Chapter 1474: Chapter 35: Siege (Part 5)
[Magit Island]
[Domoncos Monastery]
“Where have they reached?” Major Montecuccoli stood on the steps of the Bell Tower, anxiously asking the observer at the top of the tower.
“They’ve extinguished the lights,” the young Junior Officer serving as lookout answered timidly, “I can’t see clearly.”
Upon hearing this, Montecuccoli irritably punched the stone wall beside him.
Had it not been that the artillery Major couldn’t see any better, he really wanted to pull the Junior Officer down and stand at the top himself to look.
Years of desk-bound mapping and reading had severely damaged Montecuccoli’s eyesight, making him able to only see colors from just a bit farther away.
This was also why many upon first meeting believed the artillery director to be difficult to deal with – Raymond Montecuccoli was near-sighted and disliked wearing glasses, always squinting at people, coupled with his distant demeanor, making it strange if he left a good impression.
Suddenly, a gunshot rang out below the Bell Tower, followed by a cacophony of noise.
Montecuccoli was startled, immediately pulling the still-stunned Junior Officer back into the staircase area from the exposed tower top.
He originally intended to extinguish the signal light but hesitated after lifting the lamp cover, ultimately leaving the conspicuous signal light at the tower top, simply hiding with the Junior Officer under the floorboards.
Though hidden away, the enemy’s bullets did not come, nor did the sounds of combat ring out.
After waiting for a moment, Montecuccoli quietly peered out, without seeing any trace of the enemy – needless to say, even if there were, he probably couldn’t see clearly.
“What’s going on?!” Montecuccoli climbed to the tower top, angrily shouting downwards.
A moment later, the voice of a Junior Officer came from below, “Private John said he saw a figure, it must’ve been a mirage.”
“Which John?” Montecuccoli furiously shouted. But before the Junior Officer could answer, Major himself sighed, “Forget it! Tell him to see clearly before he shoots next time! All musketeers listen well, shoot only when close! Aim properly! Don’t be deceived by the rebels again!”
By the time he spoke the last sentence, Montecuccoli’s fists were nearly clenched to the point of bleeding.
Previously, it was because they were deceived out of the most crucial first volley that they failed to hold Bishop’s Castle.
The rebels who had landed quietly crawled to within a hundred steps of the castle, suddenly lighting many torches in one go.
The tense sentries instinctively pulled the shooting levers, and other musketeers also followed suit and fired towards the direction of the firelight, even leading the artillerymen to poke fired-up iron rods into the gunpowder chambers.
After a spectacular volley, Bishop’s Castle was left with only the cannon personally managed by Montecuccoli still capable of firing.
And the “felled” enemies were merely decoys made of resin and wooden sticks.
After the defending forces wasted their most lethal volley, the “rebels” strike team finally rose from more than two hundred steps away to launch an assault towards Bishop’s Castle.
And the trenches imcomplete for quite a distance, added just a little nuisance for the rebels.
Therefore, there was no need to wait for the first rebel to crawl into the fort from the cannon barrel, at the moment witnessing his subordinates fire at nothingness, Montecuccoli was already certain – Bishop’s Castle could not be held.
Hence, he activated the backup plan on site, ordering a breakout.
Speaking of breakout, it was essentially scaling the walls to flee – Knight’s Castle’s trenches couldn’t stop those who wanted to come in, nor could it stop those wanting to leave.
Fortunately, the scale of the island landing “rebels” wasn’t large, and lacked cavalry, with their attention primarily focused on Bishop’s Castle, even having intentionally or otherwise left a path for the defenders, hence, Montecuccoli’s “breakout” was relatively smooth.
After escaping Bishop’s Castle, Montecuccoli gathered soldiers who had lost their direct superior along the way, reaching a safe retreat at the Domoncos Monastery located south of Bishop’s Castle, in the center of Magit Island.
Domoncos Monastery is a nun monastery, having been on Magit Island since the year the Paratu People officially converted to Catholicism, with a history of several hundred years.
After Cornelius decided to construct cannon fortifications on Magit Island, Domoncos Monastery was requisitioned by the Southern Army, and the nuns were “invited” into the city, almost entirely occupied by United Provincials who were mostly Protestants.
Because the commander himself specifically stated the discipline, the United Provinces Soldiers did not intentionally damage the monastery.
However, the Southern Army Command valued Domoncos Monastery, precisely because the monastery was a sturdy stone building, with high ground and good visibility, with slight modifications, it could become a qualified fortified point, capable of corresponding with Bishop’s Castle.
Hence, the United Provincials remodeled Domoncos Monastery according to barracks standards, raising the walls, widening the external water channels, carving gun slits in the monastery walls.
Due to Bishop’s Castle not yet being completed, the munitions and supplies allocated to Bishop’s Castle were also temporarily stored in Domoncos Monastery. In fact, the troop force dispatched to Domoncos Monastery was even greater than those stationed in Bishop’s Castle at present.
In fact, the fall of Bishop’s Castle was originally part of the Southern Army Command’s operational plan; Domoncos Monastery was the key point that could not be lost.
If the “rebels” were to launch a large-scale landing, then according to the plan, Montecuccoli would give the unfinished Bishop’s Castle to the “rebels”, retreating to Domoncos Monastery to hold on for reinforcements.
By then, Bishop’s Castle would become a hot potato, placing the rebels in a difficult choice.
