Papacy Lite: - Continuing Chronicles of The Free Company

[Lord Durham]

The Fifth Chronicle of the Free Company


The Second Infidel Wars: 1579 - 1588: Part Two




ARGAEL:

Young Private Argael: Captain Sir, I know I'm new here and all, but aren't we capable of doing better then this foolish contacts? Are we a Company of Men or do we considere ourselves not brave enough? Maybe I'm young Sir, being just a private but other men here think as I do! I'm ready to give my life for God and Country, but I feel my self a guerrilla tactic peon and not a man at arms under the Pope's hand.

His young face, his willing eyes, his sigh after saying all this, his under excitement and above all his unrespectfull way of making clear that he was uncomfortable, earned him a punch in his face, 100 pushups, the cleaning of the crapper, the cleaning of the officers armors and the thumb breaking work cook's first and only assistant.

Some started to call him the 'the smelly choirboy'.


FORSTER:

Lt Forster had given Warspite 300 of the calvary and sent him south to cut off any reinforcements. He left 100 with the Captain to use in the main attack, and he kept 400 with him. He was watching the attack unfold from atop a hill overlooking the small village from the southwest. His force was out of sight. He was surprised to see crude earthworks being thrown up. He couldn't be sure, but from his vantage point, it looked as if they might be facing Janissaries.

Oh lord, he thought, this may get messy. He called up Sgt Storey and the other Sgts. Just then he heard cannon fire from the village. This was looking bad. He was trying to locate the cannon. There was so much fire, smoke and dust, it was difficult. Finally, after another round he spotted the smoke puffs. Sgt Storey, do you see that smoke down by the barn on the right? That is where the cannon fire is coming from. I want you to take your men and work your way over to their right rear flank. Once you are in position,you are to attack the guns, try to cut down any guards, but see if we can capture any of the gunners. Don't take any risks, though, if you can't, you can't. I would rather you kill them all, so none get back to the Turk.

Once you have begun your attack, I will lead the remaining men in an attack from here. It looks like we have one of the Pasha's best units here. The distraction should help our foot. Good luck,and God bless.

Lt Forster rode down the hill to talk to his remaining Sgts and men. He told his sergeants to get the men into attack formation, but keep them just behind the crest of the hills. He wanted to keep his presence as much of a surprise as possible. Once they were in formation, he rode among the men, greeting many by name, giving encouragement, reminding them of the legacy they had to live up to.
Having satisfied himself that they were as ready as they would ever be, he rode back to the top of the hill, and watched and waited. Only time would tell now.


RICTUS:

meanwhile, it was the job of the poor bloody footsloggers to advance into the teeth of that fire.
Eighty men comprised the first wave, led by Rictus and De Lyon, a few arquebus shoots were traded from both sides, but no man was hit, most were embedded in the new earthworks or the grassless fields.
Luckily the cannon were firing elsewhere, away from the main of the Company army, where they signalling someone? A well-placed messenger several miles away could see that and would be able to carry word of the attack.

They were close now, both of the small squares were converging on a blocked gateway, behind which bristled Turkish scimitars.
THe new earthworks were quite tall and were thought out, deep too, maybe four foot high by three foot deep and sloped too, so cannon balls would bounce off.
Elsewhere, more sergeants were leading troops into position against other entrances to the village. Rictus shot a look towards where he knew Forster was assembling a larger cavalry force to break through. What good was that against such large earthworks? SOmeone had to breeak those dwon before any horse would enter, and it looked like the job was the infantries again.


LIONHEART:

As De Lyon approached the small village he was rapidly changing his view on events. Either Storey's information had been incorrect or the Sultan's men had been working extremely well. The village was now protected by a four foot barricade over a three foot ditch.

He had also seen the Turkish foe and these were no ordinary foot soldiers but the famed Janissaries, the cream of the Sultan's armies. These were men who had, for the past 80 years, spread fear into the hearts of all Christendom as battles had turned on their attacks. They had even now acquired a few Khoumbaradji units, or bombardiers, known as such for their use of the Khoumbara, an iron ball filled with gunpowder and schrapnel, either thrown or fire from the cannon.

And now he realised that a large part of the advancing force had fallen away. Whereas before, he was leading part of a force against a foe outnumbered over 4 to 1, here he found himself as part of an assault outnumbers 4 to 1 by the enemy against a well fortified, highly trained foe.

Indeed this was going to be a lot more tricky than he had first thought.


SGT.BLOOMFIELD:

Sgt Bloomfield wiped the sweat from his brow that was trickling into his eyes. He glanced back at his men and the corporals moving along the ranks.

"Close up, close up!" he barked, "Steady!"

Again he looked at the left side of the earthwall that had been thrown up by the infidel dogs. Something was not quite right. The rampart seemed lower, and the deficiency made up with bushes that appeared to be wilting. This could only mean there was another battery there on the left and that the enemy was holding fire until the Company was well advanced: Then the cannon would rake diagonally across the ranks, creating bloody bloody havoc.

"Boy! Run to Lt. De la Croix: Compliments and I do not like the look of the rampart on the left. Respectfully submit that it might be a hidden battery. Await instructions. Quick, now."

Bloomfield waved over his corporals who had been straining to overhear his message to the Lieutenant.

"Listen, do you see the funny depression in the earthwall there? Yes, that right. I think its a hidden battery. We will charge the position and take the battery. Let's just hope there is not to much infantry cover. In two minutes we will veer left and then advance at the double. No arquebusiers, just pikes and swords. It will be warm work for a while, but if we are quick, there will be only one round to bear. Got that? Pass the word down the files, I want everything quick as lightning now!"

"But Sergeant, you said that you were awaiting instructions from Lt De la Croix!"

"Oh, bugger that. Either his instructions are to take the battery or they're rubbish. No need to wait for them. Now move!"


LORD DURHAM:

"Damnation!" Captain shouted. This was not good. Not good at all. Sergeant's De Lyon and Rictus were in the thick of it. There had to be several companies worth of Turkish troops, Janissaries by the look of their dress, and a handful of cannon. Why in God's name was this village so important?

"Thebarge! Get Misha to commit his men to the eastern approach. We have to force the Turk to thin his ranks. Quick time! Now!"

Clerk said, "Sergeant Bloomfield has his men moving at the double Captain. Perhaps he's seen something?"

Captain scanned the village and cursed again. He saw what Bloomfield was aiming for. He whispered a prayer to the Sergeant.

The thought nagged again. What was it about this place?

Suddenly it dawned on him. Burevic was probably the last defensible position before Trieste. What better way to provide a delaying action than throw several hundred Turkish fanatics in harm's way. Trieste would surely have time to prepare her defenses now, unless Warspite and his men had managed to catch the messengers.

Captain had a sickening feeling this was going to be a fight to the death. All he could do now was trust in his men.


RICTUS:

Captain was right. Rictus and De Lyon were in the thick of it. Moments before reaching the wall, two cannon and a score of arqebuses released hell onto them, killing perhaps a dozen men in all. Not bad, but when you consider they had eighty troops between them to seize a sixty metre long wall, they needed every man possible.

Then, when they had prevailed and mounted the 'works, they had been met by even more death as over a hundred Jannisaries faced them. Now they fought tooth and nail against an overwhelming foe, inching forward, each step costing dearly to both sides.

To his left, De Lyon was slicing back and forth with a captured sword, beside him a man unloaded his argebus into a screaming Turkish soldier.
Rictus was faring slightly worse though, his patch of 'works had been better made and he had had to stumble down through a deeper ditch before facing his foes. He had himself long ago abandoned his own beloved arqebus and was now slashing frantically with his sabre. He ran one man through and used the body as an obstacle his opponants had to get round.
The soldier to his left was brutally beheaded, Rictus knew the man, Yebba Arac, he had had a woman waiting back in Italy and possibly a son too. Sometimes, war wasn't worth it.

Their desperate assault had began to succeed, even partially, though the Turks were now fighting tooth and nail to dislodge the Company Soldiers, both of the cannon had been captured and, as soon as competant engineers arrived, were to be used on their enemy.


MISHA:

"They're janissaries alright," Sergeant Misha stated.

"Damn. I was hoping for something a little easier this time out," Corporal Kozsey replied. "It's looking a litle hot out there. How long before the Captain commits us?" the large Pole asked his slim companion.

"Soon. Captain likes to hold his reserves if possible, but I don't think he is going to have the chance this time. That means it's our turn to dance. Let's get ready."

While Kozsey finished dressing the lines, a runner from HQ reached Misha & explained the Captain's orders. The big corporal noticed the old sergeant shake his head slowly, then nod in assent. That couldn't be good news, the huge Pole thought.

Kozsey left the men in formation & strode over to talk to Misha.

"So what's the deal, Sarge?"

"The Captain is concerned that the Company is going to get flanked. We are to advance out to the eastern approaches & attempt to flank the enemy before he can do the same to us. Failing that, we are expected to hold our ground, & at least force the enemy to extend his lines, thus keeping him from concentrating against the rest of the Company."

"What's to keep them from concentrating against us?" Kozsey asked coolly.

"Nothing. The Captain will send us what reinforcements he can, but the Company is stretched thin already. We can't expect much help. But if we fail in our mission, it is likely that the entire Free Company will be trapped."

"Oh, so it's just another walk in the park. Well, I never wanted to live forever anyway." Kozsey strode back to the formation & got the men ready for the move.

Misha said a silent prayer, & then moved into his accumstomed position in the formation & began giving orders. Time for the "Foot Cavalry" to earn its pay.


SGT.BLOOMFIELD:

"Steady!" Bloomfield shouted again. This was the crucial moment: He could see that the bushes and branches were being hastily pulled to the side beyond earthwall and he saw three cannons on heavy limbers. Gun crews were fumbling with the coigns and he saw the thin whisps of smoke from the smoldering slow-match. He glanced at his men. The were advancing well and he could not see any hesitation yet. But the greater danger was that they would start rushing, break into a charge too soon and destroy the effect of his column hitting the enemy as one solid wave.

"Hold ranks! Steady!" Here it comes: There was that sickening pause after the gunners touched the match to the guns' touch-holes and then the cannon roared out. Instantly their world became a whirlwind of smoke and blood, several men were cut down, but the Turks had loaded roundshot, not cannister. Since they were advancing in line, the damage might have been worse, he thought.

His corporals did their work, urging the men on and pushing the hurrying bodies into place. "Close up, close up, you buggers!"

Just twenty more paces to the embankment. The gunners were beginning to drop swabs and rammers and to run. But behind the guns, there waited a line of Janissary, led by an officer on horseback.

"Steady, lads: Let's get the Infidel dogs!" Bloomfield was huffing as he scrambled up the low earthwall. He saw the officer on the horse lower his sword and heard the arquebusiers roar. "Charge!" yelled Bloomfield and ran forward through the smoke, past the first gun.


LIONHEART:

My god this was bloody mayhem. The first attack wave had suffered terribly from the barrage of Turkish fire before they had even reached the earthworks. Fire had been returned but with the greater cover offered by the wall, the Turkish defenders were hardly likely to suffer as much as the Company men in the open. They had been no option but to charge the defences and take it by storm. De Lyon had hoped that other groups on either side would react in the same way but they had continued the slower march and had fallen a little behind

The first men reached the ramparts and were greated once more with a hail of fire. Two of them fell instantly, one mortally wounded as the shot ripped through the side of his face and neck. De Lyon was also up on the defensive works and another shot instantly struck him on the shoulder. Just as well I received the money for this new armour or else I?d have joined the others lying in the ditch. He still felt the pain but the damage was not so bad as to stop him returning the complement by bringing his blade down heavily on the shield of the guard in front of his

But De Lyon?s men took no pleasure from the view atop of the earthworks. With a loud cry, the defending Janissaries jumped forward and a melee was resumed. A commotion to his left revealed that Rictus? boys were suffering badly too. The deep ranks of the Janissaries were defending strongly against the thinner ones of the company, although some of the defenders had been pulled towards the centre allowing the late arrivals on either side a brief respoite.

The battle raged on as blows were exchanged. The company lines were thinning gradually. De Lyon stepped back from the mound to take stock of the situation. "Ready those arques" he shouted to the company behind and then a few seconds later. "Step back!" he shouted to his men. A risky move since those still fighting could not understand why the ground gained should be returned so easily.

The Turks saw their chance and a great shout went up. Several of them jumped out onto the earthenworks after the withdrawing men with their curved blades aloft but the sudden discharge from the Company arquebuses felled two of these and they were pulled back behind the lines. The other rash souls dropped back behind the defenses.

"Once more to the breach!" yelled De Lyon and his men launched themselves again at the enemy. Down to almost half my men thought De Lyon. Unless someone can draw these damned Turks away, I?m going to have to pull them back


FORSTER:

Lt Forster surveyed the carnage. God this was not good. Sgt Storey had started his charge, and it looks like the Turks are not yet aware of him. He gave the signal, move out at trot. His men crested the hill and began to move toward the village. Lt Forster smiled, at least we have one thing going for us, it does not look like the Turk fortified his rear. They must have assumed we would not be able to get around behind them so soon. He looked over at young Fournier, who was at his side. Carry the standard high, let the Janissaries know who is coming to dinner.

They had now crossed 2/3 of the way, and it looks as if they had been spotted. Of course, Storey was already up to his neck. The infantry were taking horrendous casualties. He gave the signal for fast trot.
Then, finnally the charge. I'm getting too old for this he thought.


SGT.BLOOMFIELD:

Sgt. Bloomfield wiped his sword. He had lost several men, but the line of Janissary had crumpled and broken almost right away. They were well behind the earthworks and he could see the bloody mayhem on the right of his position. It didn't look good for Rictus and De Lyon.

"Corporal, are the men formed?"

"Yes, Sir: line, two ranks."

"Good. Take nine men and see if you can load those guns and train them around on that barn over there. Watch what you are doing though!"

Bloomfield turned to his men. "Lads! We will roll up their line from the side. They won't see us coming. Stay close together, don't slow down. No need to kill every enemy, but to keep moving. And I want you lads screaming like Kingdom come. Got that? Advance! At the double!"

Just then he heard an orderly arquebusier salvo from De Lyon's position. Looked like the lad was holding up. But Bloomfield and his men would be only just in time.


LORD DURHAM:

There was always a point in a battle when it appeared the momentum was shifting. As Captain watched Sergeant Bloomfield gain a foothold in the village along with Sergeant Misha's flanking movement and Lieutenant Forster's charge he knew this was it.

Now if only De Lyon and Rictus could hold on.


RICTUS:

Rictus saw De Lyon pull back briefly before unloading a well-order barrage into their enemies, this caused a ripple of panic in the Janissaries, and Rictus saw the chance to press his own attack.
He shoulder-barged one distracted man, knocking him out the way and used the pommel of his blade to knock out another, events were moving fast, he felt like he'd been fighting for hours. His sword arm was tired and his other was drenched in blood, though he knew not who it belonged to.

