Lands of Red and Gold, Act II

[dontfearme22]

Update

Just wanted to post here so people have an idea, Cochlea and I have been working for a while on the art of Atjuntja, as well as illustrations of various aspects of their military. We want to post our work relatively soon, and I think everyone might enjoy it. Jared, I can take a shot on a illustration of a Kiyungu or Tjarrling tribesman if you want. If so, any specific references to Kiyungu or Tjarrling dress would be appreciated.

 

[Jared]

Just wanted to post here so people have an idea, Cochlea and I have been working for a while on the art of Atjuntja, as well as illustrations of various aspects of their military. We want to post our work relatively soon, and I think everyone might enjoy it. Jared, I can take a shot on a illustration of a Kiyungu or Tjarrling tribesman if you want. If so, any specific references to Kiyungu or Tjarrling dress would be appreciated.

I'll send you a PM about the details of this, but thought it's important to say thanks to both of you for helping to bring LoRaG visually to life.

 

[Cochlea]

Just wanted to post here so people have an idea, Cochlea and I have been working for a while on the art of Atjuntja, as well as illustrations of various aspects of their military. We want to post our work relatively soon, and I think everyone might enjoy it. Jared, I can take a shot on a illustration of a Kiyungu or Tjarrling tribesman if you want. If so, any specific references to Kiyungu or Tjarrling dress would be appreciated.

I second this, I've enjoyed working with dontfearme22 on the Atjuntja and his art skills are great. I've suggested before to him that we might branch out and fill in the details of other branches of Aururian military history, and would definitely love working on Tjarrlinghi military due to their uniqueness, and well, because they're in the spotlight right now.

In general terms, though, Mowarin's tactics willl quite simply be to get the spearmen out of formation, however that can best be achieved. If it's via a flank charge, great. If it involves peppering them with gunfire and arrow fire, so be it. If it involves a feigned retreat to persuade them to charge, that works too. The Tjarrling horsemen are very skilled at changing formation as needed, so once the Kiyungu are out of formation, then the Tjarrlinghi can regroup/reshape as needed to best strike.

....

The "saturate with gunfire" is one of their main methods, terrain permitting. Cavalry and their manoeuvrability are their key advantage, so they will do whatever they can with that. If it can be arranged, they will prefer to hit an enemy formation in flank or rear via charge. If not, they will try other steps to break formation, such as missile fire (multiple rounds) or feigned charges. As an extreme, (since it will cost him warriors), they may make a deliberately ineffective charge into a formation, then break and run away, encouraging pursuit. Whereupon the reserves strike at the pursuers.

A charge to the flanks may be more deleterious to what seems to be Mowarin's current stratagems and goals, that being to preserve as many of his troops as possible.

Why I think that is because a spear formation (or guys with rifle and bayonet,) can quickly point their spears all around, towards the flanks or whatever, and deter any charge from making contact. So breaking the formation would pretty much require doing as much damage as possible without putting your own guys in outright danger, which I think the gun volleys somewhat guarantee.

As to whether that would guarantee a rout, I can't say with any certainty. I am only assuming that the spearmen and their commanders know that they themselves won't be able to charge and pursue the horsemen.

But what tactics did the Tjarrlinghi use against other mounted troops? I am assuming if Mowarin and his underlings understand the limitations of their own troops and type of warfare, they might be able to take advantage of that and prevent their enemies from taking advantage themselves?

 

[Jared]

A charge to the flanks may be more deleterious to what seems to be Mowarin's current stratagems and goals, that being to preserve as many of his troops as possible.

Why I think that is because a spear formation (or guys with rifle and bayonet,) can quickly point their spears all around, towards the flanks or whatever, and deter any charge from making contact.

To be more precise on my part, the Hunter's likely tactics would be to have his troops launch an apparent charge from the front (but pull up short) and, once the enemy is committed to the apparent frontal attack, have a flank charge come in. This requires exquisite timing, but that's something that the Tjarrling riders are good at. If the feint fails, then the flank charge wheels to left or right past the enemy and encourages them to break formation. (If the enemy breaks formation, the aim is accomplished anyway.)

