The sound of trumpets blared from the enemy's positions.
They probably hadn't expected us to cross the river with absolutely no preparation. They'd been watching our movements at a leisurely pace, trying to get a read on our forces' condition. But with Laura at the head, twelve mercenary captains and three hundred cavalry behind them surged forward in a single breath.
I managed a bitter smile.
"You really can't be stopped, can you? Well then — let's give chase."
I pulled on the reins. The warhorse snorted and pawed the ground. It was a fine black-maned stallion, a gift from Barbatos. My riding skills were honestly nothing to speak of, but the beast treated this shallow river as though it were nothing more than dry earth.
Hundreds of cavalry crossed the river in unison.
It was a spectacle.
Splashing sounds erupted from every direction as a misty white spray rose all around. From above, the sunlight poured down, deflected off the pristine white peaks of the Alps. Just as the evening glow shone brilliantly through a thin curtain, the spray of water became a curtain of its own, scattering the light in a radiant haze.
"Your Grace, it's dangerous! Please fall back!"
The dwarf mercenary captain caught up with Laura.
"I have no intention of cowering behind my troops and commanding like a coward!"
"To a commander, the bravery of a common soldier is nothing but the recklessness of a fool! Your Grace, please reconsider!"
"Then you shall ride ahead of me."
I could hear Laura laughing. I was right on the two of them, but the roar of the water made their conversation impossible to catch clearly — though I could more or less guess what was being said.
"So you ride ahead of us, and we ride ahead of you. Then there's no problem at all!"
The mercenary captains were left speechless.
To that, Laura delivered her final blow.
"New military decree! Anyone who arrives at the enemy's position after myself will be punished under military law! I shall judge that anyone who arrives late has forfeited the right to call themselves a gentleman of Helvetia!"
Laura let her golden hair stream behind her and actually increased her horse's speed. The mercenary captains must have been exasperated, but what could they do? After all, you couldn't exactly appoint your supreme commander as the vanguard leader.
"Damn it! We accept the order!"
"Who would have thought I'd end up following someone like this as my field commander in my lifetime!"
The captains charged past Laura and surged forward. It was the kind of reckless, throw-caution-to-the-wind attitude — to hell with it, let's just go for it.
With the captains leading the charge on horseback, the soldiers rallied and followed close behind. Hundreds of cavalry crossed the river in the blink of an eye.
The enemy still hadn't managed to form ranks. They were just firing off arrows in scattered volleys. A few arrows loosed at several hundred charging cavalry who never stopped moving — they barely hit anything.
The cavalry simply leaped over the palisades on the side where no defenders were stationed.
And before the enemy could so much as stammer, they allowed the cavalry to pour right in.
The enemy scrambled to gather together and form shield walls. In a few spots, around twenty men actually succeeded in linking up. But those hastily assembled formations were completely passive.
"Don't attack the shield walls!"
Laura shouted. She had entered the enemy lines one step behind the mercenary captains.
"Disrupt them before they can gather! We're hunting them!"
The battle-hardened mercenaries understood Laura's intent immediately. They bypassed the infantry that had formed shield walls and went straight for the isolated foot soldiers who hadn't managed to rejoin their comrades.
Charging at full gallop while swinging their curved blades, the cavalry cut down enemies who couldn't even mount a defense — they toppled like stalks of sorghum. By the time the enemy allowed cavalry to flood in before they could form ranks, the outcome was self-evident.
"AAAAGH!"
"R-Retreat! Retreat!"
It was over in an instant.
The enemy force, roughly two hundred strong, was routed without ever putting up a fight. Everyone was hunted down — except for a handful who had fled the moment the river crossing began, truly wise men who had mastered the art of survival.
The shield-wall formations were dispatched at leisure with arrows and thrown spears. Having watched their comrades get slaughtered, the survivors were surely terrified. After five or six men were wounded by arrow fire, the rest surrendered without hesitation.
About fifty were taken prisoner. They found themselves surrounded by scowling dwarves and an elf who, contrary to his race's image, looked like he'd chew you out for fun. Laura turned to the ashen-faced captives and asked a question.
"Who is your commanding officer?"
The soldier who met Laura's gaze faltered. He seemed to feel guilty about divulging information about his own side. In response, Laura swung her sword without hesitation. The blade pierced clean through the center of the captive's throat.
"Guh... gack..."
The sound was similar to gargling phlegm. The captive let out a scream far too pathetic to be called a man's final breath, then collapsed lifelessly onto the grass.
"Hm."
Laura flicked her longsword lightly to shake the blood from the blade. She turned her gaze to the next captive, who gasped in terror.
"Who is your commanding officer?"
"It's His Grace, Duke Sforza!"
The captive prostrated himself flat on the ground.
Ludovico de Sforza. He was the lord who ruled the great city of Milan. During the Chrysanthemum War, he had opposed the Farnese family and supported the current royal court. Milan was the leading power that commanded the northern front of Sardinia. He was an impeccable choice for supreme commander in this war.
"Sforza, the Duke of Milan. A fitting appointment."
Laura nodded.
"Is Count Pavia under the Duke of Milan's command?"
"I-I'm sorry, sir. I wouldn't know that much..."
It was difficult for a common soldier to know the exact composition of the command structure. Fortunately, not all of them were equally ignorant, and Laura was able to determine that Count Pavia was among the enemy forces. She also learned that the enemy's main camp was situated in the city of Novara.
