Chapter 2
So, what is there to say about the Battle of Teshka? Perhaps it was not the greatest engagement in the history of the Empire - not if the numbers taking the field are your only measure. But rarely has victory been gained by an army that appeared so disadvantaged at the outset. Reader, It is for this reason that Teshka is still studied in military academies, even in our modern days. You have probably heard of it, have you not? No? Well, perhaps you read my words in a land thousands of miles away, or in a time thousands of years away, in a time to come or in a time long past. The Goddess works in mysterious ways.
The morning fog on that day of battle was never recorded in accounts at the time and has therefore been lost to history. But it's presence must make us wonder; was the deployment of the Emperor's army a matter of luck as much as judgement? We cannot be sure, but does not a skilled commander recognise the role of pure chance - or call it providence, if you prefer - in moulding the outcome of conflict? One who acknowledges fate, who recognises it, who seeks its influence, is in a position to benefit when it becomes manifest. Or, as a simple man once said, 'you make your own luck."
The Emperor had his artillery open fire immediately the mist lifted that morning. Well, why wait? Even as the last of his cannon was being dragged into position, unhitched from the horses that pulled it, the first were sending death to the heart of the Khan's army. They were proficient, the Emperor's gunners. While on campaign's they might suffer hardships, lack of comforts, lack of food even, but never did they lack powder, never did they lack practice.
To be under cannon fire is a terrible thing, reader. You may imagine it bad enough to have a comrade beside you struck by an arrow. To have him sink to his knees and ask you for help while he still can, for in seconds the pain will be such that he cannot talk. But imagine the whoosh of a ball through the air beside you. You feel the pressure of the wind it pushes before it. And then you turn to your comrades to see them gone. Vanished, five of them! Save for some unrecognisable flesh and gore left in the mud at your feet. In that moment, you will truly feel that your god has deserted you.
The Khan too called for his artillery to begin. And who knew that Teshka had Cannon? Not the Emperor. Perhaps, during their rebellion, they had taken the few pieces kept by the governor's garrison and copied them. But Teshka was never known for its foundries, for it's blacksmiths, for its men of science, for its craftsmen. The first balls fell short, into the soft, marshy land in the valley between the two armies. Then, with a bang that could be heard three leagues away, so they say, a large artillery piece exploded, killing many of the Khan's army around it. Those gunners who survived, deaf, maimed, terrified, could not be cajoled back to their positions by captains. And so the Khan's guns fell silent. Seeing this, the Khan had little choice but to order an advance into the swamp below. What else could he do? Hold position, and allow his men to be slowly slaughtered from afar as the hours went by? And so his center advanced and he with it, for he was no coward and knew that he must either prevail or die on this day. But on the flanks, the cavalry sent by his allies, fellow rebel states, did not move.
The Emperor ordered his front lines to the edge of the marshy terrain, but did not have them enter it. At the front, he had placed the Dragon Legion, three thousand elite warriors, recruited from the lands around Ephirum itself. They would fight to the death, and the Khan's men, soaked from the swamp, must approach them from below. And indeed, as the warriors came together, the Dragons held firm and many of the Khan's men died there on that soft grassy slope. But the Khan came to the front and fought bravely, rallying his army to the flag, and slowly their numbers began to tell, and the lines of the Dragons were diminished.
The Emperor, from his vantage point above, was gravely worried as he watched his greatest warriors become overwhelmed. Behind the Dragons stood the Foreign Legion, and then nothing! Nothing between the Khan and Ephirum itself, save three hundred leagues of land. And what of the Foreign Legion? The smallest legion, a rag-bag assortment of adventurers, escaped slaves, exiles and criminals from lands outside the Empire. Good for digging the army's ditches and emptying its latrines. But now they must fight! The Emperor's chief general leaned in to him and spoke urgently:
"My Lord, the day is lost! Look, the enemy's cavalry can easily take us from both sides. We must retreat, if we still can!"
"Strange," he replied, looking at the banners of the mounted troops behind the Khan's center. "Why do they not move? Where is Amin, leader of the Foreign Legion? I would give him orders."
