"Cry 'Havoc!', and let slip the dogs of war!" - Shakespeare's 'Julius Caesar'
Isaac, Hector, a fully healed Lenore, and the rest of the self-proclaimed Styrian King's court stood gathered around a distance mirror, watching the county's enemies bear down on them. Two distinct armies opposed them. From the north came the army of the Holy Roman Empire, primarily of Austrian composition. To the south, the Papal States mustered a smaller supporting army of mercenaries that marched towards Styria's southernmost holdings, the region of Carinthia. Marching through Venetian territory, they dared the Doge to stop them while he was preoccupied with his renewed war with the Muslim Ottoman Empire. Naturally, he did not.
Isaac turned towards Lenore and Codintero, his chief military man. "Is there anything you can tell me about Carinthia that you haven't already?"
Lenore answered first. "Not much, Your Highness. Carinthia was an independent duchy under Austrian influence that Styria conquered a century ago. It's always been a troublesome region, but its blood output helped alleviate pressure on the humans of Styria proper." Lenore hesitated and then said "For a while, anyway."
"For this reason and for its relative lack of garrison, Your Majesty," Codintero added with a sideways glance towards the former vampire queen, "we can expect it to provide little resistance to the Papal forces on their way to Styria proper." Lenore raised an eyebrow in irritation.
Nonverbal sniping aside, the war council quickly convened on a strategy. While Styrian numbers were limited compared to their combined foes, they had little choice but to split their numbers and fight this two-front war as such. King Isaac would lead the bulk of the army against the larger army of the Austrians, taking up a defensive position. Meanwhile, Codintero, Hector, and a smaller force would go march south and intercept the invaders from the Papal States. Lenore, of course, would remain in the castle. The art of war was not her strong point.
Codintero and Hector departed Styria Keep with a mixed force of human soldiers and vampire veterans, accompanied by a number of his night creatures. Seven thousand souls, living, dead, or somewhere in between, human or otherwise, marched. Most likely the papal force would outnumber them slightly, but it was what Isaac felt they could afford while the bulk of Styria's army prepared for the Holy Roman Empire's attack to the north.
As the army marched southward, a message reached Codintero. He stopped. Catholics backing Styria's enemies led a rebellion inside Graz, the kingdom's largest city. Although the local garrison thwarted them, many escaped capture and fled eastward, last seen moving in the direction of the nearby town of Voitsberg. Isaac's chief man of arms briefly conferred with Hector and redirected his forces in the settlement's direction, resolving to crush the rebels before they regroup and cause trouble.
Sure enough, after a day's march, they found their quarry amid a smoking portion of the town. The human rebels had burned the homes of the vampiric residents and slaughtered those inside, staying to loot and regroup. Seeing the approaching army of human loyalists, night creatures, and vampires clad in day-armor, the rebels made their last stand among the ruins, but Codintero soon had them surrounded, and crushed the remnants of Graz's revolt. Only the mysterious ringleader, who may have never even left the city, remained, and he was of little concern if even existed in the first place.
Walking amid the smoldering remains of several vampiric homes, Hector saw piles of ashes in rough humanoid shapes. The rebels must have hauled at least some of their inhabitants out into the daylight and let the sun do its grisly work. Looking up, he saw a vampiric soldier dragging an injured rebel towards a shadowy corner, ignoring his prey's pleading for mercy. Hector turned his head as the sound of fangs plunging into flesh brought the begging to a sudden end. He sighed. Perhaps it was only fair, and who was he to pretend that he had never exacted such violent vengeance, after what he did to his own abusive parents?
Thinking some more, Hector realized that he heard this town's name before… Voitsberg… He couldn't recall the exact details, despite the sickening feeling welling up inside him. Not on his own behalf, but someone he knew.
They resumed their southward march. Reports from loyal sources indicated that the papal army had indeed advanced through Carinthia with little resistance, greeted in some cases as liberators. Now, the enemy had their eyes set on Styria proper.