He raised his sword again and slashed across the face, but not before the stock of an arqebus was brought unwelcomed into his gut, winding him and making him dizzy, images blurred or multiplied. But.

But.

He was free now. No more enemies. It took a moment to realise he had broken through the Turk lines and all he faced now was the gruesome prospect of fighting his way back through and getting his men back.

Rictus took a moment to assess the situation, there was commotion coming from at least two other 'breaches', he could hear, despite the ruckus of the fighting, the sound of many horses galloping somewhere.

>>Pang! <<

He was brought back rudely by a bullet grazing his shoulder and lodging itself into a convinent hanging pan. Gingerly he tested the wound, it was bleeding, but not hurting. Several Janissaries were coming his way, more still were detaching themselves from DeLyons skirmish and attaching to his, he hoped De Lyon would act soon, or his minor breach might be wasted.
With that, he roared and swung at the exposed neck of his closest foe.

He'll go down fighting, at least.

 

[Lord Durham]

The Fifth Chronicle of the Free Company


The Second Infidel Wars: 1579 - 1588: Part Three



SGT.BLOOMFIELD:

Rictus tried to pull his blade free but it had caught in the dead Janissary's armor as he crumpled. He tucked again and finally the blade came free but Rictus had no time to bring the sword up for a parry as the next Turk came on, his curved scimitar blinking in the sun. Suddenly everything seemed to move in slow motion. As he watched the enemy's blade curve down, Rictus found that he had time to think back, back to his first sea voyage, and to Barkdreg's naked body being shaved by Warspite, back to Franka's body in the white wedding gown, the camel outfit and moment Storey had first acknowledged his skill. But suddenly the Turk's eyes went wide in surprise and everything sped up again: Pain shot through his throat and his mouth seemed to snap open, the Turk in front him crumpled. As Rictus fell back he saw the sweating grinning head of Bloomfield appear.

"It's alright, boy, you're fine. Hardly a scratch." Bloomfield was steadying Rictus on his feet. "We'll make a man out of you yet, boy, that is, when you're finished taking on a company of Jannissaries on your own."

Rictus felt his throat. He couldn't believe he was still alive. "But..." he stammered.

"It's alright, that strange nail-studded collar you wear under your uniform deflected the blow. Surgeon will patch you up later, but it's only a scratch! Come one, we are missing out on the fun!"

Rictus became aware of screaming Free Company men running past them, bloody pikes held low. He gripped his sword harder and followed Bloomfield who had turned right to where a knot of Turks was making a stand across the breach through which De Lyon's men had advanced. But while he could see de Lyon waving and urging new men forward, there were precious few Free Company men left inside the breach and the Jannissaries were pressing forward. Things looked sticky for de Lyon.


LIONHEART:

"Reel round to the left!" yelled de Lyon. "A breech!" he roared. His line of Turk were still holding fast and he was now down to a mere dozen men still fighting.

"GET INTO THAT BLOODY BREECH!" he screamed at the new recruits behind. "Here's your chance to show your true blood!"

The young crowd behind had been wathcing patiently, far too patiently, with their arquebuses, waiting for another chance to take a shot at the defenders. Now they saw their cue. Sergeant Bilbao ordered a charge as they set down their firearms, unsheathed the sowrds and were led into the breach that had once been the western outskirts of Burevic.

De Lyon continually urged his men on to hold the right side of the breech and keep the Turkish troops from reassembling. Must hold the line. Keep the breech open he kept saying to himself as another of his men collapsed staggered from exhaustion and fell to the ground under the weight of a Janissary blade.

"Bloody merde!", he thought. "I'm gonna have to put myself back in this line again. Where is everyone?"


MISHA:

The battle still raged out on the eastern approaches. Sergeant Misha's troops had failed in their bid to turn the Turk's flank when 2 columns of Janissaries had suddenly appeared in their front. Misha had swiftly given the order to deploy from column to line formation. The enemy infantry would have to fight their way through his men if they wanted to try to flank the Free Company.

To nobody's surprise, the enemy deployed into line also, setting up a classic infantry engagement. Confronted by superior numbers, Misha had no choice but to order his men to stretch out their lines to avoid envelopment. This gave the advantage to the enemy who now had a thinner line to break. The Turk's began to probe for weaknesses in the Company's lines. Kozsey & the other corporals shouted instructions to steady the men & shore up any momentary holes in the lines. Misha knew the men couldn't hold against this kind of pressure forever. But he also knew that withdrawal was not an option. Without his men to hold the line here, the enemy could roll up the entire Company in one flank attack. They had to stand, no matter the cost.

Misha continued to give orders in his distinctive clear high tenor voice. Misha's voice had been the subject of much paradeground mimicry in the past, but its high pitch had proved an asset on the battlefield, somehow cutting through the din of battle much more effectively than more traditional bass voices. Misha's men could always hear & understand his commands, & what they heard they had learned to obey without question. Which is why at that moment, the entire right half of the formation began to swing back away from the fight.

The old sergeant watched the men perform this most difficult evolution without a hitch. All that time on the paradeground had been well spent he thought to himself. Misha had seen a third column of Jannisaries moving up to roll up his right flank, & he had ordered the men of the right to pivot away from the attack, effectively refusing the flank to their adversaries. The manuever bought some time, as the enemy had to reform to try to take advantage of the new tactical situation, but Misha knew that the end of the game was near. There was no way his outnumbered men could fight off their adversaries & it was only a matter of time before the Jannisaries had his men completely surrounded. Damn! Where was the cavalry when you really needed it!

As the Turks reformed to press their advantage, Sergeant Misha saw Corporal Kozsey signal something. Following the indication, Misha looked over to the main engagement. It looked like Bloomfield & De Lyon's men had achieved some kind of breakthrough, capturing a battery of some sort. Quite likely the battle was won - too bad his enemies on this side of the field were unaware of that piece of news. But the revelation heartened Misha to give new orders. When Corporal Kozsey heard them, the huge Pole shook his head, as if to reject the command. But the old sergeant could not be ignored when he raised his voice a second time. Kozsey & the bulk of the men began to withdraw, leaving Misha & a select few to cover their retreat.

Corporal Kozsey pushed his men to force the gap to safety before the enemy could close it. He spared one last look at the remant that remained but couldn't see any of the men of the Free Company - the Janissaries had completely engulfed Misha & his men. The big Pole wanted to turn around & try to force his way back in, but he knew that would only result in military disaster. Misha had known that the only way to save even a portion of his men was for the rest to make the last full measure of devotion. Kozsey knew it was better to save the lives of the men he could, rather than throw their lives away in an hopeless effort to save those he couldn't. But it was a bitter pill to take nonetheless.

Kozsey marched his men to safety. As he looked out across the field of battle, he could see that the Captain's plan had been a success. The abortive flanking manuever had drawn the enemy's attention, drawing troops away from the center. While the Janissaries were trying to turn the flank battle into a flanking manuever of their own, Bloomfield & De Lyon had been able to concentrate & breach the enemy position. Sergeant Misha & the boys had delayed the enemy movement long enough for Bloomy & his men to win the day. "Well big whoopy shit," thought Kozsey. "I hope this town was worth the lives it cost. But somehow I damn well doubt it."


LIONHEART:

As De Lyon stepped onto the barricade again, he noted some uncertainty in the Turkish lines. Many had now started to drop back as cries came from behind the lines. He didn't even have an opposite number against which to exchange blows.

He looked up and saw the reason for the break in the enemy lines. Forster's cavalry had arrived from behind the lines and a large part of the company infantry, including Bloomfield and the remnants of Rictus' group held the ground to the left.

The Turkish forces laid down their arms and surrendered meekly. Company soldiers were now in the business of collecting their weapons and marshalling the few enemy who had not fought to the bitter end. Bodies lay everywhere and the stench of burnt flesh now replaced the smell of battle. And this was only against a small village. Another approach would be needed against the well fortified town of Trieste to the north.

Four yards in front of De Lyon, he noticed the fallen standard of the Turkish garrison. We slowly went forward and picked it up. This was what they had earned that day through sweat and steel. Their earnings today were more than the spoils of war from the richly decorated Janissaries. It was the honour of defeating the heathen. Would he have some tale to tell back in Palermo.

De Lyon espied Sgt. Bloomfield still rounding up the remnants of the Turks. He walked up to him and handed him the flag. "I think the Captain would be quite pleased to receive this. You take it. I'm too knackered to do it myself"


LORD DURHAM:

Captain pumped his fist. The battle was for all intents and purposes over. The men had performed admirably against one of the most feared infantries in the world.

All that was left now was to catch any stragglers and secure Burevic for occupation. Slowly Captain nudged his horse towards the village.

He wasn't looking forward to the butcher's bill.


RICTUS:

Rictus sank to the ground.

His nerves finally getting to him. He had fought well, he had helped break the Turkish lines, though by then it was obvious the Company was going to win.
He knew that he had also managed to break through because of the sacrifices made by De Lyon and his squad. Both of the sergeants had lost over thirty men each and no man who had fought in that breach was unhurt.
Bloomfield grinned broadly one more time before wandering off. His hands were shaking, his throat was dry, the sun hurt his eyes, his shoulder and neck hurt. He had to think twice before he finally agreed that he was alive.
Adrenaline, or a demonic fury had sustained him, and he was thankful, though the experience was not pleasant, and he hadn't enjoyed watching his comrades massacred, he wanted to fight again.

He fell onto his back.

The last Turkish resistance had been crushed now, he saw De Lyon lean heavily on his saber for support, sometime, something must have caught him, blood was streaming down over his eye and cheek.
Somewhere behind him, a multiple crack of arqebuses signalled another flurry of activity.

He somehow managed to force himself to his feet.

Slowly and steadily, he struggled over to De Lyon, who looked up waearily at him.
"Thanks" Was all he said, Rictus let a smile come to his lips.
"You too"

--

Captain trotted into the compund, bodies three deep littered the ground, men had only just begun to move them away now.
Two of his sergeants, almost corpses themsleve, were at the lip of this horrid scene. He quickly saw them as Rictus and De Lyon.
Clerk beside him; "It looks like they did a Barkdreg"
"Indeed"
Bloomfield approached, holding a ragtag banner...


SGT.BLOOMFIELD:

Sgt. Bloomfield had handed Captain the Turkish standard and had received a compliment and one of those rare pats on the shoulder. Now he was coming over to where De Lyon was sitting in the public house, carrying two beers.

He set one down in front of De Lyon. He looked at De Lyon for a while.

"Thanks, lad," he said finally.


ARGAEL:

Following Sgt. Bloomfield's orders, Private Argael started to search for probable soldiers and officers of Turkish army hiding to prevent its capture.

With some headache, being the first time he had to bear with the noise of the firing arquebus of his fellowmen right beside his ear, a wound in his leg, provided by the scimitar of a turk that now lies next to other heathen corpses, and some heaviness in his body, he started to search all over the borders of the city.

Then between some of the up nad downs of the terrain, their it layed a sobbing man, with some 30 to 40 years on his back, almost covered by the body of a dead horse. He recognized him almost inmediately, it was Delfino aboy who entered the Company almost at the same time, but had better luck than him (until now), and being the only person that not called him smelly.

Using his arquebus as a pole, he moved the body of the horse and carried his 'friends' body to the doctors tent, unfortunately he was to late. Taking away his ring, a present he knew his father had given him as tradition, Argael thought it was best for his commanders to send it back in name of this unknown heroe.

Going back to his duties, he went back to the place he found Delfino. Next to the horse he spotted a couple of feet buried under the sand, he pulled and the body of a turk came to the open. He started to search him and found a couple of gold coins, handy at the time.

He then tried to take a necklace but the turk's head was to big, he decided then that he wasn't in need of it anymore, so he chopped it off and take the gold necklace. Shamelessly then, he cut off the heathen's fingers and take two rings from his hands.

Suddenly he noticed a little box under what was left of the body, by this moment some of the dogs and birds had already started to show up in the field. He wasn't a total ignorant but he didn't understand nothing of the papers inside the box.

He said to himself that this was to handed to Sgt. Bloomfield, being a more experienced man he could make a sort from this things. What he didn't realized was that he had just chopped to pieces one of the servents of the Emir of the Turkish Army.

While he was going back to report to the sergeant, he noticed a man hidding between some of the wrecks of the battle, he decided to make use of an old weapon his father once gave him when he was a child (a few days before he went to war and died). He turned back the other way acting like he didn't see him, hide behind the horses body, and took out and loaded a hand crossbow, taking aim in the shadowy figure that he had noticed before.

When the shadow thought the horizon was clear, it started to run outside the town, Argael knew he was an escapee, and shot his bolt directly on the escapees knee, breaking it. The man smashed its face to the floor and started to yell. Argael stood up, walked calmly and knocked the turk out with the arquebus. Judging from the robes and the jewels he was wearing he knew this was an important capture for him.

He carried the man all the way to where Sgt. Bloomfield was. Not before he had a little profitable searching while the lad was dreaming.

Argael: "Sir, Private Argael reporting the duty acomplished Sir. I'm Sorry Captain Sir for interrupting this way."

Sgt. Bloomfield: "For God sakes what are you doing smelly? And what have you got here?" Bloomfield noticed the weapon and the wound and started to laugh. "And I thought you didn't do nothing better than cook and clean the toilet".

Captain: "Who is this man, private? And why on earth did you bring it here?" He also noticed the weapon but he rather took a better glance on the turk's uniform. "Sergeant, have you noticed the uniform?"

Sgt. B: "No Sir but now that you mention it, this is a battle outfit only worn by the Turkish Emir Commanders. Impossible! They are not even near the battles".

Captain: "Good job private, you are dismissed."

Argael: "Sir I must also show you this papers I found in the field, I'm not a man of words so I think that you and the Sergeant, being of better knowledge, can do a better use of this". He hands out the papers and the Captain starts to open its eyes. "Excuse me Sir I must go to my duties".

The Captain just waved his hand and Argael goes away from the room with a smile in has face.


FORSTER:

Lt Forster surveyed the damage and what was left after the battle. He had lost some good men, both new and old. Storey's group had done well, all the cannon were captured, but he was unable to prevent his men from butchering the gunners. It seems there had been two battery of guns, but the infantry nailed the second.

Once the line was breached, the Janissaries fell back, right onto the lances of the calvary. It was over fairly quickly, and that surprised Lt Forster. After all he had heard about Janissaries, this seem almost too easy. Has the Pasha Turk fallen on such hard times?

He gave orders too his men to get the wounded to the aid station that was being set up in town. He sent Sgt Storey to gather any stray horse that could be found. Then it would be time to take care of their own horses and find a place to settle down.

He then set off to find the Captain.


