I would also assume that like Mongols and cowboys, their horses would be rather smaller than what a European would think of as a 'warhorse'. I'm guessing light cavalry, rather than heavy, for instance. Maybe even smaller than that.
Lands of Red and Gold, Act II
- Thread starter Jared
- Start date
I would also assume that like Mongols and cowboys, their horses would be rather smaller than what a European would think of as a 'warhorse'. I'm guessing light cavalry, rather than heavy, for instance. Maybe even smaller than that.
If you ever find yourself alone in their editor's office, do not rifle through her papers; she has a really explosive disposition.
Some times it can be fun coming up with lines like that. Although the idea of these closing quotes is more than just amusement. It's also meant to give enough foreshadowing about the Nine Years' War that readers will have something of an idea of what's going on by the time it comes to write about the next set-piece section of this timeline.
I'm not 100% sure what breeding stock the first Aururian horses would be imported from. If they are descended from larger European horses, then they may be bigger than the Mongols would have preferred.
Jared, how deeply have horses penetrated Tjarrlinghi culture?
I mean, they adopted them relatively recently and use them extensively for war, but have horses become deeply ingrained in their mythology, their art their entire lifestyle. How much has Tjarrlinghi culture changed to accommodate horses?
I mean, they adopted them relatively recently and use them extensively for war, but have horses become deeply ingrained in their mythology, their art their entire lifestyle. How much has Tjarrlinghi culture changed to accommodate horses?
Jared did point out that Tjarrlinghi lifestyle is entirely contingent on horses, so it only follows that every other aspect of their culture would be deeply entwined with their equiculture.
Another question I had for Jared, do the Tjarrlinghi, or indeed any other boviculture practicing Aururians at this point, produce cheese? How is the dairy put to use? How do Tjarrlinghi make use of mare's milk or the other products obtained from horses?
Also, what do Aururians mainly produce their alcoholic drinks from? I'd imagine yam could be one source.
It's been established that yam alcohol and stuff fermented from the gum of trees is, if not all the Aururian alcohol culture, a very large share of it.
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Yes, the cultural shift within the Yalatji and Butjupa has been huge. The closest analogue is some Native American peoples (e.g. on the Great Plains) who abandoned agriculture after the introduction of the horse, and took up a semi-nomadic lifestyle hunting buffalo [1]. The Yalatji-Butjupa are (mostly) herders rather than hunters these days, and still have some limited use of agriculture and poultry (aka ducks), but that's still the closest comparison. The horse, and cattle, have become entwined with their mythology, art, social structure, you name it.
[1] aka American bison. Yes, I know the difference. I just don't care.
Despite rumours, the Orange Bible does not in fact state "Blessed are the cheesemakers". Even if it did say that, obviously it's not meant to be taken literally. It refers to any manufacturer of dairy products.
Generally speaking, the Butjupa and Yalatji are too nomadic to prepare - and, more importantly, store - cheese. Not all of their cattle are dairy cattle; many are raised just for meat. Of those which do produce milk, that is either drunk fresh or, more commonly, fermented to produce yoghurt. Yoghurt is a significant part of their diet these days.
In most of Aururia, ganyu (aka yam wine) is the everyday alcoholic beverage. This has been a staple drink since the very early days of Aururian agriculture, and the practice spread to many other parts of Aururia together with agriculture.
In the Five Rivers, there is a whole set of industries based around flavouring ganyu with various spices and some other products, particularly a kind of berry which will become known in the wider world as wineberry. Most regions of the Five Rivers have their own traditional methods and choice of spices, making the regional varieties quite distinctive.
The other main alcoholic drink is a kind of cider which is fermented from the sap of a tree grown in *Tasmania, the cider gum. This was used historically by the Palawa (Tasmanian Aborigines) as a drink; ITTL, it became a major plantation crop that was exported to the mainland as a premium beverage.
Alcoholic consumption in the east coast, while it exists, is lower since they drink other flavoured beverages there. In particular, jeeree (lemon tea) is an important everyday (and, sometimes, ceremonial) drink on the east coast.
What about dried curds ("farmer's cheese") and other simpler to produce cheeses, which just require some acid, if not casein, and then straining and drying? Wouldn't cheese be an easy thing to do for nomads, considering it doesn't require too much effort, and stores really well? Central Asian nomads have produced cheese for a while now (also because of lactose intolerance).
That depends on the kind of farmers' cheese. Even some kinds of farmers' cheese requires the production of rennet, not just acid. Of course, there are varieties that do not (e.g. Indian paneer), and equivalents to those would be possible. I'm not sure of the most likely source of acid, but I'm sure they could find something, from vinegar if nothing else.
An addendum to my last post on this. I should mention that since European contact, there is another prominent form of alcohol: rum. The Nuttana distil molasses into rum in various stills attached to their sugar plantations. This is even an area where they're experimenting with early branding: the most common exported form of rum is Gideetjoo ("Redbeard") Rum.
Lands of Red and Gold #107: Sword of Harmony
Lands of Red and Gold #107: Sword of Harmony
“Today Mullumba [Petrie], tomorrow the League!”
