Ch.186Suppression (5)

“Duke! I think you should see this.”

“What is it?”

“Look over there where the enemy has set up camp. They seem to be planning something.”

“What is… that?”

Naturally, the enemy wouldn’t leave our forces to rest in peace. Perhaps to keep us in check, they had set up camp in the distance, just within our line of sight.

I had given orders to keep a close watch in case they sent envoys, but instead of diplomats, a strange group suddenly emerged.

“Can you see what they’re doing? My eyes are too dim to make it out clearly.”

“…Bows? No, they’re too large and straight to be bows. They’re all holding some oddly shaped clubs.”

The group was holding wooden clubs with something long and unidentifiable attached to the top. They were gripping them with one hand at the base and the other on the body, almost like how one would hold a spear.

Of course, these weren’t spears but mere clubs, so if only one person were doing this, it would have looked quite ridiculous. But with numerous soldiers adopting the same posture, the intimidation factor was surprisingly significant.

They clearly seemed to be planning something, but I couldn’t figure out what.

Judging by their equipment, they weren’t non-combatants like envoys, but the problem was that there were no weapons in sight.

Could those clubs be weapons? No, that couldn’t be right.

The king, who had amassed all the wealth of Lotharingia and Carolingia, wouldn’t have armed his soldiers with such clubs unless he was some impoverished nobleman.

“Could it be those cannon things we’ve heard about?”

“No, those are large enough for a grown man to fit inside and correspondingly heavy.”

“Hmm…”

The enemy soldiers, holding their strange objects in peculiar stances, were now slowly advancing forward, pushing wooden shields mounted on wheels, with their main force following behind.

They were definitely planning something… but I couldn’t figure out what.

“Your Highness!! How should we proceed?!”

“…Kill them. It doesn’t appear they’re approaching with friendly intentions.”

One thing was certain: they were not approaching with peaceful intentions.

Their weapons seemed laughably inadequate, but the atmosphere was so menacing that I couldn’t afford to let my guard down.

“Yes! Hold fire until they’re within effective range!!”

I’m not sure what they’re thinking, but their intent to attack is clear, so we must respond accordingly.

This flat terrain favors our archers, and despite the time constraints, we’ve established decent fortifications, so defense shouldn’t be too difficult.

The flat terrain on both sides allows us to spot any flanking maneuvers early, and with forests and hills behind us, the risk of attacks from the rear is minimal.

That means… we just need to hold off those approaching from the front.

Good, I can see how this will play out.

They may be charging recklessly, but it shouldn’t end too badly for us.

“Ready to fire!!”

As the enemies approaching with their wooden shields and strange club-bearers entered the effective range of our bows, the knight gave the archers the order to prepare.

Yes, if they just come a little closer—

“—Huh?”

But then, the enemy forces that had been simply walking forward suddenly stopped in place and literally planted their wheeled shields into the ground.

Focusing my eyes to see what was happening, I noticed that the clubs from earlier were being placed on top of the shields, with their heads pointing toward us.

What is that—

“Holes?”

They were too far away earlier to see clearly, but now that they’re closer, I can see strange holes in those clubs.

Moreover, the cylindrical objects attached to the ends of the clubs appear to be made of bronze.

Those are…

“Cannons…”

Having seen them many times during the Carolingian succession war, I could recognize them.

Though smaller in size, their form is unmistakably that of cannons.

Which means… damn it!!

“Everyone down!!”

“Your Grace?”

“Shut up and get down if you don’t want to die!! Right now—”

Ratatatatang—!!

The sound is incomparably smaller than what I heard during the succession war, but it’s still loud enough to drown out human screams.

The Duke’s cry disappears, swallowed by the sound of gunfire.

……….

“Your Majesty, Duke Vermandois’s army will soon arrive at Dijon. His advance envoy is requesting permission to enter Dijon Castle. What shall we do?”

Already here? My, that’s quick.

I expected them to arrive today or tomorrow, but I didn’t think they’d come while the sun was still high in the sky.

If I remember correctly, the distance between Dijon and Vermandois is quite far, so they must have departed very early.

“Hmm… Since there’s a battle ongoing, send the soldiers to the battlefield and invite only Duke Vermandois. Ah, also grant entry to his guard and retainers.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

I’d like to let the soldiers who traveled from afar rest, but unfortunately, we’re in the middle of a battle.

Though victory is almost certain, more troops are always better.

