Westrons

It certainly

looked

like their whole army. There was nothing wrong with my eyesight; I identified ten separate regiments, each with their ox-drawn artillery, headed in our direction. There could easily be even more troops behind these.

- "Fighting withdrawal." I told the Captain of the 1st. "Just as we practised."

I turned and jogged to the rear. There was a great deal to be done, and it had to be done quickly.

First, I sent the 3rd company forward, to leapfrog the rifles. "Open order. Skirmish. Pull back if they keep advancing. I'll have the 4th ready to replace you."

"Tallia - write out this message: 'Enemy army advancing directly at us, 10+ regiments plus artillery. Request immediate support. Will stand at village of Limset.' Include the map coordinates."

"Four copies - quick as you can. Two to Colonel Berandot, two to General Vis."

If I sent four runners, the message should get through.

Langoret arrived just as I sent off another company to reinforce the skirmishers. I filled her in on everything I'd seen, and what I'd done so far.

- "What are you suggesting?" she asked.

- "Remember those spots we passed, yesterday?"

- "The village? And the odd slope?"

- "Yes. I'm thinking that we could make a stand there. For a short while, at least."

Langoret looked concerned. "Ten regiments, Cook."

- "But they can't all come at us at once."

The road we'd been following wound its way through farmland and orchards, with occasional groves of mixed forest. In some places, we could have lined up five regiments shoulder to shoulder.

But in many other locations, there was limited space on either side of the road to deploy troops. Two or three regiments would have difficulty advancing in line abreast.

If the Crolians pursued us, we could lead them on, using our new tactics to snipe at them, to sting and harass them all the way.

And if we did stand - or

when

we made our stand - we could do so on ground of our choosing, with significant advantages. Not a Thermopylae, by any means, but something much more gradual, and more subtle.

Langoret looked me in the eye. I'm sure that she could sense how excited I was.

- "You think that we can do this."

- "I'm pretty sure we can." I said. "It's what we've been rehearsing for all year."

- "What is the worst case scenario?" she asked.

- "Nobody comes to help us. We have to spike our guns and run for it. But we'd get away, Langoret. They can't keep pace with us."

"And we'll have hurt them, badly, before that ever comes to pass."

Langoret nodded. "I believe that you have the rights of it, Colonel. What are your orders?"

We sent word to the ox-drawn artillery, turning them around, and sending them back to Limset. We got our three pounders sorted out, and set them up in trios.

I explained my intentions to Major Chardeia and Captain Faregil (2nd Company). Tallia heard it all, too, so that she'd have some idea of how I expected the day to go.

- "You might want to send a company back to the supply wagons, and have them bring more powder and shot for the rifles." I suggested.

Tallia reached into her satchel, and handed me a piece of paper.

- "Already written. It sounded like they were using quite a bit of powder up there."

I wanted to kiss her. I settled for leaning over, and whispering that thought into her ear. She grinned, and produced pen and ink so that I could sign the order.

Langoret and I went forward a bit, to watch the enemy advance. We were just in time to see the Crolian regiment halt. They were being harassed by 40 or 50 of my riflewomen, spread out in ones and twos over a front of half a mile.

But the Crolians were plainly frustrated. They presented muskets, and fired a volley.

I saw one riflewoman fall.

One of her companions ran over, and helped her to her feet. They withdrew together. Wounded, then; not killed.

The Crolians had fired 300 shots, give or take a few - for one hit.

Meanwhile, rifle shots could be heard almost constantly, at the speed of a two-finger typist. A Crolian soldier fell. Then another.

My sharpshooters were showing their skill, and the benefit of all their training. They were also shooting at a huge target: a wall of Crolian infantry, 300 wide by three deep.

Some of the riflewomen were so good, they were targeting officers - and hitting them.

But they'd been in action long enough. I had the recall sounded. As the rifles pulled back, the 3rd company advanced to replace them.

Skirmishers with muskets had to get much closer to be effective. Still, they were spread out over a wide front, and they were shooting as the same large target. They could also reload and shoot at a faster rate than the rifles. More shots - just less accurate.