- Reported words of the Hunter after receiving the submission of Mullumba, the first League City to yield during the First Yaluma [Crusade]
* * *
Carl Ashkettle writes so quickly that his hand starts to cramp. So many details, so many explanations come so rapidly from the man who calls himself Clements. From the man who, by his own account, has lived for three centuries and witnessed untold suffering during that time. Clements has told about death, war, famine and pestilence, of what he called the Time of the Great Dying. It is not without irony, then, that Ashkettle notes that when talking about the last part of the Great Dying, the one that is most directly human-inflicted, Clements looks the most alive.
Of all of Clements’ account, nothing has intrigued Ashkettle more than the tales of the Hunter. The closest thing that the pagan Tjarrlinghi have to a patron saint. The man whose name brought fear to a continent. The man whose valour, piety and courage live on in the popular imagination two centuries later. The man who transformed Tjarrlinghi from a minor sect followed by two backwards peoples into a major religion. The man whose reputation and lightning conquests were so fearsome that he provoked people to flee halfway across the globe to escape him.
And now, Ashkettle is the man who can interview the last living memory of the Hunter and his times. Is it any wonder, then, that he writes so fast that his fingers want to fall off?
Clements says, “The battle of Wu Yung Fields, just outside Nyandra [Indooroopilly], was when the wider world learned of the Hunter’s prowess. Before, they knew at most of some vague warlord fighting amongst the barbarous peoples of the interior. After, they knew of a man who had united two nations and come near to conquering a third with a single battle.”
“Wu Yung Fields did not end the fighting. It did not even capture Nyandra,” Ashkettle says. He knows a little of the First Crusade, unlike most of the others.
“It ensured what mattered: victory. At Wu Yung Fields were gathered the pride of the Kiyungu, their most experienced soldiers from the majority of their cities. They chose to fight there, rather than wait out the siege, because they were confident of victory. The Hunter routed them utterly. The yolk of Kiyungu soldiery [1] dead, wounded or scattered, and in many cases with the survivors recruited to join the Hunter’s forces. Battles remained, several of them, but at the time we knew that victory awaited us.”
Clements shrugs. “Or so I recall it now. Perhaps my recollections are tainted with the later victories. So it is with eyewitness accounts, as you would know as well as I. What I tell you is correct to the best of my recollection, but I cannot guarantee whether every detail is entirely accurate.”
“In any case: I served as a herald then, as I did for several more years. Kullerin, I called myself then. I carried the blood-stained banner – a replica, of course – for some of those parleys. My memories of the battle and its leadup are perhaps not what you would like, but they are what they are. Before the battle, I was with the Hunter south of the Riversea – sorry, the Widjama [Brisbane River]. We were there for several days – four, I think – to watch the movement of the southern force, survey possible fields of battle, and determine if we would need to fight two battles at once. As it happened, we did not need to; the southern forces moved too slowly. The Hunter and I moved back over the Riversea by captured boat the night before the battle.
“The Hunter led the battle the next day, of course, but because the parley had happened the day before, I was not involved as a herald. During the battle itself, I had naught to do except wait and run messages if required. I needed to carry none, for the battle went according to the Hunter’s plan and he did not need to order any bands to change their actions.”
“And what happened after the battle?”
“We celebrated. Or rather, most of us celebrated. The Hunter did not; he seldom indulged in festivities, being usually too concerned with what to do next. He spent his time recruiting prospective warriors from among the prisoners and wounded. He had some success, too, although that was the beginning of the process, not an instant recruitment moment.
“And then… the days blur together, as they often did. The southern Kiyungu forces remained on the far side of the Riversea, well back from the banks, watching, waiting, but never showing any inclination to cross. So the Hunter did what he always preferred: a bold stroke. He rode to the nearest northward League city, Mullumba [Petrie], with two cavalry bands and a handful of Kiyungu recruits who had sworn to the way of the Heir [i.e. converted to Tjarrlinghi]. And he demanded their surrender.”
“You were at that parley?”
“Of course. I was his herald. One of his heralds. The Hunter was audacious, as he always was. He demanded that Mullumba submit to his rule. He said that many of its soldiers were already fallen – it sent the largest part of the force defeated at the Fields – and some had already joined him with honour. He said that the king must abdicate, since he had refused a previous demand to submit, but that the king – whose name, I must admit, I cannot recall – could travel safely to any other city he wished, and would never be harmed so long as he did not attempt to return to Mullumba.”
“The king surrendered?” Ashkettle says. The histories he has read were vague on that point.
“The king was deposed, I believe, by his cousin, who decided that he would rather serve under the victorious Hunter than risk massacre if the Hunter chose to siege Mullumba, too. The cousin submitted to the Hunter. The first League city had fallen, and as it is said, the world changed forever.”
* * *
The Kiyungu League was a loose confederation of eleven formally independent city-states, whose monarchs were all part of the same (very extended) family. They had always been inclined to squabble amongst themselves, with warfare usually ending in the payment of tribute or cession of some territory or satellite towns. The League had no formal central ruler, although in practice one or two cities were usually the de facto heads of the League. In the early eighteenth century, the leading League city was Kabeebilla [Caboolture].
The League had been part of the Nuttana informal colonial and religious sphere of influence for the last four or five decades. Warfare was usually ended via mediation from Nuttana priest-diplomats, and the population had largely converted to Plirism. The Nuttana had control over most of Kiyungu spice and food exports, and in turn were the main suppliers of European goods to the League, together with sugar and related Nuttana products. In practice, the League and other Kiyungu lands were together the Nuttana’s most important colony.