The servant who heard my order leaves with quick steps to deliver the entry permission to Duke Vermandois.

It’s rather obvious, but servants truly have it hard.

They can’t be slow, but they can’t lack dignity either. Walking with such a gait to satisfy both conditions must be exhausting.

……….

BOOM—!

“AAAAARGH!!”

“My leg, my leg!!”

What is this…?

Is this truly the battlefield as I knew it?

A battlefield should be where sword meets sword, where honor clashes with honor, but there’s none of that here.

There’s only a living hell.

“Get away from those metal pieces!! They explode and spray blades!!”

“What are our cavalry doing?! We’ll all die if we stay still, so charge and close the distance!!”

“No!! There are too many spears and fires!!”

‘…’

I can’t see any way to recover from this situation.

If we stay put, we’ll die from the cannonballs, but approaching is impossible due to the numerous firebombs and other obstacles.

Counter with arrows? With such a disparity in ranged firepower, that would be foolish.

‘Retreat… would be even more disastrous.’

The forest and hills behind us make proper retreat impossible. Moreover, with the lack of order, a disorganized withdrawal would cause a bottleneck and lead to an even greater catastrophe.

The enemy would hunt us down like deer in the forest.

“…We must surrender.”

“Duke, Your Grace?!”

“We’ve already lost this war. Isn’t it best to surrender quickly before increasing the meaningless casualties?”

…It’s alright, there’s still a way to achieve my goal.

If I can somehow create an opportunity to meet the king… I’ll take his life by any means necessary.

“Raise the white flag and send surrender envoys immediately.”

“Yes, Your Grace!”

As a member of the House of Burgundy and the leader of a faction, even a cruel king wouldn’t refuse to meet me.

That will be my moment to strike.

He won’t treat me, his cousin and a duke, too harshly, so I should be able to conceal at least one dagger in my sleeve—

“AAAAARGH!!!”

“—What?!”

Just then, the unarmed envoy walking with the white flag collapses, struck down by an enemy soldier’s sword.

The white flag, raised high in the middle of the battlefield, draws everyone’s attention, and all on the field witness this atrocity.

“Who was that, a common soldier?! Damn it, what is the king doing if he can’t even maintain discipline?! Quickly, send more envoys!”

“Y-Yes!!”

Because the one who killed the envoy was a common soldier, the rebels couldn’t make the right judgment.

Mistakenly killing those who shouldn’t be harmed on the battlefield is a frequent occurrence among inexperienced soldiers.

“Stop, I am— Gurrrk…”

“…Huh?”

But this time, a knight precisely pierces an envoy’s throat with his sword, and seeing this, the rebels can no longer make the wrong judgment.

A knight, who couldn’t possibly misunderstand the meaning of a white flag and is subject to strict discipline, has struck down an envoy.

The nobles and soldiers, whose tension had eased at the sight of the white flag thinking this hell would end, now feel endless despair along with the king’s resolute and cruel will.

……….

“How unexpected. I didn’t think Duke Vermandois wouldn’t head straight to the battlefield.”

Having finished preparations to receive Duke Vermandois, I suddenly had that thought.

Though I haven’t interacted with him much as individuals, I’ve met him several times as lord and vassal.

Unless there’s an issue like fighting against blood relatives as in this case, he’s unusually loyal for a noble lord and has a very bellicose personality.

The Duke Vermandois I know would prefer to go to the front lines and personally command rather than remain in the rear, so why is he coming to see me instead of rushing to the battlefield?

“Your Majesty, the Duke has changed!”

“What?”

“The former Duke of Vermandois has died suddenly, and his eldest son Louis has succeeded him. This is the report from the gatekeeper.”

Just as I was pondering this question, a servant entering from outside delivers surprising information.

Well… hmm…

No wonder his attitude seemed to change so drastically.

I was confused when he suddenly decided to participate after being reluctant to fight against blood relatives, but this explains it.

Of course his behavior changed—he’s a completely different person— wait a minute.

‘Wasn’t that bastard a rebel sympathizer?’

It was clearly written in the intelligence report.

Louis, the heir to the Duke of Vermandois, was hostile to me and strongly sympathized with the rebels.

Since his father was an unusually devout royalist, and heirs typically have no power before inheritance, I had decided to ignore him for the time being…

CLANG— CLAAANG—!!

“…Shit.”

A sound I haven’t heard in a long time reaches my ears.

The problem is, it’s a sound that should never be heard here in the royal castle.