Sons of Chenia

Chapter 45

Boom! Boom! Boom!

"AGAIN!"

Boom! Boom! Boom!

"AGAIN!"

Boom! Boom! Boom!

"AGAIN!"

And so it went. The fifteen light cannons that they had brought had been divided into sets of three. Each set fired blanks, one cannon after the other, and then was reloaded with gunpowder as the others fired. Colonel Haldine sauntered between the light cannons, brandishing his iron-capped mace. While the Guards who manned the cannons turned or covered their ears with each blast, the portly colonel never so much as lost a step in his swagger, at least none that Morgard could see.

For his part, Morgard watched the scene repeat itself with a fervor he had not felt in years, if ever. He had gone three days without so much as a leaf of black hazel, yet he felt no withdrawals of any sort. Rather, his senses were keen, his instincts heightened.

It was the eve of battle and the general had never felt so alive.

The crossing of the Green had been flawless. Although both Colonels Tomov and Haldine had assured him of the competency of the Czarian Guard scouts, Morgard had wanted to see the beachhead for himself before the first wave of rafts were launched. The timetable for Morgard's inspection was sped up rapidly the night before when their defenses were breached. As enraged as the general had been when he first heard the news, he was also somewhat relieved. The surprise attack, which had claimed two Guards, also spurred his entire army into action. The men had been ornery since their arrival to the Green. The effect of the shock and awe display Morgard had made of the cartographers and surveyors had worn off by then. The colonels had done their best to keep the men in line, what with assigning shifts for construction of the rafts and the defenses of the camp. Guards who talked back or expressed insubordination were quickly disciplined. Despite the efforts, Morgard had sensed a growing resentment from the ranks, one that all but vanished as soon as the war horns announced the breach. Even those Guards who hesitated to wake in the middle of the night due to drunkenness or laziness, were soon swept into the fervor once they reached the shores to help mount the amphibious launch.

Comrade helping comrade. To fight. For country and victory. Morgard breathed deeply. Yes, he thought. This is my purpose. To lead these men to conquest.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The firing of blank rounds before their march on Osley was the result of a tradition that had begun in the campaign against Jadin, a former republic in the south annexed into Czaria twenty years earlier. While much of the country had conceded during the annexation, pockets of resistance had formed, especially in the foothills where some of the richest mines were located. The Jadinese insurgents were burrowed deep in their hill towns and many expressed the willingness to hold out for months or years if necessary. Morgard had always despised sieges, feeling that it slowly chipped away at morale and made for poor battles in the end. Thus during the campaign for Jadin he ordered a bit of psychological warfare.

The night preceding an assault, his forces would fire blank rounds. Simple though it seemed, its effects were often to the benefit of the Guard. Three small townships surrendered as a result, under terms that provided three-fourths of their male population to the gulags of Czaria for a work term of no less than seven years. A fourth township was driven so mad by the incessant explosions that they actually attacked first in the predawn hours, but in doing so revealed their key positions and were easily defeated by Morgard's forces. Other townships which did not surrender were later discovered to have lost some of their fighters to suicide during the onslaught of the blasts. Such news was welcome to Morgard, who had no appetite for cowards in battle, no matter their origin or cause.