Jourmungrad
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Wonderful chapter thank you.
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The Lion of France (A historial self insert)
- Thread starter Rolando Rivas
- Start date
ATP
Well worn.
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It was also best army in Europe,they defeated both Ottomans and Habsburgs.And his son indeed was illegitimate - but,if he get french princess and pope legitimate him...popes do not liked Habsburgs in those times.And you need Hungary as Austria enemy.
Heros-Venator
Not too sore, are you?
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Funny I was just watching the first season of Medici, Masters of Florence. Might be interesting to have a little crossover.
Horus Lupercal
Primarch of the Luna Wolves,and the Warmaster
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Nice story but its reads wrongly and needs a beta reader if you wish i have some free time and can beta read your current or future chapters
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Rolando Rivas
Making the rounds.
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Chapter 8
Rolando Rivas
Making the rounds.
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- Likes received
- 492
Charles VII, King of France.
Chartres, 1 October 1484
Louis of Orleans had encamped on outside the city of Orleans and had declared himself Duke of Anjou and king of France.
There had apparently been a number of skirmishes around Mortagne in Perche as the cities of the dukedom of perche stood with their king, figuring out that, rightly, that should Orleans manage to win the war, he will impose nobles who would impose onerous taxes on their Business and he would repeal their long-held privileges.
I rested my forces for two days in the city of Montfort before continuing my march towards city of Chartres.
It was a four-day march along the royal road and we made contact with a scouting party of the rebel army made up of the Cavalry of Angoulême one day away from the city of Chartres.
These outriders were knights , around 100 of them, were equipped with full armor. I ordered my Special Forces to deal with them.
When two squads of my hunters accompanied by two squads of my cuirassiers broke away from the column, I was finally able to observe the effects of my reforms.
The knights of Angoulême formed in a wedge, as knights had trained to do since their adolescence, with the intention of cutting through the formation of the royal troops, less equipped than they were.
Their bravado lasted until the first pistol volley by my hunters slammed into the front ranks of the Angoulême Cavalry, their plate armor offered no proctection against the bullets as the wedge collapsed in on itself as the frontmost tip of the spear died and the ranks further back suddenly had the obstacle of dead men and horses to steer around.
When they finally managed to do that and began to reform into a smaller wedge, my cuirassiers pounded their formation with their spears and scattered them. Many died in the charge and when the more maneuverable cavalry made up of the hunters took advantage of their speed and the more cumbersome formation of the enemies to positioned themselves on their flank and fired a new volley and they retired; The rebel knights began to flee when they observed another charge coming from the cuirassiers' long spears.
Those that fled got a second pistol volley to their back for their troubles. Only around twenty of the one hundred outriders made it off the field. We captured some thirty who surrendered, having taken wounds but non mortal ones.
The rest lay dead. In exchange we took some ten cuirassiers dead and five wounded, no hunter was injured. The Method, it seemed, worked.
I ordered a white flag to be raised as we approached the vanguard of the rebel army. Constable Bourbon, General Trémoille, and I rode out to parley in the middle of the field. The leaders of the rebel army came to meet us: the Duke of Brittany, my cousin the Duke of Orleans, and the Count of Angoulême.
With the exception of Lorraine this was the political muscle of the rebellious nobles of France. If they fell, surrendered, or were captured, the faction would be leaderless and easily broken up over the summer.
I met them halfway across the field between both armies. "My Lords, Surely they see that they are wrong? I am the true King of France by divine right and the eldest of the Capetian dynasty by my Valois blood, they can't deny it." I said.
It was clear that the others were waiting for Orleans to speak. And speak he did. "Your grandfather was a bastard, you sully the throne of France when you sit on it, and your reforms are from a tyrant who plans to oppress us with his army and take land from the brave nobles of France." He sneered.
I sighed, "If that is your answer, then we have nothing more to discuss." I said, turning my horse around and spurring it back to my lines
Chartres, 1 October 1484
Louis of Orleans had encamped on outside the city of Orleans and had declared himself Duke of Anjou and king of France.
There had apparently been a number of skirmishes around Mortagne in Perche as the cities of the dukedom of perche stood with their king, figuring out that, rightly, that should Orleans manage to win the war, he will impose nobles who would impose onerous taxes on their Business and he would repeal their long-held privileges.
I rested my forces for two days in the city of Montfort before continuing my march towards city of Chartres.
It was a four-day march along the royal road and we made contact with a scouting party of the rebel army made up of the Cavalry of Angoulême one day away from the city of Chartres.
These outriders were knights , around 100 of them, were equipped with full armor. I ordered my Special Forces to deal with them.
When two squads of my hunters accompanied by two squads of my cuirassiers broke away from the column, I was finally able to observe the effects of my reforms.
The knights of Angoulême formed in a wedge, as knights had trained to do since their adolescence, with the intention of cutting through the formation of the royal troops, less equipped than they were.
Their bravado lasted until the first pistol volley by my hunters slammed into the front ranks of the Angoulême Cavalry, their plate armor offered no proctection against the bullets as the wedge collapsed in on itself as the frontmost tip of the spear died and the ranks further back suddenly had the obstacle of dead men and horses to steer around.
When they finally managed to do that and began to reform into a smaller wedge, my cuirassiers pounded their formation with their spears and scattered them. Many died in the charge and when the more maneuverable cavalry made up of the hunters took advantage of their speed and the more cumbersome formation of the enemies to positioned themselves on their flank and fired a new volley and they retired; The rebel knights began to flee when they observed another charge coming from the cuirassiers' long spears.
Those that fled got a second pistol volley to their back for their troubles. Only around twenty of the one hundred outriders made it off the field. We captured some thirty who surrendered, having taken wounds but non mortal ones.
The rest lay dead. In exchange we took some ten cuirassiers dead and five wounded, no hunter was injured. The Method, it seemed, worked.
I ordered a white flag to be raised as we approached the vanguard of the rebel army. Constable Bourbon, General Trémoille, and I rode out to parley in the middle of the field. The leaders of the rebel army came to meet us: the Duke of Brittany, my cousin the Duke of Orleans, and the Count of Angoulême.
With the exception of Lorraine this was the political muscle of the rebellious nobles of France. If they fell, surrendered, or were captured, the faction would be leaderless and easily broken up over the summer.
I met them halfway across the field between both armies. "My Lords, Surely they see that they are wrong? I am the true King of France by divine right and the eldest of the Capetian dynasty by my Valois blood, they can't deny it." I said.
It was clear that the others were waiting for Orleans to speak. And speak he did. "Your grandfather was a bastard, you sully the throne of France when you sit on it, and your reforms are from a tyrant who plans to oppress us with his army and take land from the brave nobles of France." He sneered.
I sighed, "If that is your answer, then we have nothing more to discuss." I said, turning my horse around and spurring it back to my lines
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Information 3
Rolando Rivas
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OPPOSING ARMIES
Royal Army: 18,000 troops
- Left flank: 1,000 chasseurs and 1,000 cuirassiers led by Louis II of Trémoille, Viscount of Thouars
- Center of the army: two lines of infantry, the first made up of 6000 infantry troops from the nobility, and the second by 6,000 armored pikemen, led by the king and Renato of Valois, Duke of Alençon.
- Right flank: 1,000 armored knights, 2,000 arquebusiers, 1000 infantry troops from the nobility and 20 cannons (15 6-pounders and 5 12-pounders). Led by John II of Bourbon, Duke of Bourbon.
Rebel Army: 20,000 troops
- Left flank: 1500 armored knights and 1000 villain knights and light cavalry, 2000 infantry troops from the nobility led by Charles of Orleans, Count of Angoulême, Second in command John II of Burgundy, Count of Rethel
- Center of the army: two lines of infantry of 6,500 soldiers each, the various infantry troops of the nobility. Led by Francis II of Brittany, Duke of Brittany.
