Chapter 61: Breaking Through (Part I)

Over the next few days, the situation in Fort Kalke grew increasingly precarious. A growing number of scattered enemy forces lingered in the villages surrounding the castle, and every day a detachment of enemy soldiers would ride up to the gates to hurl insults and issue challenges. Although the garrison strictly obeyed orders and kept the gates firmly shut, the relentless verbal abuse left the defenders boiling with suppressed rage.

On the third afternoon after the convoy's arrival at Fort Kalke, dozens of enemy soldiers appeared outside the walls as usual. This time, they were not merely shouting challenges; they were herding more than a dozen elderly people, women, and children captured from neighboring villages.

These dozen innocent civilians were forced to their knees roughly one hundred and fifty paces outside the castle gates. Behind them stood seven or eight topless soldiers holding sharp blades, wicked grins plastered across their faces. They casually pressed and drew their swords and axes against the captives' necks, reducing the kneeling peasants to a flood of tears, snot, and ceaseless, agonizing screams.

A few enemy cavalrymen galloped forward, showing off their arrogance right in front of the gates of Fort Kalke. They tossed severed limbs about wantonly, pointing and mocking the men on the walls at the top of their lungs. When no one on the ramparts responded, they galloped back to the civilians and slit their throats one by one with short daggers.

Desolate and desperate cries echoed outside the fortress. The shrill screams tore at everyone's heartstrings, and every face on the city wall darkened with fury.

Baron Ber里昂 stood behind the battlements, his knuckles cracking as he clenched his fists so hard they groaned.

"Those beasts! My lord, let me lead a sortie and slaughter them!" One of the knights beside Baron Ber里昂 could no longer bear the humiliation before his eyes.

The enemy force outside numbered fewer than thirty, none wore heavy armor, and there were only five cavalrymen. It seemed an easy task to defeat them.

"Yve, haven't you noticed anything unusual today?" Baron Ber里昂 asked the grinding-toothed knight beside him.

Knight Yve was too consumed by rage at the slaughter of the Provençal civilians before their eyes to notice the enemy's subtle changes today. He raised his head and looked at the hostile troops.

"My lord, the bulk of their cavalry is missing."

"Their cavalry is undoubtedly lying in wait behind. The moment you lead your men out, they will charge. Therefore, we must continue to endure."

Knight Yve pointed to the civilians being slaughtered outside the city and then to the reddened eyes of the soldiers along the ramparts, roaring, "Are we just going to stand by and watch those bastards massacre our people? My lord, this is an utter disgrace!"

Baron Ber里昂 glanced sideways at the knight and growled in a low voice, "Losing Fort Kalke would be an utter disgrace. If you ride out now and get surrounded by cavalry, should I lead my troops out to rescue you? If I fall into an ambush as well, who will defend this castle? Aosta is besieged, and if we cannot secure a retreat for Aosta, the tens of thousands of soldiers and civilians within the city will be the ones facing slaughter."

"Then we are just going to watch?"

Baron Ber里昂 lowered his head in silent contemplation for a moment before saying, "Go quietly and summon all the archers and crossbowmen. Let loose a volley of crossbow fire—kill as many as you can..."

***

Inside Fort Kalke, Art was training the soldiers of the border patrol. Naturally, he was also assisting Baron Ber里昂 in drilling the newly recruited troops.

Most of these new recruits had previously been citizens and farmers. Art, Odo, and the others had to teach them hands-on how to hold a spear and sword, how to use a shield, and how to evade incoming blades, axes, and pikes.

Since the day the convoy arrived at Fort Kalke to deliver grain, the employment contract between Baron Ber里昂 and the border patrol had officially ended. However, with enemy soldiers constantly appearing near Fort Kalke over the past two days, the patrol could not safely traverse the war zone with a dozen wagons and their drivers. Consequently, Art was forced to stay at Fort Kalke and await an opportunity. Baron Ber里昂 provided free board and lodging for both the patrol and the convoy, and in return, Art agreed to help the baron train the new recruits, sparing the baron from pulling men off the ramparts for training.

Seeing Knight Yve leading seven or eight crossbowmen stealthily making their way up the ramparts, Art intercepted the hastily passing knight. "Sir Yve, what is happening?"

"Art, the baron has ordered me to take the crossbowmen up the wall and shoot the enemy soldiers outside."

For days at Fort Kalke, Baron Ber里昂 had turned a blind eye to the provocative enemy troops outside, but today he intended to strike back.

"Ron, put on your armor and come with me to the wall to see." Art decided to go up and take a look.

***

Upon reaching the battlements, the slaughter outside had ceased. The ground was slick with pools of brownish-red blood, and a dozen corpses lay scattered haphazardly.

Seven or eight crossbowmen crept stealthily beneath the parapet, peering out through the crenellations. A distance of one hundred and fifty paces—over two hundred yards—was not out of range for a crossbow. Crouching behind the wall in a single file, they cranked their windlasses to draw the strings and placed specially crafted round-headed short bolts into the grooves. Beside them, Baron Ber里昂 picked up a horn composite bow, tied a red silk ribbon to a light arrow, drew the string to its limit, and loosed it in a high parabolic arc toward the enemy outside. The light arrow soared into the sky, shrinking to a dark speck before plunging down to land a few dozen paces in front of the enemy. Seeing such a featherlight arrow drift down from the ramparts, the enemy soldiers burst into mocking laughter.