LIONHEART:

De Lyon was still slowly removing his plate armour when Bloomfield arrived with two beers and sat down. De Lyon looked up through his blood-soaked eyes. Bloomfield placed one of the beers in front of him and just said "Thanks lad"

"Thanks to you and all your men", De Lyon said through gritted teeth as he removed his pauldron to reveal a blood-soaked tunic. "So that's what a Turkish sword feels like when it gets through" he said as he took a cloth and soaked in a small bowl of distilled liquid of some sort and applied it to the half-open wound. He winced a little before turning to Bloomfield to ask "You any idea how the rest of the battle went"

"Pretty nasty by all accounts", said Bloomfield. "Word is that Sgt. Misha lost a fair portion of his company to the east although most of the new boys seem to have come out of things relatively unscathed"

"Well at least that's some..merde!" De Lyon grimaced again as he pulled off his breast-armour. Another wound on his left side was exposed. "How the bloody hell did I get hit there? The armour's hardly been scratched"

"Look's like a bit of a schrapnel wound, my boy" answered Bloomfield. "Hey, let me do that" and the now grimy rag was once more applied to the wound to De Lyon's great discomfort.

"So the younger boys see a bit of the fight while my boys get a serious battering", he said at last.

"That's the way it is with the Company", responded Bloomfield. "It's the only way to learn the ways", and then turning to the door, "hey, it's Rictus". Rictus had just staggered into the place half-dazed.
"I thought you'd gone off to get yourself seen to about that nasty neck wound of yours?"

"Bah!" said Rictus coming over to the table. "It's too bloody busy there to get anything done. Just had time to check that my remaining boys were looked after before I came here for a spot of self-administered first-aid. You alright?" he said looking at De Lyon.

"Oh nothing serious", said the Frenchman. "Apart from the fact that I've got eight boys dead out there, a further ten who'll never fight again and about twelve who'll be on the next boat home" he paused. "Apart from that, I'm fairly glad to be alive still. What sort of damage did you boys suffer?"

"Nine killed, seven seriously wounded and another fifteen who'll be spending several months in rehab." answered Rictus.

"Well you're pretty lucky yourself", said Bloomfield, "if it wasn't for that neckguard you have there"

"Give me plate armour protection anyday", said De Lyon, "and not that medaieval stuff. This gear kept me alive today" and then remembering himself he continued "but before I forget Rictus, well done, your boys earned themselves a little rest after the fight they put up today"


LORD DURHAM:

Captain received the standard from a very weary Sergeant Bloomfield. He nodded, "Well done Elliot. Very well done."

He hoisted the standard for all to see. As tired as the men were, the cheer they let out was deafening.

As he wiped his brow a large man raced up to him. It took a moment before he recognised the person as Corporal Kozsey. The man was definately agitated.

"Corporal?"

"It's Sergeant Misha sir. He was with a knot of men. They were surrounded by Turks."

Captain thundered, "Well go look for him! He's too important to loose."

As the man raced back Captain slumped in his saddle. Not Misha! God no!

 

[unmerged(2826)]

Wa, those sure are some long posts, could you post the important events again please, that would make it much easier too understand. thanx, Farnese!!!

 

[Lord Durham]

ED: If you read the introduction at the beginning of this thread I state clearly that these are the Finished adventures of the Free Company that I have painstakingly cut & pasted from the main thread and placed here in chapters so those that want to read them, can.

Consider this a novel in progress, and for viewing pleasure only.

 

[Lord Durham]

The Fifth Chronicle of the Free Company


The Second Infidel Wars: 1579 - 1588: Part Four


MISHA:

Corporal Kozsey formed the men up again. He wanted another crack at those Turks in his front, now that they were beginning to realize that the Company had won this fight. Maybe there was still a chance that Sergeant Misha and his cohort could be rescued. In any event, he had to try. But he needed some support - support that could only come from HQ. He was about to dispatch a runner, when he saw a cavalryman riding by leading a spare horse. In a moment, the huge Pole had commandeered the animal, & was riding it for all it was worth back to where the Captain was standing. "Damn, I hate horses," Kozsey thought, "but what kind of Pole would I be if I couldn't ride?"

As the horse climbed the rise to the HQ, he could see the Captain raising a Turkish standard, & the men cheering. "Damn, they think this is already over. Well, I have some news for them!"

Dismounting, he raced up to the Captain on foot. The Captain seemed to recognize him instantly.

"Corporal?" the Captain asked.

"It's Sergeant Misha. He was with a knot of men. They were surrounded by Turks," Kozsey replied, the words coming out in a tumble. He was making a mess of this, he was sure.

But the Captain seemed to understand. "Well go look for him! He's too important to lose." The Captain barked a few quick orders, & the available men were dispatched to follow Kozsey & do what they could. Corporal Kozsey was already moving at high speed & had remounted before the Captain could finish giving his orders.

As soon as Kozsey returned to his men, he dismounted again & gave the order to advance. He knew he should have waited until the rest of the force was organized, but he just couldn't wait. As long as support was coming & their back was covered, he & the men just couldn't wait anymore - military dictates be damned. They advanced up the low rise that had served as the focal point of the skirmish on the eastern flank. At the crest, Kozsey got a clear view of the battlefield. The Janissaries were in full retreat & were being harried by Company cavalry. Kozsey couldn't see that they had any prisoners - if they did, the Company would be reclaiming its own soon enough.

As Corporal Kozsey looked down the eastern slope of the rise, he was struck by an odd sight. He swore for a moment that he saw the missing men of the Company standing in formation, as if at inspection - their uniforms clean & their weapons in hand. He blinked & looked again. No, not standing, they were laying in formation, as if asleep? He ran forward. No, not asleep, dead. The Company dead were arrayed as if for inspection, but they were all undoubtedly dead. Kozsey stopped & stared. "What the hell?"

The he remembered something Sergeant Misha once had told him. Something about elite units respecting their worthy adversaries. What was it? Rather than loot them, they would leave their most capable enemies on the battlefield arrayed for war, a signal to those who judged them in the next world that these men were warriors true. Or something like that. Misha had always been the one with the words. Kozsey had thought the sentiment kind of silly. He didn't anymore.

He looked down the line of bodies, & silently remembered each man's name, rank, & service record. "We won't forget you," he promised to himself. He lingered for awhile over the motionless form of Sergeant Misha. "Odd, he looked bigger in life than he does in death." Kozsey shook his head, & gave the orders to move the men for a proper Christian burial. "The Company takes care of its own." And so it goes.


STOREY:

Storey sat beside his horse wondering if being in the Calvary was such a good idea. Things had started off as planed with a surprise charge on the barn. The cannons had been quickly silenced but there was still the mayhem of in close fighting with the Janissaries that were stationed with the guns. He was still learning how to fight on horseback when suddenly that problem was solved for him. One moment he was slashing down at the enemy the next they were stabbing down at him as he half lay under his dead horse. Only the help of his men saved his body from being hacked to pieces. The fighting had been over for half an hour and he still sat there by his horse shaking. His father had told him that there was no shame in feeling fear as long as you still did your duty. He once told him of a time when he had heaved for an hour after his first battle but the point was that it was after the battle. Of course once he got control of himself he had gone through the bodies of the enemy dead and found quite a few trinkets. Storey sat upright and started feeling better. He had led his men in a successful attack and had lived to tell the tale. Besides he didn't think anyone had gone over the enemy bodies yet and he thought he would do his papa proud and remedy that oversight.


LORD DURHAM:

It was late in the day when I found Captain sitting by himself on a rocky outcropping just outside of town. As I approached he made an effort to put his back towards me. It was a subtle gesture, but it spoke volumes. I stopped short and watched him for a few moments. He seemed to shudder.

I heard sound behind me and turned to see several of the Lieutenants making their way towards the man. I moved over to intercept them, holding up a hand.

"What is it Clerk?"

I looked back over my shoulder. "I think Captain wants to be alone for a while."

d'Silva blustered, "I think Captain should know our men are still looting the corpses, even after the honour the Infidel showed to Misha."

My eyes grew misty. This was the part of the Annals I detested. Sometimes the burden was too much. d'Silva made to pass around me but I blocked him. "Leave him be, I said! Let the men carry on with their looting! They deserve it!" I spat the next words out, "We're mercenaries aren't we? The world doesn't expect us to have any honour!"

d'Silva stared at me, his brows knit in consternation. Finally Lieutenant Thebarge reached out and touched his arm, "Lets go back, Ferdinand. I think Clerk is right. Captain needs to be alone."

With a look of helplessness on his face the artillery lieutenant allowed himself to be led away. I watched them recede. After a few moments I turned back to Captain. His body shuddered again.

I wanted desperately to get drunk!


FORSTER:

Lt Forster was again making the rounds of his men. No new calvary horses were taken this time, but it didn't matter. He had lost more men than animals. They did capture 10 guns, with their draft animals and supplies. That was good. Forster heard the Captain talking about some new recruits that wanted to fire the guns, so that will add to our siege and assault ability.

Arrangements had been made to move the wounded to the coast, where they would be put on a ship and sent back to Palermo. The boat was to hug the Italian coast,so as not to run into any of the Pasha's ships.
Those not too badly hurt were bandaged after pouring grappa into the wounds to help cleans and sterilize.

Volunteers have been streaming into the little village, wanting to join the most famous mercenary unit in the world. Captain has been carefully screening them to see if they would be fit enought to make the grade.

Word was that we would soon be on the move again.


LORD DURHAM:

Rest and Recoup

Those that were not on patrol or foraging duty stood along the rocky coastline of Istria watching the transports sail north on their long journey home to Palermo.

The bodies had been placed in coffins and Captain made a big deal out of observing all the various religious ceremonies that went with this solemn time. A casual onlooker would be quite shocked to see Christian standing with Orthodox standing with Muslim paying their last respects to fallen comrades.

To the men of the Free Company it was no big thing. Many of the younger recruits had a hard time putting aside past prejudices, and it was to be expected, but a firm talking to by one of the veterans quickly put matters in perspective. If that did not work they were sent packing. It should be noted that Barkdreg took special relish in teaching the recruits proper manners.

As the ships became mere specks on the horizon Captain called his Lieutenants together for an impromptu meeting. They gathered around him, finding seats on the rocky shore. I was ever ready with my parchment.

"I have decided to take Sergeant Misha's men," there was a slight waver when Captain mentioned his name, "and use them to replace losses in De La Croix's battalion."

De La Croix nodded. His command had taken the brunt of the battle, with Bloomfield, Zagloba, De Lyon and Rictus suffering the worst. Taking on Misha's men would give them automatic veterans. They wouldn't have to worry about breaking in recruits. That job would now belong to someone else.

"Lieutenant Forster," he glanced his way, "managed to secure ten additional artillery pieces of the 30 pound culverin variety, complete with siege train and some draught animals. Good work."

The others echoed Captain's gratitude to the veteran cavalry commander. Capturing workable artillery was no small feat.

"We're currently looking for trained personnel to use them," d'Silva interjected. "General Furlano has agreed to supply us with some of his experts to help in the training."

Captain continued, "We have had a steady trickle of soldiers coming into town asking to join. A lot of them are locals that were hiding in the hills and causing the Turk whatever trouble they could. I think their skills could be useful. I want you to have your Sergeants split the recruits up, sign the good ones and send the others on to the Venetians."

The men chuckled at that. The Venetian army had met little resistance at Richenberg and were quite surprised, and no doubt relieved, that the Company had made first serious contact. General Furlano expressed his gratitude repeatedly until Captain subtly impressed on the man the need to reach Trieste and begin a siege before the city had time to properly prepare. The last couple of days had seen the Venetian army marching past Beruvic south to the capital of Istria. When Furlano inquired as to the state of the Company, Captain said he would need a week to ten days before resuming action. Furlano had no choice but to agree. It would take that long to reach and properly begin the siege of Trieste anyway.

"Any questions?" Captain asked.

Forster said, "Foraging's scarce around here Captain, especially with all the horses and draught animals. This isn't exactly prime grazing land."

Captain agreed, "I figure we have a week left at the most. Don't worry. I think we'll be on the march before then."

Thebarge raised a bushy white eyebrow, "Where to? Trieste?"

Captain shook his head, "Don't think so. Apparently the Turk is quite active in Croatia."

The men groaned.


SGT.BLOOMFIELD:

Sgt. Elliot T. Bloomfield had just returned from a wearying three-day trip in the Istrian heat to the main force of the Venetian army, conveying the secret and interesting information discovered by his able footman, Argael. It was Captain's position to leave intelligence to others. The Free Company would do what it was best at, Bloomfield thought: drink. (And fight, of course.)

Bloomfield had brushed some of the dust from his worn uniform and put his feet up. The serving wench was bringing a tankard of cool, wonderfully wet-looking ale. Bloomfield reached out for the ale. At that moment, the door flew open, and Lt. De La Croix walked in and snapped: "Sgt Bloomfield!" Bloomfield jumped up and and jerked to attention. "At ease, Sergeant," De La Croix said and Bloomfield moved his right foot an inch forward but remained otherwise as rigid as he had been. All except his eyes, that is, which rolled over, trying to glance and the tankard of fresh, cool ale. Bloomfield could feel his parched toungue clinging to the top of his mouth, and he had a hard time concentrating on what De La Croix was saying.

"Sergeant, I see you have returned. Good work at the battle. You will find that I have assigned a lot of experienced Company men to your unit to make up for your losses. Make sure they are integrated quickly and now the drill. Are your men ready to march?"

"Sir?"

"You haven't heard, Bloomfield? We're off to Croatia. Well, in that case, you had better attend to your men, rather than to your leisure. I want a report in half an hour that your men are ready to march. Run along, Sergeant, at the double! Dismiss!"

Bloomfield shot one last glance at his ale, saluted and hastened to find his men. Mmh, thought De La Croix, Bloomfield forgot his beer. Well, best not let it go to waste. He took a deep drink. Agh, he sighed. Another swig, and De La Croix walked from the room, whistling a hornpipe, called Off to Croatia.


LORD DURHAM:

Advance to the Sava River

On August 12 the Company set out from Beruvic and marched south and east until they linked up with General Furlano and elements of the Venetian army.

The Venetians had left a covering force to carry on the siege of Trieste. Captain had donated his 10 siege guns, keeping the 10 captured culverins for the campaign. This freed up hundreds of draught horses that would not be required for the march. Forage in the mid summer would be hard enough without taking care of extra mouths to feed. Especially animal mouths.

The 20000 soldiers of the Venetian and Company army made their way east over the Dinaric Alps until they had reached a tributary of the mighty Sava River. They paralleled the river for the next few days until reaching the Sava itself. Before them laid the vast rich plains created by the soil deposits left by the Sava River. Holding this area which laid north of the capital city of Zagreb would be vital to the campaign.

At that point they rendezvoused with 10000 men from Milan, under command of a General Porta. It was obvious Porta and Furlano were not drinking buddies, as they appeared to have had a history of bad blood between them. Captain shook his head in wonder. It looked like we would have three enemies to fight now.

After a days rest filled with meetings that often degenerated into shouting matches, word reached that an army of Turks was slowly making its way up Croatia from their southern province of Bosnia. The numbers were uncertain, but they were determined to be over 20000 men, at least.