If the rebels decisively abandon Bishop’s Castle, then no real loss, it would merely endure some damage, and Montecuccoli would reclaim Bishop’s Castle, continuing construction right under the rebels’ noses.
If the rebels were unwilling to give up Bishop’s Castle, then only an empty shell of Bishop’s Castle would serve as a mill to grind the rebels’ flesh.
Therefore, Montecuccoli Major was not surprised by the loss of Bishop’s Castle.
What truly caught Montecuccoli off guard was that the “rebels'” offensive was launched so early.
All signs indicated that the scale of the “rebels” outside Kingsfort was currently roughly between a large battalion to two battalions, accompanied by two to three companies of light cavalry, without artillery support.
With so few people, it’s not enough to lay siege, let alone block the city gates.
Yet the rebels dared to attack, dared to land on the island, dared to charge towards the Bishop’s Castle.
Montekucoli did not feel fear or awe at this, but rather a sense of sadness and regret.
Reading about the celebrated courage of the Paratu Cavalry in books was one thing, but experiencing firsthand the bravery of the “border people” was another.
The courage of the Paratu People, the shells of the United Provincials… these resources, which should have been used against the Empire, were instead used against each other. Whenever he thought of this, Montekucoli felt immense regret.
At the same time, thinking about the trickery the “rebels” played under the Bishop’s Castle, a sense of shame and anger welled up in Montekucoli’s heart.
He had read many records in military history about baiting musketeers into volleys. In the early days of the uprising, the Royalist Cavalry was especially adept at repeatedly feigning charges, provoking militia musketeers to volley at ineffective ranges. Then, with a real charge, they easily shattered the militia formations.
After Ned Smith took over the militia of the Mountain Front Territory, this type of thing never happened again.
Montekucoli never expected that such a thing would happen again under his own command.
And it wasn’t even cavalry that deceived them, but a small group of infantry playing tricks.
Throughout the battle, he wasn’t injured, yet his face burned painfully.
Even if he didn’t want to admit it, he had no choice but to recognize—the United Province Army had rested on its laurels for too long, habitually taking the glorious achievements of their predecessors as their own skills.
But Raymond Montekucoli was not ready to concede.
“The reinforcements from Kingsfort don’t know that we’ve nailed down all our cannons, so they’ve extinguished their torches,” Montekucoli picked up a signal lamp and solemnly handed it to the watchful warrant officer. “Tonight there are no stars or moon, this isn’t a Bell Tower but a lighthouse. This lamp is the only thing to guide reinforcements in the right direction—no matter what happens, don’t let this light go out.”
The warrant officer, confused but cautious, took the signal lamp, cradling it in his arms.
“Why are you hugging the lamp?” Montekucoli said, half angry, half amused, “Point it outside.”
The warrant officer suddenly understood, readjusting the signal lamp to face the direction of Kingsfort.
“Signal,” Montekucoli reigned in his temper as best as he could, patiently instructing the warrant officer, “Flashing is more eye-catching than a steady light.”
Following the beat directed by the Major, the warrant officer rhythmically swung the handle of the signal lamp up and down.
Montekucoli nodded, then walked down from the tower, “Inform me immediately if there’s any development.”
“Where are you going, sir?” The warrant officer instinctively asked, and as soon as the words left his mouth, he realized he shouldn’t have asked and shrank back.
However, the artillery major was unusually patient tonight, unlike someone who had just suffered a defeat.
“We narrowly escaped death, everyone is still shaken,” Montekucoli calmly replied, “I need to go around and make everyone understand, the battle is not yet lost.”
The warrant officer hesitated for a moment, then raised his hand in salute, “Yes, sir!”
“Signal.”
The warrant officer hurriedly lowered his hand and continued swinging the signal lamp’s handle.
“Warrant Officer… Camp Warrant Officer,” Montekucoli paused for a moment and asked out of nowhere, “Do you think we will win?”
“We definitely will!” Edwin Camp answered reflexively.
Montekucoli laughed indifferently, patting the warrant officer’s shoulder, “Keep up that confidence.”
Then, without looking back, he descended the lighthouse.
—————–
Meanwhile, across the riverbank from Magit Island, Woods Frank stood in knee-deep river water, directing the subsequent troops to “board the vessels.”
What they called vessels, were actually just a few rafts.
However, soldiers from Mont Blanc County had strung a rope between Magit Island and the West Bank, so the efficiency of the rafts’ transport might not be much worse than the rowing boats heading upstream towards Kingsfort.
Wounded soldiers coming off the island carried a message for Woods, “Lieutenant Alanni reports to you that the lieutenant successfully rescued many conscripted laborers, but the cannons in the fortress have all been spiked by the United Provincials.”
“I understand,” Woods nodded, calling for others to carry the wounded back ashore.
Although the result of being unable to seize usable cannons wasn’t unexpected, when hope truly extinguished, Woods’ heart still sank somewhat.
For the New Army, the situation that needed to be avoided the most was turning the battle on Magit Island into a tug-of-war.
Looking towards Magit Island, shrouded in darkness and silence, Woods silently prayed:
“If you can hear me, Senior Mason, come quickly.”
—————–
Southwest of Kingsfort, about forty kilometers away, on the provincial highway within the domain of Trifork City.
Richard Mason, who was sleeping soundly in the carriage, suddenly sneezed.