Lands of Red and Gold #120: The Price of Burren
“We have no current plans for releasing an Aururian-themed setting for W&W. If we do, though, the Crusades era would have to be the basis. Mystique, swashbuckling, and the opportunity for anyone to better their lot in life. Set in a time of valiant heroes, mysterious immortals, overthrow of the old order, fading religions of head-hunters and caste-thinkers, and wealth to plunder. You’d hardly even need to add otherworldly beings.”
- Marlon Mylläri, co-creator of Wizards & Warriors, in Ampersand magazine, 1967
* * *
Carl Ashkettle has asked many questions of the man who calls himself Clements. Reaching the era of the Hunter offered one of the greatest highlights, one which he has gladly sought out. Clements has said much of the early crusades, but reaching the time of the Fifth Crusade marks, perhaps, the most interesting period of all.
Ashkettle says, “Let us turn, then, to the invasion of Yigutji, as part of the Fifth Crusade. You were still a herald then?”
“Indeed. That remained unchanged throughout all the Yalumas. Heralds marked the closest thing which the old era had to diplomats. Language skills won me that role – but you know all that. I stood alongside the Hunter and Amity Nyuman, carrying the blue banner, and listened as the Hunter offered Yigutji one last chance to submit.”
“He really gave them that?”
“As per his common practice. The Yigutji king was there, Puckapunyal, together with a couple of his officials, though I must confess that their names have long since slipped from my memory. The Hunter declared that he had beaten back the armies that first opposed him, that the city was surrounded, that he could find more food where they could not, and that the Tjibarri were a long way away.”
“Were they? The armies so far away, I mean?”
“Far enough that they did not matter. The Hunter said that if the city surrendered now, all would be spared unless they breached their surrender by taking up arms. He said that the king would be required to go into exile but guaranteed safe-conduct to Gutjanal or Tjibarr. If they refused, the city would face his wrath.”
“Even I know which way that decision went.”
Clements sighs. “They refused. More fool them. The Hunter always kept his word.”
* * *
23 June 1719
Yigutji [Wagga Wagga], Kingdom of Yigutji
The walls of Yigutji stood ahead in the distance, while behind him at an almost equal distance, part of the Dominion’s greatest army waited. Most of the rest of that army encircled Yigutji, with the others making patrols and raids in other parts of the kingdom, though none south of the Matjidi [Murrumbidgee River].
Kullerin had heard so much about this city, one of the three great cities of the Five Rivers, and the one most detested by the Hunter. Now, after several Yalumas, and many great battles, including the first major defeat of Five Rivers armies, the Hunter had brought the Dominion’s forces to encircle Yigutji’s capital.
Kullerin carried a banner that was itself of pure blue, but which had been temporarily daubed with four large dots of white ochre [1] to demonstrate how many people could attend the parley, including the herald. The Hunter, naturally, led the Dominion forces, with two of his Warego accompanying him, Malligo and Yongalla.
The Yigutjian side had King Puckapunyal, a man dressed in elaborate robes of bright orange, with pointed head adornments and what looked almost like wings rising from his shoulders. Accompanying him was another man introduced as the Lord of Winter, who wore crimson robes which were of similar style but less ornate, and someone called Warmaster Katawool, who wore mail. The herald, Kullerin’s counterpart, carried a similar white-dotted blue banner but remained nameless despite being ready to act as an interpreter.
With the introductions done, the Hunter started to speak. “You have-”
Puckapunyal said, “This is my kingdom. The right of first address is mine.”
The Hunter gave his usual grin. “Speak, then, if it pleases you.” They spoke in Nuttana, which Kullerin understood, and so did Malligo. Yongalla did not, so far as he knew.
“You have won a battle, but you have not won a war. The city still stands. Its walls have never been breached in siege, not by Tjibarr, not by Gutjanal, not by highlanders, not by Durigal. You will never take the city, and without the city, you will never conquer the kingdom.”
The Hunter said, “I hear many words, said by a man who must use words because he does not have sufficient men of valour and vision. Your armies have been defeated once. They will be defeated again.”
