BES: Chapter 15

As I stared across at the Army that had materialized from Gwangmu Island, I couldn't help but frown. When we landed at the village of Maeeum-Ri, we hadn't faced any resistance, even from the Dondae Fort that guarded the small harbor of the village. We had found that the fort was abandoned, and the village threw open the gates of its pallisade for us. I'd thought it odd for a nation that had resisted as much as possible in the past. However, the reason why had become evidently clear. It wasn't a lack of will to resist so much as a strategic withdrawal back to the town of Seokpo-Ri on the other end of the Island, where the main army of Goryeo had landed, ferried over on trade ships and fishing boats in the night, using the cover of darkness and impressed civilian vessels to concentrate their forces.

Fair dues to them, it had worked out for them, and now I stood with my army of fourteen thousand men outside of the village of Maeeum-Ri, facing an army of thirty thousand Goryeo Troops. True, not all of them were the Professional, Royal Forces that had been holed up in the Gangwhasong Fortress, huddled around their elderly King and power-hungry Regent, but that didn't matter when the remaining clans of the Archipelago and the Militia of Samsan Island had added to their numbers.

"Huh, it looks like the Gwangmu Wi Clan and Gyodong In Clan have joined up with the Royal Army and Samsan Militia. That ought to make General Chang Wen happy, at least. He won't have to fight through more than a few militia units to take Gyodong Island." Mused Yi Hwŏn.

"I'd still rather not have the odds so stacked against us." Frowned Xiao Namur.

"Please, the Prince has granted us victory every time so far. Have a little faith." Smirked Suike.

"Still, they must have only left a couple of Minghan worth of Troops back at the Fortress. If we beat them here, we won't need General Chang Wen's help to seize the real prize of this campaign." Rumbled Eje.

"We should still allow the General to arrive. It builds Guanxi." Pointed out Jing Dan.

"All that is premature. We have yet to win this battle, after all." I intoned.

"Right. Focus on the fight here first." Agreed Xiao Namur.

"The key to defeating them is there, in the center. The Pyŏlmuban troops. They're the best-trained and most disciplined forces that Goryeo has outside the Royal Guards. Beat them and the rest will follow." Insisted Yi Hwŏn.

He wasn't wrong. The Pyŏlmuban were the most effective fighting force that Goryeo had. I would even put them above the Royal Guards, which were still holed up in the Gangwhasong Fortress. This was largely because of their makeup. Infantry, Cavalry, Artillery, and Archers, plus support units like engineers and spies, all within the same command structure, all of which could fight as infantry if need be. One Tumen of those sat across the field from us, and they weren't alone, either. Another Tumen of Central Army Troops that could be pulled away from the fortresses in the South, four minghan each of Clan Troops from the Gwangmu Wi Clan and Gyodong In Clan, and two Minghan of Militia from around Samsan Island stood next to them.

"Still, I wonder why Liau Tsi-Sing wasn't able to stop them from concentrating. He should be more alert." Grumbled Suike.

"Worrywart, this just means more enemies to kill." Scoffed Eja.

"If the Prince's Strategy works in our favor." Cautioned Jing Dan.

"Speaking of which, you should all leave to your troops. You know the plan. Now we must carry it out to a successful conclusion, or we will all die here." I commanded.

A flurry of salutes and affirmative noises answered me, and my various sub-commanders moved off to their respective units. I watched with some interest as three riders approached under a flag of Parlay. Two of which were clearly Pyŏlmuban Cavalry, while the third was the most interesting one. Decked out in Lamellar Armor dyed and enameled in Goryeo Celadon, Prince Wang Ch'ang, or rather, Crown Prince Wang Ch'ang, rode at the head of the trio of parlaying riders. Intrigued, I motioned to two nearby Mongol Cavalrymen to follow me as I spurred my mount into a canter, heading for the center of the field, where Prince Wang Ch'ang had stopped. As I reached it, reining my mount in, Prince Wang Ch'ang removed his helm. I did the same, much to the Prince of Goryeo's shock.

