Steel, gunpowder, and spellcasters

Chapter 542 Negotiation (Part 1)

[Kings' Castle]
[West bank of the Ten Arrows River]
"Not bad!"

Lieutenant Colonel Montecuccoli, with two glasses clipped to his nose, stood on the city wall, sketching on a small notebook with a silver needle stuck in a wooden stick.
He would occasionally stretch out his arm, raise his finger, and squint to estimate the distance to various landmark buildings in the suburbs.

The old arrow tower where he stood was the highest point on the west bank of the Ten Arrows River. From the tower, one could see the entire landscape on both sides of the city wall.

Moving eastward from the city wall, from near to far, are the new city, the Shijian River, and the old city.

The former headquarters of the Palatine Army—now the office of the Palatine Army Military Commissioner—is located in the north of the new city.

The beautiful two-story stone building stands out among the low-rise houses on the west bank.

Enter the city through the gate beneath Montecouli, cross the new city along the main road, cross the pontoon bridge or take a ferry across the Ten Arrows River, and then head north to reach the Kings' Castle dock.

On the dock, tiny people, like ants, and horse-drawn carriages the size of fingernails came and went.

Some barges were still waiting to unload cargo, but the oars-powered warship "Marco Good Luck" was nowhere to be seen near the pier.

Entering the old water gate from the dock and climbing the steps, you will reach the old castle located on the eastern terrace.

The Old Castle is, in a narrow sense, the "Kings' Castle," the seat of the old Palatine dukes. One could say that the history of the Kings' Castle is primarily the history of the Old Castle and the small mound at its foot.

The famous Basilica of Our Lady of Plato stands in Trinity Square below the Old Castle, with the two castles at different heights, facing each other.

The golden emblem of the Basilica of Our Lady shines brightly atop its bell tower, which is even taller than the arrow tower where Montecuccoli stands.

However, as a Reformed Christian, Lieutenant Colonel Raymond Montecouccoli clearly did not have any particular feelings towards Catholic sanctuaries. If anything, it would only be contempt and disdain.

Lieutenant Colonel Montecoli focused all his attention on the west and south sides of the city walls.

To the west of the new city lies an endless expanse of farmland and plains.

Apart from small patches of woods and scattered village houses, there was nothing else to rely on during a siege.

To the south, on the Ten Arrows River, due to the accumulation of silt in this gentle riverbed over thousands of years, a natural island in the middle of the river—Margit Island—has been formed, about two kilometers long and four hundred meters wide.

There are no residential houses on the island, only a monastery and the summer palace of the old Duke of Palatine.

A soldier held up a yellowed old map and stood guard beside the lieutenant colonel.

However, the lieutenant colonel would only occasionally glance at the existing map; most of the time, he would observe and sketch in the manual.

The lieutenant colonel trusted what he saw with his own eyes more than information provided by others.

As the artillery lieutenant colonel's silver needle pen swept across the manual, even and clear lines were left on the specially made paper, which was coated with a thin layer of powder—the defensive fortifications of Zhuwangbao leaped off the page.

“Very good,” Lieutenant Colonel Montecochli praised. “The old city walls are well preserved, and maintenance and renovation have never stopped. So there’s no need for any major changes. With just a little repair, we can make it a formidable city that can break iron hooves once again.”

“No, that’s not right,” before anyone else could speak, Lieutenant Colonel Montecochli shook his head and added meticulously, “To be precise, she is now also a formidable fortress.”

Montecuccoli slammed the brochure shut, pointed to the surrounding scenery, and exclaimed to his colleagues, "Look at this location—it's absolutely brilliant!"

"Which historically significant city has a poorly chosen location?" Jason Cornelius, leading his subordinates to the top of the tower to view the city, gazed at the southwest horizon and said calmly:

"And let's not forget that this is the land of galloping horses, a place that has suffered from war, faced long-term military threats from the nomadic tribes of the grasslands, and has hardly ever enjoyed a few days of peace."

“The Platu people would naturally choose to establish settlements in the safest places. And none of the ancient cities that have stood on this land for centuries are not easy to defend and difficult to attack.”

Cornelius patted the battlements in front of him: "Even the city on this side of the west bank was only started to be built after Palatour joined the alliance."

“In the past, whenever the Hed raiders came, the Paratists would burn everything on the west bank and then retreat to the old city on the east bank, where they would hold their ground by the river.”

"This is also why the Fortress of Kings has never fallen."

"It's a pity we can't burn it anymore," Monteco said regretfully.

Cornelius smiled upon hearing this, offering neither comment nor affirmation.

Major Fritz, who was accompanying them, suddenly felt a slight chill in the wind blowing from the city wall.

……

Among the provincial officers present, Lieutenant Colonel William Lordwick and his men were not seen.

Following yesterday's public meeting, Brigadier General Cornelius and Lieutenant Colonel Lordwijk had another private conversation.