The king said, “Your cavalry is unrivalled. This is inarguable. But while that lets you raid where you please, it has its limits. Unless you can teach horses to climb walls, this will not let you conquer the city.”
“I have more than cavalry,” the Hunter said calmly. “Yigutji will fall, if I press the attack. I give you this opportunity to submit. Surrender the city now, and I will be merciful. All who live within the walls will be spared. Even you, Your Majesty, though you must depart the city and the kingdom and seek refuge elsewhere. So long as you do not return to the lands which were once Yigutji, your life will be safe.”
“You have brought many men in siege,” the king said. “Do you think you can feed them all? Stripping the countryside bare will only work for so long, even without Tjibarri and Gutjanalese soldiers fighting against you.”
The Hunter laughed. “The Neeburra is a land full of cattle, and you ask if I can find food? You would do better to ask if you can find sufficient food within your walls.”
“We have sufficient. More, Yigutji is on the river. What food we lack, we can bring in by boat, something which your cavalry cannot stop.”
He is wrong there. The city of Yigutji was above the river, not on it. Kullerin had been impressed by the many things which had been built on the river. Not just docks; he had seen those before. But there were also many constructions built floating on the river and anchored to the docks. Malligo called them mills and said that they were used to grind wealth-seeds into flour, for making paper, and for other purposes which he did not bother to explain.
Those constructions were all gone now, burned or razed. The Hunter’s forces could stop anything coming in by river. The Kiyungu had made the same mistake at Nyandra [Indooroopilly, QLD], as Kullerin had witnessed. Not that he would point this out unless the Hunter wished it.
“Are you so sure of that?” the Hunter said.
“Are you so sure that you can find food and bring in sufficient herds without risking them?” the king answered.
“Let the Tjibarri try to stop us moving in our herds. It will only make them easier to defeat in open battle, rather than letting them, too, cower behind walls.”
King Puckapunyal turned to Malligo. He spoke in Gunnagal, which Kullerin understood but the Hunter did not. “Malligo, you were honoured in Tjibarr. Why have you betrayed your country by fighting against it and its allies?”
Malligo’s reply came in the Nuttana speech. “I am not betraying my country. I am bettering my country. Who rules a country matters only in so far as it brings the nation toward the right path.”
Malligo looked at Kullerin, and spoke in Yalatji. “Herald, would you be so good as to translate the original question and my answer into Yalatji, so that all here know what was said?”
And so that no-one will accuse you of mistranslating either to conceal your motives. After seeing Malligo’s mind in action over the years, Kullerin felt that he knew him. This was a man whose mind had many turns, but could always be relied on to offer his insight for the Dominion’s advantage. So Kullerin did as requested and translated both statements.
The Hunter grinned at Malligo. “Well said.” He turned back to the Yigutjians. “A last chance to spare your people, Your Majesty. Remember this: I have besieged many cities, and every city I have ever besieged has fallen.”
“Let this be your first defeat, then,” the king said.
“Then we are done here. If I see you alive again, it will be only so I can order your execution.” The Hunter turned his horse around and rode away, leaving the Warego and Kullerin to watch the Yigutjians withdraw back toward their city.
* * *
Clements says, “The siege would be difficult. Everyone knew that, even the boldest of the Dominion’s commanders. The city could hold out for many months, perhaps years. The more hot-blooded commanders urged the Hunter to make an assault instead. They said he had more foot-men than ever before, that they had plenty of ropes and ladders, and that the Yigutjians were cowards who would not have the mettle to stand against Dominion forces if they could get atop the walls.”
“Did anyone counsel caution?” Ashkettle asks.
“Perhaps some did. None in my hearing, though. All public speeches favoured the assault.”
* * *
29 June 1719
Yigutji, Kingdom of Yigutji
Yigutji. The northernmost of the three great capitals of the Five Rivers. The heir to the imperial legacy. For so long the enemy of Tjibarr. A hatred which had not been forgotten, despite all the long years of official alliance.
