The Free Company and the Spanish Gold

[Mettermrck]

August 7, 1565 - Corradino Heights

Thus far, the battle had progressed well for the artillery and Adelmar was feeling the confidence of practicing his craft under the greatest of hardships. Was it possible…he was beginning to enjoy himself? He saw a shadow over his shoulder and before he could turn and figure out who he was, the grating voice of Lieutenant Gunshy flared out at him.

"Adelmar what bloody merciful blue hell are you doing in command of this gun, only experienced men command gun crews!" The artillery lieutenant rumbled. "Look what your doing, you and Llywarch are giving contradictory orders and your slowing the guns rate of fire down. "There is only one Gun crew leader, and it's not you. Not for some time."

His face reddened, and before he could stop himself, his instincts took over, outraged that this shouting oaf would dare presume to question his competence. "But sir I'm the most competent and professional here and I...", but then he cut himself off, realizing that even a mercenary company had propriety, even if it meant being respectful to the inferior.

Gunshy, angered, lashed out again. "Shut up Adelmar, and follow orders, or you get shot at the next wave up the hill." Privately, Adelmar thought Gunshy, rather than he, was worth more in the next wave, with him as the proper artillery lieutenant. Again, the foolish propriety. So be it. ”The next wave?” he asked, deciding to play the deferent. He rode out the next tongue-lashing and nodded stiffly, though privately he thought the man was full of it. Llywarch was nowhere to be seen, and his own training told him that his guns had been firing quite rapidly and accurately. Perhaps the Lieutenant needed someone to prod. So be it, he would play the foil.

”Very well, sir. Mr. Llywarch has the shot,” not adding that he couldn’t spot the Welshman. He turned back to the De Bloomfield, trying to ignore the grins of the gun crew, not sure if they enjoyed his embarrassment or were simply commiserating with him. He cleared his throat, wincing under more profanity, though this time the Lieutenant was lashing all of them. ”Gentlemen, as the Lieutenant requests. Load the aforementioned guns, if you please.” Still smarting, he stooped to help with the loading process, hoping Gunshy would forget him and move on down the line. The fools he had to work with!

 

[Valdemar]

The Musket formation centre, right before the second wave

Diego smiled in appreciation as the men flowed into horns on the sides of the pike squares. He noted how they by themselves stepped back as the Turk pressed on and kept up the fire from slightly behind the pike front.

However as the Turk pressured the front he noticed something that made him frown, and as the enemy fell back to regroup he sent a runner to fetch the other Musketeer sergeants.

“Friends, I’ve noticed how we might get into trouble and prove to be a liability, the Turk are hitting our front as one, not three separate formations, and as such our four horns in the passages between the pikes are the vulnerable link, just barely covered by the corners of the pikes.”

A few of the senior men nodded,

“So, I suggest that unless the pikes step apart then we narrow the lines of the four centre horns and move the pikes to the flanks of the two outer formations, adding firepower to the flanks of the front.”

Again nods spread amongst the senior men,

“In short, I suggest taking two full files from each of the four central horns, reducing them to tree wide and five deep, then merge the four central horns into two larger formations, six by five.”

Rodriquez nodded,

“and the rest?”

“Take the four files of five men to each of the flanks, making the flanks nine by five, that should add plenty of flanking fire, even allow them to move forward a bit firing the flanks of the Turk as they approach.”

He could see it was going too fast for some of the men,

“It will be like this, starting at the far left near the cannon, nine wide by five, then the first pike formation, the six musketeers wide by five, then the second pike, another six wide by five, the last pike formation, and finally on the far flank another large sleeve of muskets, nine wide by five.”

As he explained he drew a rough schedule on the ground and heard gruff noises of agreement, he looked up,

“Are we agreed?”

The men nodded and dispersed to carry out the move, and Diego only hoped he wasn’t taking too many liberties with the command structure.”

 

[Valdemar]

Behind the infantry formations

Yussuf had watched dispassionately as Diego went on another of his foolhardy missions then settled back near the back end of the pikes, certain work would come to him soon enough.

He had aided a horseman with a slight wound, but so far the company’s own physicians had handled whatever casualties had been arriving, his own abilities unknown to anyone but the few who had been present in the cannon billet in Medina.

Soon a call went up calling for a doctor, and with no one else responding he had stepped up to the man with the leg would. He could still stand so Yussuf estimated it to be less serious than it looked, but had nonetheless bent to investigate, only to be met with the coarsest of comments.

"So, I'm wounded by a Turk, and then the person that goes to fix me up is a bloody--"

"I am a doctor, that should be enough for you." Yussuf bent over the leg reaching for his bag as the other soldier left with one final shot,

"Alright, go ahead. Cosimo, get back to the battle, and get some more of those damn Turks!"

Yussuf murmured to himself, loud enough to be heard by the wounded man,

“Not all that do not believe in Christ the saviour are Turks, ignorant infidel.”

He examined the wound, it was still bleeding, but not too deeply, he wouldn’t have to sow unless the man had busted the muscles below. He was pouring water over the wound to see when another voice interrupted,

“Need help?”

Yussuf looked up, he remembered the face of the young man accompanying the beuatiful chin a few days earlier,

“You a doctor?”

“Yes, well apprentice,”

“Good, I have a few strips of cloth let me see you bind the wound while I hold it together.”

He watched as the young man’s hands shook slightly, but he didn’t drop anything.

 

[Voshkod]

August 7, 1565 - Corradino Heights

The loading of De Bloomfield was proceeding quickly. Dudley was barking out the orders. "Clear the tube! Clean the tube!" The roar of battle was building. "Powder! Wadding!" He watched as they pricked the cartridge. The man with the linstock looked expectantly at him.

"Fire," shouted Dudley, but the linstock didn't move. He turned toward the gun to shout it again when he heard the Welshman's voice from behind him.

"Come on boy, you heard the man. Fire." The cannon roared. Dudley watched the shot range downfield, landing admist the Turk and taking two nice low bounces, ripping redly through their ranks like a hammer falling on mice. Then he turned around, shouting in chorus with Llywarch "Clean her, clean her!"