Faced with this news the two sparring Generals made their first intelligent decision. They decided to march south and place themselves between Zagreb and the Turks. That would give them a few days to rest and prepare defenses for the encroaching Infidel.

That left me to ponder one thing. Croatia was a Hungarian province. So where in hell were the Hungarians?


SGT.BLOOMFIELD:

Barkdreg: "Mhm, I like these Hungarians." Chewing sounds. "Try some, Warspite. There is a hand left in the pot! And you better hurry, I fear we are running out. Dunno, but married life has given me an appetite..."


FORSTER:

Lt Forster had his men out running reconnaissance patrols as they moved down their next location. He too was wondering where their erstwhile ally was. It would be so much easier to have someone who knows the terrain when doing these operations.


LORD DURHAM:

Evening Campsite

The generals decided to split the army into three columns to minimize the effects of foraging. More likely it was to keep Furlano and Porta from tearing each other apart.

The Milanese took the left position with their army of 9000 infantry and 1000 cavalry, in addition to 15 8-pound 'sakers'. The sakers were ideal cannon for a battle, with an straight line range of 150 paces. Their extreme range was approximately 2500 paces. On the morning of August 18 they crossed the Sava River and swung out east and then angled south.

The Venetian army took the centre with 13000 infantry, 2000 cavalry and 10 artillery pieces. These were a mixture of 8-pound 'sakers' and 16-pound cannons. The cannons had about the same range as the 'saker' but fired a heavier shot. It was the job of the centre to follow the river south and secure the area in front of Zagreb, or Gradec as it was locally known.

The Free Company took the right wing with their 3500 infantry, 800 cavalry, 10 culverins and an additional 5000 infantry from the Venetian army under command of a Colonel Belluno. The culverins were the guns captured by Lieutenant Forster and Sergeant Bloomfield at Beruvic. They were 14-pound field pieces with a straight line range of 200 paces and an extreme range of 3500 paces.

The Company crossed the river on the same August morning and marched west some distance before heading south. At the close of the second day we found ourselves approaching a valley. Captain called a halt for the day.

* * *

Captain and I we're finishing our evening meal when Sergeant Bloomfield and pikeman Argael approached the tent. Captain waved them in and indicated some wine over in the corner. Bloomfield eyeballed Argael and the footman went to pour two mugs. They sat on two wooden stools while Captain shuffled some papers.

Lieutenant Forster walked in and nodded quickly at Bloomfield. He was dusty from a hard days ride. "We managed to scout ahead a full days march, Captain," he began, "We haven't seen anything as of yet. I've got recon out in force and pickets up in the hills just in case. Storey's out further, but he hasn't reported back."

Captain nodded, "Very good, Forster. Keep a sharp eye out and make sure the men do nothing stupid if they contact the Turk. Especially their cavalry. We will have to assume they're Spahis."

Forster grunted agreement.

Argael asked, "Spahis?"

We all looked at him as if he had fallen out of a tree. The footman stared at the ground, "Sorry Captain."

Captain snapped, "Explain it to him Clerk."

I began, "The Spahis are the elite Turkish cavalry." I paused trying to think of a comparison. "You saw the Janissaries fight?"

Argael nodded, "Of course."

"Well then, think of them as mounted Janissaries. Their primary weapons are lance, scimitar and bow."

The footman was puzzled, "Bow?"

"Composite bow. It's a weapon they are born to. In a ranged fight our pistols would be no match for their archers. Only close in might we stand a chance with our heavier mounts and melee weapons against their lighter armour."

Captain was satisfied the history lesson was over and broke in, "Get some rest Forster and something to eat. You look like you need it."

The cavalry Lieutenant gave Bloomfield a quick look and left the tent in a flurry of motion.

Captain leaned back on his stool. There were several moments of silence until, "Sergeant Bloomfield. The report I read on young Argael was quite startling, do you not agree?"

Bloomfield said, "Yes sir. He not only performed well in battle but he was responsible for the capture of those letters and the prisoner."

Captain waved his hand in a dismissing gesture, "Yes, yes. Do you think the punishment is necessary then?"

Bloomfield eyed the young footman for long moments, "Aye. I believe it is."

Captain nodded sharply, "Fine. Corporal Argael, you are dismissed. Consider your punishment as officially starting now."

Argael got up to leave then stopped. He said, "Pardon me sir? Did you say Corporal?"

Bloomfield barked, "Trouble with your hearing, boy?"

Argael's smile split his face open, "No sir. The hearing's fine, sir."

"Good then. Out! I'll talk to you later."

Corporal Argael smiled again and left the tent in a hurry.

Captain went back to shuffling papers. Bloomfield regarded me with a raised eyebrow. I began to write.

"Bloomfield."

"Sir?"

"De La Croix and I have come to a decision," Captain began. "He feels his health is not up to the rigors of commanding his battalion any longer." Captain paused, "He has asked to take over the rookie battalion in a training capacity."

Bloomfield felt a lump in his stomach, "But De La Croix has led the 'Crazies' for going on thirty years."

"Don't think I don't know that, Bloomfield? The man that replaces him has his work cut out for him."

"Yes, sir."

"I saw what you did in Beruvic, Bloomfield. That was gutsy leadership. You displayed quick thinking and quick decision making. You turned the near loss of De Lyon and Rictus's commands into a victory with your flanking attack." Captain paused again. "I think you know where I'm going, Bloomfield. The men respect you. I'm offering you a promotion to Lieutenant and command of De La Croix's battalion." Captain stood up and inspected a map. Quietly he said, "Want it?"

Bloomfield barely hesitated, "Yes, sir."

Captain turned and held out his hand, "Congratulations, Lieutenant Bloomfield." They shook.

A moment later Forster burst back into the tent with Storey in tow. The Sergeant was breathing heavy from a hard ride. I got him a drink.

Storey downed it quickly, giving me an appreciative glance, "Captain. Maybe twenty miles. Two days march. Turks. Perhaps 7000 to 9000 that I could see."

Captain walked to a map. We all crowded around. Storey stabbed a finger on the opposite side of a tributary running east-west off the Sava river. "About here. I'd guess they have 4000 foot, maybe 1000 of them Janissaries. The horse I would hazard to be split even between Spahis and Turkish irregulars."

"Did they see you?"

"I don't think so."

"Which way were they headed?"

Storey shook his head, "Can't be entirely certain. It was getting dark and they were settling down. I would guess they may follow the river east and come out behind Zagreb."

Lieutenant Bloomfield whistled, "And right into the flank of General Furlano."

Captain said, "Forster, send some messengers to Furlano and warn him. Tomorrow we'll continue south. I have a feeling the Turk will scout out the valley ahead of us anyway. Storey. Good work. I want you rested and ready to pick up their trail at dawn. Be careful though. Lieutenant Forster, you'll be our screen tomorrow so you be careful too." He turned to Bloomfield, "And Lieutenant, I think you should get acquainted with your command. I'm afraid it may be a baptism by fire."

 

[Lord Durham]

The Fifth Chronicle of the Free Company


The Second Infidel Wars: 1579 - 1588: Part Five



LORD DURHAM:

Contact

The men were finishing their morning meal when a squad of horse raced into camp with a purpose.

Many of the mercenaries stopped what they were doing and looked back the way the recon squad had come. Most of them had an uneasy feeling.

Something was up.

Captain was exiting his tent when the corporal in charge of the recon squad reined in his horse and leapt off. He pointed back down the valley and spoke in a rush. I approached as the man finished his report. I saw Captain pat the man on the shoulder and dismiss him. The lieutenants, sensing something was up, began to gather. Soon we were all standing about.

"What's up, Captain?" asked Thebarge. "Is it the Turk?"

Captain nodded, "Looks like they spotted us after all. They've stolen a march on us. They're maybe half a day away."

The men looked at each other. Newly promoted Lieutenant Bloomfield unconsciously adjusted his codpiece.

d'Silva asked, "Same numbers we heard last night?"

"Yep. Get the men roused. I want to get to the high ground by mid - morning. We need the hills to protect our flanks against the Turkish cavalry. I want to force a frontal confrontation. Get to it. I'll inform our Venetian cohorts."

* * *

By late morning the Free Company and their Venetian allies found themselves in position. 3000 Company troops and 4500 Venetians formed ranks in the centre of a rather deep valley. The Company held the right and their allies took the left. On either flank were 400 Company cavalry, reasonably protected from any flanking maneuvers by the steep rocky hillsides. Ranged on the right slope in front of Forster's men were the ten culverins. Their height would give them added range. d'Silva was pleased. 500 Company and 500 Venetian infantry were held in reserve.

It was good ground.

By noon the Turk had marched up in formation before them. They had arrayed themselves with 3000 Sekban soldiers in the centre. These men were armed with arquebus, swords and mail armour. On the right wing were the famed Spahis cavalry, 1500 men, and on the left were 1500 Turkish irregulars armed with bows, lances and scimitars. In reserve were 1000 Janissaries. They had about 15 culverins which they ranged in front of their infantry.

The two armies faced each other for a short length of time. Finally, to the blast of horns and the sound of drums, the Turk advanced.


STOREY:

Corporal Storey stood by his horse looking toward the Turks. He figured there were between 1500 and 2000 cavalry facing his flank. With only 400 cavalry on this wing he wasn't sure if he liked the odds. Of course in this terrain riding was not going to be easy. It looked like he and the others may start the battle as foot soldiers. If the Turks broke then there might be some riding as they pursued them. At least the terrain was in their favor but that was a lot of cavalry in front of them. This might be one of those times where letting the enemy come to us would be best. He hoped the Captain had a surprise for the Turks or this could be another bloody affair.


LIONHEART:

Thought about it a bit more and I think a LARGE part of the venetians need to go for the Spahis. At the very least they must be kept out of the main infantry battle in the middle. Our cavalry on the wing can try to help to contain the mounted troops and stop them closing on the main fight. With the reserves behind, the numbers should hold the elite cavalry from helping in the pitch battle and annoying our troops.

To the right, the cavalry's job will be just that - too harass. Since they're irregulars, they'll think again from joining in a battle that leaves them exposed to the rear from cavalry. Having said that, even though they are irregulars, numbers favour them against 400 cavalry so the wheeling movements should work better here and those stray regiments can be picked off by a well coordinated charge.

If this works out I see now reason why we can't pummel the central force to routing before the Janissaries join when numbers will prevail

Unless, that is, the Turks are commanded by that famed general Effendi Mustafa al Tarik.

Hey, Argael, get your men in formation with Zagloba's. You've seen the way Lt. Bloomfield always used to do it.


SGT.BLOOMFIELD:

The Turkish advance

As Lieutenant Elliot Thaddeus Bloomfield hastened back from the last conference of the officers and Captain, he could hear the drums beating the Turkish advance. A fresh cloud of dust was rising in the South and soon the dark mass of th Turkish companies would dissolve into regiments and soldiers. Bloomfield hastened forward and shaded his eyes as he looked down into the valley.

Captain was right: The Turkish must be in a hurry or hellfire sure of themselves. They were advancing straight up the middle, and the best stragegy would be to wait for them. Quickly Bloomfield turned and saw that his Sergeants had the five regiments of his command in order, in horn formation.

He called the sergeants to him. "Friends," he said, "if the Venetians are worth their salt and disciplined, we will make short work of the Turk. They are advancing on us and that means that they are marching past their culverins: Their bloody guns will be of no use to them. Listen: Captain expect the Turks to come for the Free Company first, because the terrain is easier here. When they get close, we will deploy in square, and I depend on you to make it quick and clean. Lightning quick. Watch out for the new men in your units. Sgt. Zagloba: watch Cpl Argael, he doesn't know yet how he will be most useful. Once in sqaure, we will retreat fifty paces. The Turks will follow us, and advance. At that point, our ten sorry guns will open fire from the hillsides, raking along their lines. Much more effective. After that, our culverins will probably receive the fire of theirs. But that first bombardment will hopefully cause them some misery and confusion. We will redeploy in the horn, then advance at the double, stop for one fusilage from the arquies, and at them! Got that? Questions?"

Sgt. Rictus spoke up: "What about the flanks? Won't their cavalry start giving us trouble, Lieutenant?"

"Captain thinks not: The terrain is too rough and steep. We may not have enough cavalry to go at them, but we have enough to cover the infantry. Alright? Good, then let's pray that the Venetians do their bit! Dismiss."

As the sergeants hurried back their regiments, Lt Bloomfield looked again at the advancing enemy. He had seen more battles than he could remember in his day, but he was nervous as if this was his first. The men were accepting his new role, and seemed to accept it almost more readily than he himself. He glanced at the Venetians, the hillsides, his men. His men. And with men like these, Bloomfield thought, let the bloody Turk come.


ARGAEL:

Corporal Argael is trying to get his men under his command to have some respect for him. It is obvious that most of them just a couple of days before where calling him 'smelly', and now they where calling him Corporal Smell. That was not quiet what he spacted when he was promoted, but some people just where born to be messed up with.

After he get them in formation, he presented himself to Sergeant Zagloba, and asked him what where his orders. Zagloba told him to be put and firm, to run when he said run, to charge when he said charge, and above all try not to become a hero, that was his job.

Cpl. Argael: "As you know Sir, I am a good long range shooter, and with my own baby I can do lots of things - he smiles and caressess his crossbow -. I know that we are somewhat outnumbered, but I know that me and my man can do the difference. Sir, I'm asking you permission to post my men in the top of the hills, we both know that the Turks believe in two things their Commanders and Allah, so we will take them both."

Sgt. Zagloba: "What in hell are you talking about?"

Argael: "Sir, I'm asking you to let us get in the higher parts of the hill, we will then from there fire our arms hitting only the commanders, without leadership those heathens will be like sheep going to the slaughter. After that we can leave those troops to the venetians and our forces can be moved to other fronts. We can even use the prisoners uniform in our advantage, someone could spy for us the enemy's manouvers."

Zagloba looks at him, and goes to Lt. Bloomfield with Argael's idea, maybe the boy has a chance to flip this thing over.


SGT.BLOOMFIELD:

Lt. Bloomfield: "Well, Sergeant, do you need him in your regiment?"

Sgt. Zagloba: "Frankly, Sir, Cpl Argael disrupts things more than he helps at this point."

Bloomfield: "That settles it. Tell him he can have three men of his choosing, no more. And tell him to be quick. The Turk will be upon us soon. And I'll buy him a beer for each officer he picks off."


ARGAEL:

Corporal Argael takes the three men that Sgt. Zagloba hands him, he also knew they were sharpe shooters and that they were wild, almost mad. Giuliano had over his shoulders about 15 years of war, Alessandro had not only the same years of combat but also the most unwanted collection of trophies of war (fingers and teeth) and Bonifacio was the most uncleaned man on earth besides the heathen.

