Chapter 40: Charge!
A week later, in the vast sea of sand, a troop of cavalry advanced slowly under the scorching sun. In just a few short days, Lothar's skin had visibly tanned by a shade. If he wore a headscarf and face covering, he was almost indistinguishable from a native Arab or Kurd.
During this time, they had encountered numerous dangers. The most perilous was a run-in with Saladin's trusted confidant and nephew, Sa'd al-Din, currently serving as the Governor of Syria, and his cavalry troop. Fortunately, Abdullah's quick wits had successfully bluffed their way through.
Lothar took out his waterskin, sipped a small mouthful, and asked the Kurdish leader beside him, "Where are we now? Have we entered Sasanian territory?"
Abdullah was somewhat puzzled as to how this young foreigner before him could endure the desert's drought and scorching heat so well. "What territory? In this place, the lords and chieftains loyal to Saladin and the Sasanian King are like tumbleweeds in the desert, tumbling in whichever way the wind blows."
"I understand. So, if we select some lords who are firmly allied with the Sasanian King, or even openly oppose and resist Saladin, the effect will be best?" Lothar mused aloud. He had to play this act perfectly; he couldn't guarantee the Sasanian King would follow his script.
"Correct. I know of an oasis not far from here. It is the territory of Kaukab. He was once a vassal loyal to King Nur al-Din. After Saladin usurped the throne, he defected to the Sasanian King and has openly provoked Saladin from there multiple times."
Lothar was somewhat puzzled. "Doesn't that sound like they should be in the same camp as you?"
A trace of ferocity surfaced on Abdullah's face. "When Saladin led his army into Syria back then, we appealed to him for aid. He didn't send a single soldier! Such a treacherous villain dares to provoke Saladin under the banner of the late King? This is an insult to us!"
Lothar nodded, settling on this lucky candidate. "Then we'll choose them. This Kaukab, does he reside in that oasis you mentioned?"
Abdullah nodded. "Of course. That is his main base. All chieftains and tribes subordinate to him must present tribute and offer cattle and sheep there on time."
"How are its defenses?"
"There is a wooden fort. Though the garrison within is not large, many cavalry units are stationed dispersedly in the smaller oases surrounding this main one. Once the fort's garrison requests aid, the surrounding forces will rush to reinforce them."
Lothar was lost in thought. An oasis could only support a limited population; exceeding that limit would cause the oasis to shrink rapidly. This meant Kaukab's wooden fort certainly wouldn't have too many defenders.
"It seems we must strike quickly and decisively. If Kaukab's defenses are tight, we cannot afford to waste too much time either; we'll have to switch targets quickly." Lothar and Abdullah discussed their strategy, urging the column to speed up.
Before long, a scout galloped back. He called out loudly, "There's a group of about a hundred men ahead! They are Kaukab's Bedouins, transporting tribute to Kaukab. They appear to be unguarded."
Lothar's eyes lit up. "Opportunity knocks! We must deal with these Bedouins first! They are key to our infiltration."
Abdullah nodded. "I understand." He then raised his voice and shouted, "Everyone, prepare for battle!"
A Kurdish cavalryman approached, handing Lothar a bag of horse feed. Besides grass, it also contained cooked beans and wheat bran. This fine fodder was essential before a warhorse's charge.
While replenishing his mount's energy, Lothar chatted with the cavalryman, "Hadi, this is your first battle, isn't it? Are you nervous?"
Hadi was the youngest in the Kurdish cavalry troop, only sixteen this year.
Hadi smiled gently. "Milord, I have already eaten today."
'…'
"I thought I could already speak Kurdish," Lothar mused with some resignation, patting Hadi's head. He handed the feed to Hans, then, grasping his riding crop, quickly climbed a small hillock ahead.
In the distance, a long column could already be seen, slowly advancing in their direction: dromedary camels, warhorses, pack animals, livestock. It was a sizable nomadic party. Their leader, wearing a chainmail coif lined with purple silk and a suit of gleaming silver scale armor, rode at the very front, occasionally laughing and chatting with his subordinates. They indeed looked unprepared, not even having sent out scouts, apparently not expecting an attack in the heart of Kaukab's territory.
Lothar turned back and waited for the cavalrymen to finish feeding their mounts the fine fodder, then swung himself onto his horse. He ordered, "Prepare to engage."
Lothar covered his mouth and nose with a scarf, his chainmail face guard dropping over it. He took the Winged Hussar's Swallowtail Banner in hand, gave it a light shake, and it transformed into a banner emblazoned with three fiercely burning flames flanking an Eagle of Saladin.
"Always remember our identity: loyal warriors under Saladin! I am your leader—Sa'd al-Din!" He raised the lance in his hand, now adorned with the swallowtail banner, and said to the Kurdish cavalrymen behind him, "Kill all enemies who dare to take up arms and resist!"
"Yes!" The cavalrymen immediately sprang into action. Their combat style was very similar to that of European cavalry; they too charged with lances, but would switch to shamshir for close combat.
Abdullah and Hans stayed close by Lothar's side. Banu and Fringilla were further back; in this battle, Lothar had ordered Banu to prioritize protecting Fringilla, the spellcaster. With his shared talent, he didn't have to worry about being in immediate danger and could hold out until aid arrived.