So breaking the formation would pretty much require doing as much damage as possible without putting your own guys in outright danger, which I think the gun volleys somewhat guarantee.

As to whether that would guarantee a rout, I can't say with any certainty. I am only assuming that the spearmen and their commanders know that they themselves won't be able to charge and pursue the horsemen.

The standard Kiyungu tactic is for a slow advance with spears, not an open charge. Until the enemy is routed, anyway; after that, it's charge and pursue.

That has obvious problems when facing horsemen. The Kiyungu commanders are not idiots, but they don't have many other good options when facing gun- or bow-using cavalry. They could do a steady advance toward relieving *Indooropilly, but that leaves their supply camp undefended, and leaves the cavalry free to bypass them and raid into other cities' lands.

But what tactics did the Tjarrlinghi use against other mounted troops? I am assuming if Mowarin and his underlings understand the limitations of their own troops and type of warfare, they might be able to take advantage of that and prevent their enemies from taking advantage themselves?

The Tjarrlinghi used a combination of mounted raids and occasional full-on mass charges (on each side), gun and arrow fire and, in some cases, mounted infantry (dragoons) who took advantage of horses maneouvrability but mostly fought dismounted. Raids were their main form of combat in the pre-Hunter era; straight-up battles were rarer because raiders tended to back out of an engagement if the defenders saw the raid coming and mobilised early enough.

During the Hunter's rise (and a little before it; he wasn't the first would-be warlord), this changed into fuller engagements, where they used a combination of mass cavalry on the flanks and dragoons as anchor points for their line. When firing on foot, Tjarrlinghi dragoons have accurate enough fire (by the standards of the era) to make mass charges problematic, which is why few opponents did it.

 

[Petike]

I like how the Kiyungu and other spear-heavy cultures will have to innovate to counter the new threat of native or European cavalry. I'm predicting there's still plenty of fascinating stuff to see.

 

[Anarch King of Dipsodes]

So if Mowarin were to have his men ride past the spear formations, given good terrain, they should be able to ride past and fire right into the formation, accuracy will not be high, but the point is to pump as much lead as is possible into the tightly bunched formations so that they break and rout.

This tactic was well known in Europe as the "caracole", and was widely practiced by "reiter" cavalry in the 16th and 17th centuries. The usual firearm for this was the pistol. Usually the fire was used to weaken the target formation, then the cavalry would charge home with sword. It is very difficult to break a close order formation by missile attack alone unless the volume of fire is high. This is particularly true when there is cavalry close by; the threat of being run down by the cavalry causes even low-quality infantry to stay bunched together in the face of relatively slow, scanty incoming fire.

The answer to the tactic is to include missile troops (musketeers) in the pike formations. Massed pike formations are good targets, but so is cavalry. The plug bayonet allowed each musketeer to become his own pikeman if necessary; the ring bayonet allowed the musketeer to present a pike to the enemy while still able to fire.

 

[Cochlea]

This tactic was well known in Europe as the "caracole", and was widely practiced by "reiter" cavalry in the 16th and 17th centuries. The usual firearm for this was the pistol. Usually the fire was used to weaken the target formation, then the cavalry would charge home with sword. It is very difficult to break a close order formation by missile attack alone unless the volume of fire is high. This is particularly true when there is cavalry close by; the threat of being run down by the cavalry causes even low-quality infantry to stay bunched together in the face of relatively slow, scanty incoming fire.

The answer to the tactic is to include missile troops (musketeers) in the pike formations. Massed pike formations are good targets, but so is cavalry. The plug bayonet allowed each musketeer to become his own pikeman if necessary; the ring bayonet allowed the musketeer to present a pike to the enemy while still able to fire.

Exactly, this is what my inspiration came from, except, you know, the Tjarrlinghi don't have access to European military traditions, so have to retread the same paths and independently invent these same tactics.

Why this was common too, was that most cavalry horses will go nowhere near a wall of pikes, let alone a mass of soldiers. But a large number of horsemen riding by peppering the formation with lead (with pistol, musketoon, carbine etc.) will soften them up to a point, enough for either a sword or lance charge.

