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After the Atúr had returned from their guerrilla harassment of the enemy’s supply lines in Raul territory bearing critical information, I called together an impromptu war council.
“All their cannons?” I said. “In one place?”
“Yes,” Péter Pál confirmed. “We sighted eighty-some small cannons being transported by the same unit.”
So the enemy were transporting their powerful, highly expensive weaponry to a single position? Yeah, right. “It has to be a trap,” I decided.
“Quite possible, quite possible,” Deputy General Bourgault-Ducoudray agreed vigorously. “Nevertheless, we may never come across an opportunity this providential again.”
I could understand his enthusiasm. Our biggest concern right now was the possibility of the enemy setting up their pot cannons on Mifeux Hill. It would all but guarantee our defeat, which was why we’d been racking our brains trying to come up with a solution. But obviously, if we could destroy all their cannons in one fell swoop, we’d eliminate the possibility of that scenario occurring.
Péter Pál pointed at a spot on the map. “I agree with the idea that it might be a trap. There were two other enemy units marching in the vicinity, and one was unmistakably the Raul mage corps.”
It was unclear whether the unit transporting the cannons were also the artillery crew, but in the event a skirmish took place, it would be safest to assume they were. What was clear, though, was their destination: Reydra.
“The mage unit numbers three hundred,” Péter Pál continued. “I recognized their standard—even among the Raul army, they are veterans. The other unit was tenfold their size, a mix of infantry and cavalry. All three units are positioned close enough to provide support to one another.”
Péter Pál was only reporting their position at the time of observation, so the units had undoubtedly moved already. However, it was likely that they were still close enough to support one another in an emergency, which was actually evidence against the idea that this might be a trap.
“Accounting for the time since observation...” Deputy General Bourgault-Ducoudray considered it for a moment before a note of excitement bled into his tone. “They should not be able to reach Reydra today. They’ll likely make camp in this area.” The implication was obvious: He wanted us to conduct a surprise night raid. “Incidentally, the unit of three thousand—were you able to tell if they were soldiers or conscripted militia?”
“I didn’t recognize their standard,” Péter Pál answered. “But they had a large number of cavalry and seemed well trained.”
So the chance of them being regular soldiers was high. That was quite possibly a cause for concern. “Those two additional units mean our losses would be significant,” I decided. “Even if we were to conduct a night raid, our chances of success seem slim.”
“Not quite so, Your Majesty,” the deputy general objected. “I believe their mage unit will not be camping in the same location.”
“What?”
Bourgault-Ducoudray proceeded to emphasize just how valuable battle mages truly were. Unlike the slapdash rookies we’d picked up for the emperor’s host, a genuine battle mage with combat experience was far more precious than a cannon, which could be produced in abundance so long as one had the materials. As such, rather than expose them to the elements and risk exhaustion or illness, it was common practice for an army to cater to their mages and keep them in peak condition.
It turned out that the Belvérian elites were something of an outlier for their acclimation to harsh living. The Raul mages were a much more typical example, full of the children of lower nobility, knights, and similar middle-gentry types. As a military asset, they were plenty formidable, but there was no denying that they were also coddled as hell.
Thus, the deputy general considered it basically a given that they would be spending the night in the town east of Reydra. Said town was situated by a river, which was far from rare, as settlements went, but it was relevant in this case because geographically, the cannon transport unit would be forced to cross it. And while there was a bridge to facilitate this, getting eighty cannons across would eat up a significant amount of time.
“In addition, the town cannot fit a unit of three thousand,” the deputy general finished. “They will certainly be camped nearby—and the artillery unit will likely be with them—while the mages spend the night indoors.”
“That still leaves three thousand potential guards,” I pointed out. “The force we would be able to dedicate to the endeavor would number...” I considered it for a moment. “About the same.”
“Indeed. And if we mobilize our infantry before sunset, it’s likely the enemy will catch wind of us. However, leaving it for after sunset would not allow our men enough time to make the journey on foot.”
With twenty thousand of the enemy at Reydra, they’d respond to any significant movements we made. In other words, if we were to carry out a night raid, our only options would be to use a small force, consisting of cavalry or Belvérian mages. It wouldn’t even hit four thousand.
“By tomorrow, they’ll have joined the main host in Reydra, and we will have lost our chance,” Deputy General Bourgault-Ducoudray said. “A night raid—this evening—is our only choice.”
I understood where he was coming from. Destroying all of the enemy’s cannons would eliminate our fatal vulnerability at Mifeux Hill. I wanted this just as badly as he did.
“Is that all of the enemy’s forces in the area?” I asked.
However, if this failed, we’d gain nothing; missing even a single cannon could lead to dire consequences. It didn’t matter if actual casualties were low—being under cannon fire alone would scare our militia out of their wits.
“It is,” Péter Pál confirmed. “As we did, the enemy are sending their cannons ahead of time.”
The most common types of cannon of this age broke down frequently, and if their wheels got stuck in the mud, it could take a whole day to get them unstuck and cleaned. You couldn’t just abandon them either—they were too effective in battle, and expensive besides.
We’d allotted plenty of time for the transport of our own cannons. More might be on the way, of course, in the event that the battle at Chelán Hill dragged on, but there was no point in thinking about that now.
“They may not be camped together, but the mage unit might still come to the cannon unit’s aid,” I reasoned. “Breaking through a unit three thousand strong and destroying eighty cannons before the mage unit’s arrival? We will not claim it is impossible, but neither will it be easy.”
Of course I wanted to eliminate the cannon unit. But this would all amount to nothing if it failed, even by a single missed cannon. And above all, it was precisely during moments of greed like this one that we had to be wary of enemy traps.
“I believe we should still take the gamble,” Baron Samuel le Bocuse said enthusiastically. “The odds are not disadvantageous, given what we stand to gain.”
Arnoul de Nunvalle seemed to favor a more prudent approach. “But if the raid fails...we’ll have lost precious cavalry for nothing,” he objected. “It is far too dangerous.”
Opinion among my lords seemed fairly split. It was all or nothing, but was it best to take the dive? I felt like it would be leaving too much up to chance.
“What about the Belvérian mages?” I asked.
“Around half possess mounts,” Salomon said. “They cannot match the speed of trained cavalry, but they would be able to join the raid.”
Despite his words, his expression made his reluctance clear. He probably didn’t expect the mages to be able to destroy that many cannons in such a short time frame. And if a battle broke out, they could suffer serious losses.
“Even if we contributed the imperial guard to the effort, the raiding party would still be forced to retreat once the enemy mages and infantry arrived,” I mused. “The crux of the matter is that there is too little time to destroy so many cannons.”
As I was mulling the problem over, Balthazar suddenly interjected. “Pardon me, Your Majesty, but may I speak?”
“You may.”
Being only a knight among upper nobility, Balthazar had refrained from saying much during these councils. I didn’t care how vocal he was, personally, but some of the others were sticklers for those kinds of formalities, so in that sense, the imperial guardsman’s reticence was smart.
However, it also meant that he had drawn the attention of every lord present by speaking up.
“A...general I once served favored the tactic of hunting enemy mages.” Balthazar spoke hesitantly, no doubt feeling nervous. “What if we did the same?”
He went on to explain that said general had often conducted night raids on enemy mage encampments out of a desire not to face them on the battlefield. With how valuable—and often well guarded—battle mages were, that was easier said than done, but the general had achieved it by persistently targeting the enemy supply chain in the lead-up, causing the enemy to mistake the night raid for another attack in the same vein. Then, once the ordinary troops had been lured away, he struck at the mages.