Two years later, Montaigne invaded the western province of Torres. King Léon XIV had grown increasingly ambitious; already, he had declared Sorcery to be welcome in Montaigne, had got himself excommunicated, had put down an uprising led by the Church, and had declared himself Empereur. It is while visiting him two years before that the Hierophant had died of the White Plague; and Leon had been seen to wear the ring of the cardinal of Montaigne, Cardinal d'Argenteau, shortly after he had disappeared. D'Argenteau's demise and the absence of all Montaigne bishops, now gone into hiding and incapable of electing his successor, had left the Council of Cardinals short of one member. It had therefore remained unable to elect a new Hierophant; and the Concilio de la Razon, formed largely of Castillan Cardinals, had refused to grant young King Sandoval the title of Castillorum Rex, preferring instead to assume a sort of permanent regency by council.
King – no, "Empereur" Leon took this opportunity to strike at a weakened Castille. Led by his best general, Montegue (now "de Montaigne" since he had been granted the hand of Leon's youngest daughter after defeating the rebellion), Leon's armies washed over the Trade River. Barcino had fallen early on, betrayed by a Castillan, don Marcao Ontivares de Ochoa. Montaigne's armies first swept Torres, then Zepeda, then turn to march towards Aldana and San Cristobal. The country was in turmoil, the universities were closed, so my cousins and I had returned to the estancia, and Melisandre had been called home by her father.
As a last stand, uncle Andres took one of Castille's remaining armies to defend the crossing called los Vados Ganados on the Rio de Delia. All of us followed him, for we could not abandon Castille: aunt Lucia, Lucas, Miranda, and most of those of the household able to hold a weapon. We must fight for Castille, to live or die with her. Unfortunately, the other two-thirds of our forces were led by the Cardinals, the very reason Montaigne had seen so much success against our indecisive and inconsistent commanders.
Castille had brought together its last, great army in order to defeat the Montaigne crossing. Should these defenders fall, then there would be little by way of men and material to throw in the path of the Montaigne armies. Everything rested on the outcome of this battle.
The Council of Cardinals has forbidden Sandoval from taking the field and leading his armies. Consequently, the army was under a rather awkward leadership structure. The main force was that of Aldana, and was commanded by uncle Andrés. Gallegos had sent troops as well, but they were under the command of young Don Juan Verde de Gallegos, the second son of the governor of that ducado. Soldano had sent no troops, due to a massing of Voddace units on Castille's eastern border. Most of the Torres and Zepeda troops had already been destroyed or scattered. In addition, the Council of Cardinals had mustered a large peasant levy, as well as a small unit of Kreuzritter, but these were under the command of three Cardinals dispatched from Vaticine City (one of whom, Cardinal Porfiro, claimed to be in charge of the entire army, though he had no legal authority to back up that claim). Because of this, morale was poor in our camp - the soldiers were prepared to fight to defend their homeland, but many were concerned that they would be ill-used, and that their lives would be thrown away.
The plan agreed upon by all commanders called for Don Juan Verde de Gallegos and his troops to hold the left, the Aldana troops to hold the center, and the large contingent of Church levies to hold the right, while a smaller contingent (including the Kreuzritter) would act as a reserve.
There was the occasional boom of artillery and the whistle of a shell, but for the most part it was quiet. Soldiers were gathered around fires, telling stories or singing. On the far side of the river we could see the campfires of Montaigne army, likely doing pretty much the same thing.
Before the great battle began, aunt Lucia called each of us in turn and gave us her blessing. This was, I believe, some kind of arcane ritual of the Vodacce Strega; with each blessing she gave, she appeared weaker and small wounds began to appear on her face. Miranda later told me those were called Fate Lashes.
