Reincarnated to the Past 41 (Patreon)

Reincarnated to the Past
Chapter 41

-VB-

It took my two ships a week and a half to traverse four hundred and fifty miles of water, half of which was the Danube River and the other half was the coast-hugging sailing from the mouth of the Danube to Bosphorus Strait.

Traveling close to the coast had been necessary because none of the warriors were sailors and had to be taught on the spot. To make sure none of us drifted away, we stuck within a mile of the coast. Despite the lack of experience, my two ships, shorter than the traditional bireme-style galleys used by the ancient Greeks during this era, had moved quickly.

Unfortunately, it hadn’t been quick enough; it gave our target good amount of time to see us coming instead of seeing us coming with only hours to organize.

Fortunately, the alert did absolutely nothing to help them because someone else put them to siege.

As we sailed down the Bosphorus Strait, we saw the city under attack by someone else, and they seemed to be winning, if the constant advance of the soldiers climbing the siege ladders was any indication.

“Pull us up against the shore!” I shouted over the sound of the waves, and my meagerly trained sailors rowed. The sailors on the starboard stopped rowing and the rest of the sailors on the port side quickly picked up the slack. The ships began to lean right and then turned nearly perpendicular to the coast. “Pull up the sail!”  Then I turned towards the top of the mast. “Do you recognize the colors?” I asked loudly to my Istrian subordinate on the crow’s nest.

Asmathius, an Istrian sailor that we picked up along with a hundred others and more levies, peered, leaning forward. He saw the red soldiers on the walls and then the yellow ones on the field.

“It’s Perinthus!”

Perinthus was, according to my Istrian subjects, a walled city on the Sea of Marmara. They were a rival of the Byzantion. Perinthus was also one of the only cities this close to Byzantion that hadn’t been subjected to the cruelty of the greedy Istiran diplomat. In conclusion, I had no issue with them.

I also did not have issue with them taking out Byzantion because it would mean less issue for me to look after. After all, a Byzantion angry or fighting another power was a Byzantion not coming after me and Istria.

Just as my two ships ground up to the shore north of the walled city and my warriors armed themselves, I saw the situation change; the defenders killed someone and the soldiers fled, climbing down from the siege ladders frantically.

This was our chance. The defenders would be focused on routing the attackers, and would not even be aware of us.

It took no more than fifteen minutes for all of us to be armed.

“Follow me quietly,” I hissed and we sneaked towards the wall. The “gentle” footfalls of over two hundred armored and armed men was still a lot of feet. They made sound but not as much as a march or a charge would have.

The defenders continued to shoot arrows and even sallied out.

“Ballsy fuckers,” I snorted as we used the tall grass as cover.

They closed the gate from within, and then the situation changed again; the sallied out soldiers clashed with the Perinthian soldiers and … were getting pushed back. They weren’t outright losing, but it was a careful balance that could be broken at any moment.

My troops and I reached the wall of the city. “Hooks,” I said as I extended a hand towards my only volunteer slave. Rom reached into his bag and pulled out two three pronged hooks with rope attached. I took one each to my hands and, after spinning them thrice, flung them high up into the air. I watched as the hooks sailed up into the air and -.

C-Clank!

I gave a few good tugs.

It was safe.

“Up, up!”

I, on the other hand, jumped up. Each jump took me up half a meter up, and each step took me up faster up.

And then.

I was up on the battlement.

What few soldiers who were still here saw and looked at me in horror, but that didn't last long before I pulled out and then threw throwing knives with 100% accuracy. Each throw landed a hit, even if it didn’t kill.

After my fifth kill, the first of my soldiers climbed over.

The other soldiers on further down the walls on either side saw and raised the alarm.

That was enough to send the sallied soldiers fleeing the battlefield. Perinthian soldiers rallied and roared as they chased after the Byzantion soldiers. From where I was, I saw a wave of red get swallowed by a wave of yellow, and the yellow continued to surge towards the city.

“Surrender to me, and I will defend you from the Perinthians!” I roared in Thracian.

The soldiers looked between the murderous Perinthians that just killed over two hundred of their fellows and a new enemy already within their walls.

Someone ran over to me, dropped his spear and then his shield. He came to a huffing stop in front of me.

“Byzantion surrenders to you. Save us from them.”

I grinned.

“Rom!”

My faithful servant walked up to me, having climbed all the way up with all of the equipment I told him to carry. Good man.

“My bow and spears.”

This one was not from Rom but from someone else with him. The second man unlatched the hook on his person and then hefted the bow on his back to me.

It was a longbow except if it was reinforced with elastic metal frame. It had been a bitch to make, and there was only one of it. The string was less a string and more of a rope.

And then when I got the bow, Rom handed me the “spears.”

They were short spears but also flechetted so that they could be shot from a bow.

The soldier who surrendered to me looked at me in confused shock as I nocked a shortspear and pulled.

Everyone there could hear the metal and wood groan from the strain I put them through.

Then I loosed.

The spear whistled as it cleaved through the air. It flew high up … and then came back down right into the Perinthian force.

“Tch,” I clicked my tongue as I began to slowly walk towards the wall that the Perinthians were obviously trying to climb over. I nocked another shortspear. My muscles grew taut from the exercise but nothing that was too straining for it. I loosed it again, and watched as it slammed into the Perinthians again. “MAN THE WALLS!” I roared, and all of my warriors, including Rom, quickly rushed over all the while I loosed one more spear-arrow.

I picked up the spears that Rom left and made my way over as the Perinthians started climbing again.

I didn’t even bother with the bow this time. I just threw the spear. It flew and pierced through not one but two Perinthian soldiers who were climbing the ladder and then tossed them over the side.

The siege didn’t stop because something odd happened. Most people didn’t even see it.

But when I kept throwing and kept killing with my spears, the Perinthians noticed.

And then with my last spear, I ignored the climbers altogether and struck the fanciest looking one among them at the ground level.

He screamed when the spear punched through his stomach, tore out of his back, and then pinned to the ground. He held the spear in shock as he screamed in pain.

That was it for the Perinthians. This time, they really fled.

“Hold fort,” I commanded, and my two hundred-... No, one hundred eighty-nine warriors held their positions on the battlement and cheered as our enemies fled.

I turned back to the soldier who surrendered.

“Now, you surrender. Who might you be?”

The soldier, who’s been following me, took off his helmet. Underneath it was a dark haired man in his late fifties(?). “I am Vivsius Erekti, the archon of Byzantion. Who may you be…?”

The words that came out of my lips shocked him solid.

“I am the new Lord of Istria, Alan Marris. You lot attacked my city.”

The resigned look on his face was delicious for my ego.