Plan Three
“I assume this is all part of one clever giant plan?” Anders asked. They were now riding down to the base of the hill, leaving the grunts and curses of the artillery men as they hitched the cannons to horse.
Noble nodded.
“And I assume it will involve putting ourselves in great personal danger as we accomplish feats of daring heroism?” They were now rejoined by the dragoons acting as couriers on the bottom of the hill.
Noble nodded
“And I assume you are not going to tell me any part of it until it is too late for me to say ‘no’?” They were galloping around the base of the hill, to where the Carabiniers-a-cheval were nestled between the hill and the bramble woods.
Noble nodded again.
Anders sighed, despite himself. “Well all right, brother. What next?”
Noble held up three fingers and pointed to carabiniers in the clearing.
Anders, Noble, and Jean LoveCross, the Lord of Horse to the regiment, discussed matters under a large elm. He held his red crested helm in his hands and listened to the two marshals speak.
“So you wish every man to dismount and walk,” Jean balked a little at that word, “their mounts through this forest? That is infested with voltigeur sharpshooters?”
“It must be as Noble says it must be.” Anders replied.
“Well if it is how Noble says it must be, then let him gather the nerve to tell me.” Jean gave Noble a haughty stare down his nose.
“Tell me LoveCross,” Noble said, trying to stare the taller man down, “is it pride, or fear that makes a carabinier worry about going without their precious black horses.” Though they were not like the fabled steeds of the Dar’Shum, the carabinier’s large mounts were intimidating. The carabiniers were truly a sight to behold: resplendent in their back and front plate cuirass worn over white coats, and red crested helmets, and their grand sabres, all sheeted in bronze. The carabiniers where the largest and most veteran cavalrymen, and thus considered themselves the elite of the military arm that was known for their elitist behavior.
Anders tensed as Jean gave Noble a dangerous look: though Noble and He held the batons of command, Jean was Lord of Horse for the campaign and thus of equal battlefield status and, as commander of the fearsome Carabiniers-a-cheval, had considerable prestige. “I did not say they would not do it, Noble, just that they would not like it.” He was a consummate cavalry man, and would let no one tarnish their pride.
“What do they not like? The walking, or the chance to fight the entire Hostrian regiment? Are they scared to take on the legendary Hostrian cavalry?”
Ander’s watched Jean’s eyes take on an onyx glint as his Affinity flowed into him. He carefully exhaled his onyx breath, and spoke slowly. “Calling a carabinier a coward is a sure way to get a slow sabre in the back.”
“Is that a threat?” Noble placed his hand on his dragoon pistols, and raised his eyebrows in amusement.
“No”, Jean sighed, “we will follow your rust for brains plan, Noble. They are always fool hardy clever. But-” Jean pocked Noble’s chest with his finger, “it doesn’t mean I have to forging like your plans!”
“If you follow my plan, maybe your boys will learn how to fight proper, and we will be able to make the Hostrians ‘forging dislike my plans’ as well.”
Plan Four
Riding a short distance forward from the Carabiniers, Anders found himself in the combined command post for 1st and 2nd battalions. If one was to describe Berthier FarRoads in one word, the word would be “solid”. Though cadets were required to shave daily when not on campaign, FarRoads stubble was on its way to becoming a respectable beard despite being it being only the second day of the Hex skirmish. Though he was in regulation as far as his uniform was concerned, his unruly dark black hair would not have passed even the most lax drill sergeant’s muster. The large Metal Affinity Captain of the foot, the Battalion Chief for the 3rd Royal Line Regiment / 1st to 2nd Battalions, and now acting Lord of Muskets since Anders was acting Marshall, had his arms crossed and was gruffly awaiting their arrival in front of the CP tent.
“RockShield, TrueMatch,” he nodded. “Was expecting you.” He held his arms behind his back and stood at parade rest, awaiting orders, a look in his eyes that said “awaiting orders”.
Anders dismounted and waved his cartographer officer to dismount as well. Noble was receiving the reports from the stream of dragoons and giving follow up orders to be sent off by their replacement. “Are these locations for 1st through 4th battalions accurate?”
FarRoads studied the disposition map and called over his Aide-de-Camps and conferred with them. “From the reports I have received from BrightHand, the 4th is farther forward north then you have them noted.” FarRoads pointed to the general location of the Battalions in the center and right flank. They had moved out in the standard order of battle, 1st holding the extreme right flank, the 2nd disposed to the left of it, and so on and so forth. Since the fighting had been extremely light and infrequent except on the left flank, most of the battalions were still in their original positions. Anders called Noble over.