As they neared the border, Codintero turned to the forgemaster accompanying him. "Hector, may I ask a difficult question?"
"Of course." Hector drew his horse closer to Codintero's.
Codintero lowered his voice. "How does it feel to fight for the country that once enslaved you? Including… your chosen lover."
Hector thought, choosing his words carefully. "I don't see this as the same country that enslaved me. That country died the moment a human sat on its throne and tried to make it work for all its inhabitants, not just one or the other. That is what is worth defending. Besides, if I only fought for the side that never did me harm, I would fight for no one.
"Regarding Lenore," Hector continued, "no, it wasn't a match made in heaven. Not at all. I'll never forget what she did. But despite trial and treachery, a bond formed that neither could break. And you know what? We made it work. And it's imperfections will not stand in my way."
Codintero thought for a moment. "Love and loyalty, products of circumstance. I guess it's no different from the rest of us."
"What about you, minister?" Hector then asked. "On the topic of loyalty, how do you feel fighting men hired by the Papacy?"
A minute of silence elapsed. Then, he replied, "I've put my life on the line for far pettier matters in my youth. Contract, coin, and the steadfastness of my word still bind me to this land's service. Moreover," Codintero hesitated for a moment. "I must now question the current papacy's authority on matters such as the nature of vampiric souls, as I do the godliness of Christ's vicar sending a temporal enemy, human or otherwise, the head of her sister."
A flying night creature returned from its reconnaissance mission. The papal army had been sighted due west. They had already crossed out of Carinthia into Styria itself. On Codintero's command, the Styrian army adjusted its course. Friendly sources provided more information. A tense air descended on the army, as men and vampires alike glanced to comrades and wondered who would still stand in a week's time.
Before long, the enemy came into view, positioned on the slope of a small hill outside the village of Kloster. As the mirrors had indicated, the papal army slightly outnumbered his own, perhaps eight thousand to their seven. Men at arms and pikemen formed the main line. Crossbows and handgunners stood behind the melee soldiers, knights on the flanks, and lastly cannons in the rear. The mirrors had indicated that there were priests too among the ranks. Someone had instructed them on fighting the beings of the night.
The army formed up. Codintero organized Hector's night creatures by size. The largest beasts, sixty in total, moved to the flanks like superheavy cavalry. Medium sized creatures that would serve as shock troops advanced ahead of his main infantry line. The smallest ones, the flying creatures, stayed in the back along with Hector, Codintero, and his honor guard, to be deployed as needed as a flexible reserve.
Surveying the enemy one last time, Codintero turned to Hector again. ""Hector? May I make a request?"
"Yes?"
"Should I die, do not revive me as one of your…" Codintero looked at some of the heavier monsters. "creations."
"It really isn't that bad but… if you insist."
The Styrians advanced. For some time, the only sound was that of men and night creatures advancing. A mixture of calm and dread descended on Hector. He'd seen his creatures off into battle before. He'd never led them in person. They drew closer and closer to the enemy position. The papal army remained motionless, even as the individual men became discernable.
When the Styrians were within a thousand yards, the papal artillery suddenly opened fire. With a loud boom, a volley of cannonballs rained down around Hector, smashing any man or vampire alike in their path. Shouts and screams filled the air as even several night creatures fell. In the distance, the knights began to charge forward, their armor glinting in the distance.
"Double time!" yelled Codintero as a shell landed just meters away. Men, vampires, and night creatures picked up their pace into a near run. Turning towards Hector, he then ordered, "Have your big monsters stop the cavalry! If they get behind us, they'll double back and destroy us from the rear."