And despite Yigutji marching in battle alongside Tjibarr, it is still my enemy. Malligo found that irony amusing, though long years of schooling in the Endless Dance stopped him from showing it on his face. Even living in the Dominion, where openness and frank speaking were encouraged, could not change the habits ingrained in him since childhood. Humour should only be shown when it was called for.
The walls of Yigutji stood high, even when seen from a distance carefully out of musket range. The Hunter did not approach even so close. Not out of fear of attack, but to keep his promise to the Yigutjian monarch that the next time he saw him, he would have him executed. A pity, that, since looking at the walls this closely might remind the Hunter of the difficulties of a direct assault.
“This ground seems as good as any for one prong of the attack,” Yongalla said. “Open ground, too far from the river for any of their boats to fire cannon at us. The walls look strong, but then they look strong everywhere.”
Malligo said, “And the other side of the city is impossible to see, as much for us as for them. The city walls are too high, and no decent hills nearby that offer a view of both sides. Good for us, since it means that they will be more confused whether this prong or the other is a feint.”
Weriyu, one of the lesser commanders accompanying the Warego, said “But that gives a problem. We cannot time both prongs at once. No signals can be seen. Message-riders will take long around this large city.”
Yongalla chuckled. Malligo did so a moment later, since it was expected here.
Yongalla said to Malligo, “Your idea, so you can explain.”
Malligo reached up and pulled up the chain around his neck, displaying what hung on his chest.
“Looks like a gold egg,” Weriyu said.
“Gold would be worth far more than I could dream. This is brass.” He had owned one of these once before, but had needed to sell it for funds before he left Tjibarr. One advantage of returning to the Five Rivers was the opportunity to obtain some decent plunder. A few of his warband had collected four in their battlefield loot; they knew the value better than Yalatji, and so had traded other things for them. In turn, he had claimed this new one as commander’s share.
Weriyu looked more closely at what he held up. “Is that a clock? Very small, if it is.”
“It is. Very small, very finely crafted. When I lived in Tjibarr, we called these Dog Eggs. Named after Dogport, where they are made [2].”
Weriyu said, “Ah. So this divides time into small moments. Enough that choosing the right moment can be done easily. Even for soldiers on opposite sides of the city.”
“Quite. I gave three to the High Warego. One is now his personal possession, and he will allocate the other two to the commanders chosen to order both assaults.”
“Very useful,” Weriyu said. “Has a day been set for the attacks?”
“Not yet, but I expect it will be soon,” Malligo said.
Not that synchronising the attacks would help much in overcoming the fundamental problems with this assault. He truly doubted that this could succeed, but on this matter, the Hunter’s mind was made up. Malligo had ensured that the Harmony Battalion remained on horseback waiting for raids from the northern gate, rather than being anywhere near the main battles. That would avoid any need to bring them close to the walls and expose them to musket fire when they could not properly fire back.
* * *
“The assault failed, I take it?” Ashkettle asks.
“Naturally. Over-ambitious, under-equipped, and with defenders who still had high morale. Proof that even the Hunter could make mistakes. Not that anyone said so at the time.”
“What happened then?”
“The perfect chance to hurry up and wait, as the saying goes. The siege dragged on for several months, though without checking a modern history book I cannot recall how many.”
“I know the dates that the siege happened,” Ashkettle says.
Clements snickers. “It matters not. I experienced the siege as it happened, not with a calendar. I remember feeling that this siege felt more real than anything which happened on the previous crusades. None of the cities which had fallen so far were a tenth of Yigutji’s size.”
“The city was that great?”
“The size makes it sound more impregnable than it was in truth. Like everywhere, Yigutji had lost many people due to the plagues. But the walls still stood, in good repair, imposing in bulk, and with enough soldiers remaining to defend them. Yigutji was ancient, it was the seat of the old empire, it was my childhood home. It was just so real.”
* * *
This letter is translated from an original parchment document preserved in the Museum of the Moon in Yuragir [Coffs Harbour] [3]. It purports to be a letter from Yongalla, one of the Dominion high commanders during the Yaluma era, written to his wife who is believed to have then been living near Cankoona [Toowoomba]. Internal evidence in the letter states that it was written during the siege of Yigutji, in early July 1719.