A heated argument broke out between the two sides, or more accurately, a one-sided attack, especially after Jason Cornelis ordered Lieutenant Colonel Lordwijk to tighten his defenses.

In fact, at this moment, William Lordwick's main force was not stationed at Kingsburg, but was dispersed in outlying strongholds such as Birchburg and Perrinburg, which guarded the main provincial road to and from Maplestone.

William Lordwick's anger reached its peak after hearing his theoretical superior order him to withdraw from Kingsburg.

“I need to remind you, General,” Lieutenant Colonel Lordwijk, disregarding seniority, gritted his teeth, his eyes filled with a hatred he didn’t know how to explain to the fool, and his speech became somewhat incoherent:

"You might think that it would be better to concentrate all your forces for defense."

"But in fact, this will only lead to our faster and one-time elimination."

"In our current situation, abandoning the strongholds on the outskirts and retreating all our troops back to Kingsburg would be the most foolish thing to do."

"If the enemy really reaches the walls of Zhuwangbao, not even four or eight battalions would be enough."

"So the best you can count on is that the New Reclamation rebels will chip away at your way through, wasting time besieging the outer strongholds, thus allowing you to survive a few more days and bring in more troops from the mainland!"

"This is still assuming that the enemy won't act rashly, ignore the outer strongholds, and rush directly towards us."

“If I withdraw my troops, then I tell you, in the towns west of Kingsburg, there will no longer be a single gun or sword to stop those Paratus from surrendering to the rebels.”

"Maybe I'll bring the troops back tonight, and when you get up tomorrow morning, the world outside will have changed!"
"And aren't you trying to intimidate the newly reclaimed land rebels with an empty shell?"

"If I withdraw my troops, will your empty shell be able to hold up?"
"The rebels will immediately see through your true intentions!"

Lieutenant Colonel William Lordwick nearly shed tears by the end: "Do you really think I want to leave my men in isolated outposts and watch them be wiped out one by one?"

"Isn't this all to buy time for you, for the Southern Army?!"
“I’m begging you to let me carry out a suicide mission, don’t you understand? Commander!!!” But Jason Cornelis still politely and firmly demanded that Lieutenant Colonel Lordwijk withdraw his forward troops.

The two sides broke up unhappy.

……

“I’m still worried about Lieutenant Colonel Lordwijk,” Fritz said, his brow furrowed with concern. “Commander.”

“William Lordwick is a competent soldier. He’ll get very angry, but he’ll obey orders,” Cornelius said dismissively. “No need to explain anything to him.”

"Yes……"

“But I must say, Chief of Staff,” Lieutenant Colonel Montecochli said gravely, “even if we bring back Lieutenant Colonel Lordwijk’s troops, we still have far too few men—for this city.”

"Even Constantine had eight thousand warriors. We only have four battalions, two of which are new recruits."

"Of course, we also have four large battalions of Paratus. But I really don't know whether it's better to have them or not."

"Therefore, Chief, even without considering the troops that may need to be assigned to monitor the city's movements, the walls of Kings' Castle are still too long for us."

Cornelius, with his back to the crowd, gazed into the distance in a daze, then suddenly spoke: "Less than eight thousand."

“Uh… what did you say?” Montecochli didn’t react immediately.

“I say,” Cornelius turned and looked around at his men, including the Inspector General of Artillery, and corrected with a smile but a serious tone, “that the defenders of Constantine have fewer than eight thousand.”

Cornelius, as if reciting a familiar story, said with great interest: "According to the memoirs of the last Römer Emperor's secretary, the garrison at Constantine consisted of only 4,773 Hiren and less than 3,000 foreigners. Therefore, the garrison at Constantine was 'less than 8,000'."

"Of those, only three thousand foreigners had actually received military training—which is quite similar to our situation."

As a senior faculty member at the Allied Army Academy, Montecoch was already used to his superior's extensive knowledge and even somewhat disgusted by his chief's habit of constantly quoting books, citing war examples, and presenting data.

So, relying on his seniority, the head of the artillery teaching and research office retorted in front of others, "Even if it's less than eight thousand, it's still more than our current numbers! And don't forget, Kostannye eventually fell!"

Cornelius was always exceptionally tolerant of those he admired, patiently refuting their arguments:
"However, the enemy we are dealing with is not the 'vast array' of Fremans. The walls of the Castle of Kings are also shorter than those of Constantine.

"Have faith, Raymond. Fortresses are often breached from within, and strongholds are often lost because of a loss of faith."

Montecouccoli scoffed, "Confidence won't help us defend Kingsburg."

“So I also brought your cannon,” Cornelius replied calmly.

The artillery commander was quite pleased with this and didn't say anything more.

“We are indeed too few troops for the walls of Kingsburg.” Cornelius first affirmed the conclusion of the artillery commander, then changed the subject, “So we cannot defend the walls, and it is hard to expect these stone and mortar walls to last long under the bombardment of heavy artillery.”