Llywarch was bleeding badly from the side of his face. One arm hung limply by his side, and he was clearly favoring his left leg. As Dudley stared mutely, the wet sponge plunged into the barrel of De Bloomfield, and the smell of burning vingear, mixed with the acrid haze of burnt powder, filled the air.

"God's wounds! What happened to you?," Dudley asked in surprise.

They both shouted "Let her cool!," before Llywarch responded, first with a string of Welsh curses, then in something close to English.

"I was squatting back there dealing with the flux when some thrice-cursed cavalry man ran me over with his poxy horse. Left me for dead in my own mud, the bastard." He turned toward the gun crew. "Knock out a quion, take it down a half-degree." They went at it with hammers.

"Let's see if we can land one in front of them and get a good bounce into their first rank. Scare the hell out of them." Just then his leg finally gave out, and Llywarch fell heavily to the ground. "The gun's yours, boy. Don't let Gunshy tell you other."

 

[N Katsyev]

August 7, 1565 - First Wave Repulsed on the Heights

The muskets had made a good fighting retreat back to the relative safety of the pike lines, but the freshness of battle was quickly wearing off for the men. They had had to make a firing withdrawal, often right in the face of Turks and the adrenaline in their veins would soon ebb away. Immediately however Nikolai recognized the precariousness of their situation. The muskets and only the muskets in their horns were forming a link between the various pike formations, dangerously exposed joints if there ever were any. However, as the Russian set his berdysh into the ground and fired a shot into the Turkish mass, it was clear that nothing could be done about it now.

For the moment, Nikolai was just happy the withdrawal was over, and in the most relative of senses they had something of a quiet moment as the Turkish wave broke against the readied pikes. The musketeers quickly reloaded, set, aimed and as the Turks prepared to once again heave themselves upon the pikes they were greeted by the rattling of so much shot. Men not already caught in the vicious forest of pikes, crumpled before the withering fire but there were always ample replacements. The process repeated itself with terrible and frightening rapidity and the Turks were obviously beginning to falter under their seemingly impossible situation. Then, Nikolai's fears proved quite well-founded.

Like water trying to force its way upon a path, so the Turks now tried to force themselves forward, through the pikes, even over and beneath the pikes, most dire for the musketeers, between the pikes. With a blood curdling battle cry the Turkish infantry surged forward again with such seeming strength and determination that it almost seemed possible for them to sweep the Company's pikes from the field with the sheer force of effort and desire. However now they surged even between the pikes formations, the corners too occupied to offer much protection to the muskets. The only thing between the Turk's renewed offensive and the vulnerable insides of the Company formations was a handful of musketeers in Nikolai's horn.

The muskets let out one final volley, which seemed to have particularly dire rattle through the air as assaulted as it was by the ambience of battle. Yet the now seeming paltry few shots seemed to take down precious few of the Turk that now threatened to overrun Nikolai and his comrades. Fyedorovitch threw his still smoking musket to the ground and with his now free hand pulled his Turkish sabre from its scabbard, yelling a grizzly challenge to the oncoming Turks. His comrades, those with cold steel weapons now followed the Russian's lead, the man with the dark stubble included pulling a vicious looking dirk from his belt. Those without cold steel feel back and desperately reloaded as quickly as they could. The violent cry still escaping his lips, Nikolai flung himself at the Turks, bringing his berdysh down with a high arc. He felt the head of the heavy weapon breach flesh and bone but took no notice of where it fell, only let go of the handle and thrust forward with his sabre. The terrible melee was rapidly joined by his comrades and it was nigh on impossible to make any sense of the close-quarter fighting that bathed all involved in a wash of hot gore. The fighting lasted only so briefly before Nikolai felt something heavy push down on his shoulder, before he could even react something exploded right in front of his face. A Turk that had been right before him was sent hurtling back into the mass of his companions. The musketeers gone to reload had moved forward, and bracing their guns on the shoulders of those in the melee had fired another volley into the Turks. The water could not pass, and so it resceded. The Turks began to hastily withdraw, leaving Nikolai and his comrades bloody but far from broken, only two of them had fallen and only one of these died shortly after from a terrible wound to the throat.

The fierce moments of hand to hand fighting bought them precious few moments of respite. Those that had cast away their muskets now took them up again and began hastily reloading as their comrades poured sparse shot into the fleeing enemy. Already however it was clear another wave was organizing, even as these retreated making apparent as they went the terrible price of their attack as bodies lay scattered about the field, and even in heaps where they had met the lines of the Company. Even here before the muskets were a good cluster and the battle had only just begun.

The Turks weren't the only ones reorganizing however, it wasn't long before a runner came who upon seeing Nikolai's blood covered horn looked curiously on the scene only a moment before surmising what must have happened. Much to the horn's dismay however, he hadn't come with extra supply, water or relief, he had come to take half their men to the flanks. It was promised that the pikes would edge in to provide better cover, though Nikolai couldn't help but feel that this would not deter a direct assault on them as had happened last time, if anything it may just make it that much harder to repulse. This was not to say that Nikolai was in any way dismayed by this any more than the minimum that any human would be, seeing his own existence put in that much more threat, instead he understood that what was happening was probably for the betterment of the whole. The Russian had come to respect Diego enough to give him this credit and even what could be called peace of mind.

There was a dread chanting emanating from below them. Nikolai's horn fell instinctively into place, readied their muskets and took aim. Their two files having just left, those that remained felt suddenly that they were being depended upon that much more. The chanting got louder and louder, seeming to drown out the fire of the artillery. It seemed to Nikolai that the Turk believe if they could chant out the sound of the guns, they could chant out the effect of them as well. Surely it seemed that even when a well placed shell landed among them, they barely flinched, the notes of the chant remained the same, steady, encouraging. It was quite clear that these men would not be so easy to repel. The head of his berdysh covered in a dark blood, probably that of a lung now propped up his musket once more as he took aim. The faces of those of those in the front rows began to be clearly discernable and Nikolai tensed as he awaited the inevitable command to fire…

 

[redwolf]

August 7, 1565 - Corradino Heights

"Sir, look like the Turks are retreating." reported Ogedai.

"Should we harry them?" Sergeant Horn asked eagerly.

Cai considered for a moment before shaking his head,"No, i don't think so. There are still more Turks coming. Save the horses for the next waves. In the meantime get some rest."