Unfortunately for the Nuttana, the Hunter was to change all of this in one lightning campaign.
The Hunter’s campaign relied on several advantages: a massive superiority in cavalry and firearms; a united, veteran military force with experienced and talented commanders; his never to be underestimated personal charisma and ability to inspire his forces; and an astute understanding of diplomacy and negotiation.
The Hunter’s first blow, the siege of Nyandra, could not have been better chosen to provoke a strong mobilisation from the League cities. Nyandra was considered to be third amongst the League, and allowing its fall would shatter the League’s credibility as a defensive alliance. Being located near the centre of League territory, a move against Nyandra meant that almost all League cities felt threatened enough to send relief forces.
In better times, Nyandra would have held food stores to last two or more years, but the long era of plagues, warfare, and food exports to the Nuttana meant that it held, at most, a year’s worth (one harvest of each crop). Nyandra was one of many Kiyungu cities which relied on fishing for part of their food supply, but being built above the flood line, it could be cut off from its river access. This meant that Nyandra might run out of food relatively soon, and the external forces did not know exactly how bad the situation was.
These factors meant that there was considerable pressure on the League forces to engage the besiegers in battle quickly. This, together with their apparent superiority in numbers, meant that the northern League forces chose to fight the immediate battle of Wu Yung Fields, with devastating consequences. The relief force was crushed and scattered by cavalry manoeuvres, with many taken prisoner and the rest dead or routed.
Besides the obvious military advantages of such a victory, it also had significant political consequences. The League cities lost their political unity. The southern League forces, on the wrong side of the Riversea, were not able to deploy quickly across the river, and they had lost all motivation to do so. The northern League cities were now more concerned with ensuring their individual survival than working together, since they now feared to fight the Hunter’s forces in open battle.
With victory at Wu Yung Fields, the Hunter could now turn to a campaign of subduing individual League cities. After ensuring that the siege of Nyandra still held, and after resting his forces, he marched on the nearest northerly League city, Mullumba, and successfully negotiated its submission. The old monarch was exiled, while a new monarch was crowned who publicly submitted to the Hunter’s rule, committed to follow Tjarrling ways, and had a Yalatji “advisor” who was in effect the military governor of the city.
The Hunter had some success recruiting and converting (not necessarily in that order) the captives of Wu Yung Fields. While he was not foolish enough to give them a role where they could easily betray him, he used some of them to supplement the siege of Nyandra both in preventing breakouts, and in experimenting with siege weaponry. With some horsepower freed, he ordered some of his cavalry commanders to make raids further north into League territory, not to capture cities but to frighten the populace and preferably drive them into the cities, where they could start to exhaust their supplies of food.
The Tjarrlinghi early experiments with siege weapons were not a notable success. Nyandra’s capture came – as many sieges have historically ended – due to betrayal from within. A few Nyandran soldiers, fearing their likely fate if the siege continued, arranged to open a city gate at night in exchange for safety for themselves and their family. Nyandra was thus captured on 2 December 1709, followed by the massacre of many of the inhabitants, and the execution of the king.
The Hunter now deliberately sought to split the League. He continued to send no messages further south, leaving the southern League forces of Mungaree [Meadowbrook], Gunowa [Upper Coomera], and Butjira [Nerang] without any clear response. Instead, he travelled north with his best warbands, and allied Kiyungu infantry, with the heralds proclaiming the message to each city-state in turn: surrender now and enjoy Mullumba’s fortune, or hold out and share Nyandra’s fate.
The de facto head of the League, Kabeebilla, temporised, saying that its monarch needed to seek guidance from the priests before making a decision. The Hunter replied, “Contemplate and seek guidance from within. I will deploy my forces around your walls to prevent any interference coming from without.”
With Kabeebilla under (polite) siege, the Hunter kept going further north. The League had four cities north of Kabeebilla. Of those, three surrendered: Kutjigerra [Maroochydore], Munyiratta [Nambour], and Mundaroona [Caloundra]. The Hunter accepted the submission of the monarchs, but sent many of the sons and daughters of the monarchs and leading citizens to his capital of Cankoona [Toowoomba]. These honoured guests were there to help ensure their home cities’ good behaviour.
Only the northernmost city of Kabigara [Noosa Heads] refused; that city had not sent any soldiers to the relief of Nyandra, and so felt itself secure within its walls. The Hunter left it alone for the time being, setting about reorganising the new cities under his rule, converting the chosen priests and administrators, and judging which soldiers could be reliably recruited.
On 28 February 1710, the Hunter brought his enlarged forces back to Kabeebilla, and told the king: “The time for contemplation is over. You have only two possible answers: siege or submission.” The king was inclined to say no, but had to abdicate due to the threat of indigestion (steel causing much alimentary upset), and his successor yielded the city.
The Hunter ordered a siege of Kabigara, in the far north of the League, which began a few days later. The trio of southern League cities in the field maintained their defiance, bolstered by frantic Nuttana shipments of muskets, and by the belief that the Tjarrlinghi forces were over-extended due to the northern siege.