So why this is excellent against the Kiyungu, despite them being bronze age, is also their lacking too many musketmen. Jared having said that the few gunners they have being elite troops. Even if they have bayonets, they won't have much in numbers to act upon that advantage, I think.

 

[Jared]

This tactic was well known in Europe as the "caracole", and was widely practiced by "reiter" cavalry in the 16th and 17th centuries. The usual firearm for this was the pistol. Usually the fire was used to weaken the target formation, then the cavalry would charge home with sword. It is very difficult to break a close order formation by missile attack alone unless the volume of fire is high. This is particularly true when there is cavalry close by; the threat of being run down by the cavalry causes even low-quality infantry to stay bunched together in the face of relatively slow, scanty incoming fire.

This is certainly how things worked in Europe. The Tjarrlinghi are coming at things from a different perspective, but have come up with a similar solution. There are some differences, such as that the Tjarrlinghi cavalry have always used a high proportion of missile fire; they first took up horses for hunting, and so had kept up the missile tradition even with the switch to firearms.

To put it another way, the European tactic (I believe) was to weaken with gunfire then charge in with sword; the Tjarrlinghi tactic is to manoeuvre with high missile fire until the opponent breaks, then charge. Unless there is an opportunity for a flank charge while the opponent is busy dealing with the main group launching missile fire.

The answer of including missile troops in defensive formations is generally a sound one, but the Kiyungu don't have the largest number of firearms. They did not really need them as much, since their opponents mostly did not have many either (with one brief exception). So the Nuttana (who supply the firearms) sold more to Aotearoa and other places, and few to the Kiyungu.

So why this is excellent against the Kiyungu, despite them being bronze age, is also their lacking too many musketmen. Jared having said that the few gunners they have being elite troops. Even if they have bayonets, they won't have much in numbers to act upon that advantage, I think.

I don't know whether the Kiyungu will have bayonets at all. They are using muskets which were originally of Japanese manufacture, though the powder is mostly from India. Did Japanese muskets of this era have bayonets?

Regardless, as you point out, the muskets are few enough that they won't make for a substantial defensive line.

 

[Cochlea]

I don't know whether the Kiyungu will have bayonets at all. They are using muskets which were originally of Japanese manufacture, though the powder is mostly from India. Did Japanese muskets of this era have bayonets?

Regardless, as you point out, the muskets are few enough that they won't make for a substantial defensive line.

I think so, IIRC there was a tradition of bayonet fighting called "Jukendo" but I don't remember if it was developed in the 17th century, when muskets became commonplace in Japan, or during the Meiji period.

Even then, it is perfectly possible that the Kiyungu don't import bayonets or develop their own styles of bayonet combat, and thus wouldn't have formations or strategies contingent on use of bayonets.

 

[Arkenfolm]

I'm curious, what was the fate of the Raduru after the arrival of the Europeans and their plagues and warfare, or did they even survive up until that point? They were the first Aururian civilisation we were introduced to, after all.

 

[Jared]

Even then, it is perfectly possible that the Kiyungu don't import bayonets or develop their own styles of bayonet combat, and thus wouldn't have formations or strategies contingent on use of bayonets.

For the purposes of the narrative, I'll assume that even if Japanese muskets had bayonets during this period, the "export model" lacked them. The (few) Kiyungu muskets are bayonet-less.

I'm curious, what was the fate of the Raduru after the arrival of the Europeans and their plagues and warfare, or did they even survive up until that point? They were the first Aururian civilisation we were introduced to, after all.

The Raduru are still around, as one of the minor indigenous polities on the east coast. They were never very numerous, but they have survived the plagues. Europeans largely ignore them because they don't produce any spices of significance, and because the lands chosen for jeeree (lemon tea) production happen to be further south.

 

[Jared]

Lands of Red and Gold #106: King of Blades

“Proper deeds are better than wisdom.”
“Only the wise know what is proper.”
- Reported exchange between the Hunter and Pinjarra

* * *

From “Incredible Life: Immortal Clements”
By C Ashkettle (1916). Cumberland [Geelong, VIC]: Smith & Weston.