As the Light Cavalry rested, Glory arrived with the reiters. Glory rode up to Cai," Good thrashing we gave them."

"It's only the beginning and there's a lot more fresh Turks they can bring into the battle."

In the distance, horns sounded signalling the arrival of the next wave of Turks.

Sergeant Ogedai rode up to them," Sir, next wave's arriving and they have cavalry with them this time."

Sergeant Edwards snorted," Not surprising, considering the bloody nose we gave them last time."

Cai silenced him with a hand," How many horses?"

"800-900, maybe a thousand." Oegedai replied.

"Even with the reiters and Light Cavalry combined, we are still outnumbered 2-1." Glory half muttered to himself.

Cai took a look at the distant dust storm being kicked up by the advancing Turks before turning back to Glory and the sergeants," Well we need to neutralise those cavalry. So any suggestions?"

 

[TheWildFerret]

7 August 1565, the heights near the cannons

Renault watched as the Turks advanced on the Company and smiled. He knew that the Turks were expecting an easy time of it. After all they had superior numbers. What they failed to realize was that the Free Company had the terrain. They would be able to turn back blocks that were many more time their number.

Renault turned to a fellow Ranger and commented, “Does this Turkish commander not understand the use of rifles and artillery? After all it’ll take more then just the Chaff to dislodge us from here. What a fool.”

The other Ranger merely snickered and nodded his head as well. They both looked forward at the cannons and their crews as they labored over their metal beasts. The gun crews were at near hysterical pitch with their loading and firing. Although they were an unruly lot thanks mostly to their commander they definitely knew how to fire cannon.

Renault watched as Gunshy began to dig into a gunner for some reason. He couldn’t hear over the crack of the cannon but it looked like a good brow beating. The Ranger shrugged as it was not really of any importance to him and continued to watch the battle unfold. So far he and his men were lucky. The Turk seemed intent on breaking the center and sent no one their way. He and his men needed a break from the continuous time in the field and killing.

They were lounging behind the cannon getting a quick bite of food and water. As they sat they watched as the Turkish blocks seemed to disappear beneath the hail of fire from the muskets and cannon and then the remaining men get skewered upon the sharp points of the pikes. This kind of battle was very much one sided. The Turks came on unprepared for the cannon and muskets. They wouldn’t make that mistake twice.

Well time for us to start earning our pay…

Spotting the one eyed Ranger Renault raised his voice over the din of the gun crews, “ARPAD! Gather the men!”

The Ranger ran off to collect the men and have them form a rough semi-circle around the Sergeant. “Alright boys, this time they’ll be coming back with a vengeance and most likely will have some of their infantry types coming this way. Luckily we have the advantage of the slope so we don’t need to worry about cavalry. So what I want you boys to do is form up in skirmish formation in front of the cannons about halfway down the slope. Our job isn’t to stop the Turks, it’s to delay them. I want you boys to get out there and try to make the terrain as inhospitable as possible.”

The men nodded at that, after all what hope could fifty men have in trying to stop a block of a thousand or more infantry. They would have to delay the Turk while one of the infantry blocks maneuver into position. As the men prepared their equipment and began making their way down the hill Renault walked over to Gunshy.

The artillery lieutenant ground his teeth, his people were going to take a beating this battle, he could feel it. "Come on you worthless shit eating monkeys, load those damn guns!" He called out.

“A word Gunshy,” Renault spoke from behind him causing the Artilleryman to start slightly.

“Dammit Jonathon didn’t Captain tell you to stop sneaking up on people like that?”

“Well in a word… no…”

Gunshy merely grumbled beneath his breath at the Ranger Sergeant. “What the hell do you want? Can’t you see I’m a little busy here?” He responded in his most sarcastic voice.

“Well no… I see your men are busy while you harass them with your overpowering breath, but that’s beside the point. I came over to tell you that my Rangers will be forward of your position and try not to take off our heads. We’re going to try and slow the Turk down until we can get some support. IF we get support.”

Gunshy grumbled and said, “I’ve thought about that and sent the Quartermaster’s boy off to Captain to get some reinforcements out this way.”

“Good, but that will take time especially if they press up the center hard this time. We may be out here in the breeze for a little while.” Gunshy grunted and Renault continued, “We’ll do what we can but you may want to get yourself and men prepared for some close in fighting. Might think about that stuff you were experimenting with, you know the nails down the cannon tube trick?”

“I know what I was doing, not my fault the gun crew overcharged the damn cannon. Besides they recovered, granted the cannon had to be melted down and recast, but the point remains it worked.”

“I know,” Renault raised his hands to placate the Gunner, “I was merely pointing out that it may come down to that.”

“Besides I won’t let the Turks have my babies. I’d rather ruin them then let those bastards touch them.”

“I would have to agree with you there old Gunner.”

“I’ll have to see what that damnable Martel has in stores I can use. Speaking of which… what the hell is he doing up here?”

They both watched as the man rode up and dismounted quickly. He looked out over the area towards the bay below. He started making mental notes and looking through a spy glass. Frustrated for a moment he then proceeded to climb up a rock face that placed him above everything.

“That fool trying to get us all killed?” Gunshy began into a tirade of comments about Martel’s lineage.

“Oh wonderful. Here comes the Turk as well. Just great, now we’ll have the Quartermaster stuck up here with us and making a pretty target in that nice white shirt. Perhaps I should go… talk… to him.” Gunshy smiled at Renault knowing what such a talk will be like.

Renault walked over to where the Quartermaster was surveying the area below. “Good view Martel?”

“Hmmm?” Martel continued to look out over the bay.

“With all due respect Quartermaster this is no time to be daydreaming and composing sonnets. Climb down if you would?”

“In a moment”

Okay polite is not getting his attention

Renault climbed up behind the man and grabbed him by the back of his neck and jumped down to where he was just standing, bringing Martel with him in a rather unpleasant way. Renault landed lightly while Martel landed in a heap. Quickly he regained his feet and rounded on the Ranger Sergeant.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing Sergeant?!”

“Well Quartermaster, I thought perhaps I would save your worthless hide while you were of still some use to this Company. Now I would suggest… strongly… that you remain down here and behind the cannon. I expect we’ll have company soon.”

