Rumble, rumble, rumble, rumble...
The synchronization of the second round of shelling decreased slightly, causing the thunderous tremors, though without reflection, to still carry a lingering, echoing quality. Fire and thick smoke appeared first, the sound arrived a beat later, and finally came the answering cannonballs. Mathis Rowan's shoulder twitched, and he could not help but hold his breath, as if fearing that even his breathing would summon the cannonballs.
There was an interval between the two rounds of shelling, and the formation, which had already half unfolded, successfully spread into a sparser horizontal line. In addition to the reduced density, there were now scattered cases of soldiers in the ranks dodging rolling cannonballs after seeing them and being mentally prepared. With these two factors combined, the casualties were clearly lower than before, when they had been caught completely unprepared.
But it was only somewhat lower, that was all. Dozens of cannonballs still smashed through the shields hastily raised by the front rank, tore bloody gaps through the crowd, and easily inflicted nearly another hundred casualties on the cannon fodder vanguard under Rowan's command. Although the number was lower than in the first round, the shock it dealt to the commander was actually even greater. The reason was simple, this time the cannonballs landed closer to him. The most dangerous one even struck below the gentle slope where Rowan's command post stood, tearing apart ranks of soldiers directly before his eyes before bouncing twice with heavy thuds, and finally ending its skipping by embedding itself early in the mud because of the slope's incline, only twenty to thirty meters in front of him, allowing several knights of House Rowan, who had nearly been ready to drag their lord away by force, to breathe a sigh of relief.
As the sound of the cannons faded, the pale gunpowder smoke, driven by the southeast wind, drifted like a huge veil toward the Riverlands vanguard. Before the battle had even begun, the casualty rate was already nearing two percent. While terrified, the command layer finally reacted and began to assess the battlefield situation.
"My lord, if we endure two more rounds of shelling like this, our army will collapse without a fight!" Ser Osric Strongtower swallowed hard and advised gravely. "Whether we fight or retreat, please give the order quickly. Every second of hesitation means more Reachmen will never be able to return home to reunite with their families!"
Fight or retreat?
Reunite with their families?
It was all nonsense.
More important than the lives of the ordinary "Reachmen" was the fact that, under the present circumstances, there was no guarantee that the next round of shelling would not land on one's own head. As vassals, they could not abandon their lord and flee. All they could do was naturally offer advice.
Though they spoke in righteous terms, the knights serving as advisers and personal guards naturally knew that their task today was to feign defeat and lure the enemy, and it was certainly not this vanguard's role to defeat the unstoppable black-clad devil opposite them. Based on their understanding of their liege lord, Mathis Rowan, once he realized that the enemy's firepower exceeded expectations, he would absolutely not order a suicidal charge. Their urging him to give the order quickly was false. Their real aim was to urge him to agree to retreat.
"My lord, I noticed one detail." Compared with Ser Osric Strongtower, who had already lost his composure, Ser Vayon of Coldmoat was clearly calmer and more collected. "For the enemy's cannonballs to bounce repeatedly along the ground, they require an extremely precise angle. As long as there is even a slight slope or rise to block them, their lethality will drop sharply. We need only move the command post from the crest of the slope to the reverse side, and the danger will be greatly reduced."
Mathis Rowan was certainly tempted by the suggestion of withdrawing from immediate danger, but having seen storms before, he was not so afraid of death that he would forget his duties as commander just because others urged him to.
"If we move behind the slope, what about observing and directing the battlefield?"
"Order the scouts and standard-bearers to remain in place, and we will take cover behind the rise. That way, we will not lose control of the battlefield, and we can still ensure safety."
"Exactly!" Ser Osric immediately echoed when he saw the opening. "My lord, an army cannot be without its commander. Even if you cannot yet decide whether to fight or retreat, you should at least ensure your own safety first!"