The Crolian commander was plainly confused. He ordered another volley, which brought down two of our troopers. In the same period of time, however, at least half a dozen of his soldiers fell.

He chose to advance, and brush these gadflies aside.

The 3rd retreated, just as we'd taught them, leapfrogging by platoon. There was always someone shooting at the enemy. The Crolians could plainly see that there were very few troops opposing them. There was literally nothing to fire a volley at.

Yet they were taking continual losses. A man here, two there. Pinpricks. Bee stings. But the losses were beginning to add up.

- "It's amazing." said Langoret. "I apologize. It is ... just as you said."

- "Sometimes you have to see it, to understand." I said. "And there are plenty of officers who see it, and still don't get it."

That might have described the commander of the Crolian regiment. He could see his men falling. He fired volleys at our skirmishers, to little or no effect. Finally, he had his men fix bayonets, and charge.

3rd Company simply retreated, at a run. The Crolians were trotting forward, keeping their linear formation more or less intact. Our women simply outran them.

4th Company took the place of 3rd. They fired a few shots, and then retreated, because the Crolians continued to advance.

But the enemy regiment couldn't run for long. After a 1,000 yard jog, they halted, and re-dressed their lines.

5th Company got their chance, and advanced as a cloud of skirmishers.

The Crolian regiment suffered more casualties.

- "Can you see it?" I asked.

- "Their third line." said Langoret. "It's looking very sparse."

The lead enemy regiment had lost more than a hundred men - perhaps over 150. They weren't all killed, of course. But a wounded man who needed help to withdraw took 2 or 3 enemy combatants out of the equation.

The Crolian Colonel was either very courageous, or very stubborn. He kept pressing his advance, at a considerable cost in killed and wounded. Finally, he realized that his predicament was basically unsolvable. He withdrew.

I sent my 6th company forward, to harass the enemy as the pulled back.

The rifles wanted another crack at our foes. 2nd, 3rd and 4th companies expected the fun to continue, while 7th through 10th wanted their turn. That was only the Anelis; Langoret's regiment wanted a chance, too.

We sent for Langoret's 1st: her rifles. The Crolian lead regiment was pulling back, and a fresh second regiment was advancing in its place.

Langoret and I unleashed nearly 200 sharpshooters on them.

Whatever words of wisdom the Colonel of the lead regiment imparted to his colleague in the second unit obviously went unheeded. People so rarely profit from good advice, or listen to the voice of experience.

Their second regiment proceeded to make all of the same mistakes. They advanced in 3-deep line, presenting a massive target to our rifles.

When their casualties became noticeable, the Colonel halted, and fired several useless volleys. The whole time they did that, our sharpshooters lay down in the grass and chose their targets.

Langoret turned to me, her mouth half-open.

- "This is ... even better than you said. I can hardly believe it."

For the rest of that afternoon, the second Crolian regiment repeated every single mistake that their predecessors had made. We inflicted significant losses, while suffering very few of our own.

Their next decision was to bring forward artillery.

Our riflewomen had a field day.

What's the point of firing a cannonball at a single individual, 200 yards away? The guns were smoothbores - meant to be fired at large, compact formations. The Crolians lost quite a few gunners, and more officers, before they sent the first regiment forward again, to screen their guns.

We sent another four messengers, in case the first ones hadn't gotten through. We also rotated our skirmishers, to give as many companies as possible a little action.

At dusk, as the visibility faded, we pulled out troopers back 2,000 yards. I didn't anticipate a night attack, but we preferred to be safe rather than sorry.

Langoret and I received reports from our company commanders: we'd lost 11 killed and 17 wounded.

We gathered all of our captains, and explained the situation to them. Their confidence was sky-high, after a successful day.

- "Tomorrow may not be so pretty." I said. "You have to tell your troopers that. There will be some pain, until the rest of the army arrives to support us."

- "But we are very pleased with your performance today." said Langoret.

We discussed possibilities for a time, and then ate dinner. Langoret went off for further discussions with her own captains.

No sooner was she gone than I felt a hand on my ass.

- "

That was amazing to watch.

" said Oshide, as she pretended to whisper in my ear. In fact, she was nibbling on my ear lobe.