The three couldn't be found in the rested part of a battle, they couldn't even handle the day with out picking a fight. As for drinks, the three could handle alone a brewery and they will not think of a good meal without a beer. In fact, wine was good for the courts but not for a warrior. They believed themselves only carnivores, the vegetables where only part of the view if they where sight seeing.

So the idea of leaving the Company, to take a little spot in the hills wasn't nothing of their likes. Instead they started to pick on Argael. Suddenly in an act of craziness, Corporal Argael just hit Giuliano between the legs, smashed Alessandro's mouth with a metal glove he had off and waited to see Bonifacio's reaction. Then he called them to order and layed out his plan.

"First we shall make some protection for us, using those big rocks over there". It was an almost natural bunker that could easily cover them, but left their rear end unsighted. That would prevent them from seeing if they were being attacked from behind. Major problem that the Corporal was trying to resolve. Then he saw Bonifacio cutting with his knife a piece of a cloth to cover his head with. The shinning sun reflecting on the metal piece gave him an idea.

With some difficulty he started to polish his metal shield, he was doing this swiftly before he noticed the movement of some of the reserve troops in the turkish side. This troops, he thought, would try to out flank us in the eastern side, if I don't get this to the men down there it could be awful. So he stopped polishing his shield, and tried to see how far it would go the reflection, but he had to hide because it seemed like some of the turks saw the glance, but then he noticed that a minor group of horsemen where been separated from the cavalry, would they try to outflank us also with a group of cavalry men or are they up to something?- he thought for himself. The advance point they took enable them to see what was happening far beyond some of the scouts view, but unable them to tell. That's why he told his men what was happening and what was he thinking.

Then Argael remembered his crossbow, he counted his bolts, 20. He asked if any of them could write properly, Bonifacio answered that he had been schooled in a monastery, but didn't had any ink or paper. Argael, asked if anyone had paper or ink, but the other two had lesser knowledge than his. Fortunately Alessandro came up with an idea. In a metal they put some water, then Alessandro cut himself and put some of his blood in it, with a stick Bonifacio started to write in a useless shirt that Giuliano had. They stripped the shirt and the part with the message was tied to the bolt.

Argael took aim and shot, then hide again before he could be seen by the enemy. The turks had scouts patroling very near that place. Then He and his men started to count how many officers where there in the ranks, and which where the ones with higher rank. He then told his men to polish their metal wear too. It is time to show the infidel that Allah, is God, but he is with us. If we can blind the officers they wont see the signals of the generals, and then they would be lost.

****

While Lt. Bloomfield was talking about his strategy with his officers a bolt crashed near his right foot. He realized it was from Argael, who else had a crossbow and started to read the note. Immediately he opened his eyes and knew what was happening far beyond his point of view. Reinforcements were coming and the turks were ready to try anything.

****

The steps of a horse are coming too close. Argael gives the signal to be in silence. The four see the legs of the horse near the entrance of the place where they are hiding. Alessandro takes Bonifacio's knife, slowly goes to the entrance and waits for what would happen. Argael takes a bolt and loads his weapon. Alessandro gives a signal, Giuliano starts barking and Bonifacio starts to yell, somehow for Argael this seems ridiculous, but not new for them. Then the turk scout comes down his horse and enters the 'bunker', Alessandro takes him and stabs him in the belly.

Giuliano that has a little of knowledge of arabic, puts the scouts uniform on and then calls out to the other scouts that there's no problem. His arabic been as bad as Argael's writing, makes the other scouts come to our point, Argael then thinks the only way to not giving out our position is to kill them silently, therefore his orders are not to use the fire arms but to kill them with the swords, besides not one of them could get out alive.

Argael's men, being the men of war that they were, easily killed the other two scouts that were near the 'bunker', but didn't noticed the scout that was far from us, who in fact saw everything. Argael saw him too far away to catch'em and, made a fast decision, shot his crossbow. He didn't hit the scout, but hit the horse who tripped and made the scout fall from it. Alessandro and Giuliano caught the scout before he could get a cry of help out of his mouth, but the horse kept on running.

"Lets just hope that the horse doesn't run to the turks, being our fault the start of this battle, lets just hide, and start again our count remember our true objective are the officers, not the footmen." Argael, glanced to the horizon and started to see that another army was coming, friend or foe, that he couldn't tell. The information was written again and sent, another bolt near Sgt. Zagloba. He got on his knees and prayed "Lets just hope that the bolts aren't all spent before the battle".


LORD DURHAM:

Last Minute Orders

Captain sat his horse on a rise to the rear of the action. Just below him were the two reserve columns of 500 men from each army.

Further down he could see the six battalions of the Free Company moving into formation as the Sekban infantry continued their slow march forward. With satisfaction he noted Bloomfield's men reacting quickly to the new Lieutenant's orders. De La Croix's old command had always held the right centre position of honour. It usually placed them in the thickest of battle but they were also his best men. Thebarge held the left centre with veterans equally battle hardened. De La Croix's rookie squad was located on the extreme left and slightly refused from the Turk. They were the gap between the Company and the Venetians. If there was a problem it could very well be there. Captain knew the Venetians were an unknown factor.

Captain said to me, "Odd. The Sekbans are out running their guns. Either they are incredibly foolhardy or they have something planned." The aging leader scratched his head under the hot sun. "I suppose we have to wait."

I said. "The Janissaries are holding position for now, but it looks like the irregulars are advancing on Storey's men. Those Turks will have a tough go of it, especially with the culverins there."

"Aye," Captain replied. "Storey's doing the right thing. He's dismounting to take advantage of the ground. Note how he leaves a small mounted reserve in case of a chance to exploit."

I pointed to our left wing, "The Spahis seem content to wait. Perhaps they wish to see how their Anatolian cousins fare?"

Captain nodded. "I like not the placing of Warspite's cavalry. The Venetians have formed lines too close. If the Spahis should charge Warspite could very well be thrown back onto the Venetian pikes. Take this message: Sergeant Warspite, my compliments. Your position is tenuous. Bring your cavalry back to the reserve. I will have the Venetians extend lines into the rocky slope. Go carefully. We don't want to spook the Turks or our allies."

I finished writing it and gave it to a messenger boy. He rode off like the wind.

"Now write another to our illustrious Venetian commander Col. Melo and tell him to extend his line to cover Warspite's old position. Tell him I will detail his portion of the reserve to cover his rear."

I finished the second note and off it went.

Captain turned to Lieutenant Forster, "When Warspite gets back here have him shift to our right and prepare to back up acting Sergeant Storey or our right flank if need be. Unfortunately this narrow valley hinders our movement as much as the enemies."

Forster shaded his eyes and looked towards the hills, "Who's the fool up there flashing signals?"

His question went unanswered as d'Silva's culverins let rip their first volley.

This was followed moments later by the Turkish guns. It turned out the Sekbans had merely masked the fact the Turks had shifted their guns to face the Venetian left flank, and now they rained their shot on the allied wing.

Captain's gut knotted. There was no way Warspite would have the message to pull back yet. Chances were he was in the middle of it...


LIONHEART:

De Lyon was stationed on the centre right flank of the Free Company infantry. To his right lay the fifth regiment and beyond that a steep incline on top of which, he knew were Storey's cavalry. Further down the slope, but still above the main infantry battalion was a large force of what appeared to be lightly armed Turkish militia.

But the immediate problem lay directly ahead with the infantry. The regiment had already realigned into the "horn" and once the Turks had advance to well within firing range, the signal was raised and a well order volley of arques let loose. Following a well ordered pattern, the front row of arquebusiers fell back to reload while the next row moved forward and repeated the procedure.

Just then he noticed a flash from on the slope to the left. Argael and his boys were playing Robin Hood again. Let's just hope Sgt Zagloba can hold that regiment on his own.

As the Turks approached, the time would come for the arquebusiers to put away their guns and get involved in the hand to hand fighting. Once again, this would be a well-rehearsed feature being left for the last minute while the pikemen covered the glamour boys giving them time to draw their weapons. Those boys from Misha's regiment sure know their drill.

By this time, the Turks had broken into a steady trot in order to maintain formation. The depth of the Turkish lines looked rather narrow but there was always the danger of a potential flanking manouevre. De Lyon would need to keep an eye to his right for any potential danger. NOt that it was his particular concern but would be needed to keep the men from pushing forward too quickly. For the moment though, things were running smoothly. We'll just have to see how the first impact to see how things develop. Any breakthrough, on either side would be critical to the battle.


FORSTER:

Lt Forster surveyed the battle from on top of the hill with the Captain. This didn't look good at all. He was sure Warspite's cossacks could handle the right, the irregulars would be easy meat for his men, but they were not in a good position. The captain had already noticed the same thing and was now sending a message for them to pull back to a less exposed position.

The left, though, had him worried. Sgt Storey had dismounted his men, as it was very difficult terrain for horses. Still, he was facing the vaunted Spahis cavalry, and there was no telling what could happen there. We are outnumbered, and facing elite troops. It was going to get very, very messy.

He wondered why the Turks were leaving their artillery behind. Were they so cock-sure of themselves? He had his scouts with him, and he decided he better send them out around the rear and flanks, just to be sure there were no surprises.

Now, since the Turks don't seem to need their artillery, maybe we could make use of it.


RICTUS:

Rictus winced as the Turkish cannon opened fire, but he felt relief that they weren't the targets. Instead, it was the Venetians who would be suffering Allahs wrath for now. He gripped his weighty halberd tighter and looked down the slope, where a mass of heathan humanity was marching its way towards him.

Across the square, De Lyon had started issuing orders, ponderously, the men under their charge turned slighty to face a larger mass of the Sekbahs heading their way, Rictus helped in this by growling at the few troopers who briefly broke formation.

The arqebus troops were getting increasingly worried, they knew that in a massed assault like this, without the safelty of a score of men either side of you, they would be swept away and butchered, the sdergeants knew this too and were probably thinking their own ways of saving their men, Rictus toyed with the idea of having shelter in the mniddle of their square once the true fighting began, that way they ould provide covering fire, but it would leave the square briefly vulnerable.

The heathen cannon thundered again, slamming another dozen shells into the packed mass of venetians to the left of them. A few scattered shots were coming from the Sekbahs ahead of them now, though no man was hit, it showed the range. They were close now, really close.

What had happened to those blasted culverins?

 

[Lord Durham]

The Fifth Chronicle of the Free Company


The Second Infidel Wars: 1579 - 1588: Part Six


SGT.BLOOMFIELD:

"DEPLOY IN SQUARE" Lt. Bloomfield shouted, and the cry was taken up and repeated by the Seregeant of the Free Company. But the men and been expecting the order, and with the calm smoothness of experience and well-drilled crack troops, the horn disolved and reformed as squares.

With an eye on the advancing Turks, Bloomfield waited another minute. "BACK FIFTY PACES!" he ordered. The regiments retreated to the sergeants shouts of "Steady, there!" "Stay in line, you bugger!" "Corporal, take that man's name!"

A cheer went up from the Turkish infantry and they hastened to close with the retreating enemy. Bloomfield saw the officers trying to restrain the men, a mounted officer actually beating men with the flat of his scimitar to get their attention. But suddenly the man jerked back. Blood spouted from his neck and his horse reared. Bloomfield looked up at the hillside, but he could see no signe of Cpl. Argael or his men.

"HALT!" Again Bloomfield gave the men time as he paced in front of the formation. "ARQUEBUSIERS, READY!" The pikemen in front of the Arquebusiers knelt and braced their pikes. Bloomfield stepped back behind the lines. He raised his sabre. And still the Turks were coming on, some now breaking into a run, others hesitating at the sight of the bristling wall of pikes. But those were pushed on by the troops behind them. 60 paces now.

20 paces was the perfect range for the horribly inaccurate arquies, Bloomfield knew, and he now called out to the sergeants to steady their men. He could see that Zagloba on the flank was adjusting his line to take advantage of a little knoll at the foot of the hill's slope. Good man, Bloomfield thought.

40 paces. Bloomfield glanced toward the Venetians. They were holding their ground, but they looked stiff and their officer made no adjustments to new tactical situation. He glanced back at Captain, and saw him intently staring over to the left, where the cavalry was to hold the flank against the dreaded Spahis.

30 paces. "READY!"
He heard Sgt. Rictus' clear voice: "Aim low, you bastards, low! And no man fire before the word!"

20 paces: "FIRE!" As Bloomfield brought his sword down, a ragged roar erupted from the lines of Company men and Bloomfield's vision was lost in the powder smoke. But he heard the deep booming of the culverins on the hill side.


RICTUS:

<<crack!!!>>

Multiple scores of arqebuses was an impressive sight. Sgt. Rictus decided, now the first rank of men were already busy loading while the second stepped up.

Elsewhere, the Turkish guns hurled another hail of death into the Venetians, though he could only tell this by the distance rumble and the shaking beneath his booted feet.

"FIRE!" Lt. Bloomfield cried again, another wave of arqebuses unleashed hell into the Turks and another line of infantry crumbled.
They were close now, and practically running, though both times they had fired upon them, a significant tremor of panic had surged through the heathens.

"FIRE!" Another rank joined their dead or dying comrades. A thunderclap sounded surprisingly close to his right as the culverins sounded for a second time.

"Ready..." He heard De Lyon command, Bloomfield had drawn his own sword (is he on horseback?)

"READY" Bloomfield shouted, several hundred pikes snapped to attention, giving the Turks something else to think about, and another slight pause streamed through them.

Across the battlefield, sergeants gripped and regripped their halberds and focused...


STOREY:

Storey and his men waited dismounted on the slopes of the hill. The battle had been joined below them but as yet they hadn't taken part. The Venetian troops were taking a pounding but were still holding firm. The smoke and dust was starting to blanket the field below him and was making the actions of their own troops not to mention the Turks hard to follow. Well for now he knew to hold where he was and wait for either an order from the Captain or if the opportunity arose take whatever action seemed best. The problem was the decreasing visibility. Where the hell was the Saphis Calvary? All he could see of them was a dust cloud where they used to be.


SGT.BLOOMFIELD:

The lines clashed on the battlefield, the flowing uniforms of the Turks a contrast to the jerkings and knee-breeches of the Papal mercenaries. The Turks were fierce fighters, but their battle order had all but disolved under the arquebusier salvos and the Free Company was hard and disciplined. If this went on, the shaken and officerless Turks would never stand.

"Boy!" Bloomfield called to a messenger, and pointed to the right. "Run up that hillside quick, and tell me if they are deploying their reserves!" He scribbled a note to Captain and sent another runner off with it.

When he turned back, he saw that his men were fighting well. Rictus was in the thick of it directing his men and using his halberd freely. On Right, Zagloba's arquies were peppering the Turks from the little hillock. On the left, De Lyon was moving his men to prevent the Turks from running up between his regiment and the next battalion.

"Keep at them!" Bloomfield shouted.