Noble signaled to his dragoons and walked over. FarRoads gave Noble an amiable yet terse nod: he had gained FarRoads hard to win respect after Noble’s dragoons had pulled FarRoad’s 1st from an especially nasty pinch in the last season’s Hex skirmishes. “Berthier, how are you holding up here?”
“Could do with a little more roughing up if you ask me. PressHill had the 1st awarded with plumes for their last action, haven’t yet had the chance to let the boys prove that they deserve it.” FarRoads cockaded plume was notably absent from his tricorn.
“I come bearing gifts then,” Noble said. “Are you prepared to execute in oblique order? Not just your battalion, I’m giving you provisional command of 2nd and BrightHand’s 3rd as well.”
“Not 4th?”
“I’m giving 4th a special task that will require Lawrence’s special attention. Oh, and he will need the companies of voltigeurs attached to the 1st through 3rd battalions.”
“Done.” Berthier FarRoads was the embodiment of infantry mentality: tell me what to do, point me where to go. “Will BrightHand be needing an abundance of sharp shooters soon?”
Noble just grinned, and grabbed Ander’s ADC to point at the map. “Send the three battalions forward, 3rd the leading element , 2nd a battalion width behind, 1st the same behind. You will need to clear Hendericks skirmishers out so LoveCross’ carabiniers can pass through behind you undetected. It is imperative that the Hostrians do not know that our heavy cavalry elements have moved, understand?”
Another nod. “Anything else?”
“Yes, of your five remaining companies per battalion, I want you to move in mixed columns north from the hill. Keep a frontage of line, but make your columns ready to move west on my command.”
“Towards the left flank then.” FarRoads studied the map. “You are planning something very sneaky Noble, I can feel it. I just don’t have the entire picture.”
“No one has the entire picture,” Anders said, faking insult. “It’s just the way Noble operates.”
“It’s not intentional, I assure you. I don’t even have the entire picture yet worked out in my head,” Noble said, raising four fingers, “and explaining it might kill the whole thing dead in its tracks.”
“If that was supposed to be reassuring,” Berthier said, “I assure you, it is not.”
Berthier, Noble, and Anders shared a grin. For Anders, who had been raised by an over bearing and overly strict father, finding friends among cadets others would have called “ruffian” and “heretic” had been a godsend. Praise Afin for finding others who were not caught up in the stringent rules and etiquette of the Veldarian upper class.
“Well then, Anders, Noble,” Berthier nodded to both, “I’ll be heading off, see you on the field.” Berthier mounted his horse, and he and Noble followed suit.
Noble extended his arm to Berthier. “Brother, are you ready to unleash the rods and pinions of hell?”
Berthier gave a deep chuckle at the borrowed Metal Affinity saying. “Wherever I am on the battlefield, there is always hell, Noble.” He was joined by his personal detachment of mounted Dreadnoughts, shielded and bladed Metal Affinity men at arms. He tipped his tricorn to the two Marshalls and was soon yelling orders to ADCs that sent the camp a bustling.
Plan Five
Noble and Anders made their way to the position Berthier had marked as the 4th Battalion’s command post. The stream of dragoons remained unabated, each returning dragoon updating the position of the company or battalion his fire team was the couriering for, and the leaving dragoon heading to that position after determining where Noble’s command-de-cheval would be when he returned. Though dragoons where classified as heavy cavalry, they had been trained in coordinated far ranging operations, like their light brethren the Hussars and the chassuers-a-cheval. The dragoons reported that almost all the elements had moved into place, leaving the last piece of Noble’s plan to put in place.
When Anders had first met Laurence BrightHand, he was just a rather bookish classmate with piercing blue eyes that saw too much. As much as Berthier had come from the disreputable FarRoads family, and Noble had come from the ailing TrueMatch family — and a heretic no less-- Laurence rivaled them all in oddness. There was no BrightHand noble family that anyone knew of, and as far as Anders could tell from consulting the Royal Veldaria Library, there never had been. Laurence attended the academy on a royal patronage, and to ask further was not a polite topic that one broached with their friends. But whereas Jean was proud, Tayler was fearless, Bertier was staunch, Armour was explosive, and Noble was clever, Laurence was simply analytical. Accurately analytical in his assessment of the situation, but extremely creative in his response to said situation. Laurence had been the last of Squad Fire to actively participate in the classroom exercises with the rest of the group, but what a group they become when he finally did. It was a stretch to call them all friends: Jean and Noble’s disposition to each other on a good day could barely be called amiable. But they were a truly squad behold, on the tableau d’affinite and on the field.