- "I thought your hemmer was over." I said.

- "It is." she said. "But I'm already looking forward to the next one."

She and Yehla followed me as I circulated through the companies. They'd done well today, and deserved to hear it from me.

It was quite late before I was comfortable that I'd talked to everyone I needed to. Tallia waited patiently as I expressed my last worries aloud.

- "You need to sleep." she said.

- "I feel like I forgot something."

- "It's too late to do anything about that. If it makes you feel better, I'll wake you before dawn."

- "Promise?"

- "Lie down." When I did, Tallia crawled into my arms, and turned around, presenting me her back - and that taut little ass.

- "Tallia ..."

- "Shh .." she hissed. "Go to sleep."

- "It won't be easy to sleep, with ..."

- "Then do something about it." she suggested. "And then you can go to sleep."

I'm reasonably certain that Robert E. Lee or Stonewall Jackson never got laid the night before a battle. I'd bet that Oliver Cromwell never did. Marlborough, on the other hand ...

Tallia reached back, and tucked my growing erection inside her.

- "You're ... a bad influence." I said.

She just chuckled, and thrust her ass back at me.

***

At first light, we took another good look at the maps. Tallia wrote up a second set of messages to Colonel Berandot and General Vis, and we sent off four more runners.

The Crolians, meanwhile, were deploying four regiments, side by side. They were also bringing up ox-teams and unlimbering guns.

I should have worried about them doing that by night. If their guns had been in place before first light, they could've inflicted some casualties on us.

Instead, we simply retreated.

Our own artillery was already on its way back to the little village of Limset. We had nothing here but foot soldiers and our light 3-pounder guns. We were on our way and well out of range before the enemy had set up a single battery.

Oshide and Yehla hovered near me at all times; Tallia was close by, too.

Two leagues before the village, we came to the second spot I'd identified as advantageous. There was a stream - the barest trickle of water, but it had steep banks, so that a bridge of stone and wood had been built to cross it.

It was scarcely necessary for soldiers: a quick hop and a jump, and they could be across the stream without even getting their feet wet. But it was a much more serious obstacle for ox-drawn artillery.

The little bridge was the only way across for them - and it was barely wide enough for one team to pass at a time.

On our side of the stream was a farm. I felt sympathy for the first hardy family that tried raising livestock or growing crops here. The ground must have been covered with rocks and stones at one time. They had moved them, one at a time.

They'd built the bridge, and a low stone wall to enclose two of their fields. Good cover for our skirmishers, which I'd spotted right away.

But our side of the stream was also somewhat narrower than the far side. If four Crolian regiments arrived in line abreast, and crossed the stream, they'd find it a tight fit on the other side. And if they advanced ...

They did.

Four Crolian regiments came across, and found that there was only enough space for three. After some confusion and conferencing, the fourth regiment was sent back across the other way.

All this took time, of course. While the Crolian Colonels met and conferred, and sent back to their General for instructions (who knows where

he

was), time passed.

Our soldiers, hunkered down behind the stone wall, had a field day. There was no shortage of targets.

The 3- pounders added to the enemy's consternation. Eight or nine-pounders might have swept them from the field entirely, in bloody ruin. But our little guns contributed to the damage.

It's extremely unpleasant to stand still while someone is shooting at you. It's very disconcerting when the person next to you is hit. The Crolians repeatedly fired back at us, but the effect was minimal. It was probably just to keep their troops occupied, and make them feel as if they were at least striking back.

But they could tell that we had cannon, however small, while they had none.

That was probably why they attempted to do two things at once. The three regiments began to advance, in line. At the same time, they began to bring up their artillery, to cross the bridge.

Langoret's 1st Company were in the woods to the south, some 300 yards from the bridge. My 1st company was to the north, in a smaller copse of trees, and a little farther away.

As instructed, they let two guns cross the bridge before they opened fire.

Both oxen pulling the third gun went down. The bridge was now blocked. Gunners and drivers began to fall. The fourth gun team, still on the far side of the stream, was hit. The next teams in line began to turn around and retreat.

The gun teams already across were sitting ducks. One crew didn't even try to unlimber their gun; they took cover.