The original document was part of the famed Mitjigo Collection which the Museum acquired in 1927. There is no convincing explanation of how Mitjigo acquired the letter in the first place. Nevertheless, the balance of scholarly opinion is that the letter is genuine.
Beloved,
I write to you here from outside the walls of Yigutji, one of the great cities of the Five Rivers, now besieged by our valiant armies.
We were victorious against the River-Men armies at [indecipherable part of original] until they fled. Valour had the day, and my warband distinguished itself by killing many of the fleeing enemy Yigutjians. The Tjibarri regrouped to the west and withdrew in good order, defeated but not broken, while the Yigutjians fled back to their capital to cower behind walls. What happened to the Gutjanalese, I know not, but our scouts reported them nowhere nearby, and believed that they have fled to somewhere on the far side of the Matjidi.
Now we have enveloped and laid siege to Yigutji, the city, and it is here where my doubt begins. Assuredly Tjuwagga would find my lack of faith disturbing, but I have a very bad feeling about this siege.
The walls of Yigutji stand higher and larger than any city which we have conquered. Undermining them seems impossible. Once we tried to assault them, sending foot-men with ropes and ladders against the walls, and we lost many men for no accomplishment.
Tjuwagga had been a warleader unparalleled, but he erred in this instance. I hope only that his vision remains clear, and that this choice was merely a mote of dust in his foresight’s eye. Other measures must be found to bring about this city’s fall.
This is a place of wealth, of this you can be assured. I have sent some treasures with this letter, from my share of what our armies claimed from the fallen in our last battle. And this is only a small portion of what they hold within their walls here. If we can succeed in breaking into the city, then we will have plunder and wealth unparalleled.
Be assured that despite my misgivings about the course of this battle, in my person I am still unharmed, and my heart remains pledged to you even when you are out of my sight.
Until the day I can once again hold you in my arms, I remain your loving husband.
(The original is signed with a mostly indecipherable scrawl in the logosyllabic Five Rivers script which was then used for writing Yalatji.)
* * *
Ashkettle asks, “How long did the doubt persist?”
Clements says, “Almost to the end. Other sieges had been easier, even though they lasted longer. The failed assault was a major part of that, for all that no-one spoke of it. One failed attack, and a larger city than anything else. Add in the other Five Rivers kingdoms still being around, not attacking, but always out there, somewhere. The doubt may not have been on the men’s lips, but it was in their hearts.”
“What resolved it?”
“French negotiations, a lot of horses, and ultimately purchase of more cannon. We had those used to conquer Murrginhi, naturally. The walls of Yigutji were harder to bombard with cannon, being elevated, and much stouter besides.”
“Did you have any part in the negotiations?”
“No. Nor did the Hunter, directly. I remained near the walls, largely useless, since a herald could not negotiate when both parties refused to meet. At the time, I did not speak French very well anyway. He assigned the negotiations to the new governor he had appointed in Murrginhi. The results worked, though. Many new cannon, and by dint of much horsepower they were brought all the way along the Spice Road to Yigutji.”
“What happened then?”
“The bombardment started, and soon, everyone knew what the outcome would be.”
* * *
25 December 1719
Yigutji, Kingdom of Yigutji
The cannons were performing well. Bombardment continued against the walls of Yigutji, at the chosen location on the furthest wall section from the river. The Hunter looked pleased.
Watching from his vantage to the side, Goonawa did not know whether to be pleased or disappointed himself. He knew, without any false modesty, that his fellow Warego considered him second in battle sense to the Hunter himself. He also knew that for the first time, the Hunter had committed a major tactical blunder. He had endeavoured to storm Yigutji, a decision which accomplished naught but bloodshed amongst the foot, and quiet grumblings from many of the men.
If the mistakes continue, how long before I am considered first in battle sense? Goonawa craved such a reputation. If the errors continued, it would strengthen his personal position as a tactician who had not made such blunders. If the siege of Yigutji failed entirely, the Hunter’s reputation would be badly weakened.