- Right flank: 2,500 armored knights led by Louis II of Orleans, Duke of Orleans; Second in command Amalric IV, Viscount of Châtellerault.
Royal Army: 18,000 troops
- Left flank: 1,000 chasseurs and 1,000 cuirassiers led by Louis II of Trémoille, Viscount of Thouars
- Center of the army: two lines of infantry, the first made up of 6000 infantry troops from the nobility, and the second by 6,000 armored pikemen, led by the king and Renato of Valois, Duke of Alençon.
- Right flank: 1,000 armored knights, 2,000 arquebusiers, 1000 infantry troops from the nobility and 20 cannons (15 6-pounders and 5 12-pounders). Led by John II of Bourbon, Duke of Bourbon.
Rebel Army: 20,000 troops
- Left flank: 1500 armored knights and 1000 villain knights and light cavalry, 2000 infantry troops from the nobility led by Charles of Orleans, Count of Angoulême, Second in command John II of Burgundy, Count of Rethel
- Center of the army: two lines of infantry of 6,500 soldiers each, the various infantry troops of the nobility. Led by Francis II of Brittany, Duke of Brittany.
- Right flank: 2,500 armored knights led by Louis II of Orleans, Duke of Orleans; Second in command Amalric IV, Viscount of Châtellerault.
Chapter 9
Rolando Rivas
Making the rounds.
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Battle of Chartres (Part One)
Chartres Plain
Charles had arranged an attack formation. Ahead of the heavy pikemen, in the front line, were the infantry recruited by the nobility, a complex amalgamation of different counties and dukedoms, nonetheless a brutal fighting force. The king placed Alençon in command of the nobility's infantry.
On the left flank of the royal army, Charles placed Trémoille's cavalry so that it faced the Orléans heavy cavalry, while on the right flank , Bourbon, as constable of France, commanded part of the heavy cavalry, with the arquebusiers, along with several cannons that were thus facing the Angoulême cavalry.
At last, Charles had arranged the special units of hunters just behind Trémoille's cavalry. That was the new weapon he had conceived. He could have spread the hunters behind both cavalry, but he decided to mass them for use behind Trémoille's forces.
The armored knights of Orleans were, without a doubt, his greatest fear. The hunters were completely hidden by Trémoille's cuirassiers. Facing them, Francisco had positioned himself just behind his own rebel infantry, whom he had placed in the center to stop the advance of the royal infantry.
He had the support of the Orléans cavalry at one end and the Angoulême knights at the other to protect the flanks. The forces of both armies, at a rate of about 20,000 troops each, were equal, since the rebels had regrouped all the contingents that they had dispersed throughout the region.
Francisco did not feel comfortable in that equality of forces, but the damned king had left him no other choice but to fight.
For his part, the Angoulême watched the cavalry in front of him with a grim expression, while, at the other end of the plain, Orleans and Amalric discussed the best strategy to follow. "We'll charge forward, slowly," Orleans said.
Our armor will give us an advantage in close combat. Little by little we will gain ground and if they flee we can launch ourselves against their infantry from the rear. That will unbalance the combat. Amalric nodded. The proposal was logical, but he didn't know why, he sensed that the king would have already valued the superiority of the knight. "They look very confident," Amalric said. "They're peasants," Orleans commented as he adjusted his helmet, "they're only good for dying."
Right flank of the rebel army.
"Let's go," Orleans said. "Let's go," Amalric repeated. The noble heavy knights began to advance on the Chartres plain. The ground began to shake. "Shields up!" Orléans ordered. For a moment he thought that it would have been nice to have the support of the infantry, but still he was convinced that he would emerge victorious from that confrontation against the king's cuirassiers.
All the knights covered themselves with their defensive weapons. They knew that their spears are longer. There would be some casualties, but then... then it would be his turn. And they would have no mercy.
Left flank of the royal army
Lucio Trémoille emulated Orléans. He was already galloping on his horse, but instead of a short knight's lance, he clutched a mighty long cuirassier's spear. His enemies were the rebel armored knights of Orleans. He had to lash out at them from a distance taking advantage of their larger and longer spears.
In the melee they had the losing side. "All at my command!" Tremoille howled. Spears! Death or victory! Death or victory! And the cuirassiers, the best mounted unit of the royal troops, launched themselves against a stony, invincible, impossible enemy.
Left flank of the rebel army
John II of Burgundy, Count of Rethel, Prince of the Blood was not the royal heir, but that, like everything else, could change. It had only been three years since the death of the Orleans's eldest son, and with his absence, although Angoulême was next in line for succession, anything was possible, but for the king to decide to change the order of succession, John needed to show Orléans that he was the one who really knew how to fight, who could keep under his rule the immense domains of France, that previous kings had been slowly recovering, and not the impulsive and brush Angoulême.
No one likes to die thinking that everything they've fought for is going to be lost at the hands of a weak and crazy heir. John had to prove to his king that he was capable of holding the vast domains of the kingdom. That battle, he was sure, was a test that the king had designed, among many other things, in addition to ensuring the dominance of France, also to find out which of the two, Angoulême or himself, was the most suitable to succeed him. To him had fallen the honor of leading the great charge of knights from the left wing.
He knew it was risky and that is why Angoulême had not tried to take that position away from him by agreeing to stay with the diverse cavalry on that same flank, just behind the infantry, but John, daring, also knew that he could succeed and he was convinced that, if he swept through the ranks of the Duke of Bourbon, Louis's greatest enemy of all nobles, the king would be very generous to him.
That was why Rethel was willing to give his entrails if necessary, in this battle. The sun was beginning its slow ascent and the shadows were still long, stretching from right to left. Rethel took the helmet from a soldier and adjusted it snugly, tying the straps around his chin.
Next, he climbed into the great horse protected by thick metal plates. "Today will be a great day for France and for the whole world," Rethel said to the men around him. Several hundred soldiers followed suit, mounting armored horses so that rider and horse were fully protected by their meta armor.
They would advance in line formation at a light gallop until they got within 50 meters, at which point they would increase speed to hit the enemy lines. Then, after hitting the enemy, if the enemy had not fled or were crawling wounded by the deadly spears or swords of the knights, all the warriors would descend to, melee, finish off the enemy resistance while their own diverse cavalry and infantry would advance behind them to support them when the time came.
Everything was ready. Rethel raised her right hand. He was not to wait for any sign from the king. The orders had been precise. "As soon as the sun rises, you yourself will decide when to launch the charge of the armored knights," Orleans had ordered. Rethel's right hand remained raised.
The eyes of all the knights were fixed on that arm. Suddenly Rethel slammed it down. The beasts set off, first at a walk, then started trotting, and finaly they begine galloping. Rethel held on tightly to the bridle of his horse to keep from falling over the sheer speed and small bumps of the Chartres plain. Around him fifteen hundred knights charged alongside him. Rethel unsheathed his sword.
- For France, for the king, for Louis of Orleans! Charge, for all the saints, charge! And his voice tore through the dawn of that morning of October 2, 1484.
...............................................................................................................................................................
Thanks to daffgggggg for his valuable review as a beta reader, and to the readers who motivate me to write with their likes and comments.
Chartres Plain
Charles had arranged an attack formation. Ahead of the heavy pikemen, in the front line, were the infantry recruited by the nobility, a complex amalgamation of different counties and dukedoms, nonetheless a brutal fighting force. The king placed Alençon in command of the nobility's infantry.