FORSTER:

Lt Forster was watching the battle with some trepidation. So far neither side had been able to use the cavalry, but how long would that hold. His scouts returned one by one, none had found any additional forces approaching the battle.
And the Turks did not have any flanking formations trying to get around us. The Venetians were taking horrendous casualties from the cannon fire. He made a quick decision, gathering his scouts, he swung wide behind the hill, picking his way carefully. He made his way to a point where he could see the Turkish cannon. He was trying to determine if there were any defensive troops positioned to protect them. All he could see was the infantry in out in front fighting.


SGT.BLOOMFIELD:

Through the din and clash of battle, the Free Company men heard the drums and horns of the Venetians.

Bloomfield didn't know whether Captain had drawn his conclusions from Bloomfield's message, or if the Venetian colonel had simply grown tired of taking the punishment without a chance to reply. But here was the fact: The Venetians were advancing, squeezing their battalions on the right into the narrow valley and into the flank of Turkish infantry. Since the Turkish were enganged in melee with the Free Company, this would give them the choice of either conceding the left (looking in the direction of the Turkish) to the Venetians and risk being outflanked, or disengaging from the Free Company and suffer their arquebusier fusilade as they drew back toward their Turkish culverins. The Free Company was doing well, suffering comparatively little and if the Turkish did retreat, Bloomfield would advance rather then have the blasted Venetians between the Company and the Turks.

If only I could see what their reserves are doing! Bloomfield cursed. Ah, but here comes one of Captain's aides with a message...


LORD DURHAM:

Crisis

The first round of Turkish shot fell somewhat short of Warspite's cavalry and the Venetian infantry. The Turkish engineers had not compensated enough for the slope. Those few cannonballs that did not impact into the side of the hill bounced forward but caused very little damage to the Venetian lines. I was sure the artillery commanders would compensate for the next round.

I saw Captain looking over to the Venetians. He was probably concerned his allies might waver now they knew the guns were aimed in their direction. It didn't make matters easier knowing the dreaded Spahis cavalry faced them too.

I said, "Why does the Turk concentrate his fire on the Venetians? Their position is better than ours."

Captain looked to Forster, then to me. "This Turkish general is a crafty one I warrant. He uses his Sekbans to tie us down in the centre and launches his irregulars against Storey on our right to tie him down. I think when the time is right he will unleash his Spahis to try and dislodge the Venetians with arrows. If he succeeds then his cavalry will have the slope and our flank."

Forster took a hard look, "It appears Warspite has our message. I just hope the act of him pulling back doesn't spook the Venetians."

Captain nodded, "If Colonel Melo is any good it should be little problem."

I offered, "Colonel Melo is an appointed noble. His men are citizens of Venice. They are on foreign soil..."

Captain stared me down and said, "Shouldn't you be writing or something?"

I turned my horse away. Behind me I heard Forster say, "He's right, you know." I halted several paces away and watched Lieutenant Bloomfield pull his men back, suckering the Turks into a three-sided trap. Two can play the crafty game, I thought to myself.

Storey's men had taken up positions among the rocky slopes. The Turkish irregular cavalry was forced to dismount and pick their way towards the Company's right wing. Once again our culverins fired into the approaching irregulars.

Suddenly there was a huge din of sound from the Venetian wing. I turned in my horse to look and saw them advancing at a right oblique towards the Sekban flank. The had obviously decided not to wait for another round of cannon fire. I looked to Captain to gage his reaction. It wasn't pleasant. I trotted over as Forster went past me. "Where's Forster going?" I asked.

Captain mumbled, "He wants a better look at the enemy cannon." He paused then cursed. "Those Venetians are exposing their flank!"

I pointed towards the Turkish lines. "I think their general has noticed too."

The Spahis were on the move. They began to advance in a slow trot towards the marching Venetians, drawing their bows in preparation.

Captain shouted, "Get a message to Bloomfield and the other Lieutenants. They must hold at all costs. Expect arrows. Tell the reserve to move up behind the left flank. They may have to protect us if the Venetians break!" He turned on another messenger. "Go get Forster!"


LIONHEART:

This was too easy, thought De Lyon. The Turks are throwing forces on us and we simply hack at the freely. It was almost as if he had nothing to command: the position was so natural for the Company pikemen. One simple thrust and swipe and then a step back to draw the Sekban infantry on to yet more destruction.

As Lt. Bloomfield yelled oreds out these were quickly relayed to the troops by the Sergeants. The battle was already in full swing but De Lyon sensed that things were all getting too easy: he had learned his lesson from Burevic. So far in the battle a few men had fallen but had been dragged back by the arquebusiers into friendly lines. Apart from these small losses, the rest of the battalion were holdiong formation remarkably and moved on command almost on instinct.

Far too the left he could see that the Venetians were not yielding while the company were continually drawing the Turking infantry into the trap. A group to the right had already fallen apart and were apparently leaderless; they would be routed be the right flank, no doubt.

De Lyon needed to Bloomfield to know that now was the time to push forward and crush the Sekban. The gap created by the company had already pulled them in far enough and their lines were fragile. A strike now and they would be defeated.

Glancing over the clouds of dust, he saw no sign of the Turkish infantry on the hills to the right. Let's hope the cavalry have their eye out for them,


STOREY:

Storey sat patiently watching the Venetian and Turkish infantry butting heads in the valley. The forward elements of his command were firing into the mass of Turkish irregulars below them. The damage they were doing was minimal but it was something. He glanced back toward the Captain and noticed that Lt. Forester was moving off.
"What is he up to?"

Something buzzed by his ear and a man behind him yelled as he fell to the ground. A quick look showed it to be a flesh wound.

"Get up Herzog it's nothing to get excited about. Christ the way you hollered you would have thought your balls had been shot off."

A few chuckles was all the time they had before the Turkish irregulars below started making an attempt to come up the hill. Things were finally staring to heat up.

Using whatever cover they could find the men farthest down the slope started moving back up the hill. Those behind them fired a volley into the Turks with better affect than before. The irregulars didn't seem to be too eager in climbing the hill while being fired upon but their officers were yelling from behind them and their troops seemed to fear them more than us so on they came if a little more slowly. Storey glanced toward the rear of the enemy forces and still wasn't sure what the Turkish reserves were doing. They hadn't been committed yet which showed their commander was not a novice. Damn things were heating up faster than he liked. Why the hell did the Venetian commander have to move his troops forward?


LORD DURHAM:

Mehmed Farraq was a proud man. His family had great wealth and his position of standing in the Spahis was important and full of respect. He had earned that respect over many years of warfare for his Sultan.

With those years of combat came infinite patience. The Spahis waited with their mounts as they watched their poorly trained brothers on the left flank make their way up the rocky hill towards the sparse defenders that awaited them. He laughed when the Irregulars were forced to dismount and continue. It was part of the General's plan to tie down that flank. The General saw that flank as unimportant.

To the right flank he saw another wing of cavalry flinching under the opening rounds of cannon fire. They too were no match for the Spahis he reasoned. They were too few. The Venetians beside them were impressively arrayed, but the opening round of shot had sent a ripple through them that told old Mehmed they were poorly trained at best.

The centre was different. The General had sent the Sekbans, the peasant infantry, against them as a further annoyance, but these soldiers stood firm and fought well. They fought very well in fact. Even now elements of the Sekbans were beginning to break.

As Mehmed pondered what his General would do next the Venetians suddenly began to move down the hill in an oblique movement towards the Sekban right flank. He noted that the cavalry on that wing were pulling back over the hill. Were they retreating or was it a ruse? A trap?

Suddenly horns blared a signal and his commanders raced along their lines. They were to string bows and prepare to flank the descending Venetians. Mehmed grinned in anticipation. He would add to his honour today.

As he strung his bow and mounted his horse a ripple of sound went through the ranks of men. It started with the horse soldiers closer to the action and made it's way to him. It was just two word's. But those two words sent a chill down his spine. They required no translation. He heard the man beside him repeat the words.

"Free Company."


SGT.BLOOMFIELD:

Bloomfield hesitated. He could probably push forward now, the Sekbans looked thin and tired. But he did not now about the Turkish reserves. And what about Captain's message that he must hold at all cost? That did not sound too reassuring.

And suddenly Bloomfield felt the weight of his command for the first time. He saw De Lyon glancing at him, expecting decision. But no decision came to Bloomfield. Baptism by fire, Captain had said when he made him Lieutenant.

Bloomfield took a deep breath. "Well," he said to himself, "if it's to be a baptism by fire, then let us burn!"

"ADVANCE" he called out. "IN SQUARE, REGIMENT ADVANCE"

The call was taken up by the sergeants and the drummers changed the beat. It felt as if a wall of flesh and blood and anger began to move. Bloomfield glanced one more time to the left at the Venetians in their exposed position. Then he pushed his way forward through the ranks. He gripped his sabre harder. Now he needed to be where the fire burned hottest.


LORD DURHAM:

Crisis to Blunder

Colonel Melo was confident. True, the opening cannon volleys had shaken him and caused a stir in his men, but he put that down to nerves. He hadn't noticed the messenger race through his lines to the Company cavalry that guarded his extreme left flank, but he did notice when those 400 horse began to retreat away behind his lines.

"What cowardice is this?" he exclaimed. His officers all looked at him in question. At that moment another messenger appeared and handed him a note. He opened it and read the contents. He read them again then dropped the note and looked back in the direction of the Free Company Captain.

"What nonsense is this?" he said again to himself. His men wondered about him. Finally he said, "The Captain has ordered his horse back to the rear. He wants us to extend our lines to cover the vacated wing."

There was sharp indignation. They were all noble born or elected. Why should a Colonel take orders from a mere Captain?

One of the officers said, "Look! The Turkish infantry is breaking. Their flank is exposed! I say we attack and roll them all the way back to Thrace!"

The officers all grumbled agreement. Colonel Melo caught their fire and ordered the advance. Soon 4500 Venetian infantry were stumbling down the steep slope in an angle that would take them into the Sekban flank. Unfortunately they failed to notice their own left flank become dangerously exposed. Minutes later the first wave of Saphis cavalry came storming up the slope on the vacated wing, loosing a rain of pointed death down on the exposed Venetians.


LORD DURHAM:

Decision Time

Forster rode up staring at the field of battle. Christ on a stick! He couldn't go scout something for a few moments without having all hell break loose. He said to Captain, "What in God's name are the Venetians doing? What in God's name is Bloomfield doing?"

Captain, as it turned out, had answers for both. "The Venetians have put us in grave danger and Lieutenant Bloomfield, whether he knows it or not, is helping us out."

"How? By charging into the enemy?" He stood in his stirrups at the sudden dust cloud over on the far left wing. "Dear God! The Spahis! They're flanking the Venetians!"

Captain smiled grimly. This wasn't the first tight situation they had been in, and it probably wouldn't be the last, God willing. "Clerk! Message! Tell De La Croix to pull out and double quick up to Storey's position. His men should be able to hold off the Turkish Irregulars."

I scribbled the message and handed it off.

Captain said to Forster. "When Storey gets here grab Warspite's men and circle left around the Venetians. You have to surprise the Spahis. Hopefully you will have momentum on your side. You have to break them before the Venetians break!"

Forster just stared. Finally, "That could be suicide, Captain."

Captain glared back, "If the Venetians break before you get there then we're all dead anyway!"

Forster wiped his forehead. Time for another miracle. "And Bloomfield? How is he helping us?"

Captain pointed, "The Sekbans are beaten and exhausted. Look how they break. Bloomfield is trying to clear the field of them so we can regroup. At the same time he's putting himself between the Turksish infantry and the Venetians so our gallant allies will rout in the right direction. If they rout at all." Captain paused to watch for a few moments. "With or without the Venetians we still have to fight the Turks. When Bloomfield pursues far enough he'll return. Not even he would be crazy enough to charge into the Janissary reserve."

Forster said quietly, "Are you sure?"

Captain mumbled, "If he does he'll either be a hero or I'll have his codpiece."


FORSTER:

The Lt sat on his horse waiting for Storey to get to the top of the hill. He had seen Warspite looking back towards his position. Now he could would see if his ideas would work. He had his bugler sound a calvary recall, one that his men had been using during training. He noted with a smile, as Warspite started shouting and waiving in the distance. Soon he would have his eight hundred together, would it be soon enough. He new the reverse slope was not too steep and the terrain on that side was conducive to rapid movement.
He said a little prayer, hoping that the withdrawal of his men would not cause a panic among the allies, he already knew it wouldn't bother the Free Company.
He sat and waited. Storey's men took longest, because they were dismounted and they had to negotiate some very rough terrain. Once Storey had his men one the hill he told Warspite and Storey what they had to do.

The cavalry would make a sweep around the reverse side of the hill and come back into the valley from the direction the Turks had come. Fournier was given 30 men and told to peal off as they approached the Turkish cannon, he was to stop their firing any way he could. The Lt was sure he could handle it, and he didn't want to lose any of his sergeants or corporals when they would be needed when they hit the
Spahids. They would be moving at a fast trot once they hit the level ground. He didn't want to exhaust the horses before they got to the fight.

Once he was sure the sergeants and corporals knew what they had to do, they mounted and proceded to move down the hill. Lt Forster gave the Captain a quick salute as he went past. Then they were gone from sight and on the way.


FORSTER:

We came around the east end of the hill and could only see smoke and dust in the valley ahead of us. Lt Forster gave the signal, and Warspite brought his men on line, and then Storey behind him. It looked as if the Jannissaries had been committed,as the Lt could not distinguish them as being separate from the battle. The Spahids were terrorizing the Venetians.

Lt Forster gave the signal to Fournier to break off for the guns. As they reached the point, the LT gave the sigal and the charge of the eight hundred began. Onward into the valley of death rode the eight hundred.



SGT.BLOOMFIELD:

In the last 15 minutes, Colonel Melo's confidence had evaporated. As soon as the Spahis appeard on the slope of the hill above him, rather than in front of him and below, he understood the message that the Papal Captain had sent. The Spahis would ride close on their well-trained horses, fire their deadly bows and wheel away from his flank. Even if Colonel would have dared to break his formation to get at the horsemen, his men would have no chance struggling up the hill side. They would be easy victims for lance and sword.

He looked around. His men were suffering. He and his officers may be disciplined, but he new that half his troopes were green and would not stand this long. If they broke....

Colonel Melo shouted orders for his regiments to edge further down the hill, away from the hilltop over which the Spahis appeared and disappeared. The tighter formation would be better for morale, and the men would be closer to the disciplined Papal mercenaries. And it would make things harder for the Turkish horsemen who would have to ride further down the hill to bring the Venetian with in range, and then would have to struggle up the hillside to reload and regroup.

As the Colonel glanced at his company's evolutions, he noticed that one of the Papal regiments was advancing, pushing into the Sekban infantry. He pointed it out to his officers, and word soon flew around the Venetian infantry that the Papals were charging the enemy. Colonel Melo barked a quick series of orders that would bring his one of his regiments down into the valley, and bring his foremost and most exposed regiment back, in line with the advancing Papals. And through the shouts of the sergeants, he rode to his front line men: "Hold, men!" he called, "the Papals have taken our example of courage and advance! The day will be ours!"