"Got it!" Hector relayed an unspoken command to his creations. With a bellowing roar, his larger night creatures charged forward. Hulking yet fast beasts the size of small elephants, they slammed into the galloping knights midfield and tore into their ranks. Shielding their heads instinctively as another cannon barrage rained down around them, Hector and Codintero watched from afar as the night creatures broke the enemy cavalry's momentum. Massive jaws crushed armor on men and horse alike. Swords inflicted but superficial wounds on their tough hides The knights broke off, wheeled around, and charged back into the creatures, slamming their lances into any seeming weak points they spotted. Several creatures slumped to the ground, lifeless, as did several more as the papacy's handgunners advanced forward and opened fire. The night creatures still completely outclassed their foes and continued to inflict casualties.
By now the Styrians were close enough now to see the faces of the enemy soldiers. The mid-sized creatures charged ahead from the Styrian lines towards the papal mercenaries, whose ranged soldiers raced back behind pikemen lowering their spears. On the flanks, the heavy night creatures finally broke the knights' morale. The surviving ones on the left side retreated back to guard their own army's flank, while those on the right outright routed and fled. Hector had the heavy night creatures on the right pursue their fleeing foes, while those on the left joined the main charge. He instinctively expected to see them smash through the papal lines or even cause them to flee in terror as so had often been described in field reports while serving Dracula, but to his growing disconcertment, the enemy didn't budge.
Then suddenly, as his largest creations were mere seconds from the enemy line, their cannons turned and fired point blank, killing or crippling most of them. Their hides, however tough, were no match against heavy stone and iron balls shot out at once-unimaginable speeds. A fire breathing creature prepared to incinerate the left end of the papal line, only for a red-hot cannon-bullet to strike directly into its mouth. Its insides exploded, tearing it apart and grievously wounding the remaining heavy creatures sent against the papal line. The smaller creatures charged onwards, but soon they too met arquebus and crossbow fire that thinned their ranks. Their large bodies made for easy targets. Hector watched in growing horror as his children of the forge fell. From afar, he could see that at least the crossbowmen were dipping their shot in what must have been holy water. Those that survived enemy fire hurled themselves onto the enemy pikes and entrenched wooden stakes, but here too, their own speed turned into their worst enemies, impaling themselves onto the braced wall of spikes. The ones that made it through were able to inflict notable casualties before being cut down, but by now the field was littered with dead and dying night creatures. Dying, as was their creator's old illusions of how war worked before a new, more disciplined reality.
Hector decided he had to take out those cannons. On his silent command, the flying night creatures in the rear took to their wings and soared into the sky. Flying towards the rear of the papal line, they dived down onto the artillery positions. The cannoneers were loading their weapons for another barrage when they saw the monsters racing towards them, but before they could run to the safety of the melee infantry, Hector's night creatures were already upon them and began to tear them apart. Flesh ripped. Screams rang out. The ranged troops turned around mid-reloading and fired wild shots at the creatures, but their poorly aimed fire did more to infuriate than injure Hector's creatures. Finishing off the artillery crews, they turned their attention to their new attackers and tore into the ranged soldiers. They were barely better able to defend themselves than the artillerymen, but just as they began to waver, the Papal commander rallied the surviving knights of the left flank and charged into the night creatures' rear, killing several immediately. Another, more precise volley rained down from the ranged soldiers not in the creatures' paths. Pikemen broke off from the back of their ranks. Hector had the creatures withdraw before they suffered the same fate as their larger counterparts. They flew back to Hector and Codintero's side, lead shot whizzing past them.
The main infantry lines finally collided. Swords clashed, pikemen thrusted their weapons, the sounds of hand to hand combat filled the air. The fighting slowed from the frenetic pace of the charge to the grislier slog of prolonged melee. The day-armored vampires in the center of the Styrian line used their superior strength to gain the advantage over their human adversaries, ripping halberds from the wielder's hands, snapping pike shafts, and sundering crude munitions armor with their own weapons. However, on the flanks, the Styrian humans, lacking in experience and stunted in growth by years of blood taxes, struggled against the trained Italian mercenaries opposing them. The line of battle almost bent into a shallow U-shape.
"What do we make of this?" Hector asked Codintero as they watched, flanked by their guards. He had his heavy creatures pursuing the fleeing enemy cavalry break off back towards the main battle. It would be some time before they arrived back though.
