Chapter 793: Chapter 70 Time Chapter 793: Chapter 70 Time [The Battle of Terdun in Iron Peak County] will be a significant challenge to verify.
Due to the lack of scribes, the Iron Peak County Military couldn’t leave much in the way of written records.
The new government also failed to inherit the good practice of the old military officer system of “writing war history.”
The remaining directives, orders, and letters were filled with jargon and ciphers, leaving them incomprehensible.
As for the people of Terdun? They didn’t have a written language at all.
For the Herders, memories of war are romantic heroic epics chanted by old Shamans by the bonfire, mixed with a large amount of improvisation, classic tributes, and completely fictional scenes.
Perhaps in the future, some who witnessed this battle will publish their memoirs.
But we all know that memory is the most unreliable record because everyone distorts and embellishes their memories to suit their needs.
Even those who lie may not necessarily be lying, since they genuinely believe the memories are true.
Only the issues of “War Communication” printed on grass paper can help bystanders sketch a vague outline of the war. Follow current novels on novel-fire.net
Skilled propagandists are adept at presenting bad news as regular news, unacceptable news as tolerable, tolerable news as good, and good news as a splendid victory.
Winters obviously wasn’t skilled in this respect, because he honestly informed all of Iron Peak County in “War Communication” that Terdun had taken control of the Panto River ford.
On the night Bard led the militia to repel the first round of attacks, the second wave of Terdun’s assault followed closely behind.
Before that, Bard had already fended off several probing attacks by small squads of Terdun light cavalry.
Unlike Wolf Town, secluded in one corner, Blackwater Town and Wugou Town were separated from central Iron Peak County by only a stretch of water, providing convenient access.
By the time the people of Terdun invaded lower Iron Peak County, a large number of civilians from Blackwater Town and Wugou Town had been evacuated into central Iron Peak County territory.
The Terdun raiders who looted Blackwater Town and Wugou Town gained little and hoped to quietly enter the hunting grounds of other tribes—central Iron Peak County—to try their luck, but they were easily repelled by Bard’s militia.
However, when Terdun launched their real offensive, the pressure on Bard’s shoulders increased sharply.
A handful of sneaky plunderers attempting “poaching” were clearly not on the same level as the determined Terdun Cavalry aiming to seize the ford.
The first offensive was merely a probe by the vanguard.
In the second wave that night, Terdun not only committed more hundred-cavalry units but also concentrated a group of armored infantry for dismounted combat, viciously attacking the weak points of the chevaux-de-frise and wooden palisades.
Bows and slings were difficult to use effectively in nighttime battles, and as Terdun persistently attacked a single point, the combat became exceptionally brutal.
The whistling arrows of the Herd Barbarians, accompanied by terrifying screams, on several occasions even whizzed past Ish’s ears.
Exhausted, Ish raised his mace high and let out an involuntary groan of pain. With a concerted effort from his waist, abdomen, and arms, he swung the mace downward from above, viciously slamming it outside the palisades.
He couldn’t see where the barbarians were, just smashing in the direction of any moving shadows.
The makeshift mace, with a core of oak, had layers of linen cloth wrapped around it to increase tenacity, finished with tung oil and pitch.
Because there wasn’t enough time to dry the wooden core, the so-called mace was exceedingly heavy, more strenuous to use than pushing a stone roller uphill, but it was also more devastating.
As the mace was about to hit the ground, the shaft suddenly transmitted a jarring shock back into Ish’s hands, numbing them.
With a “crack,” the mace broke in two.
Ish thought he heard a scream, the crisp sound of a skull being crushed. It was possibly all an illusion, for the battlefield was too noisy, and he could hardly make out anything at all.
Many of the chevaux-de-frise had been pulled out, leaving behind only a thin wooden palisade between the two sides.
The Iron Peak County militia used all their might to batter the barbarians outside the fence, using not only maces but also flails with long handles.
The flail, originally a tool for farm work, now had its striking bar coated with brains.
Meanwhile, archers and stone slingers gritted their teeth, hurling arrows and rocks over the fence, most of them blindly targeting the general direction of the enemy, as if firing faster would make them safer.
The Terdun fighters were doing the same thing—constantly shooting arrows at any shadowy figures through the fence.
Ish noticed his mace was broken, yet it seemed not to have broken.
The linen cloth wrapped around the wooden core barely held the two segments together, leaving the mace looking like a broken arm, with the small section dangling.
The mace had turned into a large-sized flail, and Ish, out of complaints, lifted it again, panting heavily.
Another shriek approached from the distance, but this time, instead of soaring into the distance as before, it burrowed into Ish’s left leg.
Dulled by the fight, Ish paused for a moment before realizing he had been hit by an arrow.
With his last bit of strength, he swung the shaft against the barbarians outside the palisade, collapsing heavily onto the rocky shore.
The militia nearby, witnessing the sergeant wounded, chaotically lifted Ish to the rear of the line.
Seeing more and more injured being brought to the back, while Terdun’s assault showed no sign of weakening, the young horse boy Anglu was sweating profusely with urgency.
“Send in the reserves! Lieutenant,” Anglu urged as he rode up to Bard, requesting again, “This can’t go on, or the line will collapse!”
Bard, who was observing the battle, seemed devoid of any emotion, “It’s not time yet.”