On the left flank of the royal army, Charles placed Trémoille's cavalry so that it faced the Orléans heavy cavalry, while on the right flank , Bourbon, as constable of France, commanded part of the heavy cavalry, with the arquebusiers, along with several cannons that were thus facing the Angoulême cavalry.
At last, Charles had arranged the special units of hunters just behind Trémoille's cavalry. That was the new weapon he had conceived. He could have spread the hunters behind both cavalry, but he decided to mass them for use behind Trémoille's forces.
The armored knights of Orleans were, without a doubt, his greatest fear. The hunters were completely hidden by Trémoille's cuirassiers. Facing them, Francisco had positioned himself just behind his own rebel infantry, whom he had placed in the center to stop the advance of the royal infantry.
He had the support of the Orléans cavalry at one end and the Angoulême knights at the other to protect the flanks. The forces of both armies, at a rate of about 20,000 troops each, were equal, since the rebels had regrouped all the contingents that they had dispersed throughout the region.
Francisco did not feel comfortable in that equality of forces, but the damned king had left him no other choice but to fight.
For his part, the Angoulême watched the cavalry in front of him with a grim expression, while, at the other end of the plain, Orleans and Amalric discussed the best strategy to follow. "We'll charge forward, slowly," Orleans said.
Our armor will give us an advantage in close combat. Little by little we will gain ground and if they flee we can launch ourselves against their infantry from the rear. That will unbalance the combat. Amalric nodded. The proposal was logical, but he didn't know why, he sensed that the king would have already valued the superiority of the knight. "They look very confident," Amalric said. "They're peasants," Orleans commented as he adjusted his helmet, "they're only good for dying."
Right flank of the rebel army.
"Let's go," Orleans said. "Let's go," Amalric repeated. The noble heavy knights began to advance on the Chartres plain. The ground began to shake. "Shields up!" Orléans ordered. For a moment he thought that it would have been nice to have the support of the infantry, but still he was convinced that he would emerge victorious from that confrontation against the king's cuirassiers.
All the knights covered themselves with their defensive weapons. They knew that their spears are longer. There would be some casualties, but then... then it would be his turn. And they would have no mercy.
Left flank of the royal army
Lucio Trémoille emulated Orléans. He was already galloping on his horse, but instead of a short knight's lance, he clutched a mighty long cuirassier's spear. His enemies were the rebel armored knights of Orleans. He had to lash out at them from a distance taking advantage of their larger and longer spears.
In the melee they had the losing side. "All at my command!" Tremoille howled. Spears! Death or victory! Death or victory! And the cuirassiers, the best mounted unit of the royal troops, launched themselves against a stony, invincible, impossible enemy.
Left flank of the rebel army
John II of Burgundy, Count of Rethel, Prince of the Blood was not the royal heir, but that, like everything else, could change. It had only been three years since the death of the Orleans's eldest son, and with his absence, although Angoulême was next in line for succession, anything was possible, but for the king to decide to change the order of succession, John needed to show Orléans that he was the one who really knew how to fight, who could keep under his rule the immense domains of France, that previous kings had been slowly recovering, and not the impulsive and brush Angoulême.
No one likes to die thinking that everything they've fought for is going to be lost at the hands of a weak and crazy heir. John had to prove to his king that he was capable of holding the vast domains of the kingdom. That battle, he was sure, was a test that the king had designed, among many other things, in addition to ensuring the dominance of France, also to find out which of the two, Angoulême or himself, was the most suitable to succeed him. To him had fallen the honor of leading the great charge of knights from the left wing.
He knew it was risky and that is why Angoulême had not tried to take that position away from him by agreeing to stay with the diverse cavalry on that same flank, just behind the infantry, but John, daring, also knew that he could succeed and he was convinced that, if he swept through the ranks of the Duke of Bourbon, Louis's greatest enemy of all nobles, the king would be very generous to him.
That was why Rethel was willing to give his entrails if necessary, in this battle. The sun was beginning its slow ascent and the shadows were still long, stretching from right to left. Rethel took the helmet from a soldier and adjusted it snugly, tying the straps around his chin.
Next, he climbed into the great horse protected by thick metal plates. "Today will be a great day for France and for the whole world," Rethel said to the men around him. Several hundred soldiers followed suit, mounting armored horses so that rider and horse were fully protected by their meta armor.
They would advance in line formation at a light gallop until they got within 50 meters, at which point they would increase speed to hit the enemy lines. Then, after hitting the enemy, if the enemy had not fled or were crawling wounded by the deadly spears or swords of the knights, all the warriors would descend to, melee, finish off the enemy resistance while their own diverse cavalry and infantry would advance behind them to support them when the time came.
Everything was ready. Rethel raised her right hand. He was not to wait for any sign from the king. The orders had been precise. "As soon as the sun rises, you yourself will decide when to launch the charge of the armored knights," Orleans had ordered. Rethel's right hand remained raised.
The eyes of all the knights were fixed on that arm. Suddenly Rethel slammed it down. The beasts set off, first at a walk, then started trotting, and finaly they begine galloping. Rethel held on tightly to the bridle of his horse to keep from falling over the sheer speed and small bumps of the Chartres plain. Around him fifteen hundred knights charged alongside him. Rethel unsheathed his sword.
- For France, for the king, for Louis of Orleans! Charge, for all the saints, charge! And his voice tore through the dawn of that morning of October 2, 1484.
...............................................................................................................................................................
Thanks to daffgggggg for his valuable review as a beta reader, and to the readers who motivate me to write with their likes and comments.
Last edited by a moderator:
Chapter 9
Rolando Rivas
Making the rounds.
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Battle of Chartres (Part two)
Right flank of the royal army
John II of Bourbon, Duke of Bourbon, had his helmet on even before sunrise. He chose to go to the front line of combat. It wasn't about doing something crazy or wantonly endangering his life. It was that the front line of combat they must not retreat in any case and Bourbon knew that his presence there was the best guarantee that no one dared to retreat a step.
Bourbon paced up and down the vanguard, examining the men and stopping where it seemed to him that some arquebusier didn't have a weapon ready or enough targets to stop what was due to arrive at any moment. Bourbon knew that he had had to face armored knights and a great cavalry mixed from different social strata.
He knew that in addition to the armored knights, there would be a heavy cavalry of villainous knights and an infantry made up of levies from different nobles. But the most dangerous thing was the initial attack of the armored knights.
He had to stop them at all costs. Bourbon remembered the king's advice that night before, when they had discussed the plan of attack as he entered the king's great tent in the royal camp. - When they launch the armored cavalry, you must resist without yielding a step.
the right flank of our army cannot give way. If you back down, Bourbon, everything will fall apart. We will take care of the center and the left flank.
Your mission is to stop the knights and destroy the enemy lines of cavalry and infantry that follow them. Bourbon"-and the king, speaking his name, looked him directly in the eye-"get the victory on that flank and Dunois will be yours.
It was a great reward well worth the risk, but the duke also knew that the task assigned to him was tremendous.
Bourbon had more bullets distributed in a section where the arquebusiers had barely three bullets each. His mind, meanwhile, kept replaying the conversation with the king. - Can you beat the armored knights, Bourbon? the king had asked him.
- I can, my king, but can you with armored knights of the left flank?
- We'll deal with them like we did with the scouts. Duke of Bourbon nodded, but he still had a doubt.
- And will the center resist? –
The left flank and the center are up to us.
You, duke, stop the armored knights and advance against the cavalry and infantry on your end, that's all I ask of you.
Bourbon remembered how he had nodded once and how he had walked away to be greeted with respect by the rest of the king's officers. Now the moment of truth had come.
The sun was finally rising and on the horizon the enemy could be glimpsed very close, about three thousand paces away, perhaps a little less. The armored knights were in the front line.