“And where do you get the authority to tell me what to do Sergeant.” Martel let venom drip off the last word.

Renault’s face went dead, the light in his eyes dulled and became very cold. He looked the Quartermaster over quickly, “I get my authority from no one, but if you need a lesson I would be more then happy to persuade you. Look quartermaster, I am an Officer in this Company, you are a baggage train specialist, you have just entered my area of command. Therefore you will obey me or I will make you obey me. Am I clear?”

“No, I will not tolerate this tone of yours Sergeant.”

“I really don’t care Supplyboy but you will follow my orders for your life and those of my men and Gunshy’s men depend on it.”

Martel flinched at the flinty tone the Ranger’s voice took on. It was almost as if the man was whispering but at the same time allowed it to carry to him even with the loud din going on about them.

“Look Renault, I’m just doing my own scouting, mostly of the Turk Armada. It’s important…”

“I really don’t care Martel, you could be shot while standing up high like that. You are a painfully easy target to mark. The Turk may not have a lot of rifles but they still have bows and they can fire a good distance with enough power to kill a man. Then we would be without an honest to god good quartermaster. As they say we move on our bellies.”

Martel seemed to be getting more and more frustrated as he talked to the Ranger. He needed the information he had seen below but this man was denying him that option.

“Look Renault I’m going to get the information I need.”

“You will but after the battle, I hate to have to tie you to one of the cannon. I’m sure Gunshy wouldn’t like that either.”

The quartermaster could see that there was no use in trying to get this man to relent. He saw it in the eyes of the Ranger. Martel nodded his assent and went to get behind the cannons and play at being a good boy for the Ranger. He muttered on his way back about the stupid ways of soldiers and their ideas for those around them.

“Sergeant!!!!”

Renault groaned as he turned around, “Now what?”

 

[Valdemar]

Aboard the Turkish flagship, the main anchorage

Piali stood impassively on the master deck of his flagship as the assorted officers from the Ottoman fleet squabbled and discussed the most recent developments. He had called for an assembly and relayed the news of the attack and the identity of the attacker and gotten exactly the reaction he had expected.

The institutional fear of the Free Company that ran deep in any force under the Sultan immediately made even the hardy Captains that would never have to face the company turn into a frenzy of debate. He turned his gaze away from his most trusted men and fell upon the fringes of the group. Here stood the Captains and leaders of the Corsairs, each group represented by at least a few men, their leader and senior Captains.

They watched detachedly as the Turks discussed, but did not partake. They had come as a direct order had been issued, and to protect their own interests, and nothing that happened ashore made them care, they only stayed for the spoils of the Knights’ defeat.

The young admiral let the men squabble a bit before cutting in,

“Stop bickering, we have a new situation, we will adapt.”

He turned on his most senior men, men that held the most powerful commands, the ones commanding the large galleys and Galleasses of war.

“I want you to turn your ships towards the shore, whatever meagre protection we can offer the supply lines will have to come from your guns. We also need to sweep the beach of whatever guns can be brought to bear on our ships. I want to make one thing clear, any danger to our shipping comes first.”

The men nodded in understanding; even if they knew it might mean abandoning troops on the ground, or the shore. He turned to the commander of the transports,

“The beach will not be a secure place you will sail the supplies to Gallows point and unload the daily needs there, for Mustafa pasha to use.”

He held up a hand to stall the objections,

“You will do as ordered, I do not care how treacherous that beach is, the old landing is not usable.”

He looked at the collected Corsairs, looking haughty and superior as they watched the Turks scurry to make ends meet.

“Do not look too complacent gentlemen. The enemy arrived on ships. Ships that slipped through your net. Ships that would have been worth quite a bounty.”

He saw a few faces turn thoughtful,

“Imagine what the Sultan would have given the Captain who had landed the Free Company Standard in Istanbul?”

A few reluctant nods, Piali smiled thinly,

“I can promise you this though, you will go looking for the navy that brought them, not many that could have dared to break my blockage, and most of those Captains sit in fort St Angelo now, holed up. The Venetians had the strength, the Genoese the seamanship.”

He looked at the corsairs,

“Bring me news of who it was, bring me proof of where they landed,”

His voice grew cold,

“Bring me the Captains of their ships, and most importantly, bring me surety that the Free Company cannot leave this Island again.”

His eyes bore into the Corsairs, Honourless rats,

“Bring me this, or the bounty of the knights will be forever out of reach.”

He waved his hand and turned his back,

“Dismissed.”

He held up his hand,

"Oh wait, I forgot, Mustafa Pasha orders one fifth of your men ashore, to cover the siege while he deals with this little problem. I'm sure the worthy corsairs can spare these men? If nothing else it will bring you closer to any riches of the Knights."

Better them than my own men, let Mustafa deal with this rabble for once

 

[unmerged(42352)]

7 August 1565, the heights

"Why me? Doesn't he have runners for this?"

William was past the cannons, running quickly across the hillside. Somewhere behind him one of the large cannon thundered, followed a split second later by a second. In the distance the command post was visible already.

"I can tell them apart out here?" It was an odd thought, but seemed somehow in place with the surreal day. From his left the sounds of the Turks clashing headfirst into the pikes made his running tempo increase. The open scrub ground was somehow less reassuring that in the midst of the cannons. Another cannon volley announced itself, first one and then the second.

"I CAN tell them apart!" Williams face was flush with victory at the realization. He tried to pick apart the silence, placing the mental images with the sounds. He'd settled on a reasonable explanation of who did what as he burst head first into the command area. He looked around, seeing the Free Company commander on his horse. His mouth moved before his mind.

"The gunners say the turn to flank and help!"

The Captain turned and looked at William, then burst into a laugh. William immediately laughed, then turned pale. After composing himself he tried again. "I'm sorry mi'lord. The gunners say that they think the Turks will try to turn the flank, and that they need assistance to hold them off!"

 

[redwolf]

7 August 1565, baggage train

MeiFeng and WeiBao can hear the distant boom of the Free Company canons, meaning battle is joined between the Company and the Turks.

MeiFeng paced the area anxiously, waiting for news of the battle but no messengers came. Suddenly she stopped, a look of determination on her face and started to walk away from WeiBao.