For some reason, the Kurdish cavalrymen felt their charge today was as light and swift as if divinely assisted. Their mounts galloped, their speed noticeably faster than usual. Iron hooves kicked up clouds of yellow dust. The sound was like thunder.
Discovering the attack, the Bedouins were thrown into extreme panic. The cavalrymen in loose white robes at the front rushed towards the head of their column, attempting to block the ferocious enemy and buy time for their infantry to prepare defenses.
The Bedouin leader shouted in both Arabic and Kurdish, "We are under Lord Kaukab! Who are you? Is there some misunderstanding?"
Abdullah shouted back loudly, "It is Kaukab we seek! For daring to insult my King Saladin, my master Sa'd al-Din will feed Kaukab's head to the desert vultures!"
The tall Arabian horses churned up the yellow earth. Lothar felt the wind whistle past his ears, his heartbeat quickening, but his mood was no longer as tense as during his previous charges. He was seasoned enough now.
'Screeech—' The lance pierced the neck of a cavalryman in front. This was a well-equipped rider, but his scale neck guard offered no resistance to the sharp lance tip tearing through his throat.
Lothar blocked an attack from a Bedouin cavalryman wielding a flail with his shield, feeling a sharp, numbing pain in his shield arm. In that split second, he clearly saw his opponent's savage face. Then, they galloped past each other, like viewing flowers from horseback.
The image of the last enemy still lingered before Lothar's eyes as his lance pierced the shield of the next, sending the man flying. Lothar himself was nearly unhorsed by the violent impact, but Hans, beside him, quickly steadied him. He resettled himself in the saddle, only then realizing he had just dispatched the leader of these Bedouins.
Over forty horsemen had punched clean through the enemy formation. The Bedouin cavalry troop immediately disintegrated. The few survivors scattered and fled, not daring to resist this demonic cavalry that seemed to have emerged from hell itself.
Lothar rode to the rear of the column and, looking at the chaotic caravan, raised the banner in his hand and said in Kurdish, "Rally the troop! Don't give pursuit! Abdullah, go and persuade them to surrender. Those who lay down their weapons may leave freely."
With their cavalry dealt with, this Bedouin caravan could almost be declared finished. But a direct assault would not only consume time but also potentially incur more losses. Abdullah pondered for a moment, then used the few Arabic phrases he knew to order them to surrender. But their response was a volley of Bedouin arrows.
Lothar raised the lance in his hand—now indestructible due to the attached Winged Hussar's Swallowtail Banner, and still stained with crimson blood. "Since they have resolved to resist, then let us continue! Form groups and charge! Bit by bit, we will devour them." Lothar gave the order.
Half an hour later, the enemies putting up a desperate struggle were cleaned up.
"Abdullah, count the casualties."
"Six wounded, one dead. No serious injuries. The enemy was not strong and was caught unprepared; many weren't even wearing armor. We fought a beautiful surprise attack."
"Good." Lothar nodded in satisfaction. Such a casualty ratio, unless fighting a group of conscripted serfs, would be considered a great victory anywhere. The elite quality of this Kurdish cavalry unit was in no way inferior to Baron Godfrey's own cavalry.
Someone, his face etched with grief, approached, cradling a corpse, and said something rapidly in Kurdish. Lothar looked at the familiar features of the corpse and fell silent.
Hadi was dead. The sixteen-year-old boy who always grinned, revealing two rows of white, even teeth.
"Burn his body. Hadi will return to the embrace of Mithra." Abdullah's face showed little sorrow. "If this child had survived his first battle, he would have transformed into an eagle." The attrition rate for new recruits on the battlefield was the highest. Only by surviving the first war could a new recruit transform into a veteran. Unfortunately, Hadi hadn't made it.[1]
Lothar removed his headscarf, clutched it in his hand, and silently offered a prayer.
"Let's go! Before Kaukab learns of our arrival!" He raised the Flame-Eagle banner in his hand. "Take this caravan, the camels, and the horses! We need to disguise ourselves as a caravan offering tribute to Kaukab! We must be quick!" Vultures were already circling in the sky; sooner or later, they would attract Kaukab's soldiers to investigate. Time was of the essence.
After this battle, Lothar successfully advanced to Level 3. He decided not to allocate his attribute points for the time being. He was waiting until his affinity with Fringilla increased to Friendly, so he could try using her talent, Blood Magic Specialization. If it proved useful, he was considering whether to add some points to Spirit.
*****
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[1] Zoroastrians believe that as soon as the breath has left it, the body becomes impure. Death is considered to be the work of Angra Mainyu, the embodiment of all that is evil, whereas the earth and all that is beautiful is considered to be the pure work of God. Contaminating the elements (Earth, Air, Fire and Water) with decaying matter such as a corpse is considered sacrilege.
Instead of burying or cremating the corpse, Zoroastrians traditionally laid it out on a purpose built tower (dokhma or 'Tower of Silence') to be exposed to the sun and eaten by birds of prey such as vultures.
But here I'm gonna go with cremation. It is more practical and also just feels right.