One of the knights moved to the front. It was without a doubt the count who was going to lead this charge.
He didn't know who it was, but if the Duke of Bourbon was clear about one thing, it was that that man and all his armored knights were going to perish that morning.
One way or another. The duke stood in the center of the front line of combat, observing the enemy. The armored knights that had slightly advanced started to move after him and the others.
The battle had begun. Bourbon slipped the fingers of his right hand under his helmet. He itched his beard. He was nervous. He stuck out his fingers.
His hand went to the hilt of his sword. He unsheathed it and held it high for all of his men to see. Still, he thought it would not be enough and asked for a horse.
They brought it and quickly got on it. The arquebusiers were divided into two lines of a thousand soldiers each.
- Arquebusiers of France, kneel on the ground! ordered the duke. And the two thousand arquebusiers put one of their knees on the ground. In the distance a cloud of dust, just in front of them, rose like a great giant.
- For God's sake, let no one fire a bullet until I order it or he will pay with his life! The officers repeated the duke's orders throughout the front line of combat. In addition to the dust that the knights raised, the terrifying roar of the horses at full speed over the land of that plain began to be heard.
The arquebusiers swallowed their saliva. Many felt sweat trickling down their foreheads. They were all afraid. - First thousand! Load the arquebuses! Charge up! But no one throws yet! Charge up! Second thousand, prepare the arquebus! The duke yelled, already completely absorbed by the fury of a battle that was unleashed and that no one could stop until the destruction of one of the two armies.
Half of the arquebusiers took bullets and loaded their weapons. The other half prepared with a bullet in hand, but without putting it in the arquebus yet.
The rebels knights were leading the biggest dust storm the region had ever seen, but the easterly wind blowing across the River Eure carried the dust westward and blinded neither the king's men nor the rebel troops behind them.
they advanced behind the knights; however, the increasingly horrible noise produced by the armored knights overwhelmed the king's arquebusiers.
They were terrified that they would miss, they were terrified that the bullets would not be enough to stop the armored knights and that they would run over them and cut off their legs, arms, heads with the sharp spears that were aimed at them at full.
- Don't shoot! Don't shoot! Wait for my order! the duke repeated over and over again.
It was essential that not a single bullet from the first volley be wasted so that most of them hit the enemy soldiers or, better yet, the horses of the knights. One thousand meters, nine hundred, eight hundred.
- Take aim! cried the duke; he had to calculate well, the enemy was already only seven hundred meters away, the bullets flying in a straight line then picking up deadly speed would reach the enemy when he was a hundred meters away, but he had to accurately estimate the space that the armored knights would cover while bullets streaked the sky; three hundred meters, two hundred fifty, two hundred.
- Now, by God, now! Borbon howled, and a thousand arquebusiers threw their bullets, commending themselves to God and all the saints.
The duke, before he could even check whether the first volley reached his destination, continued to direct his arquebusiers. The second thousand! Shoot now, Shoot!
-And a second deadly volley was fired destroying the charge of the rebels.
Left flank of the rebel army
For Rethel, in the dust raised by the knights by their dizzying charge against the enemy, it was difficult to see what was happening around him. But looking ahead he glimpsed a wave of bullets, he understood why many nearby armored knights had lost control and crashed into each other.
By the grace of God, not a single bullet had hit him or his horse, but that was just a mirage because just when they were about to hit the line of enemy arquebusiers, a bullet went through his hand and he was left as dead, inert,
- Damn! Rethel shouted as he struggled to grab hold of the horse's reins with his other hand, the ungoverned horse beginning to be pulled aside by runaway horses trying to avoid crashing into the enemy lines.
Dammit! Rethel kept repeating until he managed to grab the reins of his horse with his other hand, but by then his horse was already riding sideways toward the center of the battle.
The change of direction, however, allowed him to see what a tremendous mess the charge of the armored knights under his command had become: hundreds of them lay on the ground, one on top of the other, and among the mangled corpses.
Wounded warriors emerged from the horses, crawling across a land covered with the blood of horses and men mixed in dense puddles that spread everywhere. The hail of bullets ceased, and he, in turn, was able to control the horses and rein them back a bit so that they headed back to the left flank.
Some knights, survivors of the great massacre, emerged from among the broken horses and Rethel did not hesitate for a moment. He immediately brought his horse to the front of the few hundred armored knights who had survived the hail of bullets and charged at the enemy.
He just wanted to ram a few of those damned arquebusiers. He no longer cared what was going to happen or what the outcome of this damned battle was. He just wanted to get revenge and take as many arquebusiers with him as he could.
Confrontation between the cavalry of Trémoille and Orleans
-Now! Attack! Trémoille shouted as he charged with his spears. The long lances of the cuirassiers stopped the rebels' charge. Orleans and Amalric and the rest of the knights met the charge with their own spears.
Most of the horsemen and beasts withstood the onslaught thanks to their training, though most of the troops in the front rank had been wounded and were collapsing to the ground dragged down another horse and rider.
There was some confusion in the slow advance, but most of the rebel knights recovered from their difficulties and began to form up for a new charge. Orleans took out an enemy first horseman with his own lance. He then he unsheathed his sword and lunged at another.
To his right, Amalric supported him, covering that flank well and knocking down another cuirassier. And so everywhere. Faster than expected, the rebels saw the cuirassiers retreat. "Back off!" Stand back! Tremoille ordered his men.
Open corridors! Amalric, who had heard the enemy general's instructions, understood the "back off" thing well, but he did not understand what the "open corridors" was about.
"Follow them!" By God, follow them! Orleans bellowed angrily, then turned to Amalric. I know they want to lead us away from the battle, but we can follow them for a bit. That will also give morale to Francisco's infantry and maybe that's how Francisco and his crew will finally do their job well.
Amalric nodded and kicked his heels to encourage his horse to continue alongside Orleans. "But there's something I don't understand," the viscount said. "You always worry about everything," Orleans answered. "It's possible... but why have those corridors been opened?" Amalric asked.
Orleans was going to add something as he wiped some peasant blood from one cheek with the back of one hand, but soon forgot those words and answered the viscount's question with another question. -What's that? "I don't know," Amalric said. Through the corridors that the knights had opened, hundreds of horsemen appeared, without armor, rushing at them at full speed.
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Thanks to daffgggggg for his valuable review as a beta reader, and to the readers who motivate me to write with their likes and comments.
Right flank of the royal army
John II of Bourbon, Duke of Bourbon, had his helmet on even before sunrise. He chose to go to the front line of combat. It wasn't about doing something crazy or wantonly endangering his life. It was that the front line of combat they must not retreat in any case and Bourbon knew that his presence there was the best guarantee that no one dared to retreat a step.
Bourbon paced up and down the vanguard, examining the men and stopping where it seemed to him that some arquebusier didn't have a weapon ready or enough targets to stop what was due to arrive at any moment. Bourbon knew that he had had to face armored knights and a great cavalry mixed from different social strata.
He knew that in addition to the armored knights, there would be a heavy cavalry of villainous knights and an infantry made up of levies from different nobles. But the most dangerous thing was the initial attack of the armored knights.
He had to stop them at all costs. Bourbon remembered the king's advice that night before, when they had discussed the plan of attack as he entered the king's great tent in the royal camp. - When they launch the armored cavalry, you must resist without yielding a step.
the right flank of our army cannot give way. If you back down, Bourbon, everything will fall apart. We will take care of the center and the left flank.
Your mission is to stop the knights and destroy the enemy lines of cavalry and infantry that follow them. Bourbon"-and the king, speaking his name, looked him directly in the eye-"get the victory on that flank and Dunois will be yours.