Their confidence was sadly misplaced. They did not make the same mistake of forcing battle in extremely open terrain that the northern League forces had done at Wu Yung Fields, but they had not narrowed the fundamental military gap. The southern League forces now had more muskets, but limited practice at marksmanship, smaller supplies of powder, and little knowledge of how to integrate muskets effectively into their existing tactics.
The field battles in the southern campaign were not quite as disastrous as Wu Yung Fields, but they were deadly enough that the League forces retreated into their respective cities, and from there they were besieged one by one. The Hunter ordered Mungaree sacked as an example; with that fresh reminder, the remaining two cities capitulated.
The southernmost League city of Woginee [Tweed Heads] had maintained non-involvement through all of the First Yaluma; during the initial call for relief forces for Nyandra, Woginee had declined on the grounds that it needed its forces local to protect against more southerly threats. With the appearance of the Tjarrlinghi forces, the monarch of Woginee did not need any further encouragement, and submitted.
The League was now broken in all but name, in a campaign which had lasted less than a year. Only Kabigara [Noosa Heads], in the furthest north, held out; unlike many of the other League cities, Kabigara had direct sea access, and so could be resupplied indefinitely. While the siege continued, under the command of two trusted Warego [heroes / commanders], the Hunter nevertheless declared that his great Yaluma [search / struggle / crusade] had been successfully concluded.
* * *
10 November 1711
Tukka Nyukka [Maryborough] (independent Kiyungu city-state)
Late afternoon, late spring. Lamburra’s favourite time of the year, before the heat of summer, after the day’s work was done. Although, if he had to be honest with himself, he did not need to do much work these days. That was why a man had workers, after all. Let them move goods in and out of the warehouse; he dealt with the merchants and traders who came, mostly by sea, and who needed somewhere to store their goods.
Kogung’s hosting-house [inn / pub], conveniently near the docks and his warehouse, was the best place to enjoy Lumbarra’s favourite time. Outside, beneath the shade of the venerable bunya tree, with a cup of finest Gideetjoo rum in his hand [2], he could enjoy the last hours of the day.
Sadly, enjoyment was harder to find, these days. Lumbarra was amongst the wealthiest men in Tukka Nyukka, but that did not offer him security from the astonishing tales that had come out of the south. The Yalatji had always been an occasional problem further south, raiding and causing trouble. They had never come as far as Tukka Nyukka, though, which was why the city had never joined the League.
Now, the Yalatji were not occasional raiders. They were a conquering army of Horse-Men, under the command of some visionary who called himself the Seeker. In scarce a year, they had all but conquered the League; only Kabigara still defied their rule. How much longer would it be before that city fell and the Horse-Men came to threaten Tukka Nyukka, too?
That question had been increasingly on Lumbarra’s mind, of late. This afternoon was no different, as he sat along the bench together with several of the city’s wealthiest men. Conversation was desultory; for all of the fineness of the afternoon, everyone seemed engrossed in their rum.
At length, Lumbarra said, “Tukka Nyukka cannot be made safe. I just cannot see how.”
The men looked up from their drinking. Nhumee Djara, chief scribe of the city, said, “The Nuttana, perhaps-”
“The Nuttana could not save the League from falling, save one city, and that is imperilled.”
Nhumee said, “Even so, they could-”
“Not do enough,” Lumbarra said. “I fear that anything they could do would be too late, if they could do anything at all.”
Gumboo, a wealthy spice broker, said, “Perhaps we should flee.”
“Where to?” Lumbarra sighed. “These Horse-Men can ride anywhere they wish, it seems.”
Someone sat down at the bench beside him, and placed his cup of rum on the table. Mulganba Mudontji, a Nuttana trading-captain who had been in the city for several days without seeming to complete any trade deals.
Mulganba said, “So determined to leave your home city?”
Lumbarra gave the Nuttana captain a long stare, and knew he was not the only man to do so. At length, he said, “Your forefathers did the same, and witness the fortune it brought you.”
Nhumee said, “But where could we flee? Even the Nuttana are not far enough away; I fear that they will march up the coast taking city after city.”
“You give these Horse-Men too much credit,” Mulganba said. “They will not find it so easy to march north.”
Lumbarra said, “What is to stop them? Oh, they will not be at the gates of Wujal next year. But no-one dares face them in battle, and they will not cease conquering until they are firmly defeated.”
Gumboo said, “If we must flee, it should be somewhere that their horses cannot ride after us.”
Mulganba raised an eyebrow. “Somewhere across the waves, perhaps?”
Lumbarra laughed. “What island is there worth having? If it is already full of men, then we would need to fight them; battle here would be preferable to battle far away. And no island would be safe from bloodthirsty Māori coming raiding.”
“Unless it is full of malaria, where even the Māori dare not tread,” Gumboo said.
“Where does that leave?” Lumbarra said resignedly.
“Nowhere,” Nhumee said.
Mulganba said, “If you are determined to flee, I know a place.”
* * *
[1] In historical English, the equivalent saying would be “the cream of Kiyungu soldiery.”
[2] Rum is produced by the Nuttana, in far northern Aururia. Their sugar plantations allow for valuable exports of sugar itself, but the Nuttana have learned to make use of the molasses as an otherwise low-value by-product, and distil it into rum. Rum is part of their exports, and in typical Nuttana style, they have a variety of brands (from the different distilleries) that are used to mark the barrels. Gideetjoo (“Redbeard”) rum is one of the most valued, and is exported to much of coastal eastern Aururia, and into Aotearoa.