"It's down to who breaks first," he replied, "Unless…" His eyes shifted to the battle's edges and then widened. The papal crossbowmen and handgunners were advancing to the side of the Styrian line. "Hector, get your monsters to the flank immediately! Their ranged soldiers are preparing to enfilade us!"
"What!?"
"Cut us down from the sides! Where are your heavy creatures!?"
"Still returning from their pursuit of the knights. The flying ones are available."
"Okay then. Move them, for Christ's sake!"
"Understood!" Hector willed his creatures into action as Codintero himself and his honor guard leapt into action. The flying night creatures took to the skies once more and swooped down on the Papacy's ranged troops as they were taking aim. Before they could react, the monsters were already upon them, tearing into their ranks. Claws tore into flesh. Wild shots flew into the air. Codintero himself reached them not long after. His horse plowed into two men and trampled them underfoot before he decapitated a third with his sword. The sorely outmatched ranged troops wavered and broke, running for their lives.
There was no time to celebrate. Looking the other way, Hector saw the center of the Styrian line suddenly buckle. The Papal melee troops had taken the barrels of holy water for the crossbowmen and began to splash them on the day armored vampires, using helmets, waterskins, anything else on hand as buckets to hurl. Their suits blocked most but not all of the water, and what managed to seep in scorched them within their suits, sending them reeling. Hector rode over to Codintero as fast as he could and alerted him. "Sir, the center's cracking!"
Codintero looked over and saw the danger. He rallied his honor guard from the fleeing ranged soldiers, leaving the flying night creatures to handle them. "Get your hammer out Hector, we're going in!"
"Are you serious!?" yelled Hector.
"Yes, blast it! No questions! Charge!"
Thrusting his sword towards the enemy, he led his guard as well as Hector in a charge into the papal line's flank. They smashed into the side, trampling swordsmen and throwing aside pikemen before they had a chance to re-orient their polearms. Dismounting their steads, they brandished their weapons as the papal troops regrouped and ran back towards them. Parrying the mace of a papal footman, Codintero used a series of strikes to throw him off balance before driving his sword into his heart, then pulled out and stabbed a man-at-arms through the bottom of his helmet. The sight of their general helped stiffen the resolve of the Styrian soldiers, but it also had the same effect on the enemy. Codintero set his eyes on a third soldier, when suddenly the blow of a poleax to the back of his cuirass sent him reeling. It didn't penetrate the steel backplate but knocked him to the ground. His assailant raised his weapon up to deliver a killing blow, when suddenly Hector's hammer swung into view and caved in the man's crude munitions armor breastplate. The mercenary fell over dying, and then a blue light enveloped him as he transformed into a new night creature, turning on his former allies. The creature tore through several more soldiers, giving Codintero time to get back to his feet, but just as it seemed like it might shred the papal unit apart from within, a man speared it through the neck with his pike. It slumped down as another soldier engaged Hector. The vulnerable forgemaster desperately tried to parry and deflect his sword strikes with his hammer's handle, when out of nowhere the blade of one of Codintero's honor guards decapitated the soldier.
Despite their efforts, the men on the papal flank rallied and began to pick off more and more of Codintero's honor guard, until it was just him, Hector, and a few of his most trusted men surrounded. As they backed against one another, they heard a loud roar in the distance and looked up. The heavy night creatures had returned. With an enraged bellow, they plowed into the rear of the papal lines. The soldiers surrounding Hector and Codintero turned around in horror as their comrades tried in vain to fight back, only to be crushed. Men-at-arms were tossed like ragdolls, others eaten alive or gored on immense tusks and horns. One of the night creatures, a centaur like beast, changed course towards its forgemaster, grabbed one of the papal mercenaries, and used him as a club to smash his other assailants. The papal line wavered and crumbled as men panicked and fled for their lives. Only the rearguard action of a unit of halberdiers saved some of the army from complete destruction. Of the eight thousand mercenaries the Holy Sea dispatched, only half must have escaped death or capture. Hector and Codintero's men took heavy losses too, with well over nine hundred casualties including many heavy and medium sized night creatures, but the day still belonged to Styria. For a period of time, the humans, vampires and even night creatures in its service celebrated as one.