Clements provided many vivid descriptions of his life across Aururia, of events great and small, of times joyful and sorrow. Nothing, though, is more etched in my memory than his account of his rides alongside the Hunter. His countenance and voice came alive, with the memory of a time two centuries past, but intense still. When Clements spoke of the Hunter, he made that long-dead visionary come alive again.

Clements told how he adopted the name Kullerin and then rode alongside the Hunter. He served in nearly every major campaign, from the first great crusade against the Kiyungu League until the last crusade against…

* * *

16 November 1709
Mount Natingara [Mt Coot-tha]
Near Nyandra [Indooroopilly, QLD], Kiyungu League

The locals called Natingara a mountain. Compared to the highlands of the Neeburra, never mind the true highlands further south, Natingara barely rated mention as a bump in the ground.

Despite that, it offered broad views of the lowlands of these strange League men. The city of Nyandra was not far below them, with the thin blue line of a creek running down Natingara’s tree-clad slopes, then winding in the flatlands below, passing through the city’s walls, and then emerging on the far side to run down into the river. A great, winding river, emerging somewhere from the south-west and continuing its jagged course to the east.

Far to the east, the green-brown of cultivated lands turned to blue, to an expanse of water, almost water without end. That prospect made Kullerin feel uneasy; he preferred by far to have solid land beneath his feet, and mountains for preference. He did his best to ignore it, and focused on the closer ground below. He was not expected to know how to command a battle here, only to know which ways he would need to ride when conveying messages, but the Hunter had honoured him by letting him study the terrain and then listen to the battle conference which would soon follow.

The city of Nyandra had stout walls, high and of solid stone. None of the Riders had tried to storm those walls. Perhaps they would do better to have foot-men for it, as men fought in the true highlands further south, but that was not the Riders’ way. They fought on foot at need, but they travelled to and fro on horseback. They did not want to approach Nyandra’s walls too closely. The League-men had few bows and fewer muskets, but they had enough to make the walls dangerous.

Instead, the Riders had surrounded the city. Nyandra was not built on the river, but above it, with docks at the riverside and a narrow road leading up the slopes to the city proper. Kullerin had been present at the questioning of several captive Kiyungu, and they had said that the walls were so high because of floods. A choice which Kullerin could not fault, in normal times, but it meant that the Riders could cut off the city. No food entered Nyandra’s walls now, as the Hunter had decreed. And what the Hunter wanted to happen, happened. So it had been, from everything which Kullerin had seen. The Hunter was a man who bent nations to his will, if not the entire world.

The people of Nyandra cowered behind their walls. They had water, from the creek and from rain, but they did not have food. Whatever stores they had could not last forever. Whenever that failed, they would have to submit to the Hunter’s rule. They had ample flat land around their city, which in normal times would have fed them well with the wealth-trees, yams and kumera [sweet potato] that flourished in these lowlands. Now, though, some of those had been taken to feed the Riders, and the rest had been ravaged. The flatlands were clear for battle, but of the kind which the Hunter wanted.

The League had sent soldiers to lift the siege. Kullerin was no good judge of numbers, but there looked to be several thousand of them encamped to the north-east of the city. These League-men had come from the northern cities to relieve their compatriots. Scouts reported another force coming from the southern cities, but that was at least two days march away, across the great river. Kullerin was no battle commander, but he expected that the northern League-men would be dealt with before then.

Intent in his study, Kullerin did not realise who had come up beside him until a calm voice asked, “What do you see?”

Kullerin automatically started to drop to one knee, in the manner which befit a true leader back in his homeland. The Hunter waved him to rise. As always, the greatest Warego [hero] demanded the least signs of status.

“What do you see, my friend?”

Kullerin knew little of warfare yet, but then the Hunter knew that too. He had an uncanny ability to remember the names, faces and backgrounds of every man under his command. “Lots of men. Men who can carry many spears into battle against us.”

The Hunter smiled. “Yes. So my Warego have told me, those who have come to these lands before. These Kiyungu like to fight behind shields, and use spears against any who would close with them. An interesting challenge, when compared to riders, yes?”

“Dangerous?” Kullerin asked.

“Dangerous if fought on their terms.” The warleader’s grin widened. “Unfortunate for them that we will fight them on ours.”