* * *
Thoughts?
“Today Mullumba [Petrie], tomorrow the League!”
- Reported words of the Hunter after receiving the submission of Mullumba, the first League City to yield during the First Yaluma [Crusade]
* * *
Carl Ashkettle writes so quickly that his hand starts to cramp. So many details, so many explanations come so rapidly from the man who calls himself Clements. From the man who, by his own account, has lived for three centuries and witnessed untold suffering during that time. Clements has told about death, war, famine and pestilence, of what he called the Time of the Great Dying. It is not without irony, then, that Ashkettle notes that when talking about the last part of the Great Dying, the one that is most directly human-inflicted, Clements looks the most alive.
Of all of Clements’ account, nothing has intrigued Ashkettle more than the tales of the Hunter. The closest thing that the pagan Tjarrlinghi have to a patron saint. The man whose name brought fear to a continent. The man whose valour, piety and courage live on in the popular imagination two centuries later. The man who transformed Tjarrlinghi from a minor sect followed by two backwards peoples into a major religion. The man whose reputation and lightning conquests were so fearsome that he provoked people to flee halfway across the globe to escape him.
And now, Ashkettle is the man who can interview the last living memory of the Hunter and his times. Is it any wonder, then, that he writes so fast that his fingers want to fall off?
Clements says, “The battle of Wu Yung Fields, just outside Nyandra [Indooroopilly], was when the wider world learned of the Hunter’s prowess. Before, they knew at most of some vague warlord fighting amongst the barbarous peoples of the interior. After, they knew of a man who had united two nations and come near to conquering a third with a single battle.”
“Wu Yung Fields did not end the fighting. It did not even capture Nyandra,” Ashkettle says. He knows a little of the First Crusade, unlike most of the others.
“It ensured what mattered: victory. At Wu Yung Fields were gathered the pride of the Kiyungu, their most experienced soldiers from the majority of their cities. They chose to fight there, rather than wait out the siege, because they were confident of victory. The Hunter routed them utterly. The yolk of Kiyungu soldiery [1] dead, wounded or scattered, and in many cases with the survivors recruited to join the Hunter’s forces. Battles remained, several of them, but at the time we knew that victory awaited us.”
Clements shrugs. “Or so I recall it now. Perhaps my recollections are tainted with the later victories. So it is with eyewitness accounts, as you would know as well as I. What I tell you is correct to the best of my recollection, but I cannot guarantee whether every detail is entirely accurate.”
“In any case: I served as a herald then, as I did for several more years. Kullerin, I called myself then. I carried the blood-stained banner – a replica, of course – for some of those parleys. My memories of the battle and its leadup are perhaps not what you would like, but they are what they are. Before the battle, I was with the Hunter south of the Riversea – sorry, the Widjama [Brisbane River]. We were there for several days – four, I think – to watch the movement of the southern force, survey possible fields of battle, and determine if we would need to fight two battles at once. As it happened, we did not need to; the southern forces moved too slowly. The Hunter and I moved back over the Riversea by captured boat the night before the battle.
“The Hunter led the battle the next day, of course, but because the parley had happened the day before, I was not involved as a herald. During the battle itself, I had naught to do except wait and run messages if required. I needed to carry none, for the battle went according to the Hunter’s plan and he did not need to order any bands to change their actions.”
“And what happened after the battle?”
“We celebrated. Or rather, most of us celebrated. The Hunter did not; he seldom indulged in festivities, being usually too concerned with what to do next. He spent his time recruiting prospective warriors from among the prisoners and wounded. He had some success, too, although that was the beginning of the process, not an instant recruitment moment.
“And then… the days blur together, as they often did. The southern Kiyungu forces remained on the far side of the Riversea, well back from the banks, watching, waiting, but never showing any inclination to cross. So the Hunter did what he always preferred: a bold stroke. He rode to the nearest northward League city, Mullumba [Petrie], with two cavalry bands and a handful of Kiyungu recruits who had sworn to the way of the Heir [i.e. converted to Tjarrlinghi]. And he demanded their surrender.”
“You were at that parley?”
“Of course. I was his herald. One of his heralds. The Hunter was audacious, as he always was. He demanded that Mullumba submit to his rule. He said that many of its soldiers were already fallen – it sent the largest part of the force defeated at the Fields – and some had already joined him with honour. He said that the king must abdicate, since he had refused a previous demand to submit, but that the king – whose name, I must admit, I cannot recall – could travel safely to any other city he wished, and would never be harmed so long as he did not attempt to return to Mullumba.”
“The king surrendered?” Ashkettle says. The histories he has read were vague on that point.
“The king was deposed, I believe, by his cousin, who decided that he would rather serve under the victorious Hunter than risk massacre if the Hunter chose to siege Mullumba, too. The cousin submitted to the Hunter. The first League city had fallen, and as it is said, the world changed forever.”
* * *
The Kiyungu League was a loose confederation of eleven formally independent city-states, whose monarchs were all part of the same (very extended) family. They had always been inclined to squabble amongst themselves, with warfare usually ending in the payment of tribute or cession of some territory or satellite towns. The League had no formal central ruler, although in practice one or two cities were usually the de facto heads of the League. In the early eighteenth century, the leading League city was Kabeebilla [Caboolture].