Yet capturing Yigutji would break one-third of the River-Men, and provide enough plunder that every Horse-Man would be enriched. A Warego’s share would be greater still. So conquering the city would be a great enrichment, at the price of preserving the Hunter’s reputation.
If Yigutji holds, where to then? The Hunter had united the North-Men and South-Men because of his vision and his skill in battle. If his conquests failed, there would be opportunities. Goonawa was a man who knew how to take advantage of opportunities.
Of course, even a defeat in battle might not be necessary. Goonawa had watched and listened, throughout the Yalumas. The Hunter often took a valiant role in battle. Good for encouraging his soldiers, but it placed himself at risk. Always at risk. So far his luck in battle had held, but what if it failed?
The Hunter had two sons and one daughter, all of them to concubines, and all of them too young. None of them would be considered as leader. Which meant that if the Hunter fell in battle, the right of rule would fall to the strongest.
And Goonawa was surely the strongest.
A shout went up from amongst the cannoneers. Goonawa looked up to see them gesturing at the wall. The nearest section had partly collapsed; the lower part still stood, but the upper portion had fallen over.
“It begins!” the Hunter said. “Goonawa, Kyulibah, attend! Give orders to your auxiliary foot. They are to prepare for first entry into Yigutji, as soon as the breach can be exploited. Once inside... Kill soldiers, first. Once the soldiers have been defeated, anyone else inside the walls may be killed. Those who have fled beyond the city walls shall be spared, unless they are soldiers, or try to fight back.”
“It will be done,” Goonawa said. Wealth it must be, for now. “Yigutji will fall!”
* * *
Ashkettle says, “Did news of the cannon boost everyone’s morale so quickly?”
“Soon enough,” Clements says. “They had worked once before. Getting powder and shot there took some doing, but it was arranged. The city’s doom was assured once the cannon were emplaced.”
“What did you see during the fall?”
“Very little, at the time. A herald had no place entering within the walls while combat raged, and afterward, I feared the flames. I remember survivors of the sack fleeing the city, with many of them being cut down as they ran away from the gates. I remember that after the Dominion armies had brought out their plunder, they fired the city. I remember the smoke, rising high above the city, forming a black column that would linger for days. I remember the feeling that this was the end of Yigutji. That this was the end of the city and the kingdom, not just now, but for all time.”
“And it was the end.”
“More or less. A few military remnants fought on for a while, claiming to be representing Yigutji. Nothing meaningful of the kingdom remained after the city’s fall, though. And for the city, it was indeed the end forever. Yigutji was destroyed, its inhabitants dead or fled, and the city would never be rebuilt.”
* * *
[1] The white dye which allohistorical Aururians call white ochre is not ochre in a chemical sense, since ochre is a form of iron oxide which is at least yellow in colour, often darker. The white dye is a form of pipe clay that is, however, used in a similar manner to true ochre.
[2] Dogport is historical Port Augusta. It was founded as an imperial trading post, then refounded as a Nangu colonial outpost ruled by an Island-appointed port-captain, despite the surrounding territory being Tjibarri-administered. The Nangu permitted a short-lived Dutch opal-trading outpost in the city between 1644-1654. After an English East India Company raid in 1654, the Nangu closed the permanent Dutch outpost, though they still permitted visitors. With the economic and demographic collapse of the Island in the era of the Great Death (measles) in the early 1660s, Tjibarr claimed formal sovereignty of Dogport in 1668. This city has since developed into the centre of the Tjibarri brass and lead industry, using zinc and lead produced as a by-product of silver mining in Gwee Langta [Broken Hill], and copper and charcoal sourced locally or shipped in from the lands around the historical Spencer Gulf and Gulf St Vincent.
[3] The Museum of the Moon is popularly nicknamed the “Big Banana” due to its crescent-shaped main building (laid out as such to represent the crescent moon) and the ornamental yellow sandstone on its outer walls (the sandstone is mined in a quarry near historical Lismore).
* * *
Thoughts?