His men gave a ragged cheer. If only they believe me, Colonel Melo thought, we have a chance. But I do not believe it myself unless I see the Papal cavalry clear our flank...

He was startled from his thought by his staff Lieutenant who had ridden up to him. "Signore," the Lieutenant said, "The Turkish have committed their reserve to the center. It is the Janissari."

 

[Lord Durham]

The Fifth Chronicle of the Free Company


The Second Infidel Wars: 1579 - 1588: Part Seven

LIONHEART:

Word was also spreading through the ranks of the company infantry. As the Sekban troops were crumbling, the far right Company regiment were falling on their exposed flank. Those at the extreme right could make out the unmistakeable signs of movement from the turkish reserves.

A ripple went through the company: "The Janissaries!". It was not long before Pierre de Lyon got wind of the rumour. Those damned Djeni-Cheri again. This is going to get even more interesting. But at least all my boys know of them from experience now. Our lads will be out for revenge so our first problem will be to maintain the discipline.

The Sekban forces were starting to falter. They had been totally outnumbered, outmanouevred, outgunned and outclassed. The sergeants had little work to do in ordering the men. They knew this part of the job instinctively. De Lyon had plenty of chances to look at how events were unfolding around him. Hell, where are the cavalry on the right? Turkish irregulars or not, if we have the Djeni-Cheri to deal with I don't like the sound of doing this with our flank exposed.


STOREY:

Acting Sergeant Storey brought his men on line behind Warspite's men. They started forward at a trot being so close because of the narrowness of this part of the valley that they were riding practically stirrup to stirrup. This was when your nerves were the worst. He knew that once the fighting started things would be moving to fast to get scared but right now he thought he knew how his father felt when on a ship. He then heard Lt. Forster yell. "CHARGE"


LORD DURHAM:

General Bahman Ud Din

General Bahman Ud Din was perplexed.

On the one hand his cavalry was causing major damage to the foolhardy Venetians and their mad dash for glory against an already routing infantry. He watched with satisfaction as his Spahis approached, fired and wheeled away only to be replaced by yet another wave of his famed cavalry. It was poetry in motion.

On the other hand, the fact his Sekban's had been so easily routed by the barbaric centre gave him cause for alarm. He too had heard the murmurs of 'Free Company' from his men. Could this truly be them? Stories of their ferocity abounded. They were bloodless killers that ate their enemies some stories went. Other stories told of how they would cut off the genitals of the vanquished as grisly prizes.

The General took a deep breath. Perhaps these were stories to crush the morale of their enemies. Perhaps not. He did know his men were becoming restless and fearful. He would have to do something decisive and salvage the centre.

With a raise of his arm he ordered in the Janissaries. A roll of drums and blast of horns sent the elite of Turkey lunging forth like a rolling wave of death towards the centre of the barbarian's lines. Now we would see how they stood against the best in Turkey, he thought.

As an afterthought he looked to his far left and the Irregular cavalry. If only he knew what was happening up there.


LORD DURHAM:

Extreme Right Wing - Before the Charge

De La Croix was desperately out of breath. His men had to pull out of line on the Company left flank and quick march behind lines to the right flank and relieve Storey's cavalry. The last 50 yards had been extremely tough as they had to work their way uphill over broken ground.

De La Croix, being the old veteran he was, had ordered his men to keep their pikes low. He didn't want to tip off the enemy to their movements by presenting a high profile. As green as his men were, they were drilled well enough to carry off the maneuver with little trouble.

As they filtered their way through Storey's men the acting Sergeant looked with alarm at the aging Lieutenant. "Sir. You look pale. Take some water. Sit down."

De La Croix took the water but refused to sit. He handed the container back to Storey, "Thanks. I'll be fine. Just a little winded. You get to Forster, lad. I'll take things from here."

Storey regarded the man silently for a few moments then nodded. He led his horse down the slope, joining his waiting command.


De La Croix turned to the flank and saw his men engaged with the Turkish Irregulars. Their insertion had been so seamless that the Turks had gained very little ground in the exchange. Walking with a purpose towards the rear of the lines De La Croix shouted, "Have at it lads! Show the bastards how the Free Company fights!"


FORSTER:

Lt Forster knew they had a problem. They could not get to the Spahis, it would mean charging up a slope, which they could do, but the main problem was that between his men and the Spahis were the cream of the Turkish fighting machine, the Janissaries. He made a snap decision, if the Janissaries broke, the Spahis would not matter, the Turks would run with their tails between their legs.
He gave the signal to charge into the back of the Janissary line. Sabers drawn, eight hundred men hit the line at full charge. The Janissaries had not seen them coming.


SGT.BLOOMFIELD:

Bloomfield fell back from the front line of the charging pikemen, his bloody sabre heavy in his hand. He looked around.

His battalion had come far down into the valley. The Sekbans were routed and had started to turn and flee. "HALT," Bloomfield shouted. His men needed a rest. Also, on his left, the Venetians had come into motion and had formed a decent battle line, one of their battalions now abreast with his. The other Venetian battalions were flooding off the hillside, away from the Turkish Spahis. "Sergeants, make sure the men drink some water!"

Bloomfield shielded his eyes and looked ahead, south into valley. On his right, the hills sloped closer and closer, but on the left the hill receded. If they advanced, the numerous Venetians would have room to defend themselves against the cavalry and to advance in good battle formation. But should they advance?

Taking his own canteen and drinking from it, Bloomfield looked ahead. About half the Sekbans had broken before his lines and were now in a rout. Several regiments, or what the bloody Turkish had in their place, were retreating in order, however. It was hard to make out in the dust, but on the left of the center, the Sekbans were actually advancing again!

But the Sekbans were in retreat: What Bloomfield saw were the Janissari in their pale green uniforms, halberds and scimitars blinking in the westering sun. They were pushing up the valley at a brisk march. Bloomfield realized who they were. He glanced back to the other Free Company regiments: De La Croix was taking his regiment up the hillside on the right, but the other units were holding back, on the high ground in their strong, shielded position. Bloomfield and the bloody Venetian regiment were exposed, like the head of a turtle sticking out of the shell. Only to be chopped off by the cavalry or the Janissari, Bloomfield thought grimly.

He called his sergeants to him. "Do you see the advancing Turkish troops? That is the Turkish reserve, the Janissari. And see how the Sekbans are reforming behind the Janissari regiments? They are going to come for us again. We will let the men rest for two more minutes and then we will retreat to our original position. Let the bloody Turks come! Do you understand?"

There was a murmur of consent. They all understood how precarious their positition was. Then Nalivayko called out: "Sir! Look on the extreme left! Do you notice that dust rising from behind the hill?"

They all stared. "That's cavalry!" exclaimed Rictus, "more Spahis?"
But then they saw the standard as the eight hundred streamed down into the valley of death toward the flank of the advancing Janissari.

"My God! Thats our lads! They're charging the Janissari! That's madness!"

Bloomfield needed no time to make up his mind this time: "Sergeants, return to your regiments, quick. We will advance. Two salvos of the arquebusiers when we get there, then a charge with the pikes. Zagloba, if you can manage, you may organize a flanking fusilage with the arquies once we are in melee. Now run!"

If they advanced now they would distract Janissari and prevent them from facing the charging cavalry. And probably the Sekbans would break if they saw the Janissari hard set to. Hopefully they would, or it would be a hotter fire down in that valley than he cared for. Bloomfield raised his battle-proven voice: "FREE COMPANY MEN! READY! ADVANCE!"

Into the valley of death strode the five hundred.


FORSTER:

The cavalry hit the Janissaries at full charge. As skilled as they were, a man is no match for a steed with a rider slashing at anything sticking up from the ground on top. The charge took the men almost a third of the way into the Turk formation. Many Turks went down to under the hooves, and almost as many to the slashing sabers. Lt Forster was in front, surrounded by the Janissaries. Everywhere you looked, the men were hacking and slashing.

Finally the Janissary commander realized what was happening. He ordered his men into a square, hoping that the center of it would be able to take out the men on horse. It wasn't to be. This was a much better unit than was faced at Burevic, Lt Forster could see out of peripheral vision he was losing men, a lot of men. The odds so far were in his favor, they had killed or maimed so many at the outset.
The carnage was so bad, the Sekbans broke again, this time the Turkish commander could not stem the flight.

Just about that time, LT Forster heard what sounded like Sgt Bloomfield yelling orders at the top of his lungs.


SGT.BLOOMFIELD:

"HALT! ARQUEBUSIERS ADVANCE! PRIME YOUR GUNS! READY!" Bloomfield waited for the Free Company Cavalry to disengage. The Janissari started straightening and reforming. "FIRE"

All they could hear were screams mingled in the echo of the arquebuses' crack.

"SECOND LINE ADVANCE. READY! FIRE!" More death poured into the Janissari. But these were elite troops. We have to be quick, hellfire quick to get them with their pants down, Bloomfield thought as he shouted new orders.

"ARQUEBUSIERS BACK! PIKEMEN ADVANCE! PIKES LOW. STEADY! CHARGE!"

Against his inclination, Lt. Bloomfield held back and let the men march past him. He grabbed Sgt. Rictus around the shoulder and leaned over to yell in his ear over the din of battle. "Rictus, my lad, you've had plenty of glory at Burevic. I want you to take your regiment and all the arquebusiers. Turn them around and cover our asses! In a few minutes we are going to have thousands of bloody Turkish cavalry in the valley between us and the main body of our infantry. You see?"

Already the Turkish irregulars were beginning to mill down the western hill into the valley. The Spahis were nowhere to be seen.

"Pikes braced, Arquies in two ranks behind them?" Sgt Rictus asked. Bloomfield slapped him on the back in consent and hastened toward the fighting.

Captain will have my cod piece if I make a cock of this one, Bloomfield thought. It was going to be touch and go: They must break the Jannissari, who still outnumbered Bloomfield's Battalion, but they must not advance any further. They must stay with Rictus' men or be killed by the enemy cavalry. If only Captain could advance the rest of the Free Company, or even the Venetians, to fill the valley.

Bloomfield glanced back and then looked around him. He could see nothing but sweating backs, glittering steal and brown dust that rose high and engulfed the fighting men, sealing them off from the Company, from light, and from the future. The present remained like a little island that was filled with screams, clashing blades and death.


RICTUS:

Rictus glanced longingly over his shoulder, where the last of Bloomfields men had engaged the Janissaries in a whirlstorm of fighting. He could see now, the cavalry utterly surrounded and being hacked to pieces by the well ordered Turkish ranks, even as he watched one man was pulled from the saddle, his horse speared in the belly.

But he had his own fight, he wished De Lyon, Zagloba, Barkdreg, Navilkyo, Bloomfield and everyone else the best of luck and hoped he would see them again that evening. It wouldn't be the same without them.

THe first of the irregulars were now forming up into their own squares and formations, commanded, as they were, by the last of their officers. Who ever was picking them off, was doing a fine piece of work. Behind, the cresendo of war reached a higher pitch, and in front two hundred hastily arranged troops began marching determinedly his way. All they saw was seventy tired men in their path to a crushing victory.

"Okay" Rictus called out easily, "all there is between those heathens and the backs of our friends there" he jerked his head towards the rest of the embroiled Free Company "is us. Now, they may outnumber us, but they're Turkish irregulars and will break at the first sign of resistance, so all I ask is you take one head each and DON'T BREAK FORMATION!" Pikes were readied as the heathens closed in. "Arqebuses; FIRE!"

The whip and crack of the guns going off sounded pitiful against the larger sound of fighting behind them, but dutifully and obidenantly, several Turks keeled over.

"FIRE!"

Still more.

"FIRE!"

And then another, but equally important battle was joined.


LORD DURHAM:

De La Croix was breathing hard. His vision swam before him. Through blurred eyes he could see the Turkish Irregulars retreating downhill away from his men. Some had reached their mounts and were forming up into a wedge.

He grabbed a sergeant, "Cameron! Tell me what's happening down there."

The sergeant looked at him with concern, but his discipline took over, "It looks like a battalion of the Company has advanced and engaged the Janissaries. Our cavalry has hit them in the rear." He squinted, "It's hard to see through all the dust, sir, but it looks like a good portion of the Turks have fled the field."

There was a sound of horns. De La Croix said, "That's the signal to advance."

Sergeant Cameron agreed, "Aye sir. The Company is advancing in support of... it looks like it's Bloomfield's battalion that has engaged the Turk."

"And what of our flank Sergeant? Why are the Turks reforming downhill?"

Cameron squinted again. It took a few moments to piece together in his mind what was happening. Suddenly he seemed to understand, "Bloomfield's men are exposed on their right flank. I think the Irregulars are going to attack. I see a single regiment of Company men peeling off to meet them!"

De La Croix roared, "That won't do! Have the men pursue! Drop the pikes! Use swords! We must disrupt the enemy as much as possible!"

Cameron ran off and began shouting orders. The men quickly obeyed, happy to be divested of their unwieldy pikes.

De La Croix watched as the mercenaries ran screaming down the hill, catching the slower Turks and slashing away indiscriminately. Others continued their mad dash towards the forming cavalry. They wouldn't be in time to halt the charge but they would certainly disrupt it. Pulling his sword he waved it over his head. He took two steps and then the earth was rushing up to meet him. It was the last thing he remembered.


FORSTER:

Lt Forster glanced around, he had been wounded in his side, leg and shoulder. It was getting very hard to swing his saber. The Turks had gotten smart and were hacking at the legs of the horses to drop the riders. It looked as if he had lost over half of his men. The one small bright spot in the back of his mind was he did not hear any cannon fire coming from the Turks. With that thought his horse dropped out from under him.
The battle was so thick, he literally landed standing. So, it's back to being infantry.
That was the last anyone say of the Lt. He dropped out of sight of his men. None could maneuver over to help him. Warspite had rallied his men, and were hacking away. Bloomfields arquebuesiers were raking the Janissaries with volley after volley. Finally the Janissaries could take it no more. They were down to less than a third of their start number. First a few just dropped their weapons, then a few more, some began to run. Then it was like a dam breaking. The stream became a flood as men threw down their weapons and ran.
Warspite held his men back, there were other fish to fry, and he was not sure what had happened to the Spahis. He looked out over the remaining cavalry, from what he could see they had lost close to 3/4 of the men. Lt Forster was nowhere to be seen.


RICTUS:

While Bloomfield and Forster had finally routed the Janisarries, Rictus still fought hard against the irregulars, who, sensing that this small obstacle in their path was weakening, was baring down increasing hard on the now surrounded square. By now, halberds had been largely abondoned, their weight and length making it impossible to use at such close quarters.
Now swords were being brought up and down with sickening efficentcy, though in time this slowed down too, as people become too tired to lift a sword, at this point, knifes came into play, slashing tendons and opening up arteries.