"I don't believe it, you're just a boy!" Exclaimed Prince Wang Ch'ang.

"This Boy has been able enough to win victory after victory so far. I wouldn't underestimate me, were I you." I intoned.

"Still, you can't be older than thirteen! To think you have been giving us such trouble." Mused Prince Wang Ch'ang.

"If you have nothing constructive to say, perhaps you can spare us the wasted time?" I questioned, gritting my teeth at the implied insult.

"Right. I should have guessed you would be impatient. The Young seldom have patience. Look, you can count, yes? You see that you are outnumbered badly, correct? The terrain is likewise against you. You will not win victory here. Why not withdraw, convince the Khan that this conquest is more trouble than it is worth? We will reaffirm our vassal status just as soon as I can be sworn in as King. My father is not long for this world, after all. Surely that is a better option than a massacre?" Queried Prince Wang Ch'ang.

"It is too late for that, I'm afraid. The Great Khan, my Uncle Mongke Khan, has already decided. He does not go back on such decisions lightly. Besides, I sincerely doubt that Regent Ch'oe Hang would agree with your proposal. If memory serves, unlike your father, he only had the one son. Emphasis on had." I refused.

"With your help, we could remove the Regent." Suggested Prince Wang Ch'ang.

"Perhaps that might have been an option before landing. Not any longer, however." I refuted.

"Then you are set on this course? Even though it means certain doom for you and all your men?" Asked Prince Wang Ch'ang.

"Unless I win." I smirked.

"Arrogance and impatience. It will be your downfall. I gave you a chance. Now you will deal with the consequences." Scoffed Prince Wang Ch'ang.

Then, he turned his horse about and spurred it into a gallop back to his lines. I did the same with my own horse. The battle would commence shortly afterward with an artillery duel. Prince Wang Ch'ang was right about the terrain. The mountainous area to the east of Maeeum-Ri had allowed him to place his cannons on the heights, which compensated for the inferior design's lack of range. We still had the better gun crews, however. Of course, this also meant there was less open ground for our cavalry to maneuver on. Whoever had been advising Prince Wang Ch'ang was good. I had bet everything on the notion that I was better, though.

And hopefully, that bet would come through for me in the end. . .

XXXX

Wi Tae, current head of the Gwangmu Wi Clan, watched as the battle commenced. The Mongols seemed awfully confident for the position they were in. He had to believe that there was some trick that they were planning that gave them that confidence. For that reason, when the order came down for a general attack with half their forces, Wi Tae held the majority of his forces in reserve. He knew that across the field from him, In Ch'ŏl, head of the Gyodong In Clan, would be doing likewise, as would the Samsan Militia, though that would likely as not be more from incompetence or hesitance than practical strategy.

Still, Wi Tae couldn't deny that the advance of so many troops, like a wave sweeping down from the rugged hills east of Maeeum-Ri to wash the Mongol Army back into the sea, was quite inspiring. Were he a more poetic and less practical sort, he might have even been tempted to take his mental analogy far enough to compose a poem with it. Fortunately for his men, he was not a poetic sort. His practicality had saved their lives on more than one occasion and was about to do so again, though he did not realize that at the moment. Granted, he had still sent one thousand Clan Warriors to join the attack. It would soon become apparent that he had signed their death warrants by doing so.

As the wave of Goryeo Troops swept across the field between the mountainous area to the East of Maeeum-Ri and the Mongol lines close to the Village itself, the front rank of Mongol Infantry parted and revealed several of those damned arrow carts, loaded and ready to fire. The center of the great wave of men and horses sweeping down toward the Mongols, led by the fearsome Pyŏlmuban Troops, was charging straight into the teeth of the incoming storm of rocket-powered arrows! Soon, there was a horrific whistling shrieking noise and a massive plume of smoke, as the Mongol Arrow Carts began to disgorge their deadly payloads.