It was a great reward well worth the risk, but the duke also knew that the task assigned to him was tremendous.
Bourbon had more bullets distributed in a section where the arquebusiers had barely three bullets each. His mind, meanwhile, kept replaying the conversation with the king. - Can you beat the armored knights, Bourbon? the king had asked him.
- I can, my king, but can you with armored knights of the left flank?
- We'll deal with them like we did with the scouts. Duke of Bourbon nodded, but he still had a doubt.
- And will the center resist? –
The left flank and the center are up to us.
You, duke, stop the armored knights and advance against the cavalry and infantry on your end, that's all I ask of you.
Bourbon remembered how he had nodded once and how he had walked away to be greeted with respect by the rest of the king's officers. Now the moment of truth had come.
The sun was finally rising and on the horizon the enemy could be glimpsed very close, about three thousand paces away, perhaps a little less. The armored knights were in the front line.
One of the knights moved to the front. It was without a doubt the count who was going to lead this charge.
He didn't know who it was, but if the Duke of Bourbon was clear about one thing, it was that that man and all his armored knights were going to perish that morning.
One way or another. The duke stood in the center of the front line of combat, observing the enemy. The armored knights that had slightly advanced started to move after him and the others.
The battle had begun. Bourbon slipped the fingers of his right hand under his helmet. He itched his beard. He was nervous. He stuck out his fingers.
His hand went to the hilt of his sword. He unsheathed it and held it high for all of his men to see. Still, he thought it would not be enough and asked for a horse.
They brought it and quickly got on it. The arquebusiers were divided into two lines of a thousand soldiers each.
- Arquebusiers of France, kneel on the ground! ordered the duke. And the two thousand arquebusiers put one of their knees on the ground. In the distance a cloud of dust, just in front of them, rose like a great giant.
- For God's sake, let no one fire a bullet until I order it or he will pay with his life! The officers repeated the duke's orders throughout the front line of combat. In addition to the dust that the knights raised, the terrifying roar of the horses at full speed over the land of that plain began to be heard.
The arquebusiers swallowed their saliva. Many felt sweat trickling down their foreheads. They were all afraid. - First thousand! Load the arquebuses! Charge up! But no one throws yet! Charge up! Second thousand, prepare the arquebus! The duke yelled, already completely absorbed by the fury of a battle that was unleashed and that no one could stop until the destruction of one of the two armies.
Half of the arquebusiers took bullets and loaded their weapons. The other half prepared with a bullet in hand, but without putting it in the arquebus yet.
The rebels knights were leading the biggest dust storm the region had ever seen, but the easterly wind blowing across the River Eure carried the dust westward and blinded neither the king's men nor the rebel troops behind them.
they advanced behind the knights; however, the increasingly horrible noise produced by the armored knights overwhelmed the king's arquebusiers.
They were terrified that they would miss, they were terrified that the bullets would not be enough to stop the armored knights and that they would run over them and cut off their legs, arms, heads with the sharp spears that were aimed at them at full.
- Don't shoot! Don't shoot! Wait for my order! the duke repeated over and over again.
It was essential that not a single bullet from the first volley be wasted so that most of them hit the enemy soldiers or, better yet, the horses of the knights. One thousand meters, nine hundred, eight hundred.
- Take aim! cried the duke; he had to calculate well, the enemy was already only seven hundred meters away, the bullets flying in a straight line then picking up deadly speed would reach the enemy when he was a hundred meters away, but he had to accurately estimate the space that the armored knights would cover while bullets streaked the sky; three hundred meters, two hundred fifty, two hundred.
- Now, by God, now! Borbon howled, and a thousand arquebusiers threw their bullets, commending themselves to God and all the saints.
The duke, before he could even check whether the first volley reached his destination, continued to direct his arquebusiers. The second thousand! Shoot now, Shoot!
-And a second deadly volley was fired destroying the charge of the rebels.
Left flank of the rebel army
For Rethel, in the dust raised by the knights by their dizzying charge against the enemy, it was difficult to see what was happening around him. But looking ahead he glimpsed a wave of bullets, he understood why many nearby armored knights had lost control and crashed into each other.
By the grace of God, not a single bullet had hit him or his horse, but that was just a mirage because just when they were about to hit the line of enemy arquebusiers, a bullet went through his hand and he was left as dead, inert,
- Damn! Rethel shouted as he struggled to grab hold of the horse's reins with his other hand, the ungoverned horse beginning to be pulled aside by runaway horses trying to avoid crashing into the enemy lines.
Dammit! Rethel kept repeating until he managed to grab the reins of his horse with his other hand, but by then his horse was already riding sideways toward the center of the battle.
The change of direction, however, allowed him to see what a tremendous mess the charge of the armored knights under his command had become: hundreds of them lay on the ground, one on top of the other, and among the mangled corpses.
Wounded warriors emerged from the horses, crawling across a land covered with the blood of horses and men mixed in dense puddles that spread everywhere. The hail of bullets ceased, and he, in turn, was able to control the horses and rein them back a bit so that they headed back to the left flank.
Some knights, survivors of the great massacre, emerged from among the broken horses and Rethel did not hesitate for a moment. He immediately brought his horse to the front of the few hundred armored knights who had survived the hail of bullets and charged at the enemy.
He just wanted to ram a few of those damned arquebusiers. He no longer cared what was going to happen or what the outcome of this damned battle was. He just wanted to get revenge and take as many arquebusiers with him as he could.
Confrontation between the cavalry of Trémoille and Orleans
-Now! Attack! Trémoille shouted as he charged with his spears. The long lances of the cuirassiers stopped the rebels' charge. Orleans and Amalric and the rest of the knights met the charge with their own spears.
Most of the horsemen and beasts withstood the onslaught thanks to their training, though most of the troops in the front rank had been wounded and were collapsing to the ground dragged down another horse and rider.
There was some confusion in the slow advance, but most of the rebel knights recovered from their difficulties and began to form up for a new charge. Orleans took out an enemy first horseman with his own lance. He then he unsheathed his sword and lunged at another.
To his right, Amalric supported him, covering that flank well and knocking down another cuirassier. And so everywhere. Faster than expected, the rebels saw the cuirassiers retreat. "Back off!" Stand back! Tremoille ordered his men.
Open corridors! Amalric, who had heard the enemy general's instructions, understood the "back off" thing well, but he did not understand what the "open corridors" was about.
"Follow them!" By God, follow them! Orleans bellowed angrily, then turned to Amalric. I know they want to lead us away from the battle, but we can follow them for a bit. That will also give morale to Francisco's infantry and maybe that's how Francisco and his crew will finally do their job well.
Amalric nodded and kicked his heels to encourage his horse to continue alongside Orleans. "But there's something I don't understand," the viscount said. "You always worry about everything," Orleans answered. "It's possible... but why have those corridors been opened?" Amalric asked.
Orleans was going to add something as he wiped some peasant blood from one cheek with the back of one hand, but soon forgot those words and answered the viscount's question with another question. -What's that? "I don't know," Amalric said. Through the corridors that the knights had opened, hundreds of horsemen appeared, without armor, rushing at them at full speed.
..........................................................................
Thanks to daffgggggg for his valuable review as a beta reader, and to the readers who motivate me to write with their likes and comments.
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ATP
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Good chapter,but even muskets from Napoleon times was unable to hit anything at 200m.
Against calvary,they fired at 30m or even less.
P.S Where are archers? french copied english longbow and made their own archer corps which should still exist in this time.And longbows beat muskets and everything except punching through plate armour - better range,better rate of fire,better accuracy.So,if you have archers,use them.
Against calvary,they fired at 30m or even less.