It was a very bloody affair.

And yet, they were losing. For every heathen that dropped, a new, fresh recruit stepped into place, Rictus wished he could do the same thing. A third of his command had been crippled or killed in this desperate holding action.

Fighting erupted to Rictus' right and behind, renewed fighting. Reinforcements had arrived and the last of the Turks were being brushed away now. He and the last of his troops used their last vestiges of strength now, and with the feocity of trapped men, megan forcing their way out.

Thank God for De La Croix, he thought, recognising one of the mans sergeants. They nodded curtly to each other across the miniture battlefield and went about the grisly task of butchering the last of the Turks who had stayed. The majority, including some still yet uncommitted, were forming up again several hundred metres away.

Not again.

 

[Lord Durham]

The Fifth Chronicle of the Free Company


The Second Infidel Wars: 1579 - 1588: Conclusion


LORD DURHAM:

General Bahman Ud Din's Disgrace

General Bahman Ud Din shook his head in disbelief. His Janissaries. Routed! By barbarians! His Sekbans were long gone and the Irregulars had broken against the cursed 'Company'. The horse was gathering further down the wing, but it was obvious the fight had gone out of them. As for the Spahis, only they were enjoying any success against the revitalized Venetians.

But it was not enough.

The remainder of the Company battalions were marching steadily across the field, and these men were fresh. General Bahman Ud Din knew when he was beaten. It was his officers of course. They would be punished for their failure, as no doubt he would have to answer to a higher authority.

With reluctance he gave the signal for a general retreat. At least he knew he would not be harried. The enemy had very little cavalry left, and that was virtually all he had. Perhaps in a day or two when they had recovered he would lead his men back and conduct hit and run attacks against these barbarians. Yes. That was a very good idea.

As he turned his horse to leave the General felt a sudden pain in his shoulder. He looked in puzzlement to see a crossbow bolt embedded deep in the area between his arm and chest. He glanced up towards the rocky hillside to see a solitary figure in the distance jumping up and down in celebration. 'Who in Allah's name is that?' he wondered before shock over took him and he slid from the saddle.

Any thoughts of an ordered retreat vanished.


SGT.BLOOMFIELD:

The hardest thing was restraining the men. The Janissari were broken and their retreat was bordering on a rout. But Bloomfield must stop his men: he could tell that they were in a frenzy of fatique and killing.

"HALT. ABOUT FACE! MARCH!"

It was only 30 paces to where Sgt Rictus had set up his rear guard and Bloomfield soon closed the gap. Even before he could call out his orders, his sergeants had started forming the battallion into a bristling square of pikes with Arquebusiers in a second row. It was too much for the Turks. The large unit of cavalry that were reforming on the western hill reigned in their steeds, hesitated for a moment and then ceded the field to the Infantry that was marching down into the valley from the north.

On the eastern hill side, the Spahis seemed to lose interest in harrassing the Venetians Company against whom they had no chance now that the Turkish reserve was in a rout.

It was as if a blanket was slowly lifted. Elliot Bloomfield stood in the center of the tight formation, his weary men drenched in sweat and blood, and together they watched the Turkish calvalry thunder past them on either side. The ground shook their hearts pounded.

It was over.

Bloomfield walked slowly over to Sgt Rictus. Rictus' face was spattered in blood. Bloomfield put his hand on the younger man's shoulder. "Good work, Sergeant! I knew I can rely on you. You showed the bastards."

The Turkish were gone. The men were starting to loot the dead bodies. Bloomfield left his sergeants in command and walked up the western hill.


FORSTER:

Young Fournier had split off with his 30 men. The Lt had told him to sweep around to the rear of the guns, the roll in, trying to kill as many gunners and assistants as they could in the first pass. He said the idea was to cause such an uproar that whoever was left would be trying to be anywhere but where they were. Once he had captured the guns, he was to hold them until relieved. If it looked like they were going to be recaptured take ropes and pull them over, off of their lorries. Also, set a wick on the powder if it looks like you will lose them.

In they rode, full charge, right through the line of guns. The gunners were totally surprised, and most were killed and maimed in the first pass. Fournier wheeled them about and they went back for the second pass. On the third pass, they stopped at the guns and proceded to attack anything that moved. Fournier couldn't help but wonder, don't the Turks ever guard their cannon?

They had a dozen prisoners, Fournier had his men use them to stack up all the kegs of powder between the middle two guns. Then he waited. He half expected to see a whole regiment of Janissaries come marching at him. He could see the battle if front of him, and marvelled at the sight of his unit smack dab in the middle of a Janissary square.
He watched as man after man dropped. He did not know if they could survive the maelstrom they had created. Then it happened, the LT went down. No one was near him.

The next thing he heard,before he saw, was the firing of the arquebusiers. Bloomfields unit was nailing the flank of the Janissaries. All this time he watched and waited. No one came to challenge his possession of the guns. Finally, the Janissary unit broke, followed by the Sebkans and the irregulars. He saw the Spahis, but could not tell what they were doing. It looked as if they were still attacking the Venetians.

The retreating Turks were running past his position, but not over it. So he stayed and watched. Ready to light the wick if necessary.


LIONHEART:

"Weird eh?", De Lyon said to Bloomfield as he started to wander off to the west

"What, do mean?" said Bloomfield. "That the Free Company held their own aqainst the Turks again?"

"No", responded De Lyon. "The Janissaries: they ran. Here we are on an open battlefield against a thousand of them and they just break. In Burevic, you'll recall not one of them ran, not one! Even when outnumbered ten to one in battle, they continued to fight"

"Could have been Forster's mad charge into the centre that started it" suggested Bloomfield impatiently wishing to go elsewhere.

"Mad, bloody crazy if you ask me" said De Lyon. "Seems like we gained a few cannon but lost most of our cavalry now. What's to happen when the Spahis return?"

"Don't ask me" Bloomfield retorted. "I have the same concern myself and was about to talk to Captain about it if you'll let me go"

"Of course, you do", resigned De Lyon, "business to attend to". De Lyon watched the new Lieutenant wander off. Damn it if he can't make the move from Sergeant to Lieutenant. The job of running the the battalions fell to the sergeants not the lieutenants. Controlling 500 men was different from looking after 50! As for Argael, where had he got to? Sgt Zagloga had been holding the whole battlion while his opposite number had disappeared.

Sgt Rictus was in the vicinity looking battle-worn. De Lyon walked up to him. "Looks like you've been in the wars?"

"Cut the crap de Lyon you pompous bastard", answered Sgt Rictus: he was in no mood for sarcastic remarks at this time. "You didn't have to hold off over a thousands Turks with just a few arques"

"Just as well Campbell's regiment was there on hand to help" said De Lyon, "otherwise they'd have run through the lot of you and onto our backs while we were fighting the big boys"

"Yeah, alright", said Rictus. "How many men do we have left standing?"

"Bloody lucky if you ask me", answered De Lyon. "From the look of you guys there, I'd guess we've lost half of the Arquies but the pikemen seem to have come out well. The Sekban hardly grazed us although the Janissaries were a different proposition. Misha's boys, though, are pretty hard stuff and I think we'll still be able to count on three quarters of them to take the field when the Turks return"

"It is a shame though don't you think?" said Rictus

"A shame?" questioned De Lyon

"In the middle of this God damn country and not a bar in sight!" said Rictus. "Where's a man to get his respite from his days work?"


SGT.BLOOMFIELD:

Bloomfield walked up the western hill, up the slope that the Turkish Irregulars had ridden down to swarm in between his battalion and the main body of allied infantry. This was the way they had come, down into Rictus' regiment. Bloomfield bit his lip. He should not have left that youngster there, with only one regiment. He should have stayed himself. Bloomfield couldn't shake the feeling that he had been foolhardy, that he had put others at too great a risk. If only he could wash the blood and sweat and grime off his aching body.

He had told De Lyon that he was going to speak to Captain, but in reality, Bloomfield was walking away. Away from the men, from the dead, away from reek of the battlefield. Away from sergeants and away from Captain. They had won the day. What was it that he wished to be far away from it all, alone and lost?

Bloomfield turned and saw all the work that was going on down in the valley: They were heaping the dead, securing the guns, fetching water, attending to the wounded and counting the fallen. With heavy limbs, Bloomfield continued walking up the slope.

He was passing dead bodies and horses now, trampled grass and broken bushes. The sun was reaching low in the west and the shadows were swallowing the valley below him. And as he walked he saw De La Croix.

Gently Bloomfield turned the body over and saw the empty, cold eyes. Here was the man whose command he now held, the veteran of many campaigns. Bloomfield had seen more friends and comrades dead than he could count, and had he ever been close to De La Croix? But as Bloomfield straightend, straining with the weight of the fallen lieutenant, tears began to flow from his eyes. And bearing De La Croix' limp body, blinking through his tears, Bloomfield turned to walk up the hill, away from the valley of death.


LORD DURHAM:

Sometime later Captain and I picked our way slowly through the battlefield, letting ours horses lead us. When it had become clear the victory was ours most of the men simply dropped where they stood and scrambled for their water sacks. After long moments of regaining composure and letting the battle lust fade many began to loot the enemy dead and look for missing comrades. Many of the Turkish fallen were still alive and these were either dispatched with a knife thrust or trussed up for possible ransom if found to be noble born.

Captain halted when an exhausted Bloomfield staggered up to him bearing the body of Lieutenant De La Croix. He cracked a weak smile through a dust and blood encrusted face streaked with tears. "Orders sir?" he croaked, then collapsed heavily to the ground under the burden he carried.

I dismounted and moved the body away from the Lieutenant, then helped Bloomfield sit up, handing him a water skin. He took it and upended the sack. "Slowly," I said. "You don't want cramps."

Bloomfield wiped his mouth with the back of his hand leaving a streaky smear across his face.

Captain stared for a long time at the body of De La Croix. Finally he said, "I've a mind to shoot you, Lieutenant. That is either the bravest or the most foolhardy thing I have ever seen."

"Can I pick one Captain?"

"Aye. Pick one. Then see to your men. I doubt the Turk will return but we can not be too sure, can we?"

Bloomfield made to stand, then sat back down heavily, "My legs don't work Captain."

De Lyon and Rictus wandered up, both men dragging their halberds and eyeing Bloomfield warily. Finally Rictus pointed at the seated Lieutenant, "Captain, that man tried to get us all killed. I think we should shoot him."

Captain stroked his chin, "We've already had that discussion."

Bloomfield groaned. By this time a group of people had gathered about Captain and either leaned on their weapons or sprawled on the ground. Barkdreg and Nalivayko just grinned at each other. No doubt they would compare kill ratios later.

De Lyon said, "The Janissaries ran this time Captain. It doesn't make sense."

Captain raised an eyebrow, "No? They were decisively beaten. I think they were following orders Sergeant. A good general knows when to retreat."

I couldn't help but jerk my head over to the Venetians, "What are you going to do with them Captain? They cost us our cavalry."

Captain's eyes blazed for several moments. I knew that later he and Colonel Melo would have a one-sided heart to heart someplace away from the men. I almost felt sorry for Melo. Almost.

"I will deal with him later," Captain said. "We should see to the cavalry. I've seen no sign of Forster or Warspite." He paused and looked hard at Thebarge. He and De La Croix went way back. "Thebarge, will you see to Lieutenant De La Croix?"

Thebarge's mouth worked silently as he struggled with his emotions. Finally, "It would be my honour Captain."

As Captain began to ride off I said to De Lyon, "You seem to know this land fairly well Sergeant. Is there a village or town nearby?"

De Lyon looked puzzled, "Yeah. Why?"

I shrugged, "Well, this battle needs a name Sergeant. We need to honour the fallen. I can't very well call it the 'Battle of Somewhere' now, can I."


FORSTER:

Warspite and Storey sat on their horses, both looking around to see what had happened. Neither could see the LT Forster. Warspite gave the signal for recall. Storey saw it from his location and repeated it.
What was left of the free cavalry made its way to Warspite. Out of the seven hundred fifty that entered the valley, it looked as if only 217 remained. There may be more laying out there on the field, but that is all that were ahorse after the corporals came back with the count. Warspite and Storey conversed for a few minutes, then gave orders for those who were lightly injured to hold the horses while those in good shape were to start searching the killing field for any comrades that might still be alive. Storey remained with the men while Warspite went to look for the Captain.
Finally, when all was done accounted for, another 70 men were found who were in fair shape, they had fallen under other bodies or had their horse fall on them. They located another 110 who might live, but would no longer serve with the Free Company. They also found Lt Forster. He had both arms nearly cut through, and was stabbed numerous times, including through the throat. The men said it looked as if he went down fighting, there were bodies all around him.
As Storey made his way he heard one of the men ask a corporal, why, why did we have to do this. The corporal told him, ours is not to make a reply, ours is not to reason why, ours is but to do and die. He was crying as he said it.


WARSPITE:

Warspite helped with the tending to the injured. He knelt down to assist one of the cavalrymen who was badly crushed and barely alive. Next to the man was a dead turk.

Applying a damp cloth to the cavalrymans forehead warspite tried to revive the injured man, encouraging him which seemed to help. Within several minutes the man was able to sit up and assess his injuries with the cossack. Warspite was so intent on helping the man he didnt realize the turk behind him was now moving and very much alive.

cvlryman "Thank you sir for your help, mmmm its hard to tell you where the injury is, everything hurts haha"

warspite "yeah, its gonna for awhile ........"

the cavalryman then saw the what was the source of warspites sudden gasp, the turk had taken a knife and from on his back, just rolled over and lunged the dagger deep into the back of warspite. gritting his teeth in pain, warspite struggled to get up and saw the turk. taking his sword but now without enough strength to move, warspite simple fell down ontop of the turk with the sword slicing clear through the turks body and into the hard ground below him. Both men layed there while the cavalry man yelled for help.

By the time storey and the others came and grabbed warspite, the turk was finally dead but so was warspite.


LORD DURHAM:

Chapter Closed

After the Battle of Karlovac Colonel Melo insisted the army march east to rendezvous with the main Venetian force at Zagreb. It turned out they missed them by a few days. The Venetian army under General Furlano had continued south and met up with the Milanese. Together they engaged another Turkish force, winning a Pyrrhic victory at best. This time it was the Milanese who bailed out the Venetians.

The news was small consolation to the Company as word arrived from Venice several weeks later that the government was releasing the Company from their contract due to severe financial and political restraints. It seemed the unexpected high loss of Venetian lives was swaying public opinion, and with the near destruction of two Venetian armies in Croatia it meant they had just one army operational, and it was besieging Trieste.

Captain was relieved. He was tired. He had seen too many old friends die recently and he felt that perhaps the time had come for new blood to run the Company.

Without so much as a backward glance the Free Company left Zagreb and began the long journey home. They owed it to themselves to take a break, and Captain had his eye on a seaside villa on the outskirts of Palermo.


Thus ends the fifth chronicle of the Free Company.