The Hunter clapped Kullerin companionably on the shoulder, then moved on. Kullerin watched, as he liked doing. However little he knew of battles, he would never find a better man to teach him more.

The Hunter said, “Warego, attend!” The commanders turned from their study of the terrain, and gathered close to the great leader.

The Hunter said, “Tomorrow, we will bring battle to these Kiyungu.” The commanders cheered, and he waited for them to subside. “The ground is as we want it. No rain for four days, and no clouds appearing hence. We will meet the Kiyungu, and we will break them. The main field of battle will be as we expected even before we watched from the hill.” The Hunter extended his arm to point and then sweep across a flat expanse of ground, past Nyandra to the northeast, but closer than the League-men’s encampment.

“Three warbands will be down there on our ground. The largest will be under my command. Yongalla and Kyulibah, you will lead your warbands there, too. On the morrow, I will hold my men ready in the centre, watching and ready, and being seen. You will lead your warbands, with musket-men and archers, around each side of the foe, but not to their rear. Shoot at them, harry them, frighten them, but do not close with them. If they break formation to attack you, lead them away. I want them scattered and fearful. Then our riders can truly cut them down. A spearman on his own is merely a target.”

The Hunter gestured to another Warego. “Jowarra, you will bring your warband around the Kiyungu this evening, out of their sight. Use the paths there, through the trees on this hill. Tomorrow morning, you will take up a position to their rear, out of arrow and musket range from our flankers, but within the Kiyungu’s sight. I want you there to worry them. Strike at them if the opportunity arises, but only if they have started to scatter.

“If you are forced to flee, then keep going north for a day’s ride, and then return here as seems best to you. Our messengers” – he nodded to Kullerin and the four men standing around him – “can find you again to tell you of any new plans, if needed.”

The Hunter said, “I think they will be more worried about the riders with me. My warband is the largest. If I lead the charge in, to cut them down, then everyone can follow as seems best to them. If we cannot strike all of them, kill those which you can, and drive away the rest. Let those who we do not kill spread tales of fear about our prowess.”

The commanders continued talking to the Hunter and each other, discussing details of the plan. The strange thing, to Kullerin’s eyes, was that no-one showed the least signs of fear. The scouts reported that the army to the north outnumbered the Riders, and that matched what he had seen with his own eyes. But no-one doubted that tomorrow would bring victory.

How can we fail, when we are led by the Hunter?

* * *

17 November 1709
Near Nyandra, Kiyungu League

Sunshine above, broken by occasional clouds to keep off the worst of the heat. Flat ground around, perfect terrain to manoeuvre the shield-wall. No mud or trenches.

A perfect battlefield, or near enough. Munya son of Nyambih had seen many of those during his life. In his earliest youth he had fought in the bloody battles when Māori raiders had reddened the waters of Quanda Bay [Moreton Bay] [1]. Since then, he had fought against League rivals on many battlefields, from Tukka Nyukka [Maryborough] to Butjira [Nerang]. He had survived all of those battles, in large part because he had learned to trust the men on either side of him. Such was the grind of battle: hold your shield firmly, your spear willingly, and your comrade-faith absolutely.

This battle promised a grand chance to demonstrate the same lesson. The Yalatji had come over the mountains many times that he had heard of, though only once had he stood against them himself. They loved their strange horses, and were bold in raiding, but when confronted by the strength of the shield-wall, they inevitably fled. So long as the shield-wall held firm, their horse-men could not break it, and they could be driven from the field.

The Yalatji had formed up on their side of the battlefield, plainly visible if too far away to make out details. They did not care what the Kiyungu saw or did, but arranged their horsemen as they saw fit. In time, they advanced in three bands, one straight up the centre, the others spread out to left and right.

“Hold for charge!” the call went up and down the line. Few here had fought the Yalatji, but many had seen their demonstrations during their great ride through the League’s lands. They knew what the Yalatji could do on their horses.

The central band halted their horses nearby, but did not charge. The other bands advanced, but obliquely past the shield-wall, not into it.

“Why don’t they close?” asked the soldier on Munya’s right. He did not dare answer aloud, for he had a sudden premonition of what these Yalatji planned. Naming it might only produce it.