The League had been part of the Nuttana informal colonial and religious sphere of influence for the last four or five decades. Warfare was usually ended via mediation from Nuttana priest-diplomats, and the population had largely converted to Plirism. The Nuttana had control over most of Kiyungu spice and food exports, and in turn were the main suppliers of European goods to the League, together with sugar and related Nuttana products. In practice, the League and other Kiyungu lands were together the Nuttana’s most important colony.
Unfortunately for the Nuttana, the Hunter was to change all of this in one lightning campaign.
The Hunter’s campaign relied on several advantages: a massive superiority in cavalry and firearms; a united, veteran military force with experienced and talented commanders; his never to be underestimated personal charisma and ability to inspire his forces; and an astute understanding of diplomacy and negotiation.
The Hunter’s first blow, the siege of Nyandra, could not have been better chosen to provoke a strong mobilisation from the League cities. Nyandra was considered to be third amongst the League, and allowing its fall would shatter the League’s credibility as a defensive alliance. Being located near the centre of League territory, a move against Nyandra meant that almost all League cities felt threatened enough to send relief forces.
In better times, Nyandra would have held food stores to last two or more years, but the long era of plagues, warfare, and food exports to the Nuttana meant that it held, at most, a year’s worth (one harvest of each crop). Nyandra was one of many Kiyungu cities which relied on fishing for part of their food supply, but being built above the flood line, it could be cut off from its river access. This meant that Nyandra might run out of food relatively soon, and the external forces did not know exactly how bad the situation was.
These factors meant that there was considerable pressure on the League forces to engage the besiegers in battle quickly. This, together with their apparent superiority in numbers, meant that the northern League forces chose to fight the immediate battle of Wu Yung Fields, with devastating consequences. The relief force was crushed and scattered by cavalry manoeuvres, with many taken prisoner and the rest dead or routed.
Besides the obvious military advantages of such a victory, it also had significant political consequences. The League cities lost their political unity. The southern League forces, on the wrong side of the Riversea, were not able to deploy quickly across the river, and they had lost all motivation to do so. The northern League cities were now more concerned with ensuring their individual survival than working together, since they now feared to fight the Hunter’s forces in open battle.
With victory at Wu Yung Fields, the Hunter could now turn to a campaign of subduing individual League cities. After ensuring that the siege of Nyandra still held, and after resting his forces, he marched on the nearest northerly League city, Mullumba, and successfully negotiated its submission. The old monarch was exiled, while a new monarch was crowned who publicly submitted to the Hunter’s rule, committed to follow Tjarrling ways, and had a Yalatji “advisor” who was in effect the military governor of the city.
The Hunter had some success recruiting and converting (not necessarily in that order) the captives of Wu Yung Fields. While he was not foolish enough to give them a role where they could easily betray him, he used some of them to supplement the siege of Nyandra both in preventing breakouts, and in experimenting with siege weaponry. With some horsepower freed, he ordered some of his cavalry commanders to make raids further north into League territory, not to capture cities but to frighten the populace and preferably drive them into the cities, where they could start to exhaust their supplies of food.
The Tjarrlinghi early experiments with siege weapons were not a notable success. Nyandra’s capture came – as many sieges have historically ended – due to betrayal from within. A few Nyandran soldiers, fearing their likely fate if the siege continued, arranged to open a city gate at night in exchange for safety for themselves and their family. Nyandra was thus captured on 2 December 1709, followed by the massacre of many of the inhabitants, and the execution of the king.
The Hunter now deliberately sought to split the League. He continued to send no messages further south, leaving the southern League forces of Mungaree [Meadowbrook], Gunowa [Upper Coomera], and Butjira [Nerang] without any clear response. Instead, he travelled north with his best warbands, and allied Kiyungu infantry, with the heralds proclaiming the message to each city-state in turn: surrender now and enjoy Mullumba’s fortune, or hold out and share Nyandra’s fate.
The de facto head of the League, Kabeebilla, temporised, saying that its monarch needed to seek guidance from the priests before making a decision. The Hunter replied, “Contemplate and seek guidance from within. I will deploy my forces around your walls to prevent any interference coming from without.”
With Kabeebilla under (polite) siege, the Hunter kept going further north. The League had four cities north of Kabeebilla. Of those, three surrendered: Kutjigerra [Maroochydore], Munyiratta [Nambour], and Mundaroona [Caloundra]. The Hunter accepted the submission of the monarchs, but sent many of the sons and daughters of the monarchs and leading citizens to his capital of Cankoona [Toowoomba]. These honoured guests were there to help ensure their home cities’ good behaviour.
Only the northernmost city of Kabigara [Noosa Heads] refused; that city had not sent any soldiers to the relief of Nyandra, and so felt itself secure within its walls. The Hunter left it alone for the time being, setting about reorganising the new cities under his rule, converting the chosen priests and administrators, and judging which soldiers could be reliably recruited.
On 28 February 1710, the Hunter brought his enlarged forces back to Kabeebilla, and told the king: “The time for contemplation is over. You have only two possible answers: siege or submission.” The king was inclined to say no, but had to abdicate due to the threat of indigestion (steel causing much alimentary upset), and his successor yielded the city.