Behind the parapet, the crossbow sergeant poked his head out to observe the red ribbon fluttering in the wind, crouched slightly, and elevated his crossbow at a slight angle. The seven crossbowmen beside him mirrored his movement, raising the tips of their weapons accordingly.

"Ready—"

"Loose!"

A sharp twanging chorus snapped from behind the wall.

Eight heavy crossbow bolts suddenly surged past the rampart, angled steeply into the sky...

The enemy formation was still chuckling.

Yet when the seven or eight black specks plunged from the heavens, the laughter died instantly. The eight heavy bolts downed three soldiers in a flash, while a warhorse, struck in the neck, reared violently and threw its rider from the saddle.

The show was far from over. While the enemy soldiers were still scrambling to locate the source of the ambush, the crossbows behind the wall had already been cranked and loaded with new bolts.

*Twang, twang, twang—!*

Another eight heavy bolts hissed through the air. This time, the enemy scattered in all directions, and the bolts struck only a single soldier.

Now it was the turn of the soldiers on the city walls to roar with laughter. Days of pent-up anger were poured into those heavy bolts sent flying toward the enemy.

"Alright, crossbowmen cease firing. Conserve your ammunition."

Art knew that crossbows possessed tremendous range and power, but maintaining such precision beyond two hundred yards was a rare sight indeed.

"Baron Ber里昂, your crossbowmen are truly formidable," Art praised sincerely.

Knight Yve smiled and said to Art, "Brother Art, these crossbowmen were personally trained by my lord. Like our archers, every single one of them is an expert marksman."

Having witnessed Baron Ber里昂's archery skills firsthand, Art privately admitted that his own marksmanship still fell short of the baron's.

Watching the cavalry charging out from a mile away outside the walls, Baron Ber里昂 turned to Art and said, "Art, tonight is the time for you to leave. If you miss tonight, I am afraid it will not be so easy for you to escape."

Seeing that Art had not fully grasped his meaning, Baron Ber里昂 pointed outside and explained, "The enemy forces have begun concentrating around us over the past two days. I suspect that because their siege of Aosta failed a couple of days ago, they now intend to launch a direct assault on Fort Kalke."

"You must break out before the enemy completely surrounds Fort Kalke."

Art's face was etched with worry. Lombard infantry guarded the perimeter while cavalry patrolled the area; how could he lead a score of soldiers and over a dozen heavily loaded wagons with numerous drivers safely through the encirclement?

"You need not worry. I will not let you break out alone. Yesterday I received orders from Aosta. Tonight, we will launch a raid on the enemy's camp outside the walls to disrupt their deployment. You can use the gap we tear open to slip away."

Comprehending the baron's intention, Art replied, "Thank you, my lord!"

***

The humid, sultry heat of a summer night shrouded the small city in central Provence. Along the merchant road outside the city, a dozen wagons carried scores of dark-clad soldiers and drivers.

About a mile ahead of this convoy, more than twenty cavalrymen were quietly leading their horses toward an open clearing beside the northern merchant road.

Because Fort Kalke's garrison consisted primarily of infantry, cavalry was scarce. Yet only such a raid could create enough chaos in the enemy camp for the border patrol to pierce the Lombard defensive lines. Knowing the garrison's shortage of horsemen, Art, accompanied by Ron and Jason, had volunteered to join Baron Ber里昂's raiding party.

It was the first time Ron and Jason were participating in combat of this true magnitude. To them, a force of over twenty horsemen constituted a formidable cavalry array. Despite their nervousness, Ron was deeply excited.

Leading his horse with muffled hooves, he followed closely behind Art, not daring to make the slightest sound. Before departure, Baron Ber里昂 had repeatedly warned them that the key to a night raid was achieving victory through surprise. Should the enemy detect them beforehand and prepare, more than twenty cavalrymen would leave half their corpses behind in the hostile camp.

Jason felt much the same as Ron. Sweat had already soaked through his linen tunic, and his friction-slicked leather armor emitted faint, creaking sounds.

"Commander Ron, shortly I will follow the lord and you—" Jason was near the breaking point of nervous tension; if he didn't speak, he felt he might suffocate.

"Hush! Silence!" Ron turned his head and hissed in a low voice.

Swallowing hard, Jason patted his horse's neck, gripped the battle-axe tucked at his waist, and strode swiftly to keep up with the column.

Beneath a hillside five miles north of Fort Kalke, over twenty military tents were pitched. Scouts had confirmed that one hundred and eighty-some Lombard soldiers were stationed here. The quiet posture maintained by Fort Kalke over the past few days had lowered the enemy's vigilance; they never imagined the castle garrison would dare sally forth for a night raid.

Knight Yve personally led four soldiers in a low crawl, stealthily maneuvering to within a dozen paces behind the sentries on the hillside. With a sudden shout, the men sprang from the ground, lunged at the two sentries, and ran them through with their swords.

The bright moonlight overhead made stealth difficult, and their execution was not quite swift enough. The sentries spotted the ambush and let out a piercing shriek before dying, a cry that echoed straight into the encampment below the slope—

"All men mount horses, charge with me!"

At Baron Ber里昂's command, the twenty-odd cavalrymen vaulted into their saddles simultaneously.

Mounting his horse, Art glanced back through the hazy night toward the merchant road behind him, where a faint column of dark shadows was hurrying northward.

"Ron, Jason, both of you must stay close to me. After the initial charge, break straight for the north."

"Understood!"

The three of them drove their heels hard into their horses' flanks, and with a shrill whinny, the steeds surged toward the hillside...