The Montaigne army struck just before first light, with no preparatory artillery bombardment. While we were not be taken exactly by surprise, this unorthodox style of attack was certainly noted by all. The Castillan forces responded by pounding the Montaigne troops mercilessly as they waded across the river, inflicting heavy losses before the armies came to grips. Disorganized by the fierce resistance, the Montaigne right crumbled before the onslaught of de Gallegos' forces, and retreated across the river, with the Castillan forces in hot pursuit. The Montaigne center seemed in danger of being flanked.
But by the end of Prime, the Montaigne artillery began hammering on the de Gallegos forces, and the battle swirled in the river itself, as Montaigne reinforcements rushed to shore up their sagging line. Castille, however, did not commit its reserves to the attack, and the battle began to bog down into a war of attrition. The de Gallegos were driven back across the river, and the Montaigne army disengaged.
Mid-morning, there was a lull in the fighting, as Montaigne and Castillan artillery engaged in a duel across the river. We reorganized our forces, and across the river the Montaigne were doing the same. By noon, Montaigne forces crossed the river again, and were met on the bloody banks by our men, who held them at the water line. A heretofore unsuspected unit of Montaigne infantry appeared on our left and slammed into de Gallegos. Juan Verde de Gallegos was killed, and the de Gallegos forces routed!
As uncle Andrés tried to shift troops to cover his flank, two of the three Cardinals broke off the engagement, decrying the battle as "lost". The Castillan right collapsed. Only Cardinal Porfiro's troops stood firm. Cardinal Porfiro himself turned command of the army temporarily over to uncle Andrés and departed the battlefield, following the others. The Castillan line now resembled a horseshoe, with uncle Andrés' center still holding the riverbank, but flanked on both ends.
To everyone's surprise, however, Cardinal Porfiro returned less than an hour later, leading the Kreuzritter. These fell on the Montaignes just as they were about to complete the encirclement of the remains of our army, doing heavy damage, though at great loss themselves. The Montaignes once again disengaged. Cardinal Porfiro and uncle Andrés conferred, and agreed to attempt to hold out until sundown, then disengage.
In mid-afternoon, the two armies once again fought an artillery duel as supplies were brought up, units reorganized, etc. Bolstered, the Montaigne army once again smashed into the Castillan forces on both flanks and the center, but with the greatest weight falling on the remaining Church levies, which crumbled. With no reserves remaining, uncle Andrés formed a circle around our remaining artillery, using it to pound the fords to slow Montaigne reinforcements. At this point the outcome of the battle seemed clear, but there was yet some question of how long we could continue to hold out.
By Vespers, the thin-stretched Castillan lines finally collapsed, and the fighting became confused as the two armies intermingled. The remaining Castillans fought frantically against overwhelming odds, and a small portion of the army managed to cut its way out of the Montaigne encirclement as the sun set and the battle ended. We were fighting like demons, even those like me whose skills were meagre.
Towards the end of the battle, Lucas, Miranda, and I were captured by the enemy. After a short while we were brought before general Montegue. I did not speak Montaigne, but it was clear that the Montaigne officers were all furious. Montegue, however, remained nearly impassive. With the help of an interpreter, he arranged a truce so the two sides could trade prisoners and attend to the wounded. We were much surprised at the length of the truce, forty-eight hours. Although we suspected treachery, we could not refuse the offer. In the end, Montegue proved true to his word. We returned to the Castillan side and the truce held. Soon after, most of the Montaigne army departed, leaving only sufficient forces to defend the recent gains.
The Castillan army was severely mauled. Aside from this battle, we had also held at El Moro and La Muralla Ultima, but we were in no shape to take advantage of the apparent opportunity. It was all we could do to hold on to our own side. We later learned that Empereur Leon had ordered Montegue to attack Ussura. The bizarre strategy left our military command, such as it was, baffled and uneasy.
Tragically, we never found aunt Lucia after the battle. We did not know whether she was dead or alive. Uncle Andrès was deeply hurt by the loss, but his duties as King Sandoval's advisor and, I might add, almost protector, kept him too busy to sink in the sorrow that washed over him at first.