Ten thousand arrows, propelled by the rocket force of black powder, ripped out into the face of the Pyŏlmuban Troops. Even as inaccurate as such designs were, when the targets were packed so closely together, the Arrow Carts couldn't fail to hit something. Those who survived the barrage did so thanks to their heavy armor or by being back far enough into the rear ranks of the charge. Many who did survive did so without their horses, if they had them, for the Cavalry of Goryeo did not armor their horses, even if their riders were armored heavily enough to survive the initial storm of rocket-powered arrows. A good deal of those for whom this was the case found themselves suffering broken arms, broken legs, or worse, broken necks, after being violently thrown off their horses.

The great wave faltered against the storm of arrows, the rear ranks stalled by the mountain of corpses in front of them. Then the Mongol's second trick was played. These were not the only arrow carts, it seemed, as others had been hauled out to the rear of the Mongol Formation, pointed upward to fire in plunging volleys down on the rear ranks of the attack. Yet more of the Pyŏlmuban were scythed down by this. Then, once they were hemmed in by fallen comrades in front and behind, the Mongols charged, led by their Boy-Prince, to mop up the remainder.

It was a massacre. The Pyŏlmuban could scarcely put up much resistance after the double wave of projectiles. The center of the wave could not hold, and the flanks collapsed. The wave receded as it became clear that the Mongols were far better at using black powder weaponry and tactics than the Army of Goryeo was. To make matters worse, the panicked Samsan Island Militia routed from the field in terror and fled back through a reforming contingent of Pyŏlmuban Troops that made it out of the storm. This broke up their unit cohesion, and that was something the Mongols could not fail to take advantage of. A contingent of Jurchen Cavalry charged the disarrayed Pyŏlmuban Unit, firing arrows into the ranks to further decrease unit cohesion before charging in with lance and blade to shatter the unit.

That was the last straw for Wi Tae. He signalled his men to retreat. Perhaps he could yet salvage something from this by withdrawing to the East to the Jeondeuk Pass between the mountains in the middle of the island that linked Maeeum-Ri and Seokpo-Ri. As he withdrew, he noted that the Prince's Great Wave had left some six thousand dead and wounded Goryeo Soldiers behind as it receded, with a further two thousand fled. A third of the army gone, with his clan troops withdrawing as well.

He would be followed shortly by In Ch'ŏl and his remaining troops, as they prepared to make a better-protected stand in the Jeondeuk Pass, leaving Prince Wang Ch'ang to his fate. . .

XXXX

I frowned as I withdrew back to the infantry line with my Mongol Cavalry. My hole card had been played, and though it had done enough damage to the Goryeo Army to shatter it, somehow or other, they still maintained enough unit cohesion in the face of their Crown Prince to reform. They were down to the remaining Pyŏlmuban and Central Army Troops, true, but it seemed like the Wi and In Clan Forces had managed a withdrawal in good order, and those remaining Pyŏlmuban and Central Army Troops still had equivalent numbers to our own forces. Furthermore, they still had their artillery, and I very much doubted that they would try something as foolhardy and suicidal as a massive frontal human wave attack again. In fact, even though they were still in the field, I very much doubted even their Crown Prince would be able to motivate them to attack off their hills again.

This just turned into a situation where we would need to attack uphill against a force that was equivalent in size to our own, which still had artillery support. Thankfully, I also figured that their morale had to be shaky still. Crown Prince or no Crown Prince, you don't see so many of your own side die or flee the battlefield and not take a massive morale hit. They probably didn't have the stomach for a protracted fight, and if we could manage to make headway against their positions in the hills, they might just break. That was a big if, though. Thankfully, they hadn't had time to put up field fortifications or anything. Otherwise, I would have said forget about it.

"Courier!" I called out.

"Here, My Prince!" Exclaimed a Messenger.