P.S Where are archers? french copied english longbow and made their own archer corps which should still exist in this time.And longbows beat muskets and everything except punching through plate armour - better range,better rate of fire,better accuracy.So,if you have archers,use them.
Rolando Rivas
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The trained longbowmen number in the hundreds and are in the center of the formation within the noble infantry.
To train thousands of longbowmen would take years until they could master it, the arquebusiers in less than a year are ready for combat, in the Battle of Pavia, 2000 Spanish arquebusiers destroyed most of the French heavy cavalry. Although Pavia was 40 years from now, keep in mind that Leonardo is in charge of the weapons.
ATP
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Average longbowmen need at least 5 years,and arguebusier few months,so you are right.But SI still should train more of them - longbows would remain superior to firearms at least till 1853.
I would better writer,i would take random european country,gave it trained archers about 1400,and let see how much they would take.
P.S you still have time to persuade pope to legitimate Hungary King son,and marry him to random french princess.If you manage that and keep alliance with Hungary,Habsburgs would never become leading power.
Chapter 10
Rolando Rivas
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Battle of Chartres (Third Part)
Confrontation between the cavalry of Trémoille and Orleans
Meanwhile, on the right flank, the knights of Orléans watched as those horsemen galloped closer. "What do they want?" Amalric asked. 'I have no idea,' Orleans admitted, 'but we'll hold their charge in a tight file.
Their horses will not want to collide and will eventually stop. No horse wants to collide with another and they have not been mowed down. Those horses see that we are ahead. They will stop. And if not, we'll stop them..." And he turned to his men: "form a line! The enemy cavalry was galloping toward them through the corridors left by the royal cuirassiers. Trémoille paused to see what it was all about. Would the king's strategy work?
-They are there! Their training! —Orléans repeated to his people in his own language. Amalric lined up his horse next to Orléans's and next to him stood another knight and another and another.
One hundred paces to go, eighty, seventy, sixty, and suddenly a bullet whistled through the air, tearing through the metal armor of one of the armored knights to Orleans's left as if the man had been naked.
None of them understood who had fired that bullet. And suddenly they fired another, and another, and the result was always the same: whether it was a horse or a knight, the one hit by one of those bullets fell dead, amid tremendous howls of pain, pierced by those deadly bullets.
Nothing could get past the armored wards of the knights. Any. "Come out of the horsemen!" said Amalric. He has loaded arquebuses and several loaded pistols, the horsemen shoot us with them! And the horses did not seek to collide, but once they had fired, they turned on themselves, remaining a hundred paces from the enemy and returning to the rear.
Once all the horsemen had fired, the cuirassiers returned to take up position and he charged them. "How many have fallen?" Orleans asked nervously. Many? "About four hundred," Amalric replied. Armored Knights weren't used to losing so many men in a charge. That's what they had that armor for, but against the bullets of those horsemen the protections were worthless. -Good. Now their cuirassiers are coming back," Orleans said bravely. Against them we can.
We have to kill four hundred to balance this. Amalric thought it was sensible. It was either that or running awey. They fought for a few minutes, the cuirassiers, despite their swords that pierced the armor, could not overcome the training of several years of the Orleans knights, and they were losing in close combat, but, once again, they moved away again, opening corridors.
In that interval, the hunters reloaded their weapons and once again charged at the rebellious knights. -Oh my God! This time we will not wait for them like statues! We don't have archers, so we'll have to do everything ourselves! Orléans howled. Charge! And brandishing a spear he flung himself in fury at one of the hunters.
The hunter in front of the duke took aim at Orleans and fired his bullet at excruciating speed, but the duke leaned close to his horse's body and avoided the deadly bullet. He then reached the horseman's height, took a firm grip on his spear and... "Aaagghhh!" As if he were a boar about to be roasted, Orleans impaled the rider. —Aaaaahhhhh! Orleans shouted with victorious fury.
And dozens of his knights threw themselves to repeat their heroics by acclaiming their leader. But the rebellious knights who tried to emulate Orleans did so with different success. Several fell victims to the bullets from the harquebuses; others fell victim to pistol bullets, and fewer managed to kill the hunter they were facing. Altogether twenty hunters died.
The surviving hunters successfully fell back to reload their weapons, but they no longer felt as safe or as brave. "You have to target the horses!" Trémoille ordered the hunters from his position as his cuirassiers went back to cover the strategic retreat of the hunters who needed a time interval to load their weapons. Horses are bigger targets and you'll miss less, and an armored knight is crippled without his horse! To the horses!
Right flank of the royal army
Bourbon noted with satisfaction that most of the armored knights had been smashed along the riverbank. However, the nobleman leading the armored knight charge had survived and was leading his horse, along with a few hundred other armored knights who had survived the disaster, against the line of arquebusiers.
The duke was clear about what was coming. - Open corridors, open corridors! Bourbon yelled at the arquebusiers, and they regrouped, leaving wide spaces through which, in response to the duke's orders, dozens, hundreds of knights with lances emerged ready to face the surviving armored knights. For God's sake, cavalry of France, finish off the treacherous armored knights, finish them off!
If the cavalry had to face fifteen hundred armored knights it would have been very different, but when it came to stopping just a few hundred, things were very different. The king's knights, experienced, charged the rebels with their spears.
Despite everything, some rebel armored knights still managed to get rid of those by drawing their swords and making the royal horsemen fall while the beasts neighed in pain and extreme suffering.
The fight on the right flank was taking place along the river and the outcome was still uncertain, but the Duke of Bourbon knew that he had the upper hand and asked for a horse and a spear that were immediately given to him.
On the back of his horse he sought out the rebel count who, stubbornly, persisted in surviving, leading his rebel armored knight against the king's knights, causing heavy casualties. The Duke rode close to Count Rethel, and Count Rethel saw him.
The count then took a spear that he still had and launched himself at the duke, but Bourbon was agile and with a quick movement avoided the enemy's spear. Then it was his turn. He noted that Rethel had abandoned his shield to grab the reins of his horse that kept galloping and pulling furiously.
The Duke approached from the side, and just as the Duke and the rogue count were on the same level, Bourbon, with precision and power, nailed it with his spear. Rethel knew what was going to happen and instinctively docked, but not far enough or in the right direction.
The duke's spear slashed through the air until it hit his foe's sternum, diagonally, just above the highest ribs that split open and shattered into dozens of tiny pieces inside Rethel's thorax. Then came the pain and the strength in his hands failed and the treacherous count let go of the reins and the horse that was holding back a little galloped uncontrollably again.
Blood sprayed from his mouth as he turned on his enemy. Rethel still unsheathed a sword with a strange energy that he was not sure where it came from, but as soon as he drew his sword, the weapon fell from his right hand and he stood with his arm raised, with a spear that went completely through him, like if he saluted, he would instantly fall off his horse and fall face down on the ground of the plain with his face split open by the blow.
Bourbon didn't hesitate and stopped his horse. Presently a dozen of his horsemen came to protect the duke, as he dismounted, drew his sword once more, and swinging the weapon like an axe, bringing it down blade first several times on the neck of the dead enemy, he cut the head of the dejected count.
He took a spear from one of his warriors and impaled with his bare hands the wide-eyed, twisted-faced head, tongue sticking out of it, as if permanently suffocated, on the tip of a pole.
Then he gave it to the riders from him. - The rebel armored knights have already disappeared. Go now and, for God's sake, take their count's head to those bloody rebels! Let them know what awaits them! One of the officers seized the spear and raised it sharply, the point of it protruding from the broken top of the split skull of the one who, only had a minute before, had dreamed of being the heir to the kingdom of France.
Rear of the royal army
" Second regiment of armored pikemen!" Carlos exclaimed. Now!
