Road To The Crown 82 Firing

18th march 1574

"Fire!"

In any other scenario, such command would cause the entire area to shake under the force of powerful thunder coming out of numerable barrels of musketeers lining up in a rows, only to turn silent for as long as it would take them to reload and shoot again or give s.p.a.ce for the volley of their enemies. Yet in this case, instead of singular and ear-cracking hailstorm of death, the sound was way gentler, yet its continuous staccato that didn't stop for good two minutes hailed the appearance of way deadlier age than what any of the former tactics could bring forth.

As if a grim reaper swung his scythe through the land, the targets were not only falling down under the onslaught of the invisible hand as they were supposed to do upon being hit by the bullet, but they were bursting into messy parts, littering the open field.

"Reaper one, last mag!"

With the auxiliary soldier stationed at the nest of the first gun, amply named reaper in the bout of my poetical inspiration, reporting the set command, the group at the other gun, stationed just a few meters away on another carriage supported by the poles holding it from the side opposite to the line of fire, instantly moved into action.

Making sure the magazines were properly locked, the muzzles of the gun aimed in the general direction of the targets, and all ten fuses properly lit. It didn't sound like much, but doing so in the short span of barely four seconds that the first team would take to empty out the last magazines proved to be quite challenging.

"Reaper one, out!"

Despite signalling with his voice that the first group was out of ammo, the situation at their carriage didn't grind to a halt. Instead, everyone rushed to the emptied magazines lying at the bottom of their vehicle. Out of the ten that were initially loaded, only four were still inside the carriage, with the rest of them already pa.s.sed by the auxiliary soldier to the loading team behind the carriage, keeping the live ammo safely away from the potential sparks flying off the firing gun.

"Fire!"

With less than a second in between the report of the gun crew and the officer's order, the second nest started firing, laying down death to everything that could still move on the field.

That is if the straw targets that the servants that accompanied us on our way were ever mobile in the first place!

Travelling with a properly armed unit finally taught me why all the wars in the past were happening so slow. With only seventy people ready to fight, the number of servants required to set the camp, move the wares, guide the carriages and take care of all the other matters that neither the n.o.bles nor the veterans could dirty their hands with actually was greater than the number of actual warriors!

And just like in the vicious circle, the more servants and warriors one brought with them, the more provisions were required to feed everyone which lead to even more carriages required to move the entire group around, forcing me to hire even more coachmen and servants that would help them out…

If not for the fact that the distance was relatively short, I think I would already give up on the whole idea of fighting Peter!

This situation also taught me about how heavy and immobile group like mine was. Setting the camp required time, feeding the horses required time, feeding the men themselves required time… Everything required f.u.c.king time!

The distance that I hoped to cover in a matter of two, maybe three hours, ended up as the final reach of my unit for today, even though the sun was barely reaching the line of the horizon!

"Calm down… Here, have some beer."

Approaching my seat on a small hill behind the place where I used the remaining visibility of the day to at least turn some of the ammunition into an experience for my soldiers, Elia pa.s.sed me a cup filled with the familiar aroma. While this beer was my current source of the most profits in the entire domain, I couldn't give up on drinking it myself on such a grand occasion! After all, the profits from a single barrel that I brought with me on this small campaign wouldn't be that big to really bother myself with it!

"What do you mean, calm down? Don't you see how happy I am? With all the worries that the soldiers wouldn't be able to adapt to this new weapon… Just look at them!"

Pointing with my hand already holding the cup at the group of barely twenty soldiers continuously firing the guns in short intervals required to cool the barrels down, I actually felt quite a bit of pride. While those reaper guns still required quite a bit of working around them in order to fire in such an orderly manner, for the people used to multistep process of reloading normal guns from the front, this was apparently not a challenge!

"Don't give me that. I can see it from your face. Something is bothering you."

Completely ignoring what I said, Elia sat on top of my lap and rested her back on my chest. With her head turned slightly to the side, I was still able to drink, yet doing so would stop me from spectating the training of my troops.

"Okay, okay. I just can't help it but be anxious about our speed. What if Peter decides to use his own mobility to meet us somewhere on the road? If there will be people nearby during our clash, those guns can do them harm. You saw yourself how far they can shoot!"

The whole point of defeating Peter and connecting Tarnow to Pilzno was in connecting those two cities and integrating all the villages and smaller towns inside my own sphere of influence. If our fight were to cause death amongst the civilians, I would be in for countless uprisings, as all of my serfs would lose their faith in me!

"Tell me, do you have any influence over what that b.a.s.t.a.r.d will do?"

As if reluctant to even call Peter by his name, Elia moved slightly around, adjusting her position on my lap. With her head resting right on top of my shoulder, even though her voice was rather silent, I could still understand what she spoke despite the continuous thunder coming out from the shooting field.

"No. Or rather, outside of provoking him into a grand battle, as long as we can call that a clash of less than two hundred of people, I'm unable to even predict what he will try."

There was no point denying this fact. No matter all my knowledge, system and modern mentality, there was no way to predict how my very first enemy would react to my own movements. Beliving that he would be ignorant towards my advance would be stupid, with how slow and ma.s.sive this group of mine was, yet I was unable to implement any real countermeasures stopping him from leaving the city!

"Then why bother with it? Why bother with something you can't change?"