When Giacomo D’Acciaio woke, it was still dark out. His body didn’t want to wake up, it just wanted to rest, to vegetate. Giacomo fought the urge, and rising, stretched a little bit, and stepped outside. The sun’s rays were barely peeping over the horizon, but the sky was clear and it appeared that it would be a beautiful, but hot, day. It would certainly be a long one, too. Scouts reported that the army of Urbino was much less than a day's march away. He knew his own men were ready, all two hundred and fifty had been individually selected and fought numerous times. Would the 1000 men composing the army of Sicily be ready though? They had already lost a battle to Urbino under the command of Scipio Rossi, and most of them were inexperienced. Giacomo pushed the thought aside; there was nothing left to do about that now.
His train of thought was interrupted by his friend, Fredrico. “Buongiorno,” he called.
Giacomo smiled, “and a good morning to you too, my friend.” Fredrico was one of his most intelligent men, and although only in his twenties had already proved to be an excellent leader. He also served as Giacomo’s personal scout. “What news do you have to bring me?”
“Well sir,” began Fredrico, standing erect. “They are almost entirely composed of infantry, about one thousand. Based on where they were last we checked, they are heading towards a valley. This valley is surrounded by some hills, with minimal vegetation. I am not sure when they start marching, but it is most likely we will meet them somewhere inside there.”
“Thank you, Fredrico, grab a bite to eat, this will be very useful.” Giacomo pondered the situation that had just been described as he sat, blankly staring at the rising sun. For the leader of a group of mounted Condottieri, this could be the ideal battle. An idea in his head, he started to walk back to the command tent.
Back at the tent there were significantly less officers and commanders to deal with than when he had served in France, but it suited him better. He had much more control over what went on, and planning was much easier.
Fredrico sat at one end of the table, going back to devouring some bread after saying hello to his leader. The only other man to deal with was Scipio, who no longer had much say due to his embarrassing list of defeats. He didn’t take a glance at Giacomo, and had Scipio’s superior been more harsh, he would have gotten hell for it.
“I have a plan, and it should effectively dismantle the threat they pose to us.” Taking out a stick and starting to draw in the sand, Giacomo continued, explaining, “Fredrico, I hope you do not mind leading the infantry today instead of riding.”
Fredrico seemed like he couldn’t have been happier. He stood up, eyes lit, and shaking Giacomo’s hand, added, “it is an honor. I would be more than delighted.”
Giacomo smiled, “Fredrico, you will lead the infantry straight at the enemy, the battle will hopefully be in that valley you mentioned. When scouts report the army of Urbino is close, me and my riders will ride off. We will hide behind the hills, and once you engage, I want you to signal us. My men and I, and you too, Scipio, will ride in on their flank and hopefully break their ranks.”
Fredrico, enthusiastic from the idea of leading a regiment, agreed. “It sounds like a near flawless plan to me.”
Scipio, less enthusiastically, nodded, only replying “sure,” and then muttering something under his breath.
Giacomo ignored him, “excellent, we will set out in one hour. Make sure the infantry is familiar with the plan, and for the sake of moral make sure they know a wave of cavalry will be helping them”
While waiting for the battle, Giacomo pulled out his rosary beads. He was not worried in the slightest. If God willed it, he would win, and his enemies would be crushed, if not there was nothing to be done.
Several Hours Later…
As the deep moan of the horn disturbed the silence of the Italian countryside, Giacomo shouted, “Andiamo, Andiamo!” He spurred his horse, as did his other men, all shouting and letting out war cries. The wind invigorated Giacomo as he rushed over the hill, and the sight of the two armies fighting below excited him. Him and his men paused briefly, and then aligning themselves with the opposing army, Giacomo screamed “Caraciamo!” Him and his men began charging down the hill towards the enemy, and Giacomo couldn’t think of anything he would rather be doing than this, truly feeling alive. Never once did the thought that he may soon depart life come to his head.
As his sword was unsheathed, nothing seemed to exist in the world besides him, his sword, and the enemy. The distance seemed to close rapidly, and before he could even think he had sliced through a man.
He kept running through, trampling one man, dealing a fatal parry-repost to another. His slaughter continued, and was going well until he began to feel his horse shaking, then collapsing. He noticed a spear coming out the left side of its chest. Taking a giant leap away from his falling mount, he chopped downwards at a man’s face. The blades clashed, and after both men recovered from the impact, they stepped back and faced each other.
Giacomo briefly stared into the man’s eyes, no fear seemed present. His tactics would have been no different had the man looked scared for his life, but he felt better knowing what type of man he would be fighting. The two men nodded, both seemed to understand each other, and then the fight began. Blades clashing, they started at each other, both men waiting for the other to make a fatal mistake. The fight persisted less than a minute, and luckily for Giacomo the mistake he needed came, the man launched an unsuccessful feint and Giacomo seized the opportunity to parry and stab his own blade through the man. His opponent dead, he turned around to notice many of the enemy soldiers retreating.
A good amount of his men were finishing off opponents, some already cheering victory. So the battle had been won. After some of the remaining horsemen went off to pursue the retreating enemy, more and more cheers rang out. Despite the victory, Giacomo refrained from much celebration. Although it had been needed, many men had died. The ground was coated in blood and littered with corpses, the ugly products of his job. His job wasn’t even close to done, however. With the city of Urbino still walled off and undoubtedly prepared for a siege, it would be a long time before his job here was done.
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