Capítulo 1510: Chapter 57: Siege (Part 27)
[Kingsfort]
[Outside Knight’s Castle]
“What’s that?”
In the trench, Winters pointed to the fortress by the river and asked.
“Which one?” Mason leaned over immediately.
“Those holes,” Winters gestured to the senior.
Looking in the direction Winters pointed, Mason understood; he was asking about the shallow pits on the embankment.
“I don’t know what those pits are called either,” Mason said with a wry smile, explaining quickly, “The area around the enemy fortress didn’t have those pits originally, but ever since Major Luosong’s cavalry charged directly to the top of the slope, they immediately dug those pits on the gentler slope surfaces, so I call them ‘horse trap pits.’ Ah, the enemy learns from war during the war, while I command the next battle using the experience from the last one.”
“No one prepares for the next battle without using the experience from the last,” Winters cast his gaze toward the distant castle, appearing calm, “Isn’t this learning from war during the war?”
On hearing the senior’s words, he reexamined the embankment around the fortress and confirmed that the steeper embankments remained standard. Only on the flatter slope surfaces were extra shallow pits dug.
Moreover, he discovered something new: there were not too many nor too few shallow pits, three rows in total, resembling a beehive, with an estimated total width of about two meters.
Two meters, a very subtle distance.
If it were on flat ground, Winters was confident that he could easily leap over it while riding Longwind.
Even if it were a warhorse not as good as Longwind, as long as it was properly trained and not afraid of trenches, it could jump over.
In other words, a two-meter wide trench was a terrain worth the risk for the cavalry.
However, when factoring in the slope of the embankment, the risk becomes highly uncontrollable.
Winters placed himself in the position of the enemy commander; if he were in charge of the defense, he would dig another row or two of shallow pits, increasing the width to three meters, outright cutting off the enemy cavalry’s thoughts of charging directly up the slope.
Yet, the opponent had only dug up to two meters—considering there were no extra pits around the fortress, Winters was very certain that the commander who laid out these “horse trap pits” was deliberately enticing his enemy to attack with a trench that posed risks but was worth a try when necessary.
This calculating style to the extreme made Winters very dislike it.
“Across,” although he had already learned the enemy commander’s identity from the report, Winters still felt a bit incredulous, “Is it really Jansen Cornelius?”
Mason answered unconfidently: “The ‘inside man’ who escaped from the city said so.
“Minister Cornelius—the Southern Front Army Commander; Raymond Montecuccoli, artillery director; and Major Fritz, supplies director.
“It’s said that the people in Kingsfort secretly call them ‘three mud carriages.’ Because although there’s also Colonel William Ludwick, the major and minor affairs are actually decided by the first three.”
“Sounds like Minister Cornelius’s style,” Winters, counting the firing ports, casually commented.
Mason vaguely sensed a bit of personal resentment, asked: “You… know the Minister?”
“How about you?” Winters deflected, asking back, “Do you know the Minister?”
“How could I possibly know the Minister,” Mason shook his head instinctively, but felt his answer wasn’t accurate, quickly corrected himself, “Of course, I know the Minister, but the Minister shouldn’t know me.”
Winters spoke without turning his head: “I am just like you on this point. So, do you think I ‘know’ Minister Cornelius?”
Mason understood what Winters meant, but this made him all the more puzzled, “Then why do you seem to have some… objections to the Minister?”
“Because he whipped me once,” Winters turned around, an ambiguous smile on his face, “And didn’t apologize.”
Mason was speechless; corporal punishment at the Army Academy was commonplace, keeping a grudge for a whipping seemed petty. But persuading someone to let go of “resentment” at this time seemed inappropriate, not to mention convincing a Venetian.
Mason switched topics, asking more urgent matters; he uneasily asked: “Knight’s Castle… what do you think?”
What to think?
Winters didn’t immediately answer.
Compared to the last time he “entered and exited” Kingsfort, its city defense had undergone overwhelming changes.
If the original New Town of Kingsfort was a drafty house, not only the breaches in the walls have been plugged now, but barbed fences have been newly built, drainage ditches dug, and at least two thousand dogs borrowed from the neighbors.
Regarding Knight’s Castle alone, the location of Knight’s Castle was originally the weakest point of New Town’s city defense.
John Jeska once taught Winters: “There’s great knowledge in the seams of maps.”
Winters’ own insight is: “There’s also great knowledge in the junction of terrain.”
At the northernmost end of New Town, in the area between the river and the land, the soil is loose, making it challenging to establish a solid foundation. Thus, the city wall of New Town bent here, following eastward along the river, yielding a large area of riverbank.
Moreover, perhaps due to the budget being almost exhausted, the part of the city wall by the river was not built with stone, but with two wooden walls filled with dirt in the middle, ending hastily.
Without the additional fortifications built by the United Provincials, Winters would choose this side of the city wall as the breakthrough point.
Even with the presence of Knight’s Castle, this area is not entirely unassailable.
The cost, however, would be exceptionally high.
Indeed, the cost.
Once “cost” begins to be considered, the attacking side naturally turns its attention to other areas of New Town, seeking positions with lower “cost” for breakthrough.
For example, Kingsfort, “Castle,” Magit Island, Old Town…
This is a very rational thought process, but the emphasis lies elsewhere.
The emphasis is on how this feeling of being led by the enemy makes Winters instinctively uncomfortable.
He couldn’t pinpoint exactly where, but he felt uneasy.
Like he had stepped into a small room filled with spider webs, sticky webs draped over his hands, face, and arms, the dim light preventing him from seeing the webs, yet the annoying touch confirmed their definite presence.
That’s the kind of feeling Winters had.
But he couldn’t tell Senior Mason.
He looked at Mason—the senior’s complexion was pale and dull, fully showing exhaustion, clearly not having gotten adequate rest, evidenced by severe dark circles.
But those bloodshot eyes had a kind of morbid excitement, almost neurotic—caused by excessive pressure.
Even if Mason said nothing, Winters could feel that due to the unexpected progress of the battle in Kingsfort, the senior had begun to fall into self-doubt.
Doubting oneself leads to added pressure, triggering a vicious cycle.
Winters could understand the senior because he too had been caught in such self-doubt, or rather, he was constantly in self-doubt, questioning if his decisions were the best, doubting if he had let others down.
Language is powerless in the face of such emotions.
Confronting self-questioning, everyone must make it through on their own.
Thus, Winters had no means to guide the senior because it was meaningless, possibly making things worse.
Moreover, he couldn’t directly express his discomfort from being “trapped by the web,” as it was only a vague feeling and might further distress Senior Mason.
“I agree with your assessment,” Winters decided to stick to the facts, discussing the objective situation alone, not subjective feelings, ”
Knight’s Castle, though not large, is very well defended and hard to tackle. Let’s check other places, starting with Kingsfort and then Magit Island.”
Mason nodded and turned to lead the way.
“Right,” Winters followed behind, “Although the ‘inside man’ who escaped from the city says Kingsfort wasn’t taken, I still want to meet him before seeing Brigadier General Gessa.”