While Laura interrogated the captives and studied the map, the rest of their forces crossed the river at a leisurely pace. Though it hadn't been a major battle, the soldiers wore relaxed expressions, buoyed by the satisfying victory in the opening engagement.
"What do you intend to do, Your Grace?"
That was me asking Laura.
For the record, I had charged onto the battlefield much the same way Laura had, but I hadn't actually fought. I simply pulled out the crossbow slung across my back and loosed a few arrows. I'm a pacifist, after all. My creed is to leave the scary fights to the scary lady.
"Hmm. Rather than setting up a forward base, the enemy has made the city their stronghold."
Laura placed her finger on the map. The mercenary captains had gathered around her, leaning in to listen.
"The only reason they haven't abandoned the city and advanced is because their forces haven't gathered in sufficient numbers yet."
The Empire had been thinking about war from the very beginning. Sardinia, on the other hand, had tried to resolve things through diplomacy. Naturally, when it came to the speed of responding to war, Sardinia was half a step behind.
There was one more factor that turned that half-step into a full step. The Empire had essentially monopolized the Helvetica mercenary market. From Sardinia's perspective, Helvetica was the fastest and most easily accessible mercenary market available. And we had gotten there first...
No matter how desperately Sardinia scrambled to muster their armies, they were inevitably going to be somewhat late. We were one step ahead of the enemy.
"Right about now, Sardinia's central regions are probably in the midst of calling in mercenaries. Until all their forces have assembled, they'll use the city as their stronghold and play defense. That's the enemy's strategy."
"Your Highness. Then the defensive garrison guarding the city can't be all that impressive."
An elven mercenary captain spoke up.
"The enemy hasn't yet realized we've already marched on them. If we press forward right now, we can easily surround Milan."
"That's the inferior option."
Laura shook her head.
"They may not have mercenaries, but that doesn't mean they lack militia. When it comes to defending their home city, even militia fighters will dig in and fight to the death. Besides, Milan is a major city. It won't fall easily."
So that's it. Sardinia adopted a defensive strategy because they were counting on the militia's hometown pride.
Militia are weaker than mercenaries. But when it comes specifically to defending their hometown, they can display surprisingly formidable fighting power. If the city falls, their families, their parents, their children will be plundered. They have no choice but to resist the invaders with everything they have.
"Also, look at where the enemy's main base of Novara is positioned."
Laura pointed at the map.
"Right next to Milan, Your Highness."
"Exactly. If we attack Milan, they can send reinforcements immediately. In other words, the enemy has likely deployed their militia in Milan and stationed all their remaining mercenaries here."
"That makes sense..."
The captains nodded seriously, stroking their chins.
Laura declared with absolute conviction.
"Listen well, all of you. The enemy's basic strategy relies on citizen militia and mercenaries. The citizen militia will defend Milan, while the mercenaries will operate in small guerrilla units to harass us. The objective of this operation is to buy time until enough forces can assemble in their rear."
The captains nodded in understanding. Several of them wore expressions of admiration. I was among them, I'll admit.
I'm an amateur when it comes to military strategy. But I know enough to appreciate how extraordinary Laura is. Reading the opponent's intentions every single time—that is Laura's defining trait and greatest strength.
She pieces together the enemy's operational plan by combining fragmented scraps of information. It sounds simple when you put it into words, but in reality, Laura had only obtained two pieces of intelligence from the prisoners: that the enemy commander was the Duke of Milan, and that their main base was in Novara.
With just two pieces of information, she had constructed the entire strategy in an instant. This wasn't some trick that a mediocre talent like me could hope to imitate. The mercenary captains must have realized what kind of genius their supreme commander possessed. There were still many who remained only half-convinced, though.
Laura spoke.
"If we attack Milan here, we'll be playing right into the enemy's hands. The siege of Milan is off the table."
"Your Highness. What about pillaging freely in the surroundings of Milan?"
The dwarven mercenary captain made the suggestion. He was the captain who had received Laura's kiss.
"If the areas around the city are plundered on a large scale, the Duke of Milan won't be able to just sit behind his walls."
"In exchange, our Imperial army will earn a fearsome reputation."
Laura shook her head once more.
"So you're saying we should wound innocent civilians because of a dispute over noble honor? Off the table."
"Pillaging in wartime is no vice, Your Highness."
"That's because war itself is a vice. We have no need to turn the people against us of our own accord."
The captains tilted their heads. Doubt filled their eyes.
"If neither a siege nor pillaging is permitted, then this one honestly doesn't know what we should do."
"You've misunderstood me. I simply ordered that Milan itself must not be touched."
Laura tapped a specific section of the map with her fingertip.
"Any region that is not Milan—if it's somewhere our Empire has the rightful claim to plunder, then there's no issue."
Pavia.
"Pavia" was written in cursive script at the spot Laura pointed to.
"We won't attack Milan, and we won't attack Novara either. We'll pass swiftly between the two cities and head straight for Pavia. They're the ones who sold our subjects into slavery. And on top of that, the Count of Pavia dared to insult His Majesty the Emperor."
She smiled.
"They won't be able to make excuses now that we've come to plunder them. Gentlemen—let's bring hell to Pavia."
============================ Author's Notes ============================
I've posted a map of northern Sardinia in the worldbuilding section.