Small puffs of smoke rose along the flanking Yalatji’s ranks, then came a rumble as of distant thunder, then came the sound of men screaming, close along the shield-wall.

Muskets. Or some kind of firearm. Munya did not know all of the kinds, but he knew that many varieties existed. He had little trust for muskets. They were wonderful when they worked, but they often failed, and a man alone with a musket was even worse off than a man with a spear. He trusted himself, his spear and his comrades more than muskets. The Māori had carried many when they raided Quanda Bay, so many years ago, but they had been beaten off.

This time... this time, Munya felt fear. The Yalatji rode as they willed along the shield-wall’s flanks, passing back and forth, ever closer. Most fired muskets, and many of those bullets missed. A few, though, struck men who went down screaming or without even the chance to scream. The bullets kept coming, in volley after volley. Some of the Yalatji fired arrows too, at which they seemed skilled from horseback.

Munya could only hold his shield in front of him, to block what he could. He knew that it had some chance of stopping an arrow, but he had no illusions that it could stop a bullet. Men fell around him, slowly, steadily. The shield-wall gradually contracted, as the soldiers could do naught but remain together and hope that the barrage would end.

The Yalatji riders passed closer still, in another wave, firing again with their accursed muskets. Tragically, but inevitably, men started fleeing. Munya could not see them directly, being too busy watching the riders, but he heard the shouts of panic, and of a couple of shields being thrown on the ground.

“Hold!” he called. Other voices took up the cry, but it was of no use. The shield-wall was broken, and men were running. Some held firm, including those to his immediate left and right, but they could not stop the ebbing of the tide.

Munya looked up to another rumbling, to see the central band of Yalatji was finally moving. Lined up, charging, holding a forest of long spears above them. And now, with that vision, Munya saw death approaching.

* * *

20 November 1709
Near Nyandra, Kiyungu League

How long had he been lying in this tent? Munya could not say; there had been a time of pain, blurring into a time without easy judging of day or night passing. At least two days, he thought, perhaps several more. He had been fed and watered in that time, by Yalatji who moved around the tent without speaking to the wounded. Only Kiyungu wounded, from what he could see and hear. If the Yalatji had taken casualties, they kept them apart.

The break in the blur came when a new man stepped into the tent. His ornate armour marked him as someone of high status, not the plainly dressed, unarmoured men who attended to the wounded. The man had impressive height, and he came directly to Munya’s bed-roll.

“You speak Nuttana, I am told,” the man said, in that language.

Munya shook his head slowly. “Some. I have dealt with traders over the years.”

“As have I.” The man’s grin showed gleaming teeth. “With perhaps a better bargaining position to yours.”

“Your people have good fortune to find gems,” Munya said.

“Fortune? No such thing exists. There are actions, and there are consequences. So it has always been.”

“A commander who argues like a priest,” Munya said.

“You had not expected the like amongst us wild, hairy Horse-men?” the commander said.

“In truth, I did not know what to expect,” Munya said. Including what to expect with this conversation. This was not how he would have thought to be spoken to by an enemy officer.

“A good place to begin. Where knowledge is lacking, expectation should not be forthcoming.”

That phrase took Munya a long moment to comprehend; he was not as fluent in the Nuttana tongue as this strange enemy commander. And while his mind was clearer than he had realised, he was not inclined for a long conversation about philosophy or religion or whatever this Yalatji called his beliefs. “Better to begin with why you are here,” he said.

“A proper answer to that would take longer than a wounded man would likely want to hear,” the Yalatji said. “But, in brief, I wanted to pay my respects to valiant opponents. And, perhaps, to understand why they fought.”

“You respect us?” That prospect sounded unfathomably unlikely. Munya doubted he would ever forget the sight of the Yalatji cavalry charging down. He had stood his ground, along with his neighbours, and thought that he might even have wounded one of the riders, but the battle had ended with the League forces scattering in wild retreat. He remembered that much before unconsciousness from his wounds had claimed him. “You won the battle, or I would not be here. Why do you respect us?”