Hector did not take part in any celebrations though. Instead, he looked upon the field at his fallen night creatures. Night creatures were born as weapons of war, but at the same time, they were his children. And he couldn't help but mourn them as such. Perhaps Isaac had more experience seeing his creations die. But Hector did not.
His eyes turned to the other corpses on the ground. They lay across the field. His mind turned to forging. Some of the Styrian humans were already beginning to bury their own dead. On the other side, the fallen on the Papal side lay unattended, but the night creature charge that ended the battle had mangled many of their dead far below the usual standard of cadavers he preferred to work with. Still, there were useable bodies on both sides, and to let them be would be a waste.
Hector set his eyes on a fallen Styrian human footman. A wound to his neck indicated how he met his end. He pulled out his battered but still useable hammer and raised it into the air, but before he could bring it down, someone put a hand on his shoulder and gruffly said. "Stop."
The forgemaster turned around and saw a stern-looking Codintero, still in his battle armor. "Why?" protested Hector. "We need to replenish our losses, don't we?"
"Not with these corpses." The Italian mercenary captain pointed to the Styrians preparing to bury their dead. "See those men?"
"What about them?"
"To those men, the idea of being reborn as a night creature is a fate worse than death itself."
"That's completely baseless," Hector retorted. "You saw FlysEyes. He is content as he is."
"Baseless or not, they will mutiny if you touch their fallen comrades." Codintero pointed a finger towards the mangled bodies of the papal dead. "If you must forge, use them."
"But that will produce inferior creatures. A night creature's quality is determined in large part by the quality of the corpse its forgemaster uses to create it."
Codintero seemed unmoved. "So be it. Better that than a rebellion within our ranks." He began to walk away. "Also, as a favor, try to make them as human and non-demonic looking as possible. I suspect we may be using some of them as garrisons as we retake the province."
Later, the two men used their distance mirror to report the victory to Isaac. The shards rose up and revealed the forgemaster king in his camp. "Our forces met those of the papal states, and the day belongs to Styria, Your Highness," Codintero said.
"Very good. Lady Lenore is working to secure the neutrality of other Italian states, and this victory will help her immensely. What's left of the enemy in Carinthia?"
"Perhaps four thousand papal troops are still at large, plus any sympathetic local garrisons. They'll probably try to regroup in the walled towns and forts. We'll deal with them."
The king said nothing but stroked his chin thoughtfully. Hector spoke up. "How are things on the northern front?"
King Isaac snorted and clenched his fist. "Not great, not terrible. The imperial army has a foothold in Styria, but we've halted their advance. For now."
"Forgive my insolence," interjected Codintero, "but can you elaborate?"
Isaac hesitated, as if somewhat embarrassed and said, "While my flying creatures were away to wreak havoc in their heartland, the enemy occupied the hills above our camp and rained down hellfire from their bombards. Without our aerial support we weren't able to dislodge them from their perch, but were to inflict casualties and pull back to a more defensible position. I'm recalling my flying creatures back to our ranks, and the distance mirror indicates that the other side is also waiting for reinforcements from the rest of the empire."
A pause, and then Isaac concluded, eyes filled with grim determination. "Here are your orders. Mop up the remnants of the papal invaders, resecure Carinthia and its defenses, and then march back north as soon as possible!"
This chapter was initially going to be somewhat longer, but I decided to split the final bit off into its own chapter. Someone better versed in military history could probably poke dozens of holes in how the battle played out, but at the same time, I also understand that the relative strength of the combatants may seem jarringly different from the way fights played out in the actual show. So, I'll let those two issues cancel each other out :)