Cornelius pointed to the fields outside the walls of the new city: "So we must hold out outside the walls—we need to build one fortress here, and another one outside the old city."

Montakoli crossed his arms, surveying the land with his gaze and silently estimating the construction period.

Building a separate fortress outside the city walls was one of several plans that Montecuccoli and Cornelius had discussed repeatedly beforehand.

Other options include, but are not limited to: building polygonal fortresses directly on the foundation of the city walls, completely enclosing the city walls with triangular fortresses and trenches, or simply turning the new city area into a fortress.

However, the reality was far worse than anticipated, which ruled out other options for the decision-makers of the Southern Army.

The Palatine Council now has only four battalions of troops available.

Two of these battalions were the garrison troops of the Fifth and Sixth Army Corps, which were the weakest parts of the two corps—but they were the best of the best.

The remaining two battalions were "strongmen" that Grove Magnus temporarily pulled from the poor and unemployed in the city after news of the Battle of River Valley reached Kingsburg. Their fighting strength and loyalty were highly questionable.

As for the local troops—village militia, county garrison troops, and guards of autonomous cities—they no longer obey orders or proclamations, and have completely broken free from the control of the Princes' Fortress.

The Southern Army now has to defend against not only external enemies but also internal traitors.

Therefore, among the various options considered, only one path remained: to build another fort outside the city.

Because an independent fortress can not only withstand external artillery fire, but also defend against attacks from behind.

“Not enough!” Montecuccoli concluded, stating decisively, “Two outposts are not enough!”

He pointed to the island in the middle of the Shijian River: "We need to build a fort there too."

Everyone present was a little confused, because Jiangxin Island was quite a distance from the city, and the island was very desolate, with almost nothing of value except for a monastery and a long-abandoned summer palace.

“With two outposts and the city walls, our forces are already stretched thin. Should we further disperse our forces?” Fritz cautiously voiced his objection, recalling the archives he had reviewed before setting out. “I don’t seem to see any record of a struggle for the island in the history of the Kings’ Castles—the Paratulans didn’t defend it either.”

“The Paratus don’t defend themselves because they are Paratus,” the artillery commander rolled his eyes at the major, “but we are not Paratus, and the New Reclamation rebels are not Heds.”

"The Harts could pound a hundred catapults on the island and not a single wool would get in. But the New Reclamation rebels could bombard the Kings' Castles without restraint if they set up a single heavy cannon there."

"Most importantly, they will be able to block the river and restrict the movement of our warships."

“Times have changed, just you wait,” Montecouccoli curled his lip. “From now on, Margit Island will be the new meat grinder.”

"Is there enough time?" Cornelius asked calmly.

Montecoli frowned and told an artillery joke, “How many scoops of water can you scoop up to dry up the inland sea? It all depends on how big the scoops are. And how much time you have? It all depends on when the new reclamation rebels arrive.”

"Let Grove Magnus gather all the laborers he can find, I will try my best."

Cornelius nodded, then looked at another handsome young officer:

"Whether there's enough time or not depends on how well your negotiations go."

……

[One day ago]
[During a private conversation between Jason Cornelis and William Lordwick]
"What makes you so confident?" William Lordwick was practically roaring. "The rebels will definitely talk to you?"

“Of course it’s because,” Cornelius replied coldly, “that I have something they can’t do without.”

[Regarding the number of artillery pieces]
Just as there's a reference ratio of 1:12 for exchanging gold for silver, there's also an empirical formula for evaluating the number of artillery pieces an army has.
[Simply put, from the 15th and 16th centuries, when armies gradually began to regard artillery as a regular component of their forces, until the Napoleonic Wars, the ratio of infantry to artillery in a fully equipped army generally remained in the triple digits.]
[Please note that this refers to orders of magnitude, and specifically under normal circumstances when fully equipped and manned. Actual situations are always unpredictable; armies may lose or capture artillery for various reasons, but the number generally remains around this level.]
[A regiment in the Swedish army after Gustav's reforms had 1000-2000 men, initially equipped with one 3-pounder cannon, later with two 3-pounder cannons, plus independent artillery, and the ratio still fluctuated around 1000 to 1.]
During the Napoleonic Wars, the ratio of infantry to artillery was roughly 500:1, still in the triple digits.
[Therefore, a very crude but very simple algorithm was developed: divide the number of infantrymen by the number of artillery pieces. If the number is greater than one thousand, it means there are not enough artillery pieces; if it is less than one thousand, it means there are plenty of artillery pieces. The smaller the number of infantrymen, the more abundant the artillery firepower.]
[This way, we can more clearly see just how outrageous it was that Cornelius brought over forty cannons with only five hundred men.]
[And why he only brought five hundred infantrymen in his first batch, while the citizens of Zhuwangbao numbered nearly a thousand—artillerymen were also included to make up the numbers.]