WeiBao quickly ran up to her and stopped her, "Oh no you don't whatever you are doing, I am not going to let you do it." MeiFeng looked at her brother's determined face, bit back whatever she was going to say and went back to pacing the floor.

WeiBao kept a close eye on her, not trusting her not to doing anything funny, but in the heat of the sun, his eyelids got heavier and he started to nod off.

The next thing he heard was the sound of galloping hoofs followed by the shouts of one of the stable boys

"Wait, Miss, you can't take the horse!"

His eyes shot open and his heart sank when he did not see MeiFeng anywhere. Racing out of the tent, he saw one of the young stable boys cursing away, and further away racing away out of sight, MeiFeng.

WeiBao didn't bother to curse. He ran back inside his tent, grabbed his weapons, sprinted to where the spare horses were saddled and quickly grabbed one of them.

The same stable boy was walking back when WeiBao's horse shot past him as well. He shot out one hand in an half hearted attempt to catch the horse before turning away in disgust.

A while later, MeiFeng arrived just behind the Company lines where doctors and their apprentices were tending to the wounded. She had barely dismounted when she heard a surprised shout from Vosho.

"MeiFeng?! What are you doing here? You should be back with the bagg..."

MeiFeng cut Vosho off in mid speech," I got enough of waiting so i decided to come here where I can get maybe some small part in helping out."

"As well as being able to keep yourself updated on the battle, especially Mario?" Vosho said in a slightly bitter tone," Still it isn't a safe place, perhaps you should return.."

"Please Vosho..." Meifeng said in her most ladylike pleading voice, batting her eyelids, giving that devastating effect she knew it had on most men.

"Ah! Here you are. You are coming back with me to the baggage trains now!" WeiBao said in a furious tone as he approached his sister.

MeiFeng shook her head. WeiBao's face turned even redder and he was about to say something but MeiFeng beat him to it," Vosho agreed to let me stay. He say he need the help here anyway!"

"What?" WeiBao now turned his attention on the young apprentice," Is it true what my sister said?" MeiFeng eyes caught Vosho's, gave him a pleading look...

 

[von Streusser]

August 7th, 1565 - The Battle of Corradino Heights

“ARPAD! Gather the men!”

"Aye sir!" barked the one-eyed Magyar to Renault.

The Ranger ran off to collect the men and have them form a rough semi-circle around the Sergeant. “Alright boys, this time they’ll be coming back with a vengeance and most likely will have some of their infantry types coming this way. Luckily we have the advantage of the slope so we don’t need to worry about cavalry. So what I want you boys to do is form up in skirmish formation in front of the cannons about halfway down the slope. Our job isn’t to stop the Turks, it’s to delay them. I want you boys to get out there and try to make the terrain as inhospitable as possible.”

These orders received a mixed reaction from the Rangers...some quietly nodded assent, a few others barked out cheers and growls. But all of them gathered themselves and began moving down the slope.

Arpad slid down the steep incline and came to rest behind a few larger chunks of rock. He heard a roar as a cannon fired above him, and felt the air contract over his head as the gun breathed flame and the ball lashed out towards its prey. "Aim true, you idiots..." he muttered under his breath. Looking to his left, he saw others moving into position, Saito and Andrew. He heard gravel sliding nearby, and looked to his side in time to see Andre slide in next to him and crouch behind the same rocks, scanning the nearby area to see if there was a better spot.

"I once heard" Arpad said, nearly shouting over the roar of the cannons and the battle nearby "that killing an infidel is not murder, but rather the way to Heaven. Do you think each dead heathen might erase a previous...sin?" The Magyar primed his pistol, and aimed it downhill towards the gathering mass of Turks moving in their direction, sighting on them. "Perhaps I will join my girls in the Kingdom of God yet."

 

[Amric]

August 7th, 1565 - The Battle of Corradino Heights

"I once heard" Arpad said, nearly shouting over the roar of the cannons and the battle nearby "that killing an infidel is not murder, but rather the way to Heaven. Do you think each dead heathen might erase a previous...sin?" The Magyar primed his pistol, and aimed it downhill towards the gathering mass of Turks moving in their direction, sighting on them. "Perhaps I will join my girls in the Kingdom of God yet."

Andre ducked a bit lower as the cannon roared once more. His height made him a tad nervous about losing his head to a low shot ball erupting from the de Bloomfield's Revenge behind him.

"I certainly believe so," Andre agreed with the Magyar," Although your vengeance should certainly get you there with your girls. Here comes the infidel now."

"I think we shall send them to hell where they belong," Arpad smiled thinly.

"Absolutely," Andre nodded once more.

"Ready to get your blades wet?" Arpad inquired.

"Indeed I am," Andre grinned.

Infidels were only a few feet away when Arpad threw a couple of knives into the mass approaching. Andre whipped out his blades and began slicing into the Turks who were attempting to break through the thin line of Rangers. The cannon continued to bang away above the struggling mass of men, tearing great furrows into the mass of Turks behind the rangers.

Andre ducked a Turk blade and kicked another in the knee causing the man to reel back into his fellows. Arpad kept another from stabbing him while Andrew managed to keep another from spitting the Magyar in turn. The three men backed away slowly, keeping within the rocks and making the Turk pay in rivers of blood for each step forward they managed to acquire.

Andre started bending lower to the ground as they got closer to the cannon. He had no intention of watching the Turk fly by him as his head rocketed by the infidel on it's way to the rear of the Turkish lines.

 

[Valdemar]

Diego smiled grimly as the second wave attacked. He could do naught to change the way things went for now, and could only wait while his men did their duty and kept their fire up.

There was however one trick up his sleeve. As the Turk approached and split of part of their force for the hard climb towards the cannon they involuntarily pulled the centre of heir attack towards the left, towards the cannons.

Diego smiled as the watched the Turks unfold on the low slope, this left him with two options. He yelled for a runner.

“I want tow orders taken to the far flanks.”

The boy nodded.

“The far left is to angle so they can cover the Turk approaching the cannon, if need be split of a full formation, five by five, leaving five by four with the pikes.”

The boy nodded,

“Five by five to the cannons if need be.”