"Run to Jing Dan and the Artillery Corps, tell them to switch targets to the enemy formations on the hilltops! We need to break up their lines before we attack. Forget about the Arrow Carts for now, they've played their part and won't hit much at that distance anyhow!" I ordered.

"Of course, My Prince!" Saluted the Messenger before speeding away.

"Bannerman! Signal the other Infantry and Cavalry Units! Charge on my Command!" I commanded.

"Yes, My Prince!" Exclaimed the Bannerman.

That had been one of the things that I had instituted. A system of Bannermen and Ensigns that would function as a sort of signal corps. It was a system similar to one that was currently in use by the Song Dynasty in as-yet unconquered Southern China. We already had a system of courier riders for communication, but couriers were hit or miss, and this system gave us an extra measure of flexibility on the tactical level. As the Bannerman began to wave his banner about, signalling the other units in our force, I looked out over the Battlefield.

True, ordering our artillery to stop suppressing the enemy artillery was risky. They could begin to suppress our own artillery, or even dispense with that altogether and start firing at our troops directly. However, it was necessary. Anything to try and break up the enemy formations still standing on the hilltops enough that our attack could make headway. If we could do that, we could break the remaining enemy forces, and if that happened, we would win the battle, and possibly the entire war. As cannonballs began to lance out from our artillery toward the enemy troops in belches of smoke and flame, I counted down the seconds. I wanted to be certain the bombardment would have the desired effect. As certain as I could get, at any rate. After all, there were no guarantees in warfare. After ninety seconds and six volleys had elapsed, I turned to my Bannerman and nodded.

"Now! Signal the attack!" I demanded.

The Bannerman did so, and as soon as the message was received, I took up my bow and spurred my horse onward, leading my Mongol Cavalry into the fray. My horse galloped forth, practically devouring the ground between the village of Maeeum-Ri and the Hills. Arrows began to whizz down around me as I crossed the halfway mark, Goryeo Archers trying to break up our charge, even with our artillery still hammering away at the enemy positions atop the hill. I loosed arrows of my own as I entered range, the bowstring practically humming as I fired first one, then another arrow, both of which hit targets, one in the eye, the other in the leg. Both went down, though one would live. My arrows were joined by others from the rest of our horse archers, even as the Korean Archers did their best to shoot back.

In the exchange of arrow fire, men fell on both sides. More on their side than on ours, though it was close enough in numbers that it might even be as small as a difference of a few dozen. However, as I put my bow away and drew my Dao, I felt something slam into my left shoulder and rock me back in the saddle. I clung onto my mount with my legs, as I was trained to do, rolling with the blow, and coming up to see an arrow sticking out of my armor. It had penetrated through the lamellar plates of my pauldron and into the leather underneath, poking through enough to draw blood, though it was only a flesh wound. It still bled enough that the blood was beginning to trickle down my arm in little rivulets, but more importantly, it stung my pride.

Fortunately, I was right-handed, and snarled as my mount charged up the hill, slashing down at a Central Army Soldier that was trying to stick my mount with a spear, cleaving the head off the spear with a powerful cut before bringing the blade around as I was taught for a second, whirling cut that slashed out the hapless Soldier's throat. A Pyŏlmuban Officer in heavy armor charged me with a Woldo Polearm, which was similar enough to the Chinese Guandao or Japanese Naginata that I knew to be wary. I parried the flashing blade of the Polearm with my Dao, but the Pyŏlmuban Officer simply brought the weapon back around, parrying my counterstrike as he did so. He tried striking me with the haft of his weapon as he closed further with me, but I leaned back out of the way. Spurring my mount up, it reared back and kicked out with its front hooves, blasting the Pyŏlmuban Officer back before stomping down to trample him.