The officer commanding the fourth Crolian regiment showed some initiative: he shortened his line, and marched towards the little copse where my riflewomen were posted.

They had neither the numbers nor the rate of fire to defend the position. As they'd been instructed to do, they withdrew.

Meanwhile, the Crolians advanced on us. At 100 yards, they stopped, straightened their lines, and fired a volley. It had little to no effect. But they made great targets for our muskets, and the 3-pounders couldn't seem to miss.

The Crolians calmly fixed bayonets. Then they resumed their advance.

Now they began to take fire in the flanks, from companies we'd posted in an orchard to the south, and behind a stone wall which ran parallel to their line of march on the north side.

The Crolians weren't stupid; they just hadn't seen this type of fighting before, and their command structure was no more flexible than the traditional Westron organization. They weren't cowards, either - they kept coming.

We had, at best, a regiment and a half to receive them. But we also had some cover, and twelve little cannon. Those little guns repaid the investment we'd made.

The Crolians halted at forty paces, and fired a volley. That one did some damage; we took losses. But our answering volley, bolstered by a dozen 3-pounders, was hard for the enemy to take. It changed their minds.

They didn't press home the attack. Instead, they began to retire.

Yes, if they had charged, the fight might have gone their way. But ask yourself this: would you have been willing to charge straight into the mouth of a cannon?

Horses can balk before a jump; so can people - especially in groups. Even Napoleon's Old Guard finally broke, at Waterloo. The firing on their flanks and behind them must have helped to influence their decision, too.

The enemy retreated all the way to the stream.

It was a victory, of sorts. Our soldiers were elated. They were a little surprised when I ordered an immediate withdrawal.

The farm and the stream had served their purpose. If we stayed there, though, the Crolians would clear away our sharpshooters, and bring heavy guns across. Once that happened, we would start to take heavy casualties.

So we pulled out before they expected us to, and marched for the village of Limset.

***

Tallia came through for me again; she'd ordered up more powder and shot for the units which had been in action. She'd also written up a summary of the action to date, which I sent off to Berandot and Vis.

If they were marching towards us, we had a chance to win a significant victory.

If they weren't, then we'd be in serious trouble before dark.

- "Will they arrive in time?" asked Langoret.

- "I hope so."

- "Regardless of what happens after this, you should be proud, Cook." she said. "Your ideas have been vindicated. This is a major achievement."

- "Thank you. It wouldn't have been possible without you, and your regiment."

- "It is

your

achievement." she insisted.

- "You misunderstand me, Langoret. I'd be dead. You saved my life - and most of the Anelis - at Tonol. We bit off more than we could chew, and you saved us."

She didn't quite get the 'biting and chewing' reference, but Langoret knew what I was saying. She smiled.

- "Still trying to share the credit for Tonol, are you?" she said.

- "Till the end of my days."

We had time to meet with our captains, and to repeat our instructions.

Limset was at a crossroads, of sorts, which would allow Berandot's brigade to reach us more quickly - if they were coming.

It was on a rise, at the top of a deceptively steep hill. I'd looked back, the day before, when we were at the bottom of that long slope. I could barely see the village.

If the Crolians set up artillery down below, they wouldn't quite be able to see us. Indirect artillery fire was a rare skill, in Earth's 18th century; I could only hope that the same held true for the here and now.

Limset had a sizeable barn, and perhaps fifteen dwellings. Like the farm at the stream, they were built of stone, which was plentiful. The walls of the houses were of stone for the first three or four feet, and then of wood thereafter, with wood shingles for a roof.

The inhabitants - Crolians - had all fled at our approach. There was no one to apologize to, when we vandalized their houses. The troopers made loopholes in the wooden walls, to see and to shoot through.

On our right, there were a dozen excellent little fortresses, as each house could be turned into a strongpoint. Langoret put three of her companies into the houses, and posted the rest of her regiment behind them.

On the left, there was the barn - another strongpoint. I put my 6th Company in there. There was a gap between the barn and the rest of the village. We sited Langoret's artillery in the gap.

Aneli's artillery went to the far side of the barn. We also placed six of the 3-pounders, and kept the remainder in reserve.