Chapter 40: Sultan of Winjid
In the mountain forest of the Mengla Mountain Range.
"Miss, the Western Empire has gone to war with the Southern Empire. Emperor Galios has besieged the city of Poros shortly after Fajon's recent death."
Alva, Nadim, and Para sat around the campfire.
"The legions led by Sultan Winjid will be able to arrive under the city of Razih in two days, and this time, we will definitely be able to recover the lost ground."
"Our people are almost ready, it's time to take back Razieh. Still no contact with the rest of the Salan tribe's troops?"
"No, in the entire Saran Tribe, we should be the only unit left, will Winjid recognize us?"
"After Razieh City is captured, will it really be partitioned to the Saran Tribe again?"
"The probability is that it will, those Emir lords who can't get the city won't give it up to a tribe with a large number of cities, this group won't encourage other tribes."
"How many days before the Legendary Mercenaries of Antara arrive?" Alva asked.
"It will take another five or six days to arrive, and we might miss the attack on Razih. Do you really bear to let these mercenaries, who don't even have enough armor and weapons, rush to attack the city?" Nadeem asked.
"This bunch of mercenaries can't fight against the regular forces of the Southern Empire yet, letting them attack the city is like sending them to their deaths. It's good to miss it like this, and if we can clean up the battlefield in time, it won't be a waste of their trip. Tomorrow let's pull out our camp and head to Razieh City."
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Two days later, outside Razieh City.
Aselai's legions surrounded Razieh City, and shit-colored tents filled the open space outside Razieh City.
The shit yellow flags of each tribe fluttered between the various tents. Groups of soldiers sat around a fire, roasted meat and cakes sizzling in the seemingly dying coals as the soldiers lazily chattered away.
In front of a tall main tent.
Sultan Winjid and the leaders of the various tribes stood on a wooden platform several meters high.
Sultan Winjid - the "Desert Blade" of Asele - looks like a mountain of black rock split by the hot sun. His skin was a sandy color, almost bronze, and he had a half-moon shaped stubble from his cheekbones to his jaw, as if it were a crescent moon wrinkled by the night wind; a narrow scar on his left cheek, running from the corner of his eye to the corner of his mouth, appeared and disappeared like a curtain of sand lifted by the wind when he spoke.
The wrapped turban was braided with the finest white silk and gold threads, with a strand of dark red-stained spike dangling from the end - rumor had it that it was the blood of the Imperial General he had beheaded with his own hands. Narrow black eyes are hidden in deeply concave sockets, with two grains of charcoal burned to the core sunk underneath; when they gaze upon you, you hear the sound of hay bursting in tongues of fire.
He was clad in light armor of rhinoceros hide and black iron sheets embellished by the artisans of Asele, the edges of which were worn with sand like the cracks of a dry lake bed. The hem of the outer indigo robe had faded to a grayish white, but was still embroidered with prayers in silver thread. "The wind is the sharp edge, the sand is the grave." A single-edged scimitar hangs at his waist, its sheath wrapped in faded purple antelope skin, and a moon long stone embedded in its tsuba, which glows with a cold phosphorescent light even in the daytime.
When he raised his hand in a gesture, his knuckles were thick. The wind rustled the fine golden scales lining his cloak as if the entire desert were whispering his name. Winjid, Winjid-the name that withered oases and silenced camel bells.
"You have all seen the woman standing at the head of the city, wrapped in leopard skin over her armor; that is Ila, the only daughter of Queen Ragaiya." Sultan Winjid said to the leaders of the various tribes beside him, "Pass down the order that anyone who captures Ila alive, clad in leopard skin, will be rewarded with a thousand gold coins."
"Yes," the Mamluk palace guards behind him led the order and passed it down to the various tents.
"Sultan, when do we attack?" Alva asked respectfully from the side.
"Alva, don't worry about it, I'll give you the main attack, and at that time I hope you'll be as brave as ever!"
Teis, the leader of the Gilead tribe, was just about to grab the chance to speak, but was interrupted by Sultan Winjid waving his hand. For this restless tribal leader, the commander-in-chief who had led his legions to attack Razih City for the first time only to be defeated, Sultan Wenjide did not give him a good face.
"Then it is settled! Sultan, the warriors of the Saran tribe can't wait." Alva's tone was firm.
Alva returned to the tent where the Saran tribe was located, being able to receive such a reply from the Sultan, she was already very satisfied with that. Attacking the city might bring huge casualties, but they were also able to get the corresponding first merit, and the chances of obtaining the city of Razieh after the battle increased greatly. This seemed to have become a tradition agreed upon in Asele, the tribe that served as the main attacker generally had more battle merit, and the probability of receiving a share of the city would increase drastically.
"Have all the soldiers continue to push the formations and queues inside the tent, all soldiers must work together so that they can advance and kill the enemy in an orderly manner on the battlefield," Alva instructed Nadim.
"Yes, my lady," Nadim told all the soldiers to return to their respective tents and repeat the formation rehearsals and formation changes on a tent by tent basis.
The tacit cooperation between soldiers was often more useful than having good armor and weapons. In the past few months in Mengla Mountain Range, Alva's troops trained, fought against bandits, and recruited soldiers day in and day out, in order to be able to kill their way back to Razieh, recover the lost lands of the Salan Ministry, and restore the former glory of the Salan Ministry.
Alva's troops had also expanded from a few dozen when he fled Razieh to more than two hundred. Although most of the soldiers hadn't experienced battlefield killings, they had all experienced small-scale battles such as banditry, and with the long-term training, the soldiers had gradually adapted to battle formation drills.
Nadim improved the soldiers' formation based on battlefield experience. Three people were in a group, ten people were in a team, and every ten people had a decapod leading three groups in battle. A group of three people cooperated with each other, helped each other, and advanced and retreated together. A team of three groups cooperate with each other, in a battlefield can form a small array, can be timely together to form a shield wall, but also can quickly spread out, to start the fight.
In a group, there are at least five shield soldiers, one holding a one-handed weapon and one holding a shield; there are three lancers or three soldiers holding two-handed weapons, and the other two are bow soldiers. The shield soldiers were able to form a shield wall for defense or attack with shields in time; the lancers or soldiers with two-handed weapons were able to break the formation in time; as for the two bow soldiers, they were tasked with a heavy responsibility and were used to clear the enemies that posed a threat to the squad in time.
Nadim has always been strict with the archers, often personally supervising the training of the archers, and for those who acted lazily and coped with the training, Nadim personally held a whip and beat them, making these archers complain bitterly. For the archers in the private discussion, Nadim is not thought of, self-concerned in accordance with their own way of training. Nadim had his own understanding of archers, well-trained archers who could hit with a single shot were often able to turn the tide of battle and win with fewer shots; even the knights of the Southern Empire had parts of their bodies that could not be covered by armor, and as long as there was a shortcoming, it would be fatal.