23. The Coalition Arrives


    The Church of Light expeditionary army was led by a certain Mansur of Amoreb. A light blue flag with a golden flame marched across Wersh.


    “How lovely it is to see you Mansur,” the governor of Wersh said, “we were expecting you.”


    Mansur was a tall tanned man with brown eyes and brown hair, not too dissimilar from Utbah. Commanding 5000 cavalry and 10,000 infantry as well as some 200 church of light priests as well as a baggage train for supplies.


    “We will refill your supplies, for as long as you need them,” the governor said rather obsequiously.


    “Right?” Mansur said, side eying him, and looking behind to his troops.


    A spy immediately grovelled at Mansur’s feet.


    “The situation is terrible, general Omar was beaten in the field, Isa is left in the west, but you must rescue him before things get bad.”


    “Isa is trapped?” Mansur asked, cocking his head in a questioning tone, “these Yerek have really bludgeoned you huh?”


    “Commander, remember you are a guest in their lands,” a lieutenant said.


    “These fools are losing to polytheists,” Mansur said.


    “Those polytheists have already couped a kingdom, let’s not be too presumptuous here Mansur,”


    Mansur slapped the lieutenant with his gauntleted hand. The man in question played it off, as it hit the back of his head.


    Cunt. Man’s going to get us all killed.


    Nichomachus occasionally assisted Salutius in his efforts. A whole day had passed since the annihilation of Omar’s army, and the urban poor received more food and flour than every before. With each new load of believers the production process of the Republic became even more impressive. It started in the evening, but ex slaves managed to beat up the secret police, urban poor and even shop keepers arresting the soldiers in their barracks. The extra security detail would be shown up by an unlikely ally. Utbah had waltzed straight in, his camels led straight in by rebels who had taken over some gatehouses. There was chaos in the streets as the tricolour began appearing over gatehouse after gatehouse. The year of 570 had become a momentous one, and yet it was only the summer of the year. Utbah who was supposed to reinforce the revolt of Polt, marched in, and then marched out. He had hired 1000 camel mercenaries and left the city to the confusion of all loyal to the Republic. The port and the royal palace were still in control of Polt’s authorities, while most of the city walls and the population centres were under control of Yerek and ‘the three.’


    “Glory to the Republic!” Nichomachus shouted, “we will liberate Polt from the tyranny of the King and his lackeys!” Where in the fuck did you go Utbah?


    Utbah was wearing desert protective gear, but he had dark features, tanned skin, dark eyes and black hair, he gelled it with a gel, shaving his beard meticulously, much of his army had beards, but he did not keep to the tradition. He rode out of Polt, gathering any information.A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    “Has Nichomachus established friendly contacts eastwards?” He asked.


    “I’m not sure,” a camel rider next to him asked.


    “We go south then, go to a friendly village and then strike them where they least expect it.”


    I know you’re coming you fiends. I know it, you know, we all know it.


    While Utbah left 15,000 Uruq soldiers reinforced the port, their fleet docking and reinforcing the situation for Ahmed. The King of Poltu would now be a puppet for foreign powers, swamped by foreign troops.


    Wersh had become a supply dump for the foreign expeditionary armies, after Mansur came an army from Jira numbering some 30,000 commanded by Marwan. He had heard of the war that Yerek had waged on Poltu, having already taken Gharb and Polt itself was not teetering, they had already amassed their army to take back Moru.


    “Send the scouts forward, we need to liberate Poltu from these filthy savages!”


    Marwan commanded 10,000 camel riders and 20,000 infantry, a sizeable force to be sure, and one that the Church of Light hoped would stave and contain the revolution that had been spreading. Mercurius and Salutius got to supplying Polt insurgents with crossbows, endlessly bringing in supplies. Perhaps 100,000 of the residents were on the side of Yerek, with 50,000 still siding with the Church of Light regime. The palace walls were guarded furiously, battles in some streets seemingly continuous.


    “We can’t bribe the harbour as it is crawling with Uruq troops now, it seems we are not facing Poltu, we are facing all the Church of Light countries,” Salutius said, “I do not wish to bring slaughter to the residents of Polt.”


    “Shaking off these armies will not be so simple,” Mercurius said.


    Offered free coffees by a local coffee house, they were nonetheless bringing precious resources to the districts loyal to the Republic. Uruq’s troops tried to advance, moving into crossbow bolt barrages, some Church of Light priests getting frustrated and shooting fireballs. The commander of the Uruq detachments was shot dead, and his men were beset with an angry mob, which shot him so relentlessly that he retreated back into the protection of the harbour city walls.


    “I can open the gates,” Mercurius said, “but the harbour is likely still full of their troops.”


    1000 men had been shot to death, with only 100 residents dead, such casualties filled the revolutionaries with confidence.


    “What was Utbah up to?” Salutius wondered aloud, “Nichomachus said he was hiring tribal cavalry, does he even care about Yerek?”


    “He does,” Nichomachus said, “he is, respectfully, a better commander than you two, no doubt you have founded a nation, and instigated revolution. He excels in mobile warfare, and unrestricted by baggage trains, he will do things no one expects.”


    “Oh?” Mercurius said in surprise, “I can’t wait to see what that is.”


    Mansur had marched out of Wersh toward Polt, taking the coastal road, he was in fact not that far from the capital of Poltu; the desert winds restricted vision much to the detriment of Mansur who assumed everything was normal.


    “Have our scouts spotted anything?” Mansur said,


    “No sir, there are villages hailing the Yerek flag, but they are deeper in the interior.”


    “Don’t say that disgusting name,” Mansur spat.


    His flag fluttered beautifully in the wind, but from the east not the west came his foe. Utbah used his light camels to smash into the Church of Light priests first, his 3000 heavy camels, 1000 of which mercenaries smashed in mere moments later. The cavalry outright panicked and ran, the momentum of the heavy camels, the smell, and the surprise making horses bolt out of the way. Most of the riders were killed, the mercenaries were tasked to mop up the infantry from the south, the marching infantry to disorganised to mount any kind of serious resistance. Mansur was slain mere moments later, the cavalry broke, the infantry broke, the mules and donkeys of the baggage train stopped at the sight of the army disintegrating. 1000 peasant crossbowmen soon began guiding captured prisoners of war, while Utbah began directing the captured loot.


    “3000 gold pieces,” Utbah laughed.


    2000 horse riders lay dead, 2000 infantrymen too, 6000 infantry had surrendered, with the remaining 2000 infantrymen running eastwards.


    “Your commander’s name?” One of the camel riders asked a captured soldier.


    “Mansur of Amoreb,” the soldier said, desperately avoiding the blade at his neck.


    “Amoreb huh?” Utbah said, nodding. They probably already functionally own Wersh. Some ‘assistance’ they must be. Wersh. It must be useful. Where can I get extra support. I’ll have to talk to Nichomachus, he has to create more friendly territory for me. Although I suppose I can.


    Utbah was deep in thought, but he would make the Church of Light tremble with every step.