Royal Army Center Front Line
Alençon listened to the trumpeters and ordered the new replacement of the first rank of infantry by the second rank of armored pikemen units that entered the fight fresh. For Alençon that change was too fast. It was true that this way men were always kept at full capacity in the front line, despite his doubts, Alençon was not seen with arrests to discuss the orders of his king in the middle of a gigantic pitched battle. " Second regiment of armored pikemen!" In front! he howled.
Rebel army rearguard
The nobles looked at Francis. This time they did think it was convenient to replace the front-line men who had resisted the brutal front-line attack. Forcing them to resist a second attack without giving them rest seemed excessive, but Francisco was not looking ahead, but to his flanks: on the extreme left from his position the knights of Orléans had thrown everything against the royal cavalry in that sector, but in the right flank, Count Angoulême had not yet given orders to his horsemen. "Why doesn't he attack that imbecile Angoulême?" Francis asked.
Francis was still looking towards Angoulême's position. -Oh my God! Why doesn't he charge with all the cavalry? —Francisco kept asking his men. "Perhaps he does as we do and he wants to keep a reserve," one of the nobles ventured. "Maybe," Francisco repeated, but he wasn't very convinced. Meanwhile, everyone there seemed to have forgotten about the vanguard, where the rebels front line was barely resisting a second attack against the fresh enemy pikemen.
Left flank of the rebel army
Angoulême watched as a dozen of the king's knights paraded Rethel's head on a pole before a raging rebel infantry who stared at the deathly scowl of the dejected count Rethel with a mixture of shame and fear of what had happened. Angoulême was not so worried. The dispute over who would be the heir to the throne of Orleans had been decided at that very moment and that was good.
With Rethel gone, the king would no longer have any hesitation in appointing him heir to France and all the territories. Things, at least for him, were going well in this battle. Of course, now he himself had to stop the advance of the cavalry of the Duke of Bourbon that was launched at that very moment against them.
Angoulême put his own villainous knights in front, also protected by partial armor that, however, left gaps in both riders and horses; this, on the other hand, made them somewhat lighter, but also more vulnerable than the armored knights Orleans had selected to fight at the other end of the battle.
And behind them, Angoulême had more light horsemen and hundreds of rebel infantry warriors from all corners of the kingdom, but they were not nobles and would not fight with the same dedication nor had they had the same professional and careful training as the knights they had. They trained from their childhood for the war.
It was a powerful force in its numbers, but of little security if the enemy was fierce, but Angoulême did not have time to change the disposition of the troops in the scene of that battle and relied on the numerical superiority that the military forces gave it. which he had. Angoulême, in any case, was not a man of much thought.
- By God and all the saints! Charge! And the villain knights, disciplined, followed him, but the start was late and they came to the brutal clash that took place on the plain closest to the rebel ranks, with less force then, than the duke's cavalry, they knew that the king for whom they were fighting was the real one, or because, in effect, the villainous knights of Angoulême fought without really knowing what they were, because they wore protections that made them less agile but not enough to make them immune, the fact is that the villainous knights fell everywhere , and Angoulême watched helplessly as his best men began to retreat before the almost bestial fearlessness of the king's horsemen.
Thus, in anticipation of disaster, Angoulême abandoned the vanguard and positioned himself in the rear, just behind the infantry that was to defend that flank of the army. The villainous knights and light cavalry that supported them gave ground and, in the end, without a general, unruly and dazed, they beat a retreat away from the battlefield and scattered around the Chartres plain.
In many cases they crossed the river to become deserters and fugitives from a king who they sensed was going to be defeated, because for a soldier it was always better to save the life and be a deserter of a defeated one than an epic hero killed by a defeated one, because who were often defeated had neither the means nor the energy to apprehend, try and execute their deserters. That was normally a luxury of the victors.
Confrontation between the cavalry of Trémoille and Orleans
Meanwhile, on the right flank, the knights of Orléans watched as those horsemen galloped closer. "What do they want?" Amalric asked. 'I have no idea,' Orleans admitted, 'but we'll hold their charge in a tight file.
Their horses will not want to collide and will eventually stop. No horse wants to collide with another and they have not been mowed down. Those horses see that we are ahead. They will stop. And if not, we'll stop them..." And he turned to his men: "form a line! The enemy cavalry was galloping toward them through the corridors left by the royal cuirassiers. Trémoille paused to see what it was all about. Would the king's strategy work?
-They are there! Their training! —Orléans repeated to his people in his own language. Amalric lined up his horse next to Orléans's and next to him stood another knight and another and another.
One hundred paces to go, eighty, seventy, sixty, and suddenly a bullet whistled through the air, tearing through the metal armor of one of the armored knights to Orleans's left as if the man had been naked.
None of them understood who had fired that bullet. And suddenly they fired another, and another, and the result was always the same: whether it was a horse or a knight, the one hit by one of those bullets fell dead, amid tremendous howls of pain, pierced by those deadly bullets.
Nothing could get past the armored wards of the knights. Any. "Come out of the horsemen!" said Amalric. He has loaded arquebuses and several loaded pistols, the horsemen shoot us with them! And the horses did not seek to collide, but once they had fired, they turned on themselves, remaining a hundred paces from the enemy and returning to the rear.
Once all the horsemen had fired, the cuirassiers returned to take up position and he charged them. "How many have fallen?" Orleans asked nervously. Many? "About four hundred," Amalric replied. Armored Knights weren't used to losing so many men in a charge. That's what they had that armor for, but against the bullets of those horsemen the protections were worthless. -Good. Now their cuirassiers are coming back," Orleans said bravely. Against them we can.
We have to kill four hundred to balance this. Amalric thought it was sensible. It was either that or running awey. They fought for a few minutes, the cuirassiers, despite their swords that pierced the armor, could not overcome the training of several years of the Orleans knights, and they were losing in close combat, but, once again, they moved away again, opening corridors.
In that interval, the hunters reloaded their weapons and once again charged at the rebellious knights. -Oh my God! This time we will not wait for them like statues! We don't have archers, so we'll have to do everything ourselves! Orléans howled. Charge! And brandishing a spear he flung himself in fury at one of the hunters.
The hunter in front of the duke took aim at Orleans and fired his bullet at excruciating speed, but the duke leaned close to his horse's body and avoided the deadly bullet. He then reached the horseman's height, took a firm grip on his spear and... "Aaagghhh!" As if he were a boar about to be roasted, Orleans impaled the rider. —Aaaaahhhhh! Orleans shouted with victorious fury.
And dozens of his knights threw themselves to repeat their heroics by acclaiming their leader. But the rebellious knights who tried to emulate Orleans did so with different success. Several fell victims to the bullets from the harquebuses; others fell victim to pistol bullets, and fewer managed to kill the hunter they were facing. Altogether twenty hunters died.
The surviving hunters successfully fell back to reload their weapons, but they no longer felt as safe or as brave. "You have to target the horses!" Trémoille ordered the hunters from his position as his cuirassiers went back to cover the strategic retreat of the hunters who needed a time interval to load their weapons. Horses are bigger targets and you'll miss less, and an armored knight is crippled without his horse! To the horses!
Right flank of the royal army
Bourbon noted with satisfaction that most of the armored knights had been smashed along the riverbank. However, the nobleman leading the armored knight charge had survived and was leading his horse, along with a few hundred other armored knights who had survived the disaster, against the line of arquebusiers.
The duke was clear about what was coming. - Open corridors, open corridors! Bourbon yelled at the arquebusiers, and they regrouped, leaving wide spaces through which, in response to the duke's orders, dozens, hundreds of knights with lances emerged ready to face the surviving armored knights. For God's sake, cavalry of France, finish off the treacherous armored knights, finish them off!