“I respect those who fought with valour, if not those who led them. You, I am told, have been a soldier for many years, and you even struck down one of my comrades before you were brought down.”

“Much good courage did me. We failed. Has Nyandra surrendered?”

“Not yet. Though the citizens must fear for their future now, with no relief coming.”

“One battle does not mean victory,” Munya said.

“That rather depends on the battle,” the Yalatji said. “Your compatriots are dead, prisoner or scattered. The other relief force across the river waits, and shows no interest in crossing. If they come over, do you think their prospects any better than those who fought in this battle?”

“Have you come here merely to gloat in victory?” Munya asked.

“Not at all. You asked what passed, so I answered. I came for the reasons I named. I did not come to mistreat those who opposed me. If I had wanted that, I could have left you for dead. You, in particular, I wanted to live. I saw how you fought. I had our best physician – from the Five Rivers, originally – attend to you. He applied some preparation of his to your wounds. To purify it, he said. He thinks that while you will suffer still for a time, you will live.”

“Live how? Where?”

“Those are indeed good questions,” the Yalatji said. “There will be changes here, once the conquest is complete. Which brings me to some questions of my own. Why do you fight? What for?”

“I fight for my king and my city,” Munya said.

“And if you had a poor king?” the Yalatji said.

Munya remained silent. Kings could be fools, as could any men, but they were still kings. He had no desire to argue that with this enemy commander, whoever he was.

“I do not ask you to answer yet, but I ask you to consider. Is it a king that you fight for, or a cause?”

“And who are you, to pose such questions?”

The man’s grin returned. “I am Tjuwagga. Or the Hunter, in the Nuttana tongue.”

“You are the warleader who has come to ravage the lands of the League?”

“Not at all. Your people are misguided, it is true, but I do not come to inflict suffering. Or not more than is necessary. I want your people to know the proper rule, one which can bring your lands to the right harmony.”

“And why do you tell me this?”

“For your consideration, since you ask it.” The Hunter bowed. “And as a mark of respect. Sincere respect. You have valour, something which I have always admired.”

“You want me to serve with your forces, then,” Munya said.

“If you choose to do so willingly,” the Hunter said. “I have brought many men of valour to my banner, many who were once my opponents. But I only want men who are willing to serve.” He bowed again. “Think on this, Munya son of Nyambih. You need not answer yet.”

The Hunter gave him a parting smile, then turned and strode from the tent.

* * *

“What are your nation’s objectives in this war?”
“To secure France’s natural borders.”
“It is a curious thing that a nation’s natural borders are always larger than its current borders.”
- Exchange between Bamindee Dalwal, Tjibarri envoy to France, and Philippe de Bourbon, duc d’Mercœur [2], 1743, when discussing French aims after the outbreak of the Nine Year’s War (also known in Europe as the Fourth Bohemian War or the War of the Austrian Succession)

* * *

[1] This was a Compagnie d’Orient attempt to conquer the Kiyungu League in 1692. They used a force of mercenaries in an attempt to subdue the Kiyungu and force them to trade spices purely to the CDO. The mercenaries were mostly Māori, with a smattering of troops and officers from other CDO stations. The conquest attempt failed, due in part to Nuttana ships cutting off their supplies.

[2] Not the historical Philippe de Bourbon, Duke of Mercœur and later Duke of Vendôme (1655-1727), but an allohistorical nephew who rose to be one of France’s leading marshals and diplomats, and who was the de facto chief minister of France during the late 1730s and early 1740s, before choosing to return to the battlefield during the Nine Years’ War.

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Thoughts?

 

[Cochlea]

Great update. I suspect Munya is not the only Kiyungu the Hunter has tried to turn over to his cause after this battle? Makes sense to go for the most seasoned warriors now, perhaps get the fresher ones to follow after that?

 

[Seleucus]

I remember you mentioned earlier in LoRaG that the perennial crops meant that most cities maintained several years of stored food, enough in case the crops were lost. Why then did the Kiyungu fight a pitched battle rather than try to wait the Hunter out?

 

[Archangel]

Keep it up, Jared!