The Hunter ordered a siege of Kabigara, in the far north of the League, which began a few days later. The trio of southern League cities in the field maintained their defiance, bolstered by frantic Nuttana shipments of muskets, and by the belief that the Tjarrlinghi forces were over-extended due to the northern siege.
Their confidence was sadly misplaced. They did not make the same mistake of forcing battle in extremely open terrain that the northern League forces had done at Wu Yung Fields, but they had not narrowed the fundamental military gap. The southern League forces now had more muskets, but limited practice at marksmanship, smaller supplies of powder, and little knowledge of how to integrate muskets effectively into their existing tactics.
The field battles in the southern campaign were not quite as disastrous as Wu Yung Fields, but they were deadly enough that the League forces retreated into their respective cities, and from there they were besieged one by one. The Hunter ordered Mungaree sacked as an example; with that fresh reminder, the remaining two cities capitulated.
The southernmost League city of Woginee [Tweed Heads] had maintained non-involvement through all of the First Yaluma; during the initial call for relief forces for Nyandra, Woginee had declined on the grounds that it needed its forces local to protect against more southerly threats. With the appearance of the Tjarrlinghi forces, the monarch of Woginee did not need any further encouragement, and submitted.
The League was now broken in all but name, in a campaign which had lasted less than a year. Only Kabigara [Noosa Heads], in the furthest north, held out; unlike many of the other League cities, Kabigara had direct sea access, and so could be resupplied indefinitely. While the siege continued, under the command of two trusted Warego [heroes / commanders], the Hunter nevertheless declared that his great Yaluma [search / struggle / crusade] had been successfully concluded.
* * *
10 November 1711
Tukka Nyukka [Maryborough] (independent Kiyungu city-state)
Late afternoon, late spring. Lamburra’s favourite time of the year, before the heat of summer, after the day’s work was done. Although, if he had to be honest with himself, he did not need to do much work these days. That was why a man had workers, after all. Let them move goods in and out of the warehouse; he dealt with the merchants and traders who came, mostly by sea, and who needed somewhere to store their goods.
Kogung’s hosting-house [inn / pub], conveniently near the docks and his warehouse, was the best place to enjoy Lumbarra’s favourite time. Outside, beneath the shade of the venerable bunya tree, with a cup of finest Gideetjoo rum in his hand [2], he could enjoy the last hours of the day.
Sadly, enjoyment was harder to find, these days. Lumbarra was amongst the wealthiest men in Tukka Nyukka, but that did not offer him security from the astonishing tales that had come out of the south. The Yalatji had always been an occasional problem further south, raiding and causing trouble. They had never come as far as Tukka Nyukka, though, which was why the city had never joined the League.
Now, the Yalatji were not occasional raiders. They were a conquering army of Horse-Men, under the command of some visionary who called himself the Seeker. In scarce a year, they had all but conquered the League; only Kabigara still defied their rule. How much longer would it be before that city fell and the Horse-Men came to threaten Tukka Nyukka, too?
That question had been increasingly on Lumbarra’s mind, of late. This afternoon was no different, as he sat along the bench together with several of the city’s wealthiest men. Conversation was desultory; for all of the fineness of the afternoon, everyone seemed engrossed in their rum.
At length, Lumbarra said, “Tukka Nyukka cannot be made safe. I just cannot see how.”
The men looked up from their drinking. Nhumee Djara, chief scribe of the city, said, “The Nuttana, perhaps-”
“The Nuttana could not save the League from falling, save one city, and that is imperilled.”
Nhumee said, “Even so, they could-”
“Not do enough,” Lumbarra said. “I fear that anything they could do would be too late, if they could do anything at all.”
Gumboo, a wealthy spice broker, said, “Perhaps we should flee.”
“Where to?” Lumbarra sighed. “These Horse-Men can ride anywhere they wish, it seems.”
Someone sat down at the bench beside him, and placed his cup of rum on the table. Mulganba Mudontji, a Nuttana trading-captain who had been in the city for several days without seeming to complete any trade deals.
Mulganba said, “So determined to leave your home city?”
Lumbarra gave the Nuttana captain a long stare, and knew he was not the only man to do so. At length, he said, “Your forefathers did the same, and witness the fortune it brought you.”
Nhumee said, “But where could we flee? Even the Nuttana are not far enough away; I fear that they will march up the coast taking city after city.”
“You give these Horse-Men too much credit,” Mulganba said. “They will not find it so easy to march north.”
Lumbarra said, “What is to stop them? Oh, they will not be at the gates of Wujal next year. But no-one dares face them in battle, and they will not cease conquering until they are firmly defeated.”
Gumboo said, “If we must flee, it should be somewhere that their horses cannot ride after us.”
Mulganba raised an eyebrow. “Somewhere across the waves, perhaps?”
Lumbarra laughed. “What island is there worth having? If it is already full of men, then we would need to fight them; battle here would be preferable to battle far away. And no island would be safe from bloodthirsty Māori coming raiding.”
“Unless it is full of malaria, where even the Māori dare not tread,” Gumboo said.
“Where does that leave?” Lumbarra said resignedly.
“Nowhere,” Nhumee said.
Mulganba said, “If you are determined to flee, I know a place.”
* * *
[1] In historical English, the equivalent saying would be “the cream of Kiyungu soldiery.”