If the cavalry had to face fifteen hundred armored knights it would have been very different, but when it came to stopping just a few hundred, things were very different. The king's knights, experienced, charged the rebels with their spears.
Despite everything, some rebel armored knights still managed to get rid of those by drawing their swords and making the royal horsemen fall while the beasts neighed in pain and extreme suffering.
The fight on the right flank was taking place along the river and the outcome was still uncertain, but the Duke of Bourbon knew that he had the upper hand and asked for a horse and a spear that were immediately given to him.
On the back of his horse he sought out the rebel count who, stubbornly, persisted in surviving, leading his rebel armored knight against the king's knights, causing heavy casualties. The Duke rode close to Count Rethel, and Count Rethel saw him.
The count then took a spear that he still had and launched himself at the duke, but Bourbon was agile and with a quick movement avoided the enemy's spear. Then it was his turn. He noted that Rethel had abandoned his shield to grab the reins of his horse that kept galloping and pulling furiously.
The Duke approached from the side, and just as the Duke and the rogue count were on the same level, Bourbon, with precision and power, nailed it with his spear. Rethel knew what was going to happen and instinctively docked, but not far enough or in the right direction.
The duke's spear slashed through the air until it hit his foe's sternum, diagonally, just above the highest ribs that split open and shattered into dozens of tiny pieces inside Rethel's thorax. Then came the pain and the strength in his hands failed and the treacherous count let go of the reins and the horse that was holding back a little galloped uncontrollably again.
Blood sprayed from his mouth as he turned on his enemy. Rethel still unsheathed a sword with a strange energy that he was not sure where it came from, but as soon as he drew his sword, the weapon fell from his right hand and he stood with his arm raised, with a spear that went completely through him, like if he saluted, he would instantly fall off his horse and fall face down on the ground of the plain with his face split open by the blow.
Bourbon didn't hesitate and stopped his horse. Presently a dozen of his horsemen came to protect the duke, as he dismounted, drew his sword once more, and swinging the weapon like an axe, bringing it down blade first several times on the neck of the dead enemy, he cut the head of the dejected count.
He took a spear from one of his warriors and impaled with his bare hands the wide-eyed, twisted-faced head, tongue sticking out of it, as if permanently suffocated, on the tip of a pole.
Then he gave it to the riders from him. - The rebel armored knights have already disappeared. Go now and, for God's sake, take their count's head to those bloody rebels! Let them know what awaits them! One of the officers seized the spear and raised it sharply, the point of it protruding from the broken top of the split skull of the one who, only had a minute before, had dreamed of being the heir to the kingdom of France.
Rear of the royal army
" Second regiment of armored pikemen!" Carlos exclaimed. Now!
Royal Army Center Front Line
Alençon listened to the trumpeters and ordered the new replacement of the first rank of infantry by the second rank of armored pikemen units that entered the fight fresh. For Alençon that change was too fast. It was true that this way men were always kept at full capacity in the front line, despite his doubts, Alençon was not seen with arrests to discuss the orders of his king in the middle of a gigantic pitched battle. " Second regiment of armored pikemen!" In front! he howled.
Rebel army rearguard
The nobles looked at Francis. This time they did think it was convenient to replace the front-line men who had resisted the brutal front-line attack. Forcing them to resist a second attack without giving them rest seemed excessive, but Francisco was not looking ahead, but to his flanks: on the extreme left from his position the knights of Orléans had thrown everything against the royal cavalry in that sector, but in the right flank, Count Angoulême had not yet given orders to his horsemen. "Why doesn't he attack that imbecile Angoulême?" Francis asked.
Francis was still looking towards Angoulême's position. -Oh my God! Why doesn't he charge with all the cavalry? —Francisco kept asking his men. "Perhaps he does as we do and he wants to keep a reserve," one of the nobles ventured. "Maybe," Francisco repeated, but he wasn't very convinced. Meanwhile, everyone there seemed to have forgotten about the vanguard, where the rebels front line was barely resisting a second attack against the fresh enemy pikemen.
Left flank of the rebel army
Angoulême watched as a dozen of the king's knights paraded Rethel's head on a pole before a raging rebel infantry who stared at the deathly scowl of the dejected count Rethel with a mixture of shame and fear of what had happened. Angoulême was not so worried. The dispute over who would be the heir to the throne of Orleans had been decided at that very moment and that was good.
With Rethel gone, the king would no longer have any hesitation in appointing him heir to France and all the territories. Things, at least for him, were going well in this battle. Of course, now he himself had to stop the advance of the cavalry of the Duke of Bourbon that was launched at that very moment against them.
Angoulême put his own villainous knights in front, also protected by partial armor that, however, left gaps in both riders and horses; this, on the other hand, made them somewhat lighter, but also more vulnerable than the armored knights Orleans had selected to fight at the other end of the battle.
And behind them, Angoulême had more light horsemen and hundreds of rebel infantry warriors from all corners of the kingdom, but they were not nobles and would not fight with the same dedication nor had they had the same professional and careful training as the knights they had. They trained from their childhood for the war.
It was a powerful force in its numbers, but of little security if the enemy was fierce, but Angoulême did not have time to change the disposition of the troops in the scene of that battle and relied on the numerical superiority that the military forces gave it. which he had. Angoulême, in any case, was not a man of much thought.
- By God and all the saints! Charge! And the villain knights, disciplined, followed him, but the start was late and they came to the brutal clash that took place on the plain closest to the rebel ranks, with less force then, than the duke's cavalry, they knew that the king for whom they were fighting was the real one, or because, in effect, the villainous knights of Angoulême fought without really knowing what they were, because they wore protections that made them less agile but not enough to make them immune, the fact is that the villainous knights fell everywhere , and Angoulême watched helplessly as his best men began to retreat before the almost bestial fearlessness of the king's horsemen.
Thus, in anticipation of disaster, Angoulême abandoned the vanguard and positioned himself in the rear, just behind the infantry that was to defend that flank of the army. The villainous knights and light cavalry that supported them gave ground and, in the end, without a general, unruly and dazed, they beat a retreat away from the battlefield and scattered around the Chartres plain.
In many cases they crossed the river to become deserters and fugitives from a king who they sensed was going to be defeated, because for a soldier it was always better to save the life and be a deserter of a defeated one than an epic hero killed by a defeated one, because who were often defeated had neither the means nor the energy to apprehend, try and execute their deserters. That was normally a luxury of the victors.
ComradeChairmanKGB
I trust you know where the happy button is?
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I think I'm going to have to drop the story at this point. The pacing is glacial, it's insane that we are still in this point of the battle. Couple that with the rapid pov switches between everyone and their mom on both sides. It's just become impossible to follow. Anyway good luck with the story.
Also you might want to decide on how you want to handle dialog. You often switch between -, '', "" and often don't even cap the end.
Also you might want to decide on how you want to handle dialog. You often switch between -, '', "" and often don't even cap the end.
Heros-Venator
Not too sore, are you?
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maybe, but this battle is the all or nothing engagement between the king and the lords that both sides have been preparing for. all of his domestic enemies, rivals, and opponents have placed their necks on the outcome of this one battle. this battle could have taken almost an entire day at this point indicated by the king switching his forward pike lines due to Battle fatigue or high field casualties. I'm sure the pacing will return to normal after the battle.
Nuthenry2
Full of packing peanuts *Munch Munch Munch*
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I agree pick a style and stick to it, preferably double quotation marks ("speach") as i dislike any stories that doesn't use them or uses single quotation marks ('Speach') for speaking out loud when they should be used for thinking to your self
Rolando Rivas
Making the rounds.
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The next chapter is the end of this battle, as it is crucial I thought it should be narrated.
