Oriana (3)
The Mayor had been right; it didn’t take many days before the people of Gaggio, having secured the loot from their previous raid, descended from their mountain towards the lower Val di Magra.
In addition to foreseeing the situation, he had acted in advance and requested militias from the other towns in the valley, gathering a small army of his own.
If the villagers had remained in their fortified villages, the army of Gaggio would have looted the fields without encountering obstacles, so a battle had to take place. The raiders, in turn, couldn’t leave a crowd of hostile armed men behind them.
Knowing that the invaders couldn’t refuse the fight, Anselmo Bacci, the Mayor of Podenzana, had chosen the battleground in advance, with the walls of the village at their backs, a steep cliff to the right, and an orchard enclosed by a wall to the left, where he had hidden his thirty Feditori.
Between the two obstacles, the people of Podenzana had set up a wall of pavise shields, with crossbowmen behind them; many men had already served in the military under the Superba.
Thirty paces behind the formation, one could see a closed tent with colored bands, set up in the shade of two trees. Inside were two cots, Oriana, her tutor Donna Melandra, and another mage who called herself La Fornara, not one of the best, but still the better Podenzana’s finances could afford.
“So!” Melandra exclaimed, “Get yourselves ready; we have little time. I can already feel it, feel that Letizia Cordiviola is near and filling the air with her power. You, Fornara, must counter her as much as you can, keep her occupied so she doesn’t notice what we’re doing here. Oriana, lie down on the other cot, quickly, unless you think they’re waiting for you!”
If Podenzana had the classic communal militia with many armored foot soldiers and few horses, the people of Gaggio were an example of feudal army: poorly armed foot soldiers accompanied by a hundred knights from Provence and Alemaigne, with destriers and grand armor.
One of these, with a bear’s head stuffed on his helmet, asked and obtained permission from Baron Cordiviola to be the first in battle. He approached the enemy line on horseback, displaying skillful tricks with his lance and shouting for them to come and challenge him.
The people of Podenzana, too ignorant to understand his language and uninterested in such noble customs, shot him down with crossbows. An indignant cry rose from the other knights, furious at seeing their champion treated so uncouthly; they charged without any coordination before the Lord of Gaggio could order them.
Behind their pavise shields, the municipal foot soldiers had all the training necessary to withstand the charge, but there was something, a collective sense of heaviness in the breath, the crossbowmen’s vision doubled as they took aim, and others were seized by impressions, like a presence behind them, like a woman’s voice carried by the wind.
La Fornara lay on her cot, now freed from the elements. She held a piece of bread in her mouth soaked with essences. Sage, Valerian, Mandrake, Amanita, all dangerous stuff if she got the dosage wrong, but in the right proportions, the essences passed into the bloodstream through the mucous membranes and sent her out of the world.
In that state, she clearly sensed Donna Letizia’s presence, felt her enchantments tightening around the soldiers’ hearts. She also went to work, feeling she couldn’t compete with her strength, but she could prod her, distract her as she wanted to distract the soldiers.
For a moment, she even managed to see her, like a white image in the darkness, sitting cross-legged on an oval carpet. From her light, she fashioned a dagger for the adversary’s heart.
The people of Podenzana barely recoiled in time to withstand the impact. The shield wall remained intact, and the greatswordsmen sprang into action. These were chosen from the tallest men, wielding two-handed swords long enough to pass over the shields and the heads of their comrades, reaching the enemies on their horses.
“Lean on, Oriana. Let yourself be supported...”
Melandra was preparing her apprentice, caressing her along her body, whispering in her ear. Meanwhile, Oriana began her breathing exercises, considering what form to give to her magic. It had to be her apprentice’s masterpiece.
The knights retreated, followed by a barrage of bolts. Baron Graziano Cordiviola wasn’t discouraged by this initial setback; he knew the people of Podenzana wouldn’t go anywhere, and he would rotate his forces to tire them out and always have a rested reserve. He commanded his foot soldiers to form their shield wall and push forward.
Inside the tent, silence fell. Melandra focused on her apprentice’s heartbeat, placing her hands on her navel. She imagined touching a flower until she felt it bloom beneath her fingertips.
On the battlefield, the opposing infantries were engaged, wall against wall, all pushing frenziedly to break the other formation, with those in the front line seeking a gap between the shields to thrust their daggers.
Everyone kept their heads down, as the pike thrusts flew just above them and the greatsword blades waved. In reality, the footmen of Gaggio didn’t stand a chance of breaking the line of Podenzana, but it didn’t matter; they were only there to wear them down.
The Fornara seemed feverish, breathing heavily, with a trickle of blood flowing from her eyes. A sign that she was done for; Donna Letizia had finished devouring her alive and would now turn her attention back to the battle. Melandra, still firmly holding Oriana, made her sit with her back straight.
“Now or never. You might feel a pain coursing through your bones, but don’t be scared and don’t pull back. Open your eyes now!”
Baron Cordiviola had tightly arranged his cavalry into two wedges to strike the enemy line at two points. He ordered the foot soldiers to withdraw, knowing they wouldn’t be able to retreat in order. In fact, he counted on them breaking ranks as they fled, so the enemy would chase them and fall into the jaws of the cavalry.
Bacci immediately sensed the trap and had to rush to the front row, elbowing and shouting like a madman, but he managed to keep his men in place. However, the crossbowmen bid farewell to the fleeing enemies by shooting quadrelli to inflict maximum harm. When they saw the knights making their way through their fleeing foot soldiers and lowering their lances, they knew they had made a mistake. There was no time to reload. There wasn’t even time to catch their breath.
Notes:
La Superba : The Republic of Genoa.
Quadrelli : Square-section crossbow bolts, designed to cause lacerated wounds.
Verrettoni : Round-section crossbow bolts, armor piercing.
