drakes to swoop down upon Tanya's army and with his force in such a state this march was doomed to failure. I had cautioned again and again for the boy to order his men back north to recover and call upon a warband of Lepus to join us in the pursuit of the Tanaoi. Preferably the Pomi, but even the Yutoi were a greater tribe than the Tanaoi could ever hope to be.
Such a joint expedition would demonstrate the power of my people and give them a greater prominence in the Saderan Empire. But it was also simply a sound strategy.
Zorzal had rebuffed my council again and again, but lacked the strength to chastise me in any meaningful way. It was only when he was driven to fury that he was even the slightest bit entertaining and even that had ceased as he suffered from the fever.
"Tribune, the men are restive, and it is unclear if our centurions will have the ability to bring them to march upon the morrow." One of the younger men who was closer than most to Zorzal spoke up at last.
I glanced back at Zorzal and found his face set in fury as sweat ran down his face. Even from here I could hear each breath he took.
"Traitors." The boy spoke without any real conviction. His fists balled at his side as he sank into an en-pillowed chair. "I have commanded them and they would refuse me?" He spoke before clutching at a vessel of watered-down wine and drinking greedily.
"The march south has been difficult and with our supplies cut off from Kontia we have had to enforce strict rationing." Zorzal's friend spoke to ease the impotent rage of the heir to an Empire.
"We cannot go north." Zorzal protested. "We cannot... let them get away after all of this." He wheezed.
"The campaign season is quickly ending." I spoke up. "Be done with this for now and face the Tanaoi in the coming spring." At first the boy looked at me with the familiar glare that preceded a tantrum. But as he looked at the rest of the war council who did not contradict me his shoulders sagged.
He opened his mouth to speak when a man burst into the expansive tent his eyes wide.
"What is the meaning of this?!" Zorzal demanded, using a hand to steady himself against his chair.
"Tribune. Your Majesty." The man began. "They are here for you." His words, curiously, caused the Boy Prince to stiffen in fear.