My charge continued as I slashed out at a Central Army Trooper with a Geom Sword who charged at me, cutting through his helmet and chopping into the top of his skull. I wrenched my Dao free in time to parry a spear thrust by a Pyŏlmuban Soldier as he charged forth, knocking the thrust off course and cutting the man down as I passed by. An Enemy Archer drew down on me, and I twisted aside just in time for the arrow to miss my head, though the broadhead cut a thin, cosmetic line across the bridge of my nose in the process. I spurred my mount forward as the Archer Desperately tried to nock another arrow and draw on me again, my Dao flashed out and took his head off as his second arrow thudded into the dirt at his feet, uselessly.

The artillery had by now returned to dueling with the enemy artillery in order to avoid gunning our own men down, but it had clearly done its job. The front ranks of the enemy positions were in disarray, and as I led our charge into them, the situation was only made worse. The gaps made by the artillery were widened by our charging cavalry. Then the infantry caught up and poured in behind us, wrecking the enemy unit cohesion entirely. After twenty minutes of my forces killing and being killed on the hilltops, the enemy broke, fleeing the battlefield. Some fled through their engineers and remaining reserve forces, rendering attempts to staunch the flood of fleeing troops pointless. We rode as many down as we could in the next fifteen minutes, slaying and capturing a great many of them. Unfortunately, Prince Wang Ch'ang was not among them.

We would only find out several days later that he had fled into the mountains and fallen into a ravine, breaking his neck on landing. This would be discovered after a woodcutter from Seokpo-Ri discovered the Prince's Body in the bottom of the ravine while trying to cut firewood in the mountains. In the meantime, the total number of casualties for the enemy force stood at twenty-two-thousand killed, wounded, or captured, with the remaining Eight Thousand largely being under the banners of the Wi and In Clans, along with some two thousand surviving Central Army and Pyŏlmuban Troops, withdrawing back to Seokpo-Ri and then fleeing back to Gwangmu Island on commandeered ships in the night once it became clear that their position in the Jeondeuk Pass would become untenable if I took Samsan-Ri and Seokpo-Ri, circumnavigating their position. Meanwhile, our own force suffered some two thousand killed or wounded, largely in that last desperate attack up the hill.

Between the forces that had withdrawn from Samsan Island and the Royal Guards still at the Gangwhasong Fortress, the enemy now had eleven thousand troops remaining in the entirety of the Islands, six thousand of which were Wi and In Clan Troops. Meanwhile, we had twelve thousand troops remaining in our army, outnumbering the enemy by one thousand troops. It wouldn't be enough with their fortifications. We would have to wait for General Chang Wen, regardless of any motivating factors. It was just simple mathematics.

Regardless, we would cross over three days later, beginning the siege of Gangwhasong Fortress without General Chang Wen, who would not arrive for another eight days. Once he did, we would have the forces to assault. First, however, we needed to breach the walls. And that would take time, as the walls of the Gangwhasong Fortress were thick indeed. By the time we were ready to assault and finally put an end to this, the campaign would be on its forty-second day.

And I was determined that it would not drag into a forty-third. . .

XXXX

AN: All right, so here we have the next chapter. As you can see, Dalai's strategy worked out for them, though it still went down to the wire in the end. However, the massive casualties suffered by the Goryeo Forces in their disastrous human wave charge into the teeth of a surprise Hwacha bombardment, followed by multiple desertions, and then a direct artillery bombardment, ultimately took its toll on the Goryeo Morale. Even the best troops like the Pyŏlmuban would falter after all that, even while the eyes of their crown prince were on them. Notably, however, most of the casualties the Goryeo Forces suffered came during the rout at the end, with the surprise Hwacha Bombardment actually causing fewer casualties.

Regardless, Dalai picks up a massive victory, even if the Goryeo Crown Prince wasn't captured or killed in battle and instead died due to happenstance while fleeing the battle. That's not all, either. Dalai also picked up a pair of cool scars, and when you're a Mongol Prince, that's something to boast about.

At any rate, the next chapter will involve the Battle of Gangwhasong Fortress as the assault begins. Then we'll get an interlude showing how the conquest of the Dali Kingdom is going under Dorji, just as a point of comparison.

Stay tuned. . .