[2] Rum is produced by the Nuttana, in far northern Aururia. Their sugar plantations allow for valuable exports of sugar itself, but the Nuttana have learned to make use of the molasses as an otherwise low-value by-product, and distil it into rum. Rum is part of their exports, and in typical Nuttana style, they have a variety of brands (from the different distilleries) that are used to mark the barrels. Gideetjoo (“Redbeard”) rum is one of the most valued, and is exported to much of coastal eastern Aururia, and into Aotearoa.
* * *
Thoughts?
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What would the fortification systems of Kiyungu cities be like?
Would they go for low, thick stone walls for example, or series of earthworks, etc.
If you addressed it in a earlier post just point me to that instead, dont waste time re-typing it for me.
So why is it that the Aotearoa still raid? Isn't it that their trade links with the Nuttana and such keep them supplied with all they need? Or are there deeper cultural reasons remaining which aren't so easy to shake off materially?
And now that I think about it, while the Tjarrlinghi will no doubt have near uncontested domination on land, the Nuttana / Nangu and possibly the Aotearoa will still rule the seas. How is this going to play out between the Tjarrlinghi and the Nangu when it's perfectly possible for the Nangu to cut off the Tjarrlinghi from the seas?
And now that I think about it, while the Tjarrlinghi will no doubt have near uncontested domination on land, the Nuttana / Nangu and possibly the Aotearoa will still rule the seas. How is this going to play out between the Tjarrlinghi and the Nangu when it's perfectly possible for the Nangu to cut off the Tjarrlinghi from the seas?
Essentially low stone walls. Their fortifications aren't advanced enough to include much in the way of earthworks as well. Aururian fortifications in general are touched on here.
Not New Guinea; that's too full of malaria. The Kiyungu are aware enough of tropical diseases that they want no part of them. Especially malaria, which is present in far northern Aururia, albeit it much less prevalent than in New Guinea.
It's not the Congxie either, I can say that much. The Congxie have already been formed, in the last decade. I didn't give this any further description in recent posts because it was covered many posts ago in post #47.
More generally, this is the culmination of some indirct foreshadowing which was made quite a few posts ago, partly in Act I and partly in Act II. It's possible (although probably quite difficult) to figure out where the Kiyungu want to flee to, and something of their long-term fate. It's not particularly easy, though, I think. (I will point out the posts in question after this is covered; the hints are there, but not very blatant.)
Aotearoa does not really make Pakanga-style raids in mainland Aururia any more. Not to any significant degree, anyway. (There are some minor exceptions as regards *Tasmania and extreme south-eastern Aururia). The most recent "Pakanga" raid on the Kiyungu, and the one which they still remember, was in fact a French-backed conquest attempt. Aotearoans are still active as mercenaries, which was where the French obtained them.
However, Aotearoans still do launch conquest attempts on various offshore islands, e.g. Norfolk Island, New Caledonia, etc. The Kiyungu are aware of these, in a general way, and don't want to go to an island which is viewed as more tempting for the Aotearoans to go a-conquering.
The Hunter's express ambition is to bring harmony (conquer) to all lands which can be ridden to. He's not interested in going overseas. So his direct targets are places which he can reach by land. The Nuttana can still play a role in resupplying things by sea, selling weapons, etc, but they can't cut off overseas conquests because he's not trying to make any in the first place.
Unfortunately for the Nuttana, there is a land connection between their homeland and Tjarrlinghi forces.
It can be quite a lot of fun to write and read about (if not necessarily fun to experience firsthand).
How successful the Hunter will be in the long run remains to be seen, of course, but he's going to experience some considerable short-term success.
South Africa does have the advantage of being malaria-free (at least in parts), which is a definite plus. The downside is that it's already got the Dutch heavily involved by this point. There's not really any spare coastal or near-coastal regions for them to settle.
The Southern Cone has more promise, from the perspective of the Kiyungu. Disease environment is decent; Aururian crops will grow in some portions of it. The Spanish claim it, but at least in some regions their control is relatively nominal.
There is a significant downside for some regions, though. The Mapuche did a very good job of holding off the Spanish for a long time. They've also taken up the habit of horse-riding; not a prospect that will appeal to the Kiyungu. They would probably look for a Mapuche-free part of the Southern Cone.
Oh, and to add more to my previous response about the Congxie, the problems are two-fold. The Congxie are a fair distance inland, and cannot be easily migrated to from any port. (Europeans control most of the ports.). Perhaps a deal could be struck with one of the European powers - most likely the Spanish, who get on well with most Aururians by virtue of having nothing they're in competition for - but it would still be a difficult trek inland to the highlands of Appalachia.
The second problem is that this region is still very much in the malarial zone in this era. Malaria tends to scare the Kiyungu off; they have a serious phobia of it due to experiences in northern Aururia and (especially) tales from those who've been to New Guinea or other nearby tropical islands.
So the Congxie are unfortunately not a viable option for the Kiyungu at this point.
Jared, do any states or polities in Aururia import steel from abroad? I can see the advantage, for example, to importing cheap good quality European steel vs. producing it locally, because maybe manpower is lacking for large scale production, or the techniques are lacking for consistent quality.
Do you think any Aururians import (or even learned the process?) to producing wootz / Indian style crucible steel?
Do you think any Aururians import (or even learned the process?) to producing wootz / Indian style crucible steel?