Diego smiled,

“Good work, but they should be amble to pound the Turk from where they are now.”

He thought for a moment,

“Now, the second order. To the far right. With the Turks moving towards our centre they will be out of reach for a good while longer than they were before. Tell Rodriquez to take his entire formation thirty paces out for the pikes, and angle it so he can pepper the Turkish flank as they approach, I trust his judgement on when to pull back.”

*****

Yussuf stared at the woman, he was more than certain Vosho had no idea that he wanted her help, with a sardonically grin he turned to the your girl,

“Help? I could need help here, this man’s intestines are coming out, I need you to shove them back while I try and close the gash.”

 

[LordLeto]

“Help? I could need help here, this man’s intestines are coming out, I need you to shove them back while I try and close the gash.”

MeiFeng's face soured and she stepped back and seemed to wish to fly from the sight. "Wha.....I don't want...I mean..I..I."

"MeiFeng, if you insist" MeiFeng grasped the horses reins tighter and turned away to free herself of the lunch she had eaten, Vosho trailed off in his little speech watching this, "on being here go help Saip......." He turned to WeiBao, also watching her wretch. "WeiBao since you're here help with this man."

WeiBao nodded and attended to the mans guts with a slight admonishing from the arab when he hesitated to touched them. MeiFeng had missed Vosho’s words.

"MeiFeng."

"Wha.." She was wiping something from the corner of her mouth. "What?"

"Go help Saip down there. Do not leave him."

"Ok." Again starring at the man, mouth agape, as his stomach was being joined together again.

"GO!" Finally she scurried off.

He joined the Arab and WeiBao in the end stages of sewing the man together again.

"I've done all I can for him."

"Ok, we'll take him further back in the lines to be cared for." WeiBao was starring at his bloodied hands. "WeiBao take those horses back from where you and MeiFeng got them and bring a few of the women up to help." He nodded absently. Vosho looked at the arab again. "You get his arms. Ok?"

 

[redwolf]

August 7th, 1565- Free Company Right Flank

As the sergeants continued to discuss their options, Cai turned his attention back to the battlefield.

"Looks like they are making a push towards the canons this time." Cai glanced to his left to see that Glory has joined him.

"Think Renault and Gunshy can hold?" Cai asked Glory.

"Won't be easy. The Heights will be hard for them Turks to take but with so few men up there, it won't be so easy to hold."

Cai nodded. He had came to the same conclusion. "If we can only make the Turks divert some men to our flank, it might give Renault and Gunshy a better chance." Cai said aloud.

"With the Sipahis anchoring their left flank, nothing much we can do to their flank too. It's not as though they are going to line up for my reiters to have a free shot at them." Glory replied.

It's not as though they are going to line up for my reiters to have a free shot at them. The words echoed in Cai's mind. Suddenly he snapped his fingers," I have an idea. Ogedai, Horn, Edwards, gather the Light Cavalry! Prepare to ride!"

"Whoa, hold your horses, old man. You want to tell me what you got planned?" Glory demanded.

Cai grinned," As you suggested, we are going to give you a free shot at the Turks."

Glory folded his arms," And how are you going to do that?"

"Have you read the old Annals of the old battles we fought? How did our cavalry hold against superior numbers at Cremona?" Cai asked.

Glory frowned for a moment before slowly allowing a grin to appear on his face," It might just work!"

"It will work. Just make sure you don't shoot us instead when we bring them to you." Both men chuckled before Cai moved off to brief his men.

His plan was simple. The Free Company horse archers had always had a slightly greater range than that of the Turks. Cai intend to goad the Turks into charging them. The Light Cavalry will then retreat, bringing the Turks with them into the reiters shooting range.

"Death rides with Us!" Cai shouted. The Light Cavalry roared out their war cries and they rode towards the Turks Cavalry.

*****************************************
Turks Left Flank

"My Lord, the infidel Cavalry attacks." Malek, Selim's second in command reported.

Selim nodded," We have the advantage of numbers. If they wish to commit suicide, let them but I do not think they are that stupid to charge us."

As Selim predicted, the infidel horses stopped at range and fired their arrows. However unlike the infantry, the Sipahi are armed with bows too. For a while, both sides traded arrows with one another.

"Report." Selim ordered.

"Not good, my Lord. The infidels bows have a greater ranger than ours and as a result, we are taking much more losses than they are." Malek replied.

Selim nodded," Very well, since they want to play, we shall play with them. Malek, sound the charge. We shall take care of the rabble and then turn the infidel's flanks. Once we turn their flank, the battle is won. And we shall then become the heroes for being the men to finally defeat the Free Company."

Malek looked a bit doubtful," Are you sure it's wise?"

"Then what do you think we should do? Let them shoot at us with impunity? I think not. And anyway what can they do? At most they can fall back to their lines after which they must stand or we will turn their flank. They are doomed, I tell you. Now sound the charge!"

********************************************

The horns sounded and the Turks cavalry started to advance.

Cai grinned, just as he suspected the Turks will.

The Light Cavalry fired a couple more volleys into the Turks ranks. Finally when the Turks were starting to get uncomfortably near, Cai ordered the Light Cavalry to about turn and fall back to their lines.

As the Light cavalry retreated, Cai took great care to make sure he kept his men between the Turks and the reiters.

As the horses ate up the distance, Cai gauged the distance. Once the Turks entered the effective range of the reiters, Cai shouted," NOW!

With a discipline and precision only the Free Company is capable of, the Light Cavalry split off in 2 directions, giving the reiters a clear shot at the Turks...

 

[Lord Durham]

August 7th, 1565 - Free Company – Command Post

The joys of having the high ground, Captain pondered. He had an excellent view of the developing battle, while his opponent could do nothing but flail helplessly. He saw the cavalry action develop on his right wing, beyond the base of the heights.

“Belay that order,” Captain said to the young messenger. The boy stopped and looked up, but David watched intently as Lieutenant Cai’s cavalry led the Sipahis straight into the iron jaws of the Reiters. He nodded. The medium cavalry was his ace-in-the-hole, an all-purpose formation combining fire power with shock. The Turkish cavalry, the elite Sipahis, would provide little opposition to the heavily armoured mercenaries in a stand-up melee, especially with Cai’s light cavalry swinging around behind.