That a reverse slope could defend against artillery fire was likely something Ser Vayon had become the first native of the entire world of Ice and Fire to realize. Mathis Rowan, already somewhat cowed, heard his vassals' persuasive and seemingly reasonable advice and could no longer think any further. Taking advantage of the suggestion, he withdrew with his standard-bearers to the reverse side of the gentle slope, surrounded by his attendants and guards. This rise was indeed very gentle, so gentle that it could not even block the rays of the sun, which had only recently risen above the horizon. But once both Daenerys's army's orderly formation and the smoke from the artillery disappeared from sight, the threat of ricochet damage was basically eliminated, and the reason that had been driven away by cannon fire and bloodshed immediately returned to the mind of the Lord of Goldengrove.
A charge would certainly be suicide, but was it really any better to hide himself and leave the soldiers standing there waiting to die?
The Reach plains were indeed boundless, but beneath their broad flatness, the ground was still covered with subtle undulations ranging from less than a man's height to several meters high, just like the reverse slope where he was hiding now. If the whole army could find cover, the situation of passively enduring shelling could be greatly alleviated.
He proposed this idea to several advisers, but did not receive a positive response. They might not be famous generals, but they possessed basic military common sense and deductive ability. Undulations on a plain were by no means distributed in any regular pattern. If the whole army were ordered to find slopes and take cover, the battle line would inevitably break into scattered segments, easily vulnerable to enemy attack.
There was another hidden danger as well. In this age without radios or speaking tubes, a commander's control over his battle line depended mainly on signal flags, musical instruments, and messengers, and occasionally on lower-ranking officers making a certain degree of independent judgment when the chain of command was cut. And all of these methods required both ends of the transmission to remain within a relatively short distance of each other. After all, even when making an independent judgment, one at least needed to observe the movements and state of nearby friendly forces as a basis for judgment.
Therefore, the most likely problem was this: his order to "scatter and take cover" might barely be transmitted, but once it was carried out, the various units would vanish from the command post's control like mud oxen sinking into the sea, easy enough to send out, impossible to call back.
What to do?
Second after second passed, and cold sweat slowly beaded on Lord Rowan's brow. One chilling and persistent thought placed enormous pressure on him. While he was foolishly discussing countermeasures with others, the enemy artillery within Daenerys's army formation was busily reloading, preparing to unleash a third round of direct fire and reap more casualties.
That intense urgency finally squeezed out a flash of inspiration. He suddenly remembered that, since his purpose in leading this vanguard was not to defeat Daenerys's army, why should he care whether the formation remained continuous and complete?
To avoid disgrace, he could only treat a dead horse as if it were still alive.
The now-clearheaded Mathis Rowan's eyes suddenly sharpened. "Pass on the order. Command the whole army to find gentle slopes on the spot, leave the standard-bearers on the crests to keep up morale, and have the main force reform behind the rises!"
"But my lord... if the enemy launches an attack..."
"I haven't finished! The disciplinary corps will patrol behind the lines and ensure that the standards of every unit remain standing. Any unit whose battle standard falls before the enemy attacks will be dealt with under military law!" He paused slightly, then added, "Once the enemy launches an infantry or cavalry attack, there is no need to wait for orders. The entire army will retreat at once. Standards and supplies may all be abandoned. Run as fast as you can!"
As a decoy, this vanguard had brought enough banners to sustain morale. As long as the banners remained standing, the Western Expeditionary Army could not continue advancing. The logic behind the following order was even simpler. If "scatter and take cover" might be the last order he successfully issued today, then after that order, he would simply include the potentially necessary instructions that came after it as well.
If they neither fought nor retreated, what was the point of such a standoff?
Seeing the doubtful expressions on the faces of those around him, who clearly wanted to carry out the order but plainly did not understand, Rowan explained with confidence, "If the enemy continues shelling, we can hide behind the gentle slopes and consume their gunpowder at minimal cost, which would be a great achievement. And if they dare send troops to attack, our main cavalry force, which has already circled behind them, will become their nightmare!"
(To be continued.)