Noble reached Laurence first when they reached battalion CP, plodding through the soft undergrowth of the spare woods, the late morning mist and battlefield smoke almost ready to give way to the emerging sun. There was Premiere Chef de Batallion of the 3rd Royal / 3rd and 4th Battalions , looking into the smoky battlefield, his eyes analyzing the scene in front of him, and quite possibly beyond that. Laurence noticed everything.
He called without turning around. “Ho Noble. And I assume Anders is with you too”
“Right you are, brother,” Anders said. Despite himself, he liked the intense cadet with the suspicious heritage.
He turned around with a grin on his face and a timbre in his voice. “Well it’s about soaking time,” the Water Affinity cadet cursed jovially, “any later and you two would have been too late to turn this mess around. As it stands right now, Noble, I hope you have an especially clever plan for all of this. Have you pulled back the 5th through 7th yet?”
Noble and Anders stared at Laurence, Anders with his mouths slightly agape, Noble with a small knowing grin.
“By the rock dumb look on your face, Anders, I will assume you have. Well, what have you sent me to pivot on the Hostrians? I would place even bets on most of 3rd battalion or Jean’s carabiniers.”
Anders still had a hard time getting words out: BrightHand had surmised a significant part of Noble’s plans, surely without seeing the disposition map at regimental CP — since Anders carried that with him presently — and only see barely a segment of the battlefield. Laurence held provisional command of 4th battalion, and also personal command of the regiment’s detachment of Water Affinity sappers and engineers, currently attached to 4th battalion. As such, Laurence was the logistical and technical problem solver for the regiment. He was a road building, bridge erecting, wall breaking, trebuchet constructing son of a tide pool and proud of it. Ander’s had never met anyone as creative as Laurence when it came to problem solving.
Noble gave Anders a look and just grinned. “Neither and both, BrightHand. I’ve detached all three companies of voltigeurs from 1st through 3rd and sent them your way, and presently those same battalions with their grenadiers and fusiliers are clearing this bramble infested den of skirmishers so that LoveCross carabiniers can make there way through without anyone a droplet’s wiser.” He gave a big smile and placed his gloved on his hips with bemusement. “How’d you figure?”
Anders saw Laurence’s eyes gleam as he explained: his brilliance was a fine counterpart to Noble’s cleverness. “Ho,ho, a voltigeur attachment, that is torrenting clever Noble. Since you are giving me the sharpshooting element, that must mean you are using the 5th through 7th as the anvil, and the carabiniers as the hammer. Which means, that the 5th through 7th battalions were not retreating, but were in fact advancing to the rear and regrouping. Which means,” Laurence whistled, “well that is very clever. And the artillery too I suppose?” Laurence waved away the rhetorical question. “Of course, you wouldn’t forget about Armour’s batteries. How many did you leave up there? Three? No, Two?” Noble just kept smiling as Ander’s found himself more and more impressed by Laurence’s concise assessment of the situation, as well as more and more confused about what the situation truly was. “He probably doesn’t have that much ammunition to spend keeping that farce up. Which means,” Laurence stared at the rising sun, “soon?”
“Yes,” Noble conceded, raising five fingers, “better sooner than later. But I will need some spectacular moving and shooting from you. I suppose you are up to the task?”
Anders could see Laurence’s anticipation climb as he surreptitiously licked his lips and fanned his fingers together. “You know what Water Affinities say: ‘sink or swim, either way, I’m getting in the wet.’”
“Are you familiar with skirmishing order?”
“Ho, ho, you won’t make this easy for me will you?”
“Would you enjoy it if he did?” Anders asked rhetorically.
Laurence just grinned and winked. “Explain this ‘skirmishing’ we’ve heard so much about.”
“You will deploy the ranks individually in line. Take the first rank, move them forward 100 paces. Then, have the ranks move 10 paces apart, and then have them move forward a minimum of 50 paces, but however it takes to find cover: tall grass, logs, boulders, dead horses when it comes to it, then take the next rank…”
Anders knew that this was the last piece of Noble’s plan, and though he did not fully understand it yet, he could not help but also be excited to end the deceptions and posturing and fake maneuvering, and unleash Escouade Fire on the hapless Hostrians.
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Thanks for reading!
Meet the Gang part 2
And on to the rest of the gang!
Noble TrueMatch - Dragoon - No Affinity
Anders RockShield - Infantry - Earth Affinity
Armour HardCourt - Artillery - Fire Affinity
Jean LoveCross - Heavy Infantry - Metal Affinity
Bertier FarRoads - Infatry + DreadNoughts - Metal Affinity
Laurence BrightHand- Engineer Corps - Water Affinity
Tayler HoldFast - Light Cavalry - Wind Affinity
join us next week for Chapter 3, Closing the Trap
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