The chanting of the enemy grew louder. This wave was different, more disciplined. Captain stroked his chin. It was an old Turkish trick. Throw in the weakest first, then follow with veterans. Being outnumbered, the Company would eventually tire, and the Turkish commander would finish with the elite Janissaries.

That is, if they managed to survive this wave.

He watched as Sergeant Diego gathered the musketeers and reorganised them. The man had proven his worth already, so he wasn’t ready to countermand the move. Sensing the calibre of the fresh wave of Turkish troops, the infantry Lieutenants edged the men closer together, forming a solid wall of pike.

Behind the lines, the wounded were being cared for and taken away. He briefly saw the Chin girl helping out. His gaze fell on Amina. Too proud to dirty your hands?

Someone tugged at his bootstrap. He turned quickly, relaxed when he recognised young William’s soot-stained face.

“Captain, sir. Gunshy needs reinforcements.”

At least he’s to the point. Captain stood in his stirrups, noticed the second wave of Turks dividing into two barely connected wings. The wing facing the artillery was slowly pulling ahead of the men tasked with charging the pikes. He looked at the boy. “The runt’s right. What did he do, stand on a cannon? Don't answer that.” He turned to Red Hand. “Saul, care to draw blood?” He noted Amina’s eyes light up.

Saul gingerly raised his sea-worthy body in the stirrups, using one hand to grasp the pommel. He exhaled nervously. “Flank attack?”

Captain nodded. “Gutsy on their part, but it could work. I see Renault’s moving his men ahead into skirmish formation. I’d like you to reinforce him. He’ll withdraw slowly, inflicting as much damage as possible. Chances are there’ll be a fight at the cannons. I hope you’re up for it.”

Saul smiled. “My men are always up for it.” He looked to Amina. “After you, my dear.” They rode off, Red Hand bawling orders to the waiting corsairs.

Captain settled back, his hand touching his sword. He said to Stiles, “This will be a near thing, boy.”

Stiles swallowed; his hand slippery on the wooden shaft of the Company banner. “Will this decide the battle, sir?”

Captain laughed. “I wish it would. If we win this, we’ll have a short respite.” He pointed to a spot near Birgu, where a clump of men gathered under colourful banners. “After this, we’ll face the Janissaries.”

 

[Valdemar]

The Musketes, as the second wave attacks

Diego had rearranged the musketeers before the second wave arrived, now as the Turk moved uphill his formations on their own accord stepped in front of the pikes to attack the Turks as they approached.

Behind them the pikes adjusted to the new threat by moving closer together, which fitted nicely with the reduced formations Diego had ordered in the gaps between the pikes. As the first volley from the muskets went down range he idly wondered if he should pull the muskets completely to allow the pike formations to join completely into one front.

The two minor formations stationed in the joints of the pike formations smoothly merged into one as they reached each other in front of the pikes and moved ahead by thirty paces to obliterate the front ranks of the Turk.

The Musketeers on the far left, between the pikes and the cannons, moved out and further to the left, for the moment ignoring the approaching Turks in the centre attacking the pikes and angled their own front towards the Turk climbing towards the cannons.

As the Turkish front met the skirmisher force of the rangers the following sections bundled up slightly. Diego had moved along the front to this formation and quickly ordered the men to hold their fire.

“Hold the fire, first rank one step to the right, second rank ready in the gap to fire with the first rank, third and fourth ready to do same, fifth rank hold to cover the reloads.”

The sergeant held up his Halberd, watching the skirmish unfold.

The rangers fell back orderly and once they all seemed to have moved past the muskets he felt the Turk was close enough. Not wanting the Turk to turn on him, or to be caught out in the open by the Turks heading for the pikes, he let the halberd drop.

The first two ranks fired in unison, their shots slamming into the bundled up Turkish flank like a scythe through a grain field. As soon as the muskets had fired they stepped to the back to reload and ranks three and four stepped up, rank three sidestepping as they raised their guns, once again letting a deadly concentrated fire eat into the massed enemy.

Diego watched the effect of the withering fire, then scanned the field, deciding on retreat.

“Rank five to the front at ready, all about face, retreated double pace, we withdraw unto the pikes.”

The Muskets having dealt their blow retreated orderly towards the pikes with the ready fifth rank always turned towards the enemy.

 

[von Streusser]

August 7th, 1565 - The Battle of Corradino Heights

The slope from the fields below to the position the cannons occupied above was less an incline than a wall, and Arpad found himself regularly backing into uneven ledges that he nearly had to scale. The Turks he and Andre were currently holding off were the skirmishers, the advance guard of the second wave. They had been tasked to seek out and kill the Rangers, clearing the route to the cannons for the main advance...this would not be an easy job, however, as the forward Turks were now discovering. Andre and Arpad fought as a single unit, focusing first on deflecting attacks aimed at each other and then striking when their foes left an opening.

Turk after Turk rushed them, and each fell in turn. Arpad was catching an enemy scimitar between his blades when his back heel hit the rock face. He pushed the scimitar back, forcing the Turk to stumble. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Andre closing in to finish the man off, and so the Magyar turned to regard his surroundings. They had fought their way back to a sheer block of the cliff face, a piece of rock rising six feet straight up with no easy way to climb. Still, the Turks were pressing in, and the other Rangers were still falling back...they had to go.

"Come on, I'll boost you up" Arpad said, sheathing his knives and knitting his fingers together. Andre took one last look at the encroaching heathens, then nodded and stepped onto the Hungarian's hands. Arpad gave Andre a boost up, and the tall man easily gained a purchase with his long reach, then turned to give the Magyar a hand up. Arpad grabbed Andre's hand, and was most of the way up the cliff face when he noticed the musketeers not far away. Andre, laying on his stomach to help up his fellow Ranger, turned his head to follow Arpad's gaze, and both men's jaws dropped...at the same moment as the commander's halberd.

"DROP ME!" screamed the Magyar, letting go. Andre did so, and tucked his face against the ground. Arpad dropped to the earth and pressed himself in as musketfire tore through the ranks of the nearby Turks. "WATCH YOUR FIRE YOU IDIOTS!" he found himself screaming into the rocks.