 

[Jared]

Great update. I suspect Munya is not the only Kiyungu the Hunter has tried to turn over to his cause after this battle? Makes sense to go for the most seasoned warriors now, perhaps get the fresher ones to follow after that?

Munya is indeed one of many that the Hunter has tried to recruit, either immediately or to lay the ground for them converting later. His general aim is to persuade veterans, for the simple fact that if they come over, they can bring many more with them, given time.

I remember you mentioned earlier in LoRaG that the perennial crops meant that most cities maintained several years of stored food, enough in case the crops were lost. Why then did the Kiyungu fight a pitched battle rather than try to wait the Hunter out?

With perennial crops, what it means is that a decent harvest can be achieved with a smaller percentage of the population, leaving more people free to become non-farming specialists. It doesn't automatically mean better food storage, although that is often a valuable side-benefit.

The better food storage mostly comes from wattles, whose seeds store extremely well if they can be kept vermin-free. Together with the seeds of some other crops, they can provide some excellent food stores.

Red yams do not store for more than a year - in fact, slightly less - even with the best storage. The advantage of red yams is somewhat different. It's simply because they are root crops that can be left in the ground and collected at any time before the next mid-summer, and that they can also regrow their foliage if they are devastated during the year (as has happened here).

It is true that in ideal conditions, with appropriate organisation, Aururian cities can hold enough food for several years. The Yadji are the best-organised Aururian society in that regard. However, not all of the cities are that organised, and the conditions nowadays are far from ideal, with social disruption, plagues, more warfare, and so forth.

In the case of the Kiyungu, there were several factors at play. They still export a portion of their food to the Nuttana, so their food stores are not as large as others. They rely on fishing more than some other Aururian societies, and have been cut off from fishing, too. Like every Aururian society, they have also suffered from multiple decades of population collapse, warfare, plague, and other disruption, so their food stores are not as well-maintained as they would be. There's been many calls on those stores already over the years.

The biggest reason, though, is that the other Kiyungu cities were confident that they could drive off the Yalatji. That had been the previous pattern, after all; they had driven off various raiders over the years. They outnumbered the Yalatji, and they knew it. They preferred to fight now rather than leave the Yalatji cavalry free to ravage much greater parts of their lands, since they thought they would win.

It was a miscalculation, of course, but an understandable one in the circumstances.

 

[Cochlea]

I was thinking about the Tjarrlinghi horse, how well-trained are they on average? Are the Yalatji generally good horse breeders and trainers? How well would their war mounts compare to Eurasian ones? Is it possible for them to import warhorses from abroad?

(Now that I think of it, other Aururian nations could also theoretically import their own warhorses, why they'd want to is a different question.)

 

[Jared]

I was thinking about the Tjarrlinghi horse, how well-trained are they on average? Are the Yalatji generally good horse breeders and trainers? How well would their war mounts compare to Eurasian ones? Is it possible for them to import warhorses from abroad?

The Yalatji are generally very good horse breeders and horse trainers. Their whole lifestyle has evolved to be (mostly) around horses, raiding, and cattle-raising [1]. So their horse use tends to be very, very good. If you think of them as something like a cross between Mongols and cowboys, you won't be far wrong.

As to how that would compare to Europeans, I'm not so sure. Their war mounts would certainly be decent by European standards, if not above average to excellent. They have perforce learned to do well because of constant raids.

In terms of importing warhorses, it's not impossible, but it is unlikely. The Yalatji and Butjupa are by now at a point where they could export warhorses if they wanted; their horse herds have grown far enough to do that.

[1] Not absolutely. They still keep ducks and collect a few low-maintenance crops, wattles being the principal ones. But tha main part of their life is horse-raising.

(Now that I think of it, other Aururian nations could also theoretically import their own warhorses, why they'd want to is a different question.)

Tjibarr and Durigal have both imported some warhorses between them, although they do mostly train their own these days. Small numbers of warhorses by Yalatji/Butjupa standards, but they do have some.

 

[Dathi THorfinnsson]

I just noticed the name of one of your TTL publishing houses. Smith and Weston.

Their authors must be real pistols, eh?
Are they gunning for the competition?
etc.

 

[Kaiphranos]

I like the quote from Bamindee Dalwal at the end there...