"Arpad!" The Magyar heard Andre yell, and whirled around in time to see a Turk's leering face closing in on his. The movements were smooth, instinctual, and suddenly the Turk's leer turned into a look of shock and terror as the Ranger's pistol barrel jammed up into the soft flesh of his throat. Arpad felt the explosion through every part of his being, and the top half of the Turk's head flew away in a fine mist. "Come on, we need to go!" he heard Andre yelling again, and heard the clash of steel behind him...had the Turks already gotten behind? A quick glance confirmed this, and lit a fire underneath the Hungarian...but it also ruled out Andre's helping him up.

An approaching Turk provided a good enough solution. Waiting until he was close enough, Arpad jumped into the air, planted both feet on the stunned man's chest, and launched himself backwards through the air. The landing was not majestic; he wound up sprawled on his back. But he had made it over the obstacle, and continued to fall back...now ducking Turkish blades from the front, cannonballs from behind, and their own musketfire from the side. So intent was he on the threats closing in on him that he completely failed to notice the blood gradually staining his left sleeve, or the fact that only one of his arms wasn't fully responding as it should...

 

[unmerged(6528)]

August 7, 1565 – The Turks

"Allah!" Mustafa roared. "Is it not enough that I am plagued by that cursed admiral, he who would deny the host of the faithful victory? Must I be plauged by incompetence among the ranks of my officers?" The elderly generals frame stood taut as he cursed, taut like rope stretched to the point where fibers begin to fray out from it.

"Amir. The Jannissary commander frowned. "The ground is treacherous, and the infidel scum hold the high ground. What's more, we can offer our troops no arillery support."

"Wretched fools." The general railed, frayed indeed. "They will suffer, all of them."

Above the commanders on the slope, the Azeb infantry continued to hammer against the pikes on one flank and on the other fought it's way up nearly impassable terrain against skirmishers and artillery fire. Farther out on the left flank, the Sipahi cavalry fought a roiling battle of gunfire, arrows, lances, and blades, but despite their superior numbers they could make no progress.

"General, if we could muscle a few of the bombards into place, even if we hit nothing, it would hearten the men..." Kemal, the Jannissary commander offered, his voice deferent."

Mustafa paused, slowly his rage was giving way to icy clarity. He had failed once, he would not do so again. "Very well commander, do so."

"As you command Amir."

"Oh, and commander, when the Azebs are done throwing themselves at the enemies spears, be sure your men are ready."

Kemal said nothing, but the hammer of his fist against his breastplate and his bowed head were all the answer his commander had to witness.

"General." Another voice. Adem, his aid. "Admiral Piali has sent us reinforcements." A pause. "Corsair scum."

"Has he now..." Mustafa scowled, then sneared. We will use them then, as they deserve.

"General?"

"When the Jannissary form up, put the corsairs in front of them to shield them with a wall of worthless flesh." Mustafa grinned harshly, white teeth flashing against leathery tanned skin. Piali you wretch, you too will suffer. On the slope, he watched as cannon fire tore another trench into his advancing men.

"As you command General." Adem saluted, and hurried off to chivvy the corsairs into place.

"Rider." Mustafa squinted, wincing as his cavalry was outmaneuvered again. "Relay this request to Commander Selim of the Sipahi, he outnumbers the enemy by three to one, he can either defeat them now or die trying." The commander of the Turkish army on Malta ruminated another moment, then added another point. "And another message to Malek, his second. If Selim fails to carry out his order, Malek is to kill him and succeed where he failed."

"It will be done Amir." The rider spurred his mount into a canter as he hurried off.

"Excellent." Mustafa whispered. "Soon..."

 

[redwolf]

August 7, 1565- Turks left flank

The infidel cavalry retreated before the Sipahi. Selim roared his men on as they sped towards the Free Company lines. Selim allowed a slight smile to come to his face. Soon, the infidels must make a stand and he and his Sipahi will take great pleasure in crushing them.

In front of him, the Light Cavalry suddenly split off and headed off in 2 directions to expose another body of infidel horsemen.

Selim's eyes widened when he realised the trap he had been brought into. He started to give orders but before he could, the reiters fired.

Selim tumbled out of his saddle dead as he took a shot in the head. The Siphai charge floundered as their front rank was decimated and at the death of their commander.

Malek tried to take charge only to get an arrow in his throat as the Light Cavalry came riding in firing volleys of arrows at the sipahis flanks. Reloaded, the reiters fired again. More Turks tumbled from their saddles.

The Turks were now in total disarray as sub commanders issued contradicting orders to their men. All the time, reiters and Light Cavalry continued to pound them with arrows and gunfire. Finally a minor commander by the name of Yazid managed to gain a semblance of command and he quickly ordered the Siphais to retreat.

The Light Cavalry harried the Sipahi retreat as far as they could before falling back to their lines.

As the battered Turks made it safely made to the lines, Yazid made a quick analysis of the situation. They had lost quite a bit of men in a futile charge and had hardly caused any damage to the infidels.

Not daring to make any decision, Yazid quickly send an aide to to the Amir for further instructions while he tried to bring some semblance of orders back to the humiliated Sipahis.

*************************************
As the reiters and Light Cavalry reformed, the rest of the battle was in full swing as Company pikemen fought furiously to hold the line against the Turks onslaught.

"With the Sipahi in disarray, we can swing around and harry the Turks flanks again." Glory commented.

Cai considered the situation. The infantry battle was finely balanced on a knife's edge and hitting the flanks of the Turks might just turn the battle in the favour of the Free Company.

"The Light Cavalry will do it. Glory, you and your reiters stay here and cover us in case the Sipahis decides to come at us again." Cai said.

Glory started to protest but Cai cut him off," Look, I need you to keep your horses fresh cause I believe there will be a third wave coming and Captain will need your men later I am sure so rest now so that you can play your part later."

Though he wasn't very pleased, Glory nodded in acceptance and turned back to give his men the orders to stand down.

Cai returned to his men and ordered his men to move off. The Light Cavalry swung out on the Turks left firing volleys of arrows into the Turks ranks.

"Death rides with us!" Cai shouted.

"Death rides with Us!" came the resounding cry of the Light Cavalry as they